beginning to feel safe once again.
The floorboards creaked slightly as he made his way inside, and that familiar acrid stench of smoke invaded his nostrils. He wasn’t exactly sure why he’d come here, only that he needed to be somewhere alone, somewhere that reminded him of who he was. He climbed the stairs and walked into his father’s office. Papers still littered the floor from when he and Henry had searched the office two years before. A fine layer of dust now covered them. Vlad sneezed, and the sound of it echoed through the house.
He ran a hand over the surface of his father’s desk, then whispered angry words that only his father could answer. “Who am I, Dad? What am I? Am I a vampire? A human? Both?”
He hesitated a moment, choking back horrified tears, then added, “Neither?”
His concern, the same concern that haunted his dreams, was that he would never really fit in anywhere. And he couldn’t help but wonder if Henry’s recent detachment was just another reminder that he wasn’t one hundred percent anything, only two halves… incomplete.
Sometimes he wondered if he would ever be whole.
Disgusted at the mess he and his potentially-former best friend had made, he knelt on the floor, plucked several papers from the floorboards, and stacked them neatly in an empty file box. The least he could do was put everything back in order. Besides, he was technically skipping school, so he needed something to do while he was hiding out until the last bell rang. With any luck, the school wouldn’t call Nelly. After his recent detention, he was pretty sure she’d come down hard on him for walking out in the middle of the day. Normally Vlad would have stuck it out, but today’s events called for truancy. After all, it wasn’t as if it would have done him any good to sit through physical science with Chelsea after Henry had chosen her over him.
Most of the papers Vlad had gathered up were boring-old tax returns, receipts for furniture, photocopies of various things that Vlad didn’t recognize. But then he came upon something he very much did recognize-his father’s handwriting. All it was was a simple list of things to buy, but what made the corners of Vlad’s mouth lift in a small smile was the note at the bottom:
Vlad folded the note and was about to tuck it into his pocket when he noticed a single word scribbled on the back of the list.
He read the word again, silently wondering what that word was doing on a list that had belonged to his father, let alone scribbled in his own handwriting. But then, maybe that was what Tomas had meant in his journal when he’d written that he had “suspicions” about his son. He must have known what an oddity it was for a human and a vampire to procreate, so of course he would have wondered if Vlad was the Pravus.
Tomas wasn’t the only one. Vlad couldn’t help but wonder if the story was true, if he were some subject of ancient prophecy.
But there was no way to know, as Vlad wasn’t too keen on the idea of testing out the checklist of traits that only the Pravus would have. Sunlight? No, thank you. Immortal? He wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot stake.
But one thing was for sure.
He had to learn as much about that prophecy as he could.
15 THE FEAST BEFORE THE KILL
IGNATIUS STARED UP AT THE SKY in blissful contentment. Not only was it a new moon, but the sky was overcast with thick black clouds, ensuring that his hypersensitive allergy to the sun’s rays would not emerge tonight. It would make for a luxuriously long ending to his hunt for the boy, and he would take his time with every stroke of his blade. The boy would bleed quickly, but the cuts would be oh so slow.
Nothing could stop the hunter tonight. No glinting of the sun’s light off the surface of the moon. No concerns about the boy’s human ward witnessing his actions. Ignatius had listened to her thoughts as she left the house an hour before-a double shift at the hospital would keep her away all night.
Now there would only be the boy, and the delicious slicing of his pretty skin.
But he had to be careful. He was famished, which always made for a better hunt, but it also increased the temptation to feed off the hunted during his cutting sessions. And he’d be damned if he was going to taint his palate with the bitter crimson of an arrogant half-breed. Better that he should complete his hunt on a full stomach than run the risk of draining his flawed captor.
As if in answer to his needs, a girl passed him on the sidewalk, her skin pale, purple streaks through her dark hair. Ignatius recognized her at once as one of the human children who frequented the front steps of the local high school each evening. Her name stuck on his tongue. It was a time, not a name, and had reminded him instantly of the smell of autumn and cool breezes. October.
He turned, following her quietly, daydreaming about the moments following his meal. He’d steal into the boy’s home stealthily and make his way up the stairs to his bedroom. Then, with a turn of the knob, enter the boy’s resting place.
October turned the corner, oblivious to the vampire following her.
Once he was in the boy’s room, Ignatius would unsheathe his favorite blade and, with its tip, draw the covers down, away from the sleeping boy’s form. And then…
“What are you doing?” A voice from the shadows. Ignatius hung back, lost in his fantasy, but not so lost that he would expose his presence and lose his meal.
October slowed her steps, but by her posture it was clear she’d been expecting the intruder. “I’m going home. What’s it look like?”
Another human, a boy with silver hair, stepped from the shadows, his lips pursed. “It looks like you’ve been inviting a dork like Vladimir Tod to hang with us without even asking my opinion.”
She shrugged coldly. “I don’t need your permission, Kristoff. If you don’t like him, you can find other people to hang out with. Besides, he’s not a dork. I think he’s interesting.”
Kristoff snarled. “Interesting? He’s boring. And about as far from being goth as you can get.”
“I don’t choose my friends because of labels. I choose them because they intrigue me.” She raised a stark eyebrow, her posture suddenly very defensive. “You used to be so open-minded, Kristoff. What happened to you?”
After a long, silent moment, the boy shrugged, sighing. “There’s just something about him. I don’t know what it is. But I don’t like it.”
“So don’t like it. But give him a chance. The way I gave you a chance,
Kristoff winced at the mention of his non-goth name and walked away without another word.
In waiting, Ignatius’s thirst had become dire. He had to feed, quickly, and get to his task. The sun would be up in five hours. He would need at least a quarter of that for the journey back to Stokerton. It wasn’t as much time as he’d hoped for, but his recent fast had weakened him, making waking from rest a drawn-out chore. But that was about to end.
He closed the gap between himself and the girl, and with a quick glance around them at the darkened windows of the houses that lined the street, he closed his hand around her arm. To his surprise, the girl threw her arm up, slamming her elbow into his Adam’s apple. Ignatius stumbled back for a moment, recoiling
