Vlad hesitated.
“I’m not sure I want it anymore, Otis.” The backs of the pages now contained a horrible memory. After all, it had been a tool for his demise-something that troubled Vlad deeply. Why would his father’s journal contain such a horrible ritual, especially knowing that Vlad was the only vampire born to a human mother?
“I’m sure your father had sound reasons for not destroying the ritual when he had the chance.” Otis’s lips formed a thin line as he nodded at Vlad. “We just have to trust that.”
Vlad was ashamed to admit that he didn’t trust that… and that he wasn’t sure why, exactly. “Why did my dad’s journal contain the ritual that could destroy me?”
“I don’t know, Vladimir. Maybe he was protecting you by keeping it close and hidden-out of the hands of the likes of D’Ablo. Or maybe he wasn’t even aware that it was contained on the backs of those pages.”
Vlad thought for a moment. “Do you think that D’Ablo put it there before he gave the journal to him?”
Otis’s forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows came together. “What are you talking about? Vikas gave your father that journal.”
“No, D’Ablo did. He told me so. There’s even a D on the inside cover. For D’Ablo.”
“Is that what he told you to get you to give him the journal?” Otis shook his head and laughed, his voice warm and friendly in Vlad’s mind. “No, Vlad. The D stands for Dyavol, the nickname that Vikas used for your father. The same that he uses for you. Mahlyenki Dyavol. Besides, when a vampire gifts another vampire with something, we always inscribe our name in Elysian code, not in English.” Otis placed the journal into Vlad’s hand on his way out the door. “If for no other reason, to remember him by.”
Vlad squeezed the journal tightly. It had been a lie. Just another lie told to him by D’Ablo. And he had stupidly believed it.
Vlad followed his uncle to the elevator.
When the three of them stepped inside, they were greeted by the Muzak version of “ Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance. Vlad and Henry exchanged looks of horror, and Vlad sighed. “Is nothing sacred?”
26 SWEET RELEASE
NELLY PICKED UP A LONG WOODEN SPOON from the counter and stirred the concoction on the stove that she kept referring to as “soup.” Vlad grinned. Otis was looking rather exhausted, not from his encounter with Elysia, but from all of Nelly’s pampering. “Nelly, darling, I’m not ill. You can’t treat a vampire’s malnourishment with chicken soup. How many times must I tell you that?”
Nelly shook her head-desperate, Vlad wagered, to have some sort of control over the situation. She’d been trying to nurse Otis every day over the last four months. Otis had healed completely in a week, but Nelly insisted on mothering him. It was enormously funny to watch. “You had three broken ribs, a cracked tibia, countless abrasions, and a horrific amount of blood loss, Otis.”
“Yes, but through all of that, I didn’t catch the flu.” He caught Nelly’s hand and pleaded with her with his eyes. “Please. Stop making me eat soup. What I’d really like is a nice mulled glass of O positive.”
Nelly lost herself for a moment in his eyes, and Vlad began to feel uncomfortable, as if he were intruding. Finally she sighed, relenting. “Okay, but I’m mulling it myself. I have to do something to help.”
Vlad flexed his well-healed wrist and pulled the Slayer coin from his pocket, turning it over in his hand. It felt like a lucky charm to him now. After all, it had been there in the clearing when he was staked last year-and survived. It had been in his front pocket during his most recent struggle with D’Ablo, which he’d walked away from virtually unscathed. Sure, it had come from a boy who was intent on killing him, but that boy had failed. In a bizarre kind of way, maybe the coin was lucky to Vlad.
“Where did you get a Slayer coin, Vladimir?”
Vlad shrugged. “It belonged to Joss. I found it.”
Otis nodded, looking somewhat troubled by the coin’s presence.
Vlad slipped the coin back into his pocket, then looked at his uncle. “How long will you stay?”
“ Vladimir, you’ve asked me that every day I’ve been here. And every day I have told you that I await Vikas’s letter advising me on what to do next. As his letter hasn’t yet arrived-” His words broke off and his eyes flicked to Nelly suddenly, as if he’d heard something in her thoughts that disturbed him.
With a sigh, Nelly pulled a thick parchment envelope from her apron pocket. “I was going to wait until after dinner to give this to you. It arrived yesterday.”
Otis’s eyes moistened for a moment. “I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, Nelly. You mustn’t think such things about me.”
Nelly dried her eyes on her apron and gave Otis’s arm a squeeze as she handed him the letter. “I know. I just… hoped you’d change your mind and stay.”
Vlad remained quiet, both in speech and in thought. The very idea of Otis leaving again was breaking his heart.
Otis opened the envelope and read Vikas’s letter, his eyes not betraying even a hint of what was on the page. With a contented sigh, he folded the letter up and placed it back in the envelope. “ That’s that, then.”
Before his uncle could say anything else, Vlad stood and left the room. It was too much for him to bear, losing Otis over and over again like this. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
But the moment his foot hit the bottom step, Otis called with his thoughts. “A word, if you would, Vladimir.”
Vlad hesitated, but finally returned to the kitchen. Nelly had her arms around Otis and was squeezing him tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Vlad filled with venom, suddenly furious that Otis was breaking her heart like this again. Clearly, she loved Otis, and all he seemed to do was hurt her. Vlad balled his fists and glared at his uncle.
Otis slid the letter across the table and brushed Nelly’s tears away with gentle kisses. Vlad opened the letter and read.
Dear Otis,
I trust this letter finds you well. I apologize deeply for my delay, but your recent adventures with the president of the Stokerton council have caused quite a stir in all of Elysia-indeed a stir that will not be easily settled, I think-and I have been engaged in numerous council meetings all over the world, discussing your fate and pleading with our brethren for a moment of open-mindedness.
And so it is with enormous pleasure that I write to share with you this happy news. It has been decided by six of the nine councils that you should be entrusted to my care until your trial. The Stokerton council was less than pleased with this decision, of course, which isn’t surprising in the least, considering the torment that you and your nephew have bestowed upon D’Ablo, who I am sad to report is still alive and recovering, but for his severed hand. It troubles me greatly that the Stokerton council has agreed that even though he is scarred, D’Ablo should be allowed to continue his presidency until this matter is resolved. This, as you know, is a very strange move. D’Ablo’s deformity is a disgrace. If he were any other vampire, he would be banished from Elysia and shunned. Why should our laws, our traditions bend at the will of one vampire? I can assure you that there are many in the other councils who will be watching this situation with great interest. I, for one, would like to know what he hopes to accomplish.