Sprat stumbled toward Vlad’s table, looking more than a little uncomfortable. When Vlad smiled at him, it seemed to put him at ease. Sprat said, “I wanted to thank you.”
Vlad was about to say that if he was talking about the thing this morning with Bill and Tom, it was really no big deal, but then they were joined by the other goths: a raven-haired girl with black fingernails, a silver-haired boy who always seemed aloof, and a tall, thin boy with black eyeliner. The girl spoke. “Actually, we all wanted to thank you. It was pretty cool of you to stick up for Sprat like that.”
Vlad’s smile grew. “Hey, no problem. It was really no big deal.”
The girl said, “Well, it is to us.”
“If you ever feel like hanging out-” Sprat began, but the girl cut him off.
“Yeah, if you ever want to, we’re cool with that, okay?” The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile as she glanced at Meredith and Henry. “We don’t bite. And contrary to popular opinion, we don’t dance around graveyards and raise the dead either.”
Her smile grew as she turned her attention back to Vlad. “I’m October, by the way. You know Sprat. The guy with the raccoon eyes is Andrew, and this silver-haired soul is Kristoff.”
Vlad nodded to each of them, and October continued. “So anyway, there’s this goth club in Stokerton called The Crypt. Maybe we could hang sometime.”
Vlad responded at first by blinking. The very idea that people he hadn’t known since kindergarten wanted to hang out with him weirded him out, but in a strangely cool way. Still… he wasn’t sure Nelly would be too keen on the idea of him spending time in anything that remotely resembled a nightclub. Vlad smiled sheepishly. “I’m not really much for clubs. But thanks anyway.”
October frowned, then flashed a fake smile to mask her disappointment. “Suit yourself.”
The goths turned collectively and were about four steps away from the table when Henry muttered, “ Thank God the trick-or-treaters left. I’m all out of candy.”
Vlad couldn’t snap his eyes to his drudge fast enough.
Henry smirked. “I mean, c’mon. Halloween’s over, guys.”
To his disgust, Meredith chuckled at Henry’s cruel quip.
Eyeing both of them, wondering exactly what made them think they were better than kids who chose to dress in black, Vlad released a tense breath and turned back to the goths, who turned around at the sound of his voice. “Hey, you guys. On second thought, I’ve been meaning to get out more, meet new people… I’d love to check out The Crypt with you guys sometime.”
October, Andrew, and Sprat met his eyes with smiles. Kristoff just kept on walking.
Henry and Meredith grew quiet. Vlad let them. Sure, maybe he was only agreeing to go with the goths to prove a point to his friends, to show them that they shouldn’t judge people based on whether or not they wear thick black eyeliner. But it was a point he needed to drive home, that different didn’t automatically equal bad.
He picked up his peanut butter, jelly, and blood-capsule sandwich and took a bite, ignoring their guilty glances.
The rest of lunch passed in tense silence.
Vlad strained against his leather bounds, but they were fastened tightly to his wrists, and there appeared to be no possibility of escaping. He strained his neck, but could barely see the room that he’d been trapped in. But he did recognize it.
The nightmare was always the same.
Above him hovered a dark figure, and out of the shadow that surrounded it appeared a silver blade. Moonlight glinted off its razor-sharp surface, and Vlad shivered with fear.
He closed his eyes tight. It was just a dream. Just a dream.
The man plunged the blade downward, ripping it through Vlad’s stomach. Pain lit up his body, and Vlad screamed.
Vlad’s screams continued until he rolled off his bed in a sweaty, tangled mess; his sheets were wrapped around his legs like boa constrictors. He scanned his dark bedroom and breathed a sigh of relief.
Just a dream.
He clutched his side and winced at the pain it caused him, then crawled back into bed.
It had to be a dream. What else could it be?
He lay awake in the dark until his legs jumped with energy. Maybe a moonlit stroll would calm his nerves.
Dressing quickly, he found his way down the stairs and past Amenti, who was curled up asleep on the corner of the couch, nestled in Nelly’s favorite sweater, shedding all over it in blissful kitty contentment.
He stepped out the door and buttoned his jacket, shivering in the cool air. He wasn’t exactly sure where he wanted to go; he only knew that he needed to move around until the nightmare had shaken completely from his mind. He headed north, content to walk the edges of Bathory until he was feeling a bit more like sleeping.
There was no sign of Eddie, something that improved Vlad’s troubled mood.
He passed houses, a small creek, and eventually found his way to Requiem Ravine, where the cops had found the body of Mr. Craig, Vlad’s English teacher. He paused, mourning the loss of such a great mentor and friend, before continuing along the town’s borders in an effort to quiet his mind. Within minutes, he’d found his way to an extremely familiar clearing.
Vlad looked around, remembering how D’Ablo had waited for him and Joss here last year. The images of that encounter, and of Joss’s betrayal, flooded his mind like dark water. He still couldn’t believe that Joss had staked him, or that one of his closest friends would purposely cause him such agonizing pain, and almost take his life. But Joss had. Worse still, he couldn’t believe how much he missed Joss’s company.
Getting staked had been a hard lesson in choosing one’s friends wisely, that was for sure.
The chill of autumn snaked its way inside Vlad’s jacket, and he shivered briskly before turning to head home. But on the ground, lying amidst dead leaves and half immersed in muddy earth, Vlad spied a coin. He plucked it from the ground and wiped the dirt away. It was bronze, and on one side had two large initials, written in calligraphy: S.S. He flipped it over and noted the symbols on the other side. A crescent moon on the left, the symbol for eternity on the right, and at its center, a wooden stake. Along the top, curving along the crest of the coin, was Slayer Society. Along the bottom it read for the good of mankind.
Vlad frowned in disgust. Joss must have dropped it that night, the night he’d tried unsuccessfully to rid the world of another vampire, the night he’d tried to murder Vlad with a sharp hunk of wood. Furious, he read the inscription again and swore under his breath. As if the Slayers’ murderous actions could be so easily disguised as being “for the good of mankind.” As if betraying your friend’s trust and putting him in the hospital could make you a humanitarian. Psychotic jerk, maybe. Humanitarian? Not so much.
Vlad almost threw the coin into the ravine, but then he squeezed it tight and placed it in his pocket. It would be a good reminder never to trust anyone so easily again.
He turned on his heel and headed home, the nightmare of Joss staking him replacing the one he’d been trying to forget.
9 THE PERFECT GIFT
VLAD TWISTED THE BLACK RIBBON around the knot of an inflated red balloon and tied it before letting the balloon go. It flew up toward the ceiling and then bobbed pathetically at the end of its tether. “How many of these did Nelly say to fill?”
Henry emptied one of the helium-filled balloons into his mouth. When he spoke, he sounded like a deranged Mickey Mouse. “I think she said fifty.”