Eleventh Grade Burns(79)

Vlad’s stomach shrank. Oh no. No, no, no. D’Ablo had set him up. Otis’s whole trial was just some sadistic way to get to Vlad. And if that were true ... Vikas being poisoned, his dad’s journal, Tristian’s death ... it must all have been D’Ablo’s doing, or someone working for D’Ablo all along. He shot a glance at his nemesis, knowing that D’Ablo was somehow responsible for all of it, all of Vlad’s pain and anguish. Why was he even a bit surprised?

Em raised a sharp eyebrow. “And this ... Nelly?”

D’Ablo dropped his gaze from hers, but only briefly. “I have no knowledge of her beliefs concerning Vladimir Tod.”

“Noted.” Em turned back to Vlad, who was inwardly plotting D’Ablo’s painful demise. “This council finds you guilty of revealing your true nature to two humans and of causing the death of the vampire Jasik.”

The few gathered started whispering among themselves. Vlad didn’t have to strain to hear what they were saying. They spoke of his impending death. Vlad shuddered.

Otis cried out, “This is madness! He’s just a boy!”

Enrico moved forward and placed a calm hand on Otis’s shoulder.

Vlad met Em’s sea green eyes and held her gaze for a moment before speaking. “Excuse me, but I never got a pretrial. According to the Compendium of Conscientia, all accused vampires must undergo a pretrial.”

Em set her jaw, as if bothered slightly by the knowledge that he’d read the book. “That law governs vampires. And you are half-human.”

“By that logic, any sentence you give won’t matter.” He shook his head. This was going nowhere fast. And it didn’t matter what Vlad said, didn’t matter what arguments he brought forth, Em wouldn’t hear him. She’d already made up her mind about that.

The corners of Em’s mouth rose in a small smile. “I assure you, it will.”

“So you can pick and choose when to acknowledge I’m a vampire and when to acknowledge I’m less than that? That’s not fair.” His voice was rising in upset, but he didn’t care. His thoughts raced back to the gathering of vampires this past fall. There had been speculation about Em—that she might be one of D’Ablo’s followers. If that was true ...

“Young one, life isn’t fair.” She picked up a pen and scribbled something on the papers in front of her, dismissing him.

D’Ablo was practically glowing.

Vlad hissed, “What is D’Ablo giving you to make this okay in the eyes of vampiric law, Em? Or rather ... what is he holding over your head?”

Em snapped her eyes up. They gleamed with anger and a hint of insult. “On the charge of entering into a romance with a human ...”

Vlad felt Em slip into his mind and shuffle through his memories. It was against the rules of the courtroom, but Em was beyond the law, beyond any law. And she would stop at nothing to satisfy the wishes of her cult leader. Rules, laws were in place for a reason, but apparently all bets were now off. Images of Meredith passed through Vlad’s thoughts against his will. Their first kiss. Their first dance. Walking her home. Their breakup.

Ignoring Vikas’s pleas, Em consulted the rest of the council quietly before speaking again. “Vladimir Tod, you are guilty on all counts but one, and so you are sentenced to death. As this council is mercifully understanding that you are yet a child, we grant you one week to get your affairs in order. This council is adjourned.”

Vlad snapped his eyes to D’Ablo. “It was never Joss. It was you. Vikas, the journal, Tristian. Even Otis’s trial wasn’t your goal—but you knew it would get me here. Why?”

D’Ablo waited until the room was nearly empty before he responded with a smirk. “Again with your presumptions, Master Pravus.”

“Why?” Vlad set his jaw, almost growling the word.

D’Ablo paused for the span of two heartbeats. “To put it simply, you destroyed my dagger and I knew that if you managed to escape the rest of the ritual, I would need a fail-safe at the ready. If I can’t have your status, Master Pravus ... no one can.”

He walked out of the room and Vlad wished for the first time that he could turn back the clock and fire the Lucis straight at D’Ablo’s heart.





34





GOING HOME


VLAD SLUMPED IN HIS SEAT on the plane, leaning his forehead against the plastic wall by the tiny window to his right, staring at the clouds outside. He’d never noticed how fluffy clouds were or how sometimes, when you were soaring miles above them, they looked exactly like a soft blanket of snow. He’d also never noticed how beautiful snow was. Or even ... Snow. He could picture her now, her pale skin, her black hair, her painted lips. So loyal, so trusting. In perfect contrast to Meredith.