Eighth Grade Bites by Heather Brewer Page B

“Where is Tomas?”
    Vlad raised a perplexed eyebrow. The man couldn’t possibly mean his dad. Walking carefully out onto a branch, Vlad perched on the limb and listened.
    â€œI can’t provide you with information I don’t have.” Otis looked at the ground at his feet and lowered his voice so that Vlad had to strain to hear him. “The boy will lead me to him. Give him time.”
    The man in black stepped forward, his body suddenly stiff, anxious. “You’ve located the Pravus?”
    Otis met the man’s eyes with a stubborn glance. “I’ve been in contact with Vladimir, yes.”
    Vlad leaned so far forward at the mention of his name that he had to steady himself with his hand on another branch or he’d have fallen on Mr. Otis’s head. Now that would have been an awkward moment.
    After a moment of silence, the man placed his arm on the roof of Otis’s car and drummed his fingers with a decided lack of patience. “Why are you hiding your thoughts from me, Otis? And why haven’t I been able to read the minds of the townspeople? You’ve found a connection to Tomas after the council has searched for him for fourteen long years, and you haven’t informed anyone? Why? What are you up to?”
    Otis glanced up at the branch that Vlad was perched on. Vlad held his breath. He couldn’t possibly be seen from this distance, especially not with the cover of darkness. Yet Vlad swore he could feel Otis’s eyes on him.
    After a nerve-rackingly long moment, Otis returned his attention to the man in front of him, but he didn’t speak.
    The man grabbed Otis by the collar and hissed, “If you gave those people the Tego charm to block my telepathy—”
    Otis laughed, but his posture suggested he was ready to defend himself if need be. “You worry too much. I’m on your side. Remember? I want to find Tomas just as much as you do.”
    The man relaxed his grip on Otis’s collar and took a step back. “Then explain to me what’s going on here.”
    Otis smiled, his eyes chastising. “Have you considered that Tomas may have given the Tego charm to any number of Bathory citizens? He is trying to elude us, after all.”
    The man searched Otis’s eyes and nodded. “I suppose it’s possible.”
    A tingling sensation had begun at Vlad’s toes and was spreading upward. His foot had fallen asleep. He sat, allowing his numb foot time to stop tingling. The branch creaked softly beneath him.
    The man’s eyes darted to the tree Vlad was sitting in. Once again, Vlad didn’t breathe. “Did you hear something?”
    Otis placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and directed him back to the sidewalk. “Being away from Elysia is making you paranoid, D’Ablo. Go home. Get some rest. When I locate Tomas, I’ll contact you.”
    After D’Ablo had disappeared down the street, Otis turned and walked back to the tree. He looked up at the branch of the large oak, his eyes searching.
    From the bushes near the sidewalk, Vlad breathed a very tense, very quiet sigh of relief.

11
    MR. OTIS COMES TO DINNER
    V AMPIRES DRINK BLOOD.SLEEP IN coffins,and fear garlic.” Mr. Otis stood in front of the class, dressed in a black suit and a cheap vinyl cape not so different from the one Vlad had worn on Halloween. Leaning against the desk, he looked at Vlad with a curious glint in his eye and smiled before turning toward the chalkboard, where he’d taped various artists’ interpretations of vampires over the centuries. Vlad paid special attention to the Hungarian countess and the Transylvanian prince. Were they real vampires, too? Relatives of his?
    Mr. Otis turned back to the class and stared at him intently. Vlad shifted in his seat. Several of his classmates looked from their teacher to Vlad. Mr. Otis blinked, awakening from whatever dreamland had occupied his mind for a minute. “Vlad, I