Read Online The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills by Heather Brewer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Brewer
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shoulder, but Otis shook it away. “Forgive him if you want, nephew. I have better things to do.”
Vlad’s heart felt heavy, hollow. Here he was, standing between the two men who meant the most to him in this world, and he’d never felt so unhappy before. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. “Uncle Otis, please don’t leave.”
Otis turned away then and Tomas took a step after him, desperation filling his tone. “So what you’re saying is that I left him ... like I left you, when you needed me the most?
With barely a pause beforehand, Otis whipped around, shoving Vlad out of the way. His fist flew through the air, connecting with Tomas’s eye. Tomas flew back several feet, landing on the ground with a thump. Dazed, Tomas sat up and touched his eye gingerly.
Otis walked away without another word.
Tomas sighed, his shoulders sagging. He watched after his brother, so quiet, absolutely overwhelmed by the severity of his mistake.
And it was just that. A mistake, a poor decision that he had made, hoping to protect his son. Even Vlad could see that.
After a moment, Tomas looked up and met Vlad’s eyes, his cheeks flushed. The puffy bruise around his eye was already healing with vampiric speed, turning from purple to blue to green to yellow right before Vlad’s eyes. In seconds, it looked as if the punch had never happened. “Your uncle is a difficult man. Stubborn. Terribly stubborn.”
After a pause, Vlad helped his father to his feet and turned to follow Otis back to the house. “He may be, but he does have a point.”
The walk back to Vlad’s old house was short, brisk, and quiet ... too quiet. He could hear his father’s footsteps behind him.
One thing was sure. If Otis could see Tomas too, then Vlad wasn’t crazy. The thought made him breathe a sigh of relief. But his uncle had raised some good questions. Questions that sent a prickle of angry electricity over Vlad’s nerves. Why had his dad waited so long to reveal himself? And where had he been this entire time?
Vlad pulled open the back door and walked in, surprised to see Otis having a frantic conversation with Nelly who cut him off the moment she noticed her ward. The door behind Vlad opened and Tomas stepped inside. Awkwardly, almost sheepishly, he smiled and approached Nelly with open arms. “Nelly.”
Nelly’s face paled. For a moment, Vlad thought he spied the glimmer of tears. “Tomas. You’re ... you’re ...”
“Alive, yes.” Tomas looked reproachful. “I’m sorry, Nelly. So very sorry.”
“You should be. You’ve ruined that boy’s life, Tomas. He blamed himself for your death. And for Mell—” Nelly’s trembling hand found her mouth and covered it in hopeful sorrow, her engagement ring twinkling in the low light.
But Tomas shook his head in reply to an unasked question. Mellina was dead.
Tears welled in Nelly’s eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks. She shook her head. Her tone remained calm, but Vlad could tell that she was furious. “Damn you, Tomas Tod. Damn you for every tear you made that boy shed. Damn you for every worried thought in his head. Mellina would never have—”
“I did it for him, Nelly. I left to protect Vlad.” Tomas’s words rang true, but even so, his reasons didn’t sit well with Vlad’s guardian. Or Vlad.
“Did it ever occur to you that he might have been better off with one parent than with neither?”
“He was better off. He had you.” A small, charming smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Vlad wondered how anyone could resist that charm.
But then Nelly slapped his dad so hard that the sound echoed across the room. She moved out the door, Otis on her heels, without another word.
Tomas stood there, looking hurt. His cheek had flushed pink, but quickly paled again. “I suppose I deserved that.”
Vlad was still angry, but he felt guilty for feeling that way. His dad couldn’t have intended any harm in doing what he did. And then when he finally comes back, to right
Vlad’s heart felt heavy, hollow. Here he was, standing between the two men who meant the most to him in this world, and he’d never felt so unhappy before. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. “Uncle Otis, please don’t leave.”
Otis turned away then and Tomas took a step after him, desperation filling his tone. “So what you’re saying is that I left him ... like I left you, when you needed me the most?
With barely a pause beforehand, Otis whipped around, shoving Vlad out of the way. His fist flew through the air, connecting with Tomas’s eye. Tomas flew back several feet, landing on the ground with a thump. Dazed, Tomas sat up and touched his eye gingerly.
Otis walked away without another word.
Tomas sighed, his shoulders sagging. He watched after his brother, so quiet, absolutely overwhelmed by the severity of his mistake.
And it was just that. A mistake, a poor decision that he had made, hoping to protect his son. Even Vlad could see that.
After a moment, Tomas looked up and met Vlad’s eyes, his cheeks flushed. The puffy bruise around his eye was already healing with vampiric speed, turning from purple to blue to green to yellow right before Vlad’s eyes. In seconds, it looked as if the punch had never happened. “Your uncle is a difficult man. Stubborn. Terribly stubborn.”
After a pause, Vlad helped his father to his feet and turned to follow Otis back to the house. “He may be, but he does have a point.”
The walk back to Vlad’s old house was short, brisk, and quiet ... too quiet. He could hear his father’s footsteps behind him.
One thing was sure. If Otis could see Tomas too, then Vlad wasn’t crazy. The thought made him breathe a sigh of relief. But his uncle had raised some good questions. Questions that sent a prickle of angry electricity over Vlad’s nerves. Why had his dad waited so long to reveal himself? And where had he been this entire time?
Vlad pulled open the back door and walked in, surprised to see Otis having a frantic conversation with Nelly who cut him off the moment she noticed her ward. The door behind Vlad opened and Tomas stepped inside. Awkwardly, almost sheepishly, he smiled and approached Nelly with open arms. “Nelly.”
Nelly’s face paled. For a moment, Vlad thought he spied the glimmer of tears. “Tomas. You’re ... you’re ...”
“Alive, yes.” Tomas looked reproachful. “I’m sorry, Nelly. So very sorry.”
“You should be. You’ve ruined that boy’s life, Tomas. He blamed himself for your death. And for Mell—” Nelly’s trembling hand found her mouth and covered it in hopeful sorrow, her engagement ring twinkling in the low light.
But Tomas shook his head in reply to an unasked question. Mellina was dead.
Tears welled in Nelly’s eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks. She shook her head. Her tone remained calm, but Vlad could tell that she was furious. “Damn you, Tomas Tod. Damn you for every tear you made that boy shed. Damn you for every worried thought in his head. Mellina would never have—”
“I did it for him, Nelly. I left to protect Vlad.” Tomas’s words rang true, but even so, his reasons didn’t sit well with Vlad’s guardian. Or Vlad.
“Did it ever occur to you that he might have been better off with one parent than with neither?”
“He was better off. He had you.” A small, charming smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Vlad wondered how anyone could resist that charm.
But then Nelly slapped his dad so hard that the sound echoed across the room. She moved out the door, Otis on her heels, without another word.
Tomas stood there, looking hurt. His cheek had flushed pink, but quickly paled again. “I suppose I deserved that.”
Vlad was still angry, but he felt guilty for feeling that way. His dad couldn’t have intended any harm in doing what he did. And then when he finally comes back, to right
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