Sometimes, you just gotta let it all hang out.
He peeled the plastic wrap from the top of the small, plastic container and scooped a big spoonful of slushy blood into his mouth. The smell of late summer roses drifted in through the open arches from Mrs. Kiplingâs award-winning flower garden across the street. Vlad relaxed back into his dadâs chair and finished his snackâhis thoughts never far from what Otis had told him the last time they spoke regarding his late-night rendezvous, that DâAblo had many friends, so to be on his guard.
And Vlad had been on his guard. He spent his entire summer looking over his shoulder and making sure he wasnât being followed by anyone with fangs. It was exhausting. There had been no sign whatsoever of vengeful vampires on the prowl in Bathory. He was beginning to think Otis was paranoid.
He ran a finger across inside of the plastic container and licked it clean.
On the floor beside his dadâs old chair lay the book Otis had insisted he readâthe Compendium of Conscentia . But Vlad had affectionately begun referring to it as the Encyclopedia Vampyrica . It was several inches thick. On its cover were a strange symbol and two locks that could not be opened with a key. He picked it up and placed his hand on the bookâs cover. The glyph on the book, as well as the tattooed symbol on the inside of his left wristâtwo straight lines with three slashes between them, all encased in what looked like parenthesesâglowed brightly, and the locks clicked open with ease.
He flipped to the sticky note about a third of the way into the book and read the second paragraph with halting clarity.
A multitude of vampiric councils guard and keep Elysia and bound our brethren to each of the three-hundred-and-thirteen laws. Each council is composed of a president, vice president, secretary, academic affairs officer, incident control officer, events coordinator, and treasurer. The Elysian laws were laid out by the original Elysian council, which formed in the early Paleolithic periodâgifting us with power in numbers and the societal requirement of law and order.
Vlad sighed. Even vampire history was boring.
He flipped back several pages to another sticky note and ran his finger over a word that had continually surfaced in the book. Otis had told him time and time again not to concern himself with it. But there was a problem with that. Vlad was already quite concerned with the word.
Pravus .
Last year, as he perched in a tree above the heads of Otis and DâAblo, Vlad had heard DâAblo refer to him as the Pravus. He hadnât thought of it much at the time, but several passages referring to the Pravus in the vampire text had sent Vladâs imagination wandering. Heâd thrown himself into his studies and could almost read the Elysian code without any trouble at all, but still those passages eluded him. Almost as if he wasnât supposed to be reading them.
The voice of the goth girl drifted in through the windows. âKristoff! Andrew didnât mean it.â
âOh, he meant it. And he can bite me!â
At this, Vladâs ears perked up. Apparently, Andrew was this yearâs priest. Vlad crept out onto the ledge.
The goth kids were no longer sitting in their usual spot on the steps. Now the tall, silvery-haired goth was standing over the smallest of the groupâa boy with mesh gloves and spiky hair that drooped slightly at the ends. Vlad crouched, perching on the ledge, and leaned forward a bit. The goth girl was standing beside the other two, with her pale hands held out pleadingly between the two boys. A fourth goth was slouching against the light post, watching the scene with an air of disinterest.
The boy on the ground shrugged. âSorry, Kristoff. I didnât think youâd take it so personally.â
âIâm not taking any crap from you, Andrew!â The silver-haired goth straightened and stepped back,