"But Penny, he's so suspicious! Always disappearing at night, and smirking like he has a secret." Penelope sighed indulgently.
"Simon, I know that. But really, you need to stop obsessing. it's not healthy. And please stop following him. I don't think whatever he's doing is bad enough to warrant you spending all your time following him, and dragging me into it!" Simon looked abashed.
"You don't have to help me." He said softly. Penelope smiled softly at his downtrodden face.
"Of course I'll help you. I'm your friend. That's what friends do. Help each other even when they think that their friend is being stupid." Simon blushed. "However, please remember to be careful. Don't get caught in anything dangerous."
"So you do think he's doing something dangerous!" Simon said triumphantly. " Anyway, when we got involved in the selkies, you didn't mind that it was dangerous. Or with the serpent. Or with the gate. Or with the hares." Penelope looked at him through her purple cat eye glasses.
"Simon, I have no idea what Baz is doing. And honestly, if your theory that he's a vampire is correct," Simon started to speak, but Penelope cut him off. "then I really don't want you involved. And the other ones were to help people. They weren't just to satisfy your curiosity."
"But what if he's doing something dangerous? That could hurt people?"
"You have no proof. And anyways, you follow him to football practice. And violin lessons. Do you really think he's doing something sinister and evil there?" Simon shook his head, defeated.
"No. I just don't want to take my eyes off him."
"Okay, Simon. Now, let's practice for magic words." Simon followed her through the library, Penelope already talking about the correct emphasis for the second word.
Simon looked up suspiciously as Baz entered the room.
Baz slammed the door and sent a quick grimace in Simon's direction. (How did he manage to grimace that perfectly? Did he practice in front of the mirror?) Simon liked to call that face "The Simon Snow Special," because only directed towards Simon could Baz have that much disgust, arrogance, and ice on his face.
Baz opened his wardrobe and pulled out a Watford sweater, and slipped it over his head. Baz stepped in front the mirror on the door of his honey colored wardrobe door and re-knotted his purple and green tie. He ran long, pale fingers through his hair. Then he turned around.
Simon was there to bear witness, that yes, Baz could look even more flawless than he had when he had walked (well, stalked) through the door.
Simon tried to turn back to his book, but he found himself reading the same sentence over and over again, more aware of his infuriating roommate.
Baz had sat down on his bed, and was reading textbook, waving his wand around and murmuring spells in a crooning voice. Simon could feel the temperature in the room rising and falling, soft winds sometimes blowing his pages.
"Would you stop that?" Simon cried, exasperated. Baz quirked an eyebrow (Simon wished he could do that).
"Stop what?" It was a childish phrase, but Baz said it in such a smooth and cold voice, Simon still found himself flustered.
"Just stop!" Baz looked back at his book and irritably shot out spells faster. Simon tried to ignore it. Eventually, Baz stopped, reading quietly.
Simon got up and went in the bathroom, pulled his school shirt off in preparation to get into the school pajamas. However, he heard footsteps outside, and the door quietly closing. Simon yanked his shirt back over his head, buttoning some of the buttons hastily, and ran out of the bathroom.
What was Baz up to at this hour of the night? He opened the door to the room, and peered out into the hallway. No one was out there, but he could hear Baz's retreating footsteps down the stairs.
Simon hurried down the stairs, trying to be quiet. He saw Baz's retreating back, and Simon slowed down just a bit, so he was always just out of sight, but Simon could still know where he was.
He followed Baz down the twisting stairs of the tower, and through the school. Once, Baz nearly caught sight of Simon, but Simon darted around the corner just in time. Baz narrowed his eyes suspiciously, shook his uneasiness off, and continued.
When he got to the big wooden doors of the school, Baz pushed the door open easily. (How did he do that? Simon had to strain to open it, and he was in fairly good shape.) Simon pressed his ear to the door. He could hear Baz repeating a phrase over and over again (Simon couldn't quite hear what it was through the thick oak of the door) and then a creaking sound. He heard retreating footsteps outside, and he struggled to push the door open a crack. He peered out and saw Baz walking down the drawbridge. How had he done that? The drawbridge was always up from the moat at night.
Then Simon remembered the -spellwork?- that he had heard through the door. He watched through the crack as Baz got to the other side. He leaned over the bank and spit into the moat. Simon heard a hissing as that riled up the merwolves. Baz stepped away and started walking into the forest.
Simon waited until Baz was a few feet into the forest and the merwolves were back under the surface of the muddy water. Simon then pushed hard on the door, and hurried across the drawbridge, avoiding the merwolves snapping at the edges of of the wood.
Simon ran across the ground, hurrying into the woods. He slowed down as he approached Baz, trying not to snap twigs or crackle leaves. He hid behind trees, watching Baz.
Baz was kneeling in a clearing holding his wand into the air and saying in a singsong voice, "Doe, a Deer!" Simon waited with bated breath behind the tree as Baz kneeled on the forest floor, his black hair obscuring his face. Simon inhaled softly. What was Baz doing? Some sort of dark ritual?
Then a doe walked into the clearing, soft brown and innocent. She approached Baz, walking on her delicate legs. Then Baz struck.
His- wait, he had fangs?- flashed as he bit her. He gently brought her body over his knees, draining her. Simon could see her imperceptibly thinning. Then Baz set her body down on the ground. He stood up and licked the blood off his fangs. Simon saw his face clearly for the first time. His pupils were dilating, his fangs bright white. And while Simon saw Baz, Baz also saw Simon.
His eyes normalized and he gasped. "Simon? What... What are you doing here? You..." Baz wheeled backward in shock.
Simon approached warily. "You... You're actually a vampire. I mean. I suspected for years. But. You're really one." Baz looked warily at Simon. He opened his mouth, to say something, then changed his mind.
Simon circled Baz slowly. Baz didn't make a move, hanging his head. He seemed resigned to the fact that Simon had seen.
"You've got fangs. You drained a deer. And, your eyes were all weird." Baz sat down heavily, a strange movement on the graceful boy. He buried his head in his arms.
"Alright. You got me, Snow. I'm a bloody vampire. Go ahead and stake me, or whatever." Simon felt a strange sense of shock. He had found out that his nemesis was a vampire, which could get him in major trouble. It could get him out of Simon's way forever. But Simon realized he had no intent of telling anyone, not the Mage, or anyone.
Simon sat down next to Baz. "I'm not going to stake you." Baz snorted disbelievingly.
"Fine. Maybe you won't stake me. But you'll tell your precious Mage, and it'll be over anyway." Simon sighed.
"I won't tell anyone, I swear. Can you- Could we just talk about this?" Baz lifted his head out of his arms. To Simon's shock (this day was just getting more and more interesting) Baz sniffed.
"Fine. We'll talk." Baz spit weakly. Simon realized he didn't really know what to say.
"I mean. I don't really know what to say. You're a vampire. You really are. But. That doesn't matter as much as I thought it would. After all, you can't help it, can you?" Baz snorted again.
"No, of course I can help it! I just love being a vampire. Having to drain animals and being soulless and dead." Simon looked at Baz.
"You're not soulless." Baz quirked an eyebrow and opened his mouth to argue. "No, really, you're not. Maybe, you're arrogant, and insufferable and cold and sarcastic and a bit cruel. But you're alive." Simon put his hand on Simon's shoulder. "Okay?" Baz looked at him in disbelief. He, the ever eloquent one, seemed to be struggling for words.
"But. You hate me?" He said it as if it was a question.
"No." Simon said softly. He realized it was true. "No, I don't hate you. You annoy me, you infuriate me, you piss me off, but I don't hate you." Baz looked at the ground.
"Oh. I guess you're not that bad either." They sat in silence for a while longer, in the clearing under the stars, with the doe's body on the ground.
Finally, Simon broke the silence the only way he knew how. He rifled in his pocket for a bit until he found what he was looking for. "Here. I've got a bit of a mint aero bar left. It's a bit melted, but it should still be good." He broke off a bit off it. "You want some?" Baz hesitated. Then he took it.
"Thanks." He took a wary bite. "These are my favorite." Simon smiled.
"Me too." They sat in silence, a wary peace, under the stars. Simon looked above.
Somehow, he could feel it, things were going to be different.