Eleventh Grade Burns(57)

Snow held up a hand, stopping his ramble. She waited for Eddie to disappear back into the gym before saying, “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want you stressing out over nothing. Mostly, he just stands in the corner and gawks at me. This last time, he asked me questions about you. It took him a while to work up to the vampire question, but he got there with some determination. But stop worrying about Eddie Poe. I have him under control. Now ... what did you tell Meredith?”

Barely able to tear his eyes from the door Eddie had walked through, Vlad’s words fell into disbelieving whispers. “I told her I’m a vampire.”

Snow’s eyes widened. “Seriously? What did she think about that?”

He shook his head, trying to erase the memory of Meredith’s face when he’d finally told her the truth. She didn’t believe him. She thought it was just a ploy to get between her and Joss. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. All that matters is that I’m sorry I left you to chase after her, Snow. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.” Snow shrugged and smiled up at him, looking more than a little relieved that Meredith had rejected him. “I missed you feeding from me.”

Vlad raised an eyebrow. What a weird thing to say. “Really? Cuz it seems like it makes you sick or something.”

“Maybe it’s having you close that I miss.” She ran her finger delicately along the buttons of his vest and met his gaze. “Vlad?”

Was it getting warm in here? Vlad swallowed hard, resisting the urge to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. “Yeah?”

She tilted her head to the side, curiosity filling her lovely eyes. “Do you really like that Meredith girl still?”

He didn’t have to think about it, not for a second, and he didn’t want to lie. But he knew if he were another boy, a boy like Henry maybe, he wouldn’t have answered. He would have bent down and kissed Snow so deeply before dragging her back onto the dance floor with whispered promises and sweet nothings. But he wasn’t that kind of boy. He was Vlad. Almost guilty, he said, “Yeah. I do.”

“Oh.” The hurt was there in her eyes, hurt that shouted loud and clear. Snow wanted to be his everything, no matter the cost.

“It’s ... complicated.” Vlad made sure she was steady, then backed away from her. The hall cooled considerably.

“Love usually is.” She shrugged again and smiled, all traces of sadness erased. “What’s it like to be a vampire?”

“It’s ...” Vlad sighed, shaking his head. “It’s complicated too.”

“Would you ever ...” She had her well-groomed eyebrows raised, but then lowered them, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

But Vlad couldn’t help but wonder if Snow were about to ask him to make her into a vampire as well.

Clearing his throat, Vlad gave the subject a shove in another direction. “Do you wanna dance?”

Snow beamed.

Vlad held out the crook of his arm and led her back into the gym. He hardly thought about Meredith Brookstone the rest of the night.

Not more than five or six thousand times, anyway.





23





V BAR


THE CAB PULLED TO A STOP and Otis slipped the cabbie some money before opening his door. Vlad slid out after him and yawned. The flight to New York City had been short, but uneventful—there had been minor excitement when Otis pointed out the Statue of Liberty as they were landing, but Vlad couldn’t see it, so he just nodded noncommittally when Otis asked if he had. From the airport, they drove straight through to Greenwich Village, with promises from Otis that they’d stay in Midtown Manhattan so that Vlad could see Times Square. Vlad was trying to be excited about the trip, but the fact remained that they were here for Otis’s pretrial. And according to Vikas, this was Otis’s last chance at getting out of the charges filed against him alive.

The cabbie pulled their suitcases from the trunk, wished them a nice day, and before Vlad could open his mouth to say goodbye, he was gone, barreling down the street as if he were in a hurry to get away from his pale, thin, ravenous looking fares. Maybe, Vlad thought, he was.

Otis picked up their suitcases and nodded toward an unassuming café behind Vlad. A small sign hung over the door, painted blue—like the door and window trim—with white letters that read V Bar. Otis leaned closer and said, “Any idea what the V might stand for?”