Tenth Grade Bleeds by Heather Brewer Read Free Book Online

D’Ablo wanted the journal, there was a solid reason for it—one that wasn’t merely sentimental. “And if I offered you some pictures or a few of his favorite books?”
    D’Ablo shook his head, a wave of low laughter escaping him. He’d grown tired of this game. In a blink he was inches in front of Vlad, squeezing his leather-covered hand tightly around Vlad’s throat, until Vlad could feel his lungs tighten in panic. Vlad tore at D’Ablo’s hands, but his attacker held fast, whispering bluntly into his ear. “ The journal or your life, boy. I’ll give you some time to think it over.”
    Then, just as suddenly as he’d attacked, D’Ablo released his grip and turned toward the door. Vlad coughed and gasped as air entered his lungs once again. D’Ablo’s hand was on the knob when he managed to choke out, “That’s not gonna be easy if the Pravus can’t be killed.”
    D’Ablo smirked and opened the door. He met Vlad’s eyes and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. But you’ll see soon enough.”
    Vlad blinked, utterly confused. He reached out with his mind, calling to Otis for help . . . but Otis was silent.
    As D’Ablo stepped outside, he spoke again, this time without looking back. “Sweet dreams.”
    His words were followed by chilling laughter.

6
    IN ANTICIPATION OF BLOOD
    I GNATIUS SLIPPED THE CURVED BLADE into the leather holster on his leg. It wasn’t the only tool he would need in torturing the Tod boy, but it was by far his favorite. The blade was an extension of himself, and had shed nearly as much blood. They were one. Symbiotic, in a way. The blade hungered for blood, but needed Ignatius’s actions and strength to acquire it. And Ignatius . . . he hungered for justice, something only the blade could provide for him. Soon they would taste both.
    Lying on the table was a stack of papers, all stamped with the official seal of the Stokerton council. The top paper held the signatures of every council member. They had granted him official permission to hunt the boy at last. It was about time.
    Now Ignatius’s only concern was how to find the boy alone . . . and in total darkness.
    His allergy to the sun—so severe that he would burn even from the light that reflected off the moon at night, so terrible that it could not be overcome by mere sunblock—was an embarrassment that he had dealt with since the moment he’d been reborn into vampiric society. He had never let it hold him back from completing a task. Never. And it wouldn’t stop him this time.
    He would capture Vladimir Tod . . . and make him bleed until his screams were silenced.

7
    HALLOWEEN
    V LAD SUCKED THE SWEET CRIMSON LIQUID through a straw, careful not to smudge his now green face. Dressing as Frankenstein (or, technically, Frankenstein’s monster) for Matthew’s annual Halloween party turned out to be a bit more challenging than he’d thought, and he hadn’t even left the house yet. The makeup was a pain to put on, let alone keep on. And the bolts he’d attached to his neck with FX putty kept drooping. Still, it wasn’t as if the costume or the party or even D’Ablo’s visit over two months ago was stressing him out—even though, admittedly, Vlad had been watching around every corner for D’Ablo’s return. It was Henry.
    â€œI just don’t understand what made you change your mind about going, that’s all. We always go to Matthew’s Halloween party together.” Vlad frowned at Henry, who was leaning up against the kitchen counter sans costume, his arms crossed in front of him. “Is it because Meredith is coming with me? Because it’s not like you’d be a third wheel or anything.”
    â€œIt’s not that.” Henry shook his head. “I’m just getting too old for this kinda stuff.”
    Vlad gaped openly at his best friend.