Free The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod: Twelfth Grade Kills by Heather Brewer Page A

indicating that Tomas had the right to know all of it. Fortunately, Vlad agreed. Then Vikas began. “Vlad traveled to New York to accompany his uncle to his trial. But in a rather shocking turn of events, Vlad’s own pretrial was announced. It was unexpected and completely against any context of law that the Council of Elders has ever acknowledged. It was shocking to hear his name fly from Em’s lips. Of course, now ... your return changes all that, Dyavol.”
    “How, exactly?” Tomas’s eyes grew wide, almost fearful. For a moment, the bloodwine released its bleary hold on him.
    Vikas and Vlad exchanged knowing glances. At their silent response, Tomas darted his eyes to his son. “Vlad. Tell me.”
    Vlad pushed his chair back silently, and stood. He didn’t know how to tell his dad that he had to choose between turning his father over to Elysia or facing his own demise. He moved to the sink and tossed the contents of his goblet into it. The bloodwine splashed against the sink’s insides and swirled down the drain. Crimson against stainless steel. Down the drain—just as Vlad’s everything was about to be. He couldn’t turn his father in. So death would come for him. He had no choice.
    Vlad leaned against the counter for a moment, taking a deep breath. He blew it out slowly before turning around and meeting his father’s gaze. Then, like a coward, he turned to Vikas. “What good will telling him do, Vikas? No one can stop this; no one can help me.”
    Vikas held up a calming hand. “One man can help you, Mahlyenki Dyavol. Your father. Now tell him. Tell him what it is that Em expects you to do.”
    Tomas paused briefly at hearing Vlad’s nickname, then turned to face his son. “What can I do, Vlad? I’ll do anything.”
    Vlad’s hands were shaking. He looked from Vikas, who nodded encouragement, to his father, who was waiting on edge. There was only one thing that Em wanted. “Em says that I should turn you in by New Year’s Eve, or face my trial and expect death. But I can’t do that, Dad. I can’t turn you over to her. She’s a monster.”
    Tomas returned his goblet to the table with a thump. His tone shifted slightly, as if he was losing patience with his son. “You should have told me. The moment you saw me, you should have said something.”
    Vlad’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Why do you sound angry?”
    “Because I am angry. Not at you. At myself. For running away in fear, for putting you through hell, thinking that I was helping you, thinking that I was protecting you all this time. But no. I was making it worse!” Tomas’s voice had risen, his eyes growing moist with anger and sorrow, regret and frustration. “Up until this point, I have failed you as a father, Vlad. But no more. I will face Elysian justice this December, and nothing will change my mind about that.”
    A long silence passed. His dad held his gaze, and Vlad’s heart sank with understanding. His dad would rather die than hurt him again. No matter what Vlad said or did, he was going to lose his family all over again. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I’ll be damned if you’re going to take my dad away from me again after all of this time.”
    The room grew terribly quiet.
    Vlad set his jaw and glared at his dad, the man he’d missed so much since the day of the fire, since the day he’d lost everything. His words were sharp, like dagger blades, and aimed straight at Tomas.
    Tomas, who’d left him behind.
    Tomas, who’d made him believe that his parents were both gone forever.
    Vlad shook his head, overwhelmed with emotions. Anger at losing his parents. Anger at the possibility of losing his dad again. “Don’t. Just don’t. I don’t want to hear another word.”
    Vikas clucked his tongue. “Vladimir, that is no way to speak to your—”
    Tomas raised a hand, silencing Vikas’s chastising interruption. His eyes never left Vlad’s, but he didn’t speak. He was waiting, waiting for Vlad to have his say.
    “I