Eleventh Grade Burns(46)

He took it all in, trying to be angry but feeling more violated than anything. When he spoke, his whispered words were a gray, breathy puff in the chilly air. “What were you looking for, Joss?”

Only one thing in the room appeared untouched. Vlad carefully stepped over books and debris and opened the drawer of the small table that sat next to his dad’s chair.

It was empty.

Joss had stolen the most important thing to Vlad in the belfry. His father’s journal.

Slowly, Vlad slid the drawer shut. Then he picked up the table and threw it across the room with a scream. Furious, he stepped from the belfry and jumped to the nearest treetop, hopping between trees all the way home.

He slammed the front door closed behind him, and Nelly snapped her eyes to his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Nothing that kicking Joss’s butt couldn’t cure, that was.

The look in her eyes said she didn’t believe him in the least, but she wasn’t about to push the issue.

Vlad sighed, brushing his bangs from his eyes. “I’m just glad we have a long weekend. I could use a break from school and all the drama.”

And Joss, but he wasn’t about to bring that up.

“Speaking of Thanksgiving weekend ...”

Vlad’s eyes went wide. He knew that tone. “Nelly, what did you do?”

“Nothing. Nothing, really.” But her eyes gave her away completely. Whatever it was, she knew Vlad wasn’t going to be happy about it. “Matilda and I were talking earlier, and she invited us over for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Actually, she insisted that we come.”

Vlad blinked. “We’re having dinner at Henry’s? That’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all” She gave him an awkward smile, “Basically.”

“Basically? What does that mea—oh no.” His eyes widened. Vlad moved to the closest chair and sat down, his head falling into his hands. When he spoke again the sound was muffled. “Please tell me Joss isn’t going to be there.”

He raised his head to look at her. “Please tell me you didn’t agree to have dinner with the only vampire slayer in town!”

Vlad had stood up from the chair, and his voice had risen to a shout. He knew, but didn’t care. “I can’t believe you!”

He all but flew up to his room and barely had time to register that Nelly was saying that she’d had no idea until she’d already agreed and that it wouldn’t be all that bad before he slammed his door shut so hard that he splintered the wood.

So much for the slayer’s search for information. Joss had his father’s journal.

And somehow, Vlad had to get it back.





19





A WAKING NIGHTMARE


VLAD WOKE FROM A SOUND SLEEP, but he didn’t open his eyes right away. He wasn’t exactly sure what had woken him, and he didn’t exactly feel like getting out of bed at oh-my-glob-o’clock, so he laid there in the darkness, somewhere between awake and asleep, and tried to stop thinking about whatever it was that had shaken him from his dreams.

As if coaxing him further from sleep, Vlad’s throat went dry, urging him to slip from his comfy bed into the bathroom for a sip of water. Reluctantly, Vlad opened his eyes.

Above him, seemingly suspended in midair, was a dagger. A familiar dagger, one that Vlad instantly recognized from the dark, bloody room that invaded his dreams every night, one filled with memories of a terrible ritual. Its blade gleamed some in the moonlight as it came down hard, aiming for Vlad’s chest. He dove out of bed, hitting the floor hard. As he did, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see his ever-present nightmare standing beside his disheveled bed.

Vlad gasped, “D’Ablo.”

D’Ablo, holding the ritual dagger tightly in his good hand, merely smiled. “The time has come, Master Pravus. Or should I say your time has come.”

He swung forward with the dagger again, and this time the blade caught Vlad’s sleeve before he could move. Once Vlad was across the room, he spoke quickly. “I let you live!”

D’Ablo wasn’t coming after him again—not yet—so Vlad seized the opportunity to explain. “Last year in Stokerton. I had the Lucis in my hand. I could’ve killed you. Otis urged me to kill you, but I didn’t. And then, when we were outside in the sunlight, you were on fire. I warned you that you were dying so you’d hurry into the shadows. I could’ve blown you away or let you burn, but I didn’t. Have you ever asked yourself why?”