"Dad," Vlad said, rapping smartly on his father's coffin. "Wake up! It's my birthday."
"Mmm, yes," his father's voice droned through the coffin's wood. The lid creaked open, and the Count rose steadily from his place of rest.
Vlad flashed his teeth. "Race you." He sped away, sniggering.
But it was over before it started. By the time Vlad arrived in the dining hall, the Count was already perched on his throne, legs crossed. His expression was smug. "Face it," he crooned with no small amount of satisfaction, examining his nails. "You just can't beat 600 years of practice."
Vlad laughed.
"You seem cheery." The Count stood, gliding over to a large, suspiciously coffin-shaped present by the head of the table. "Open this one first." Vlad rolled his eyes.
"I wonder what it could be." Vlad sped over to it anyway, shredding the giftwrap to pieces. His arms were a blur as bits of shiny black paper went flying.
"Whoa." The coffin was metal, much to Vlad's surprise, and rounded; it was shaped somewhat like a bullet, although it was flat on one side. The whole thing looked like a person-sized bomb shelter. "This is actually pretty cool, Dad. Thanks!"
"You're having a little too much fun, doing that," Robin said, in reference to the bits of giftwrap still raining from the ceiling. He ducked, batting at his hair as a larger piece fell on his head.
"What's next?" Vlad asked, by way of response.
Ingrid, who was whispering something in Will's ear from the opposite end of the table, stopped long enough to sneer at him.
Vlad started in on the rest of his presents. There was a ceremonial metal goblet and dagger from Attila and Krone, a card from his mother, an ankh ring from Uncle Harvey, and a cat toy and food bowl, courtesy of his sister. That was three presents from Ingrid, altogether. He squinted suspiciously in her direction. That meant she wanted something. But what?
He shook his head. Everything he had. Obviously.
When he got to the end of the pile, he tried not to be too disappointed as he realized there hadn't been any gifts from Robin.
At some point, the Count stood to declare a toast in his honor, but Vlad hardly noticed.
He can't have forgotten, can he? He's never not gotten me a present before.
Granted, Robin's presents were usually terrible. Still...
Vlad was quiet for the rest of the meal; he poked at his food, pushing the suspicious-looking grey lumps on his plate around in circles with his fork. He smiled when appropriate, and answered any and all questions directed at him, but otherwise stayed silent.
It was only when Renfield began taking their plates away that Robin finally made eye contact with Vlad. The other boy waited until the Count was preoccupied, then gave Vlad a meaningful look and mouthed the word later.
Vlad nodded, and, though he was burning with curiosity, decided not to push the issue. So, Robin hadn't forgotten about him. But what could he have gotten him that he didn't want the others to see?
He waited as long as he could bear it, keeping silent until all the dishes were gone. "Say—Robin," he said innocently. "Do you want to go play some chess? Upstairs?" He paused meaningfully, glancing at his father, who was busy scolding Renfield about something or other. "Now?"
Robin winked. "Sure thing."
The two of them stood, turning for the stairs, but before they could make it to the door the Count blocked their path, glowering.
"Vladimir. Surely you're forgetting about something." He waited. "Our father and son excursion?" At Vlad's continued look of ignorance, the Count put an arm around his son's shoulder, leading him to the moonlit window.
His eyes shone with pride as he stared out beyond the castle grounds. "It'll be wonderful, Vlad—just you and me, prowling in the dark of night. Those sheep won't know what bit them." He chuckled darkly. "At last: after all these years, we'll finally be able to hunt together."
"Oh yeah, the hunt." Vlad sighed. He had forgotten.
This was not going to be an easy conversation. He met the Count's eyes, putting on a brave face. "Dad, I've got something to tell you. You're, um. Not going to like it."
Outside the castle, a family of crows sat roosting on the gate, their heads tucked snugly under their wings.
A terrible roar burst from the windows, shattering the glass and spooking the birds from their roost. Cawing out in anger, they swarmed the castle—where they were soon joined by a large bat, who circled the parapets of the highest castle tower for nearly an hour before landing on the crows' favorite perch and letting out several high-pitched squeals of frustration.
Sensing that the newcomer was even more pissed off than they were, the crows retreated, giving the bat a wide berth.
The bedroom door safely locked, Vlad gently set Robin down in front of him. "I'm sorry about that. Did I hurt you?"
Robin was grinning ear to ear; seemingly unconcerned with the bruises that would surely be coloring the sides of his ribs come morning. "That was awesome."
Vlad sighed. "My dad's going to take some time to cool down." He felt guilty. He should have told the Count earlier. "As it is, he'll probably never want to talk to me again, now that I'm 'officially a disgrace to vampire-kind'." He crossed to the bottle of soya blood, taking it and swishing its contents around absent-mindedly. "At least I still have this." He uncorked it, taking a large sip. "Mmm."
Robin sat in one of the chairs; he looked uneasy. Vlad sat opposite him with the bottle in tow, glancing up when a loud mewling came from the direction of the window. The kitten emerged from what appeared to be its favorite spot, snuggled up behind the curtains.
Vlad watched as the creature spotted a moth and began stalking it across the room. He turned back to Robin, surprised to find him staring at his feet, his face pale. "I won't let my dad hurt you, if that's what you're worried about."
Robin shook his head. "No; that's not it." He shot Vlad a forced smile and fished a small gift from his coat. It was wrapped in dark green paper.
Vlad beamed, taking the bundle eagerly. It had a bow around it, tied with actual silk ribbon. "Chloe's doing, yeah?" he asked, with a knowing look.
The corner of Robin's mouth twitched. "Maybe."
Vlad shook the parcel by his ear, listening. He thought he heard a faint metallic jingle coming from somewhere inside, but hadn't a clue what it could be. Even his vampire hearing was no help. "Does shaking ever work?" he wondered aloud.
"Probably not."
Vlad unwrapped whatever-it-was slowly, careful not to rip the paper.
At first, he wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. There were two interlinked metal circles, a bit thicker than bracelets, with designs curling around the edges. Each had metal hinges and latches, along with what looked to be a keyhole on one side.
Vlad let out a nervous laugh. "Um… Robin, are these handcuffs?"
"Yes." Robin fidgeted. "But, I can explain." Vlad could hear the other boy's heart beating a mile a minute.
Those bats were dancing in Vlad's belly again. "Please do," he tried. He was having some trouble deciding what his face should be doing.
Robin scooted toward him, taking the cuffs from the box and pulling them out tight; as he did, the cuffs made a high-pitched ringing sound, like the toll of a bell. "These cuffs are special. They're argentallium, like the amulet. In other words, strong enough to restrain a vampire." Robin swallowed. Vlad could practically hear his sweat. "It's only for emergencies, of course."
"What kind of emergency?" Vlad asked, quietly. "What do you think I'd do?"
"It's not that," Robin protested. "I know you're in control, but…" he swallowed. "You know as well as I do that that reflection is still inside you. These," he added, nodding at the cuffs, "are insurance—just in case the cravings ever get really bad."
He moved the collar of his shirt aside, revealing a second thin chain around his neck that Vlad hadn't noticed before, dangling from which was a tiny key. "This goes to them. Chloe has one, too. They're the only things that can open the cuffs. They're, um, part of the gift."
Vlad tried not to look as hurt as he felt. "You really think I need these?"
"They're meant to protect you, not me." Robin chewed at his lip, and sighed. "Wow. I suck at this. Look, I'm sure we'll never have to use them." He gazed at Vlad seriously. "I promise, I'm not afraid of you."
"But you're right, Robin—that thing, whatever it is, is still inside me." Vlad stared at his hands. "Deep down, part of me will always be evil. You're not safe around me anymore. Nobody is."
"That's a load of rubbish," Robin scoffed. "You're the kindest person I've ever met."
"I'm not a person."
Robin put a warm hand on Vlad's shoulder, forcing him to look. "You've been hanging around your dad too much. Vampire or not, you are as much of a person as I am. And a better one, at that."
A smile tugged at the corner of Vlad's lips. "…Thanks." He peered at his friend. "How come you're being so nice to me, anyway? Trying to butter me up or something?"
Robin shrugged. "Come off it, I'm always nice to you."
Vlad squinted at him, assessing. "...Right."
"All right; to be honest, I think the handcuffs are a bit overkill. They were Chloe's idea, not mine." Robin bit his lip. "Actually, I had another present for you, but it's a moot point now."
Vlad leaned forward, eager. "Really?" He looked Robin over. "Why?"
Robin glared in the direction of the door. "Ingrid. I don't even know how she found it in the first place."
"Found what?"
Robin frowned, looking uneasy. "Promise you won't get mad again?" Vlad stared at him. "You know what, I'm thinking it can wait until tomorrow. You've had a long day."
"Robin. What did you do?"
Robin sighed, twirling the draw of his zipper around his finger. "You know that bottle of blood Ingrid tried to get you to drink earlier?" Vlad nodded. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Yes…"
"It's actually a funny story. You see, last week, I was sitting around, trying to think what I should get you..." Robin cut himself off at the withering look Vlad shot him. "The blood was my idea, not Ingrid's." He cringed at the furious disbelief in the vampire's eyes.
"What?" Vlad demanded, standing and glaring down at his friend. "You were going to give me human blood?" Robin flinched. "I can't believe you. What made you think I'd want something like that?"
"It wasn't meant for you to drink, okay?" Robin looked at him warily. "I read about it in one of your Dad's books a few months ago, while we were searching for a cure. I got the idea from an ancient ritual of fealty I found, from medieval times. You know, lords and serfs and all that rot."
"Fealty?" Vlad shouted. "Serfs?"
"It's supposed to be this... symbol of trust," Robin waved his hands, looking flustered. "The book said if a breather presents a vampire with a bottle of his own blood, and the vampire accepts, it's supposed to symbolize a promise, you know; that they will always protect each other." Robin looked at him sheepishly. "That's how confident I am that you would never hurt me."
Vlad's eyes grew wide as he put two and two together.
"Wait—are you telling me that was your blood in the bottle? Are you crazy?"
Robin stood, holding up his hands. "Like I said, it was never meant for you to drink. Ingrid got her conniving mitts on it while you were trapped in the mirror room, and; Vlad, I swear I never intended for anyone else to see it…."
Vlad struggled to remain calm. "Robin; my dad's books are full of dark magic. They're not something to mess around with. What if I had drunk from that bottle when Ingrid tried to give it to me? What would have happened to you then?"
"It's not a spell," Robin explained, as Vlad glared at him. "It's a symbolic gesture, that's all."
"Right," Vlad said, testily. "And what would my drinking it have symbolized? Other than how delicious you are?"
Robin swallowed, his face a dull pink. "I guess… it would mean that you had refused the offer."
Vlad resisted the urge to throw his chair, and sat in it instead. He put his head in his hands.
"I suppose it doesn't matter now," Vlad said, finally. "Ingrid probably downed it the second she left."
Robin nodded, eyeing him with trepidation. "It was a dumb idea, wasn't it?" He sighed. "I'm a rotten friend. I'm sorry, Vlad. It's just, the other gift was Chloe's idea, and I knew it might upset you, so I wanted to get you something that really meant something; you know?" He scratched his head. "I'm not... very good with gifts."
"Let's see." Vlad counted on his fingers. "So far, you've given me a vampire make-up kit; a shrunken head; a coffin-shaped alarm clock… a bottle of human blood… oh, and let's not forget the bloody handcuffs." Vlad eyed his friend, giving him a look and crossing his arms.
For some reason, Robin seemed to cheer up at that. "So does that mean I'm forgiven?"
Vlad stared at his friend incredulously, before sighing in defeat. He wagged a finger at him. "If you ever even think about pulling something like that again..." He narrowed his eyes. "I'll use those cuffs on you."
The kitten jumped into Robin's lap. Robin looked down at the creature with curiosity. "I didn't know you had a cat, Vlad."
Vlad felt a migraine coming on. "It was Ingrid's idea of a practical joke. I almost ripped its throat out this morning."
Robin winced. "Well, I suppose the good news is: you didn't."
"Only because Renfield barged in at just the right moment."
Robin stroked the kitten's ears. "If you ask me, I'd say you're looking at this thing all wrong. You've got that blood substitute now, right? At least the thirst won't be as bad going forward."
Robin… actually had a point. Vlad sighed. "Yeah, well. I guess I'm lucky Renfield is so good with potions."
"Are we still on for our sleepover?" Robin asked. The kitten meowed at him— he scratched its chin obligingly. "Oh I'm sorry, Simon, did I miss a spot?"
"Is that what we're calling it?" Vlad crossed to the desk, rescuing a well-worn chessboard from under a pile of clothing. "I suppose you can stay." He offered Robin a small smile. "So long as you don't mind losing."
Robin laughed. "Keep dreaming, blood-sucker."
As they played, they plotted.
They needed to steer clear of the Count, at least until sunrise. The plan was to stay up all night, then sneak downstairs in the morning to grab Vlad's coffin once the Count had gone to sleep.
Staying up was easy for Vlad, since he wasn't the least bit tired. After all, his sleep schedule was a bit in flux, at the moment. Vlad had offered to sit watch so that Robin could get a bit of shut-eye. But Robin had insisted on staying up with him.
As the taller boy put Vlad's king in check for the third time that evening, Vlad once again thanked his lucky stars that he had the substitute blood to curb his cravings. There was no way he would have been comfortable with such prolonged proximity otherwise. As grateful as Vlad was not to be left alone with his thoughts tonight, Robin didn't seem to appreciate the risk he was putting himself under by staying.
Vlad thought about the handcuffs, frowning. Then again, maybe Robin did.
