A momentary flash of fear crossed Henry’s eyes.
“-and right now I’m just not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Okay. But we’ll talk about it later, right?”
Vlad winced at his friend’s reaction, but understood it completely. “Of course. I should get home. Nelly’s going to be irate that I was out so late.”
Henry shrugged, as if the solution were obvious. “Why don’t you just crash here for the night?”
“And tell her what?”
“ Tell her it was my fault you got in so late, and I begged you to sleep over.”
Vlad mulled this over for a minute. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d stayed at Henry’s house without letting Nelly know in advance. Of course, there was the maddening scent of Henry’s blood to be considered…
“You’ll be safe. I promise,” he said. “I won’t attack you or anything.”
Henry frowned and grabbed one of the pillows from his bed. He tossed it to Vlad. “Who are you trying to convince, Vlad? Me or you?”
Vlad bit his bottom lip and lay down on the floor, curling up on his side. He was too terrified to admit that he didn’t know the answer to Henry’s question.
Vlad tried desperately to tug his arms free, but the straps held fast, digging into his wrists and ankles, refusing to release him.
The shadowed man lifted the blade over his chest and plunged it deep between his ribs. Vlad screamed, howling from the pain. As his torturer pulled the knife out and stabbed him again, he lost his voice, unable to express with mere shrieking how unbearable the pain was. Blood gushed from his torso, spilling onto the floor below.
His torturer leaned forward, into the light, and Vlad was not at all surprised to see his face, which was twisted in an expression of immense satisfaction.
D’Ablo.
“Vlad! Vlad!” Henry shook him awake from his nightmare.
Vlad sat up, eyes wide. His hands were trembling as he combed back the hair from his sweat-drenched face.
“You were screaming. Are you okay?”
Vlad shook his head. It was his nightmare again. His never-ending nightmare. “ The journal, Henry. He wants the journal. And he won’t stop sending me these nightmares until I give it to him.”
“I thought you were convinced the dreams were a vision of the future.”
“I think maybe I was wrong. I think they’re a threat.” Vlad gasped, trying to calm his nerves, and failing miserably. “I’m giving it to him. I just can’t take this anymore.”
Henry’s tone softened. “Are you sure you want to do that? You know he probably has some pretty twisted reasons for wanting it.”
Vlad lay back down, phantom pain still lighting up his chest. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”
Henry paused, then said, “Well, do what you gotta do, man. Now get some sleep, okay?”
Vlad curled up on his side, his fingers still trembling. That was it, then. The decision was made. He had to hand over the journal to D’Ablo.
He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that he’d memorized every page and there was nothing within it that D’Ablo shouldn’t necessarily see. But still sleep came very slowly. And when it did, it was filled with more nightmares.
The worst Vlad had yet experienced.
20 GROUNDED
NELLY’S VOICE HAD RISEN SO HIGH that it had left the realm of hysterical about five octaves ago. “ Vladimir, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. First, you nearly bite Meredith. Then you get detention for skipping class and kissing in the supply room-”
“It was a broom closet, and I wasn’t skipping class.”
“-and now you’re hanging out with a new set of friends who keep you out all hours of the night, with no explanation of where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing.”
Vlad took a deep breath, buying time to go over his and Henry’s story once more in his mind before speaking it out loud. “I told you, Nelly. We went to this club in Stokerton, and afterward I ran into Henry. He said he’d give me a ride home, but he got distracted by a girl, and then I stayed over at his place so I wouldn’t wake you up.”
Nelly shook her head. “And just how long did it take you and Henry to come up with that feeble excuse?”
Vlad pursed his lips. Nelly was smarter than he’d been giving her credit for.
When she spoke again, her voice cracked. “And exactly why is the front of the shirt you wore last night covered in what looks like dried blood?”
Vlad stared at the shirt for a moment, trying to find the right words. There was no way he could tell her the truth, no way he could burden her with his horrific, beastly act. Meeting her gaze, he saw suspicion lurking in her eyes. He replied with a blatant lie, mostly so they could both go on pretending that he was a normal teenager. Better that way. Let Nelly have her delusions. “I got sloppy with a snack pack, okay?”
The hurt expression on Nelly’s face cut Vlad deep, but it was better than telling her the truth and seeing fear there instead. She dropped his shirt back into the laundry basket and lowered her voice, as well as her eyes. “You’re grounded. One week for doing whatever you were doing last night. And one week for lying to me about it. Now go upstairs.”
A lump formed in Vlad’s throat. Nelly had never spoken to him that way before, or sent him to his room. He knew he deserved far, far worse for what he was putting her through. But it was better to lie and hurt her some than tell the truth and break her heart completely.
With a slumped posture, Vlad made his way up the stairs to his room, closing the door softly behind him. Before the door closed entirely, Vlad thought he heard soft weeping from downstairs. The sound of it made his chest ache.
He lay on his bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about his conversation with Nelly or the fact that he missed Otis more than ever. He thought a little about Meredith, about his almost uncontrollable hunger, and wondered exactly how he could protect her from his dire thirst. Drinking from Snow had been paradise-a paradise he didn’t want to revisit with Meredith. But how could he save her from his hungry advances without distancing himself?
Mostly he focused on how he was going to give D’Ablo the journal. Being grounded complicated matters, but not by much. He contemplated calling Henry, to let him know that he was going to sneak into Stokerton tonight to pay D’Ablo a visit-after all, somebody should know his whereabouts, just in case something happened-but he wasn’t entirely sure he would be allowed a phone call. After several minutes, he cracked open his door and slowly made his way downstairs.
Nelly was sitting on the couch, quietly flipping through the pages of a magazine that Vlad was almost certain she wasn’t reading. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a long moment, unsure of what he should say. Finally, he cleared his throat softly. When she didn’t look up, he knew she was angry, but he wasn’t
