Eleventh Grade Burns(35)

He couldn’t be with Snow the way he’d been with Meredith. He still loved Meredith. And Snow ... she deserved better.

Besides, she was just his food source ... wasn’t she?

No. She was a person. A person who deserved better than a monster like Vlad. When the last bell rang, Vlad grabbed his backpack and headed out the front doors, but he didn’t get far.

Two sets of hands picked him up, one by his arms and one by his legs, and carried him around to the back of the school, to the grassy area surrounded by shrubs, where a few teachers went to smoke during lunch. It wasn’t until those hands threw him down on the ground that Vlad could confirm they belonged to Bill and Tom, the resident bullies who had been a constant thorn in Vlad’s side since before kindergarten. He wasn’t surprised in the least.

But when they wordlessly duct-taped him to the small maple tree ... that gave him cause to raise an eyebrow. He didn’t bother protesting—he’d just tap into his vampire strength and snap free once they’d gone. It was just an annoyance, a minor setback to his afternoon plans.

Eddie stepped into the clearing, and Vlad’s eyes darted to Bill and Tom. After a moment of awkward silence, Bill said, “Where’s our twenty bucks, Poe?”

Eddie held up a bill and Tom snatched it. “Man, you got ripped off. We’d have done it for free.”

The bullies guffawed and made their way back to the front of the school. Eddie’s small face wore a smirk as he crouched in front of Vlad, a superior, knowing look in his little weasel eyes. “Comfy?”

Vlad glared. The last thing he wanted to do was spend even a moment in the presence of Eddie Poe, vampire paparazzo extraordinaire. He pulled his hands forward, ready to tear through the tape that held him in place, and was hit by a wave of nausea that ripped away his strength required to break the bonds. He looked at Eddie, narrowing his eyes, and put some real effort into it, yanking at the tape, but still he couldn’t break it. Confused, he tried again, but failed. A terrible ache was settling into his stomach, and Vlad knew that if he didn’t lie down soon, he was going to throw up all over Eddie’s camera.

With a smug smile, Eddie unzipped his backpack and pulled out a string of garlic. He held it up for Vlad to see. “Does this answer any questions for you?”

Vlad shrank away as much as he could, but there was no escape. So that was why he suddenly felt so sick, that was why he was feeling so weak. He made a mental note to give Eddie a permanent wedgie the moment he escaped. “Eddie, what are you doing?”

Eddie tied the end of the string, making a loop, and despite Vlad’s struggling, placed it over Vlad’s head and around his neck.

It was the most dangerous necklace that Vlad had ever worn.

Unless the garlic got into a wound or Vlad swallowed it, he’d be fine—Otis had assured him of that. But the real danger was that Eddie knew the garlic would subdue him long enough to ... to ... to do whatever it was Eddie planned to do.

The scent of the garlic was choking him, but Vlad managed to repeat his words. “What are you doing?”

He’d meant for them to come out threatening, but they sounded more like a whimper.

Eddie fiddled with his lens, occasionally pointing his camera at Vlad and adjusting something. “I’m just making sure you stick around long enough for me to take a few pictures.”

Vlad tried to push into Eddie’s mind, but no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn’t get inside—the garlic must have weakened that too. His voice shook, but he tried to remain calm. “You should know I’m really allergic to garlic, Eddie. We’ve been going to school together since kindergarten.”

“It’s a good cover, Vlad, and not entirely a lie. Aren’t all vampires allergic to garlic?” Eddie smiled a strange, sadistic smile. He pulled a pocketknife from his back pocket and opened it, revealing a small, sharp blade. His actions were so casual that Vlad found himself frightened—frightened! Of Eddie Poe. He never saw that coming.

Despite his fears, despite his nausea, Vlad shook his head and tried hard to act cool and casual. “You still think that? Man, Eddie, you should see a shrink. Seriously. Vampires aren’t re—”

He was going to say “real,” but then Eddie drew the blade across his palm, splitting his pale skin open. Bright red blood blossomed from the cut, and Vlad’s eyes locked on Eddie’s self-inflicted wound. Vlad’s stomach, despite the queasiness-inducing garlic, rumbled with need.

Eddie poked at his cut with his finger, enticing it to open, to bleed freely. Blood drew a lazy line down his palm, and with prodding the line thickened. He waved his bleeding hand in front of Vlad’s face and smirked. “Not real, huh? So why do you look so hungry all of a sudden?”