Eleventh Grade Burns(80)

Meredith ... who wore pink and always had a slight tan.

Meredith ... who wanted nothing to do with him.

And Snow.

Beside him, Otis shifted so that he was facing Vlad, as if that would make carrying on a conversation easier. But Vlad didn’t want to talk. He didn’t feel like talking. All he wanted to do was think about how pretty the world really was and how much he was going to miss being a part of it.

“Vladimir, please try not to worry. Vikas has assured me that he will do everything in his power to prevent your sentence from being carried out, and Dorian has even volunteered to step in and make the council truly listen to your appeal. You’re going to be fine.”

What Otis seemed to be forgetting was that if D’Ablo was smart enough to arrange Vlad’s trial in secrecy, he was probably smart enough to know that Dorian would volunteer to help Vlad out of his sentencing.

Vlad watched out the window, looking for even a small break in the clouds.

There was none.

Otis must have taken the hint, because he didn’t speak for the rest of the plane ride. Two hours later, the plane landed on the runway at Stokerton International Airport. Together, they wandered over to baggage claim to collect their bags. They chatted but didn’t say anything of consequence. Vlad had sunk too deep into his gloom to carry on any conversation with substance. As they moved through the security gate, Vlad lugging his heavy duffel along behind him, Otis paused midstep.

Vlad followed suit, raising an eyebrow at his uncle, whose face had gone completely white. “Otis? You okay?”

“Yes. I’m ... I’m fine. Take my bag, will you?”

But Vlad didn’t have a chance to answer. Otis dropped his bag on the floor and hurried through security, where Nelly was waiting. She moved to hug him, but he dropped immediately to his knees. He looked like a man in dire need, pleading before the only person in the world who could help him. Nelly’s eyes moved to Vlad and then back to Otis on the floor in front of her.

Vlad dragged the bags closer. He’d never seen his uncle look so scared.

“Damn the laws, Nelly, and damn the legal system too. I love you. I can’t stop loving you just for fear of being put to death by a corrupt government. I need you.” His eyes shined with tears, as if he was terrified of her response. From his inside jacket pocket, he withdrew a black velvet box. “Will you be my wife?”

Nelly’s eyes shined too, but hers were shining with joy. She bent down, hugging him tightly. She didn’t have to say yes. And Vlad could tell by the way Otis swept her up in his arms and kissed her that they’d be married soon.

He only hoped it would be before his sentence was carried out.

And that ... was highly unlikely.





35


A SLAYER’S LAMENT

JOSS PLUCKED THE PARCHMENT from the table in frustration, rereading what he had already read five times, each time hoping the words would be different. At the top of the letter was the seal of the Slayer Society: S.S. At the bottom was their creed: FOR THE GOOD OF MANKIND.

His eyes moved over the page slowly, searching for even a hint that the letter wasn’t authentic. But it was.

Joss,

It has come to our attention that you have not yet fulfilled your recently assigned duties. While we appreciate the detailed reconnaissance that you have faithfully provided us with, the vampire that you have been sent to dispatch remains alive, and according to our sources, there are at least two other known vampires residing there in Bathory. We are deeply disappointed in your lack of progress and have convened in your absence to discuss a new plan of action. As you insist against our gathered intelligence that the vampire you have been sent to kill has eluded you, and due to your past confusion with referring to the vampire known as Vladimir Tod as your “friend,” we have determined that if you do not fulfill your obligation to mankind and this Society by dispatching these horrendous creatures by the end of the school year, the town of Bathory will be cleansed. The choice is yours, slayer.



The letter was unsigned, but Joss didn’t need signatures to know who had sent it. The Slayer Society was coming. And like the village of Jeremiah’s Lot in Vermont, the ship Mary Celeste—both places where many people had seemingly disappeared overnight—and many others both before and since, the Society was planning to extinguish the entire town of Bathory, just to make certain they rid it of every vampire in it.

Aunt Matilda, Uncle Mike, Mom, Dad, Henry, Vlad, Meredith. Everyone. All dead.