Ninth Grade Slays by Heather Brewer Page A

making out, but try explaining that to Nelly), when he was supposed to be sucking down sodas at Eat, Bathory’s one and only diner. Sure, the name of the restaurant was Aunt Polly’s Dining Emporium, but nowhere on the front of the building was that listed. All it said, in big red and blue neon, was EAT.
    Vlad breathed a sigh of relief. No slayer. Not yet, anyway. "Uncle Otis. You could’ve dropped me a note or called or something. I didn’t think you were coming.”
    Otis raised a perplexed eyebrow. "Didn’t you get my letter, inviting you to Siberia with me?”
    Vlad shrugged. "Well, yeah. But that was a month ago. Where’d you go after that? I’ve got some questions I want to ask you about my abilities.”
    â€œHaven’t you been reading the book on vampire history your father left behind?”
    "Of course. But, Otis”—Vlad shook his head—"no book has all the answers. Besides, I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”
    The smile returned to Otis’s face. He placed a hand on Vlad’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ve missed you as well. As for where I’ve been . . . well, we’ll discuss that inside.”
    As they turned toward the house, Vlad felt a strange nudge in his mind. He glanced at Otis and clamped down on his thoughts. His uncle wrinkled his brow before following Vlad up the steps. Vlad was about to ask why Otis had been attempting to examine his thoughts, when the door opened and a flushed Nelly welcomed them with a surprised smile and a plate of steaming cookies. “Otis?”
    Vlad glanced at his uncle, whose eyes sparkled at Nelly. “How are you, Nelly? You look—”
    â€œCold? Because I’m cold.” Vlad nudged passed his aunt and sat on the stairs, where he removed his shoes and waited for the hushed whispers to end.
    Nelly glanced at Vlad. “Where’s your jacket?”
    Before Vlad could answer, Otis stepped inside and took the plate from Nelly. “Chocolate chip. My favorite. I wouldn’t suppose you could spare a little something to warm me up before I indulge.”
    Minutes later, Otis, Nelly, and Vlad were sitting around the dining room table, sipping from china teacups. Vlad’s cup matched Otis’s in that each was filled with microwaved blood, but Otis had barely touched his, focusing more, in a way that sent Vlad’s gag reflex crazy, on Nelly. As Nelly cleared the table, Vlad turned to Otis. “So, what have you been up to, traveling all over the world?”
    The happy glimmer in Otis’s eye faded, and it was clear his thoughts were in an unpleasant place. “I’ve been running, Vladimir. Running and trying to learn some things.”
    Vlad swallowed a lump of guilt. “Who have you been running from? Elysia? Is it because of helping me last year?”
    â€œPartly, yes. D’Ablo had many followers, and I broke many laws by helping you. The punishment, should they catch me, would be a most painful death. But there are other things. Darker things that I will not speak of. Suffice it to say we should enjoy our time together, Vladimir. Good things only rarely last.” Otis glanced over his shoulder at the window, as if suddenly fearful they weren’t alone. Instinctively, Vlad looked, too, but he saw nothing. He guessed that Otis was watching for whatever ghosts were haunting his thoughts.
    Vlad leaned in and whispered, “Otis, I need to know more about the slayer.”
    But Otis’s eyes were fixed on the window. He stood with purpose and crossed the room quickly. After a careful survey of the scene outside the window, he sighed wearily and rested his forehead against the glass. “Snow. Just snow.”
    Vlad approached with careful steps and placed a hand on Otis’s shoulder. “Maybe you should get some rest.”
    Without looking at him, Otis reluctantly shook his head. “No. You rest. You’ll need it tomorrow. We