"Morning, Sis!" Robin waved at Chloe from the breakfast table as she descended the stairs.
Chloe paused on the third step, staring openly as Robin shoveled the last few bites of cereal into his gob, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the door. "Come on, then; don't want to be late, do we?" he mumbled cheerily through his mouthful.
Chloe eyed her sibling for signs of brain damage, fishing an apple from her pocket and taking a large bite. Robin was never up this early.
"Well?"
Chloe swallowed, taking a moment to slip her phone into her bag, and made her way downstairs. But before she could reach the bottom step, Robin was already gone, the front door squealing on its hinges in his wake.
She had to jog to catch up.
"Ready for school?" Robin offered pleasantly, as she approached.
"Yes," Chloe said, still looking him over skeptically. And as they neared the end of their street, she found she could no longer contain her disbelief. She stopped in front of him, hands on her hips. "All right. Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"
"Hmm?" Robin met her gaze evenly, but seemed distracted. He squinted up at the sky with the strangest expression—a smile, Chloe realized with a jolt—before shrugging out of his leather jacket, folding it neatly over one arm. "Nice weather today, isn't it? Respectable cloud cover."
Not knowing what else to do to make it stop, Chloe reached out to prod him sharply in the shoulder.
"Oi—watch it." Robin scowled. "You know I bruise easily."
She sighed. "I suppose it really is you, then."
"The one and only," he grinned.
"Since when is the 'one and only' Robin Branaugh a morning person?" Chloe accused, baffled by his sudden mood swing.
Robin shrugged. "I just have a good feeling about today. That's all." He paused, patting his jeans with a look of intense concentration. "Shit. Where is it…?"
"Why? What's happening today?" Robin shook his head, a small frown appearing on his face as he searched.
"Oh, right—it's in my jacket…."
"What is?" Chloe asked impatiently.
Just then, her phone chirped. She glanced at the screen with agitation. Who would be texting her this early?
It was Jonno. He wanted to meet up later, to discuss their project. Chloe sighed, sending off a quick reply.
Lucky their presentation was tomorrow. She could hardly wait to be done with it.
She felt a prickle of guilt at the thought. Jonno had turned out to be a dedicated and considerate partner; a fact which Chloe appreciated immensely, given how distracted she had been as of late. She'd been so busy, between preparing for the ritual and juggling all her other classes, and Jonno had been so helpful and understanding.
Still, it was exhausting to have to constantly look over her shoulder, in case Jonno tried to… well, in case he tried anything. Her eyes narrowed at the thought. Despite the goody-two-shoes act he'd been putting on, she knew full well what he was capable of.
Just the other day, Jonno had asked after Robin's health, of all things, completely out of the blue. It was the strangest thing. He'd asked if the Counts were keeping Robin busy up at the castle, making an offhand joke about 'one too many sleepovers with Vlad'. Chloe had done her best to change the subject, which, judging by the glint in his eyes, Jonno had definitely noticed. He'd clearly been fishing for information about the Draculas; but for what purpose, Chloe could hardly guess. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
"Oh, nothing—just looking for these," Robin was saying. "Thought I'd lost them." Chloe did her best to remember what they'd been talking about, glancing over at her brother with pursed lips. He was pointing to his head—or, no—to his favorite set of skull-studded earbuds, from which she could hear the faint hum of heavy metal music.
"Mm," she replied vaguely, her thoughts still on Van Helsing.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, the sound of heavy metal wreaking havoc on Robin's eardrums the only disturbance to the peace.
At the top of the hill, Robin stopped short. Chloe frowned as the sound of laboured breathing filled the air, and glanced at him sharply. "Are you all right?"
Robin was doubled over, hands braced against his knees. "Yeah, just; hold on a second," he huffed. He was covered in sweat. "Whew."
"If a titchy little hill like that can get the best of you, then you really need to get in better shape," Chloe admonished, not able to keep the concern from her voice.
To her surprise, Robin chuckled. "Yeah, that's what Vlad keeps telling me." He straightened, adjusting his bag and wiping sweat from his hairline. "All right." He continued on toward the school, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Chloe hesitated, then followed suit.
As perplexing as Robin's behaviour was, she supposed it was also, on the whole, an improvement. After all, he did seem… happier these days, if a bit odd. Well, odder.
She frowned, noticing for the first time that morning the dark circles under Robin's eyes. Vlad must have kept him up late again last night. Probably not for the first time, either.
Perhaps Jonno had a point after all.
They slowed as they neared Chloe's locker. She fiddled with the combination, shooting sideways glances at her brother while she worked.
Robin was waiting off to the side, leaning against a nearby locker and staring at the far wall, evidently lost in thought.
The halls were still fairly empty—classes wouldn't start for at least another ten minutes. Still, she felt the need to check for potential eavesdroppers. "So…" she said casually. "Have you and Vlad made any progress so far?"
Robin turned to look at her at last, and nodded, a sly smile stretching at the corner of his mouth. "You could definitely say that."
Chloe lips quirked, actively suppressing laughter as she stuffed her bag into the locker. "I was talking about the other thing," she said, lowering her voice. "You know, the ritual?"
Robin's smile fell away at once. He shrugged, although a tinge of colour in his cheeks belied his attempts at nonchalance. "Yeah, so was I."
She nodded sagely, not wanting to spoil the rare moment of peace between them. "Are we meeting Vlad after school today?"
"Yes," he said quickly. Robin's guilt was easy to read. "Look, it's not that I don't want you there, but I was kind of hoping that Vlad and I could—"
Chloe held up a hand, with what she hoped was an understanding smile.
"It's fine—I get it. Jonno and I have to meet up tonight anyway, to discuss our presentation." She grabbed her books, bumping the locker closed with her hip. "Just remember, we need to stay focused on the task at hand. The longer we wait to start…."
Robin sighed, his cheeks finally starting to return to their normal pasty white. "Fine. I'll make sure to also talk to Vlad about the ritual. Happy?"
"I'll be happy when you and Vlad are safe." Chloe said softly. "I'm ready if you are."
"You go ahead. I'll catch you up at lunch." Robin was feeling especially thirsty after their walk from earlier. He crossed to the drinking fountains across the hall, sighing when he spotted the 'Out of Order' sign taped across the larger one.
The good fountain was always broken.
Robin hunched over the shorter machine awkwardly, slurping at the water in quick gulps.
The chain around his neck prickled and grew warm. He wasn't sure how he knew, but somehow he did, with absolute certainty: he was being watched. He opened his eyes, just as Jonno Van Helsing entered at the other end of the hall.
Robin choked, coughing and spurting water all over his shirt. He scowled, wiping at his lips. Great.
He was definitely not in the mood to talk to Crazy, Jr. Not today.
He stood, intent on making as swift an exit as possible. But as he turned, his face began to tingle unpleasantly. He clutched at his forehead, and stayed very still, in hope that the feeling would pass.
The world around him spun for several seconds, green and purple spots crowding his vision. Robin swayed in place, and had to brace himself against the wall with one hand.
His neck prickled again, and he stole a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. Van Helsing was staring at him.
Their eyes met. Van Helsing was the first to look away.
Robin rubbed his face, and continued on down the hall—although more slowly this time. Thankfuly, his own locker was on the opposite end of the school from Van Helsing.
He paused in front of his locker, making sure the coast was clear before checking his jacket pocket one last time.
By now the spots had faded, and his thoughts turned again to tonight's meeting with Vlad.
Robin smiled when his fingertips met cool metal. It was a good plan, he thought to himself smugly as he zipped his jacket; a plan that would surely prove to be as rewarding as it was cunning. In other words: tonight was going to be awesome.
Robin could hardly wait.
Vlad stared up at the roof of his coffin, Ingrid's words from the previous night tumbling around in his head. This was becoming a bit of a habit of his.
He'd retired to his coffin several hours ago, after a long heart-to-heart with his sister—or as close to one as he could get, considering the choice of conversation partner. But still, sleep eluded him.
Vlad had told Ingrid as much about the amulet's powers as he dared to without revealing its name, or its significance to slayer lore. He'd simply explained that the stone's magic prevented Robin from turning into a vampire, and left it at that.
At first, she had been adamant that the best way to cure the addiction would be for Vlad to turn Robin, after draining him of all his blood. It was what most vampires in his situation did, and it was at least guaranteed to work. Plus, Robin would be thrilled to join the ranks of the undead, and didn't Vlad want him to be happy?
But Vlad had eventually won the 'which Dracula is the most stubborn' contest, and Ingrid had admitted there was one more option.
Of course, even after she'd told him, she still tried to talk him out of it. Don't forget what happened to Uncle Ivan, she'd said. If you choose this course of action and fail, you'll be right back to square one.
I'll take my chances, Vlad had told her. And that had been the end of it.
Vlad rubbed at his eyes, and tried to focus on what he was going to say to Robin when he saw him.
Thanks to Ingrid, he now knew that his ailment, although magical in origin, was in at least one way just like any other addiction: with enough time spent off the stuff, he should be able to recover, at least enough to get his life back in order.
Eventually, he'd be able to stomach animal blood, and maybe even get back on soya substitute; but until then, it was best to go completely dry. Not one drop of Robin's blood, or of any human for that matter.
Of course, even if he did manage it, there was always the risk of a relapse….
Vlad sighed. He really should try and get some rest. Nothing he could do about it now. Besides, being tired just made it harder to resist the urge to feed.
He knew that Robin was going to hate the idea, but what alternative did they have? Robin had to stop wearing the amulet, which meant that Vlad had to stop drinking Robin's blood; which in turn meant that Robin needed to stay away from him, at least until he could better control himself. It was as simple as that.
He rolled onto his side, curling in on himself as much as the confined space of the coffin would allow. His stomach growled.
Simple, perhaps—but far from easy.
Only two and a half more hours to go.
Robin grinned to himself as he wandered down the hall toward his next class of the day.
"Hey, Branaugh; wait up!"
He cringed as he recognized the voice.
Robin resisted the urge to walk faster, instead tucking his books under one arm and waiting impatiently for Van Helsing to catch up. "What is it? I'm late, so make it quick."
Van Helsing gave him an appraising look. "All right?" He asked. "You're looking even more terrible than usual."
The other boy was peering at him in what seemed to be genuine concern. A cutting retort sprung immediately to Robin's lips. Instead, he said, "I'm fine, Van—Jonno. Thanks. Now if you don't mind, I'm really going to be late for Trigonometry."
"I get it. You have a lot on your mind. Just, before you go…." Van Helsing stepped closer, momentarily blocking his escape. Robin's neck prickled. It tended to do that a lot around Van Helsing. "I just wanted to tell you; my offer from earlier still stands. If you ever want out, my father and I can protect you."
"I really don't know what you mean," he said, his voice straining with the effort to be polite.
"I'm talking about the Draculas," Van Helsing amended.
"Keep your voice down," Robin hissed.
Van Helsing held up his hands. "Sorry… the Counts." He looked at Robin seriously. "Listen. I know you think Vlad is your friend, but if you ever start to feel in over your head, just… don't forget what we talked about."
Robin's patience was hanging by a thread. "Like I said, I'm fine. So thanks for the offer, but—no thanks."
Van Helsing looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. He seemed disappointed. "Suit yourself, Robin. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
Robin raised an eyebrow at that, but found he no longer had the energy to argue. He headed down the hall, eager to get this whole day over with.
But before he could make it more than five paces, darkness fell.
He awoke to a small crowd, which had gathered around him. "Give the man some room," Van Helsing was saying. Strong hands gripped his wrists, tugging him to his feet. Robin swayed, blinking stupidly. "Let's get you to the nurse."
"I'm fine," Robin insisted, though before he knew it he was being forced to sit down in a small office, and offered a glass of juice. "Thanks…."
A woman who looked to be in her early thirties shone a painfully bright light into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. "Look at my finger…. Good… now this side…."
Robin knew he had seen her for a previous visit, but couldn't remember her name.
That done, the nurse fitted a cuff around Robin's upper arm, and the sound of puffing filled the room.
"His blood pressure is a bit low," she muttered. "Thank you for bringing him."
"No problem," Van Helsing, who was sitting off to the side, replied at once.
Robin's stomach felt like it was full of cotton. Remembering his drink, he took a sip. The juice was delicious.
He looked around the office, finally beginning to feel collected enough to be embarrassed.
"Sorry," Robin said to the nurse, who was scribbling something in her notes. "Don't know what came over me."
"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" The nurse asked kindly.
"About… five? Or four, maybe?" Robin glanced down at his lap. "I guess it's been a bit rough, lately. I'll go to bed early tonight."
The nurse pursed her lips. "That's a start. And did you eat breakfast?"
He nodded. The nurse noticed him staring at Van Helsing, and turned to the room's other occupant.
"Thank you, Jonno," she said to him. "You can go back to class, now, if you like."
"But, Miss Warren—"
"Mr. Branaugh is going to be just fine. Off you go."
Robin eyed him as he left. "Could I have some water, too?" he asked, and Miss Warren brought him a paper cup. "Thanks."
"Any improvement?" she asked him seriously, once Van Helsing had left.
"Yes," Robin said, realizing that he meant it.
Miss Warren smiled at him. "You can head back to class when you're feeling better. But you're welcome to stay as long as you need."
Robin nodded gratefully, and the nurse busied herself with paperwork.
A few minutes later he stood, feeling more stable than he had all morning. "Thank you, Miss Warren," he said at last, after he had knocked back the last of his water.
"I want you to take it easy for the rest of the day, Robin. I don't want to see you here again."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Vlad stared out at the starry horizon, which seemed lopsided somehow.
Where am I?
All Vlad knew for sure was that the sky was weird; and that he was lying on his side on some sort of hard, wooden surface. He blinked, and sat up, his eyes widening as he took in more of his surroundings.
"I'm… on a boat?" He'd only been on a boat once before, last summer when he'd gone fishing with the Branaughs. This one was about the same size as that had been, large enough to seat about four people.
He startled as he caught a flash of something white by his feet. A small cat was wriggling its way out from under the narrow compartment stowed beneath his seat.
Simon hopped onto the bench across from him, its eyes large orbs that shone almost as brightly as the moon.
"You again?" Vlad asked in amazement.
"Small dream world, huh?" Simon joked, his toes opening and closing rhythmically against the polished wood. "It's nice under there. Dark, cramped—just like a coffin. You'd like it."
"I… think I'll pass," Vlad said slowly. "This is a bit of an odd place to be meeting, don't you think? In the middle of the ocean?" He shook his head. "I thought cats hated water."
"We do," Simon yawned. "Although this is clearly a river."
"A river?" Vlad asked, looking around them. "Are you sure?"
Simon sighed. "There's a shore on either side."
Vlad squinted, looking off in the distance. Sure enough, there was a long, black smudge against the horizon, which he supposed looked enough like land. "That still doesn't explain why you're here." He paused. "Or, why I am, for that matter."
"It doesn't?"
Vlad's brow furrowed. Was that supposed to be a hint?
He gazed again at the far shore; then, finding nothing of interest, looked down at the river itself.
Barely any light penetrated the water's dark depths, although he could see that it was flowing away from the side of the boat.
"I know the dream world is a big fan of symbolism, but I think I'm going to need a bit of help with this one." A small wave lapped against the side of the vessel, rocking them gently. Vlad shivered.
"You still haven't asked the most obvious question," Simon said, whiskers twitching.
"You mean, besides 'Who in their right mind goes fishing in the middle of the night'?" Vlad joked weakly. He frowned. "Hang on. I thought vampires couldn't cross running water. I know I couldn't, the first time I entered the dream world."
Simon licked his paw.
Vlad shivered again. "None of this makes any sense."
The cat sounded bored. "I will say this: nothing in the dream world is what it appears to be."
"Right. Dream symbolism, or whatever." Vlad sighed, rubbing at his arms as he wracked his brains. "Let's see. The moonlight… represents my relationship with my father. The stars are my destiny, the boat is the curse of vampirism, and…" He hid a smirk. "That fat cloud over there is Magda."
"Your cunning knows no bounds," the cat drawled. Vlad pouted at it. "You are a credit to the name Dracula. History will remember your glorious…."
"Okay, I get it," Vlad interrupted irritably, rubbing at his eyes. Wasn't sleeping supposed to be restful? He sighed. "Fine. I'll solve your stupid riddle."
A vampire and a cat… on a boat… in the middle of an impossible river.
Vlad scratched his head. "So, what you're saying is, we're not really in a river. It just looks like a river. The water isn't water, and the river is… well, it's not really a river." Vlad's stomach sank. "No."
Simon simply looked at him.
Ever so slowly, Vlad leaned over the side of the boat and dipped his fingertips into the river. He brought his hand close to his face, squinting in the moonlight.
It was difficult to discern any colour in the darkness, but Vlad could tell the fluid's identity from the way it clung to his skin. And then there was the smell: he was amazed he hadn't noticed it before.
It was blood. They were floating in an enormous river of blood.
"If this place really is just a product of my mind, I'm starting to get a bit worried," Vlad whispered, staring out at the enormous river with a strange mix of horror and fascination.
Robin hummed to himself as he shut his locker, ambling on autopilot toward his usual meet-up spot with Chloe by the stairs.
He was halfway there before he remembered that she wouldn't be there: she was catching a ride home with Van Helsing after all, to help prepare for their presentation the next morning.
Robin smiled. That would give him plenty of time to go over the details of his plan. He wanted tonight to be perfect.
"I'm surprised you're taking this so well," Simon said. "I would have thought you'd be more… stressed out." He yawned again, showing his small, pointed teeth. "Could it be that you're beginning to actually like being in the presence of blood?"
Vlad squirmed, uncomfortable. "Of course not. This is just a dream. Why should I be worried about something that isn't real?"
He hadn't thought it was possible for cats to grin—but apparently it was. "An excellent point, Vlad. Well, congratulations on solving the puzzle. You did it." Simon curled up on the bench, his chin tucking under his tail.
"Is that really it?" Vlad squinted at the feline. "Why am I still here, then?"
"Dunno," Simon purred. "It's nice, though, isn't it? Might as well enjoy it."
Vlad disagreed. Out loud, he said, "So what am I supposed to do now?"
The cat opened one eye. "It's your dream."
"Right." Vlad stared out at the vast expanse of blood. 'Nice' was the wrong word entirely, but it was strangely peaceful—which only added to his discomfort.
Was he supposed to row to shore? He searched the boat for something to steer it with, finally spotting an oar on the far side.
He stood carefully, so as not to rock the boat, inching closer to the oar. He grasped the smooth wooden handle in both hands, taking a moment to admire the craftmanship, before plopping back onto the bench with a 'thud'. He raised the oar, then parted the waters with the flat blade of the paddle, the motion sending rings of water radiating outward across the surface of the river.
Vlad rowed steadily for several minutes; but much to his annoyance, apart from spinning slowly in place, the boat didn't seem to be going anywhere. He slapped the surface of the water with the oar, nearly dropping it as a muffled shriek pierced the air.
"What was that?" he demanded of his companion with wide eyes. But Simon had fallen asleep.
Vlad bent over the edge of the boat, holding his breath as he peered into the water. His heart clenched. Whatever had made that noise sounded like it was coming from below, but Vlad couldn't see anything through the black liquid.
"The only way to know for sure is to take a drink," Simon piped up from behind him.
"Oh, now you're awake?" Vlad glared at him, straightening. "And you can't be serious."
"But I am." Simon's tail flicked. "You know… vampires can tell a lot about the living from their blood. What sort of people they were. Whether they were happy, depressed; cruel." He hesitated. "Whether they were kind."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Vlad wondered aloud. He recoiled. "Are there people down there?"
The cat was silent.
"How do you know all of this, anyway?" Vlad asked, not able to keep the accusation from his voice. "And why are you the only one who coaches me in my dreams, these days?" He swallowed, thinking back to his first experience in the dream world. "It used to be Robin."
"Robin cannot visit you in the dream world while he is wearing the amulet," Simon said, matter-of-factly. "It protects him from all of your psychic abilities."
Vlad looked at the cat sharply. "All of them? Even… even hypnosis?"
"Especially hypnosis."
Vlad's throat tightened. "But I thought…."
"You thought you were in love with him?" Simon asked. "Perhaps you are. I guess you won't know for sure until he removes the necklace. Ah well." He pointed his tail at the river. "Go ahead, take a drink. Discover what waits for you below."
Vlad ignored him, still stuck on the first part. "He can't take off the necklace, not yet; it isn't safe. I'm going to wean myself off of his blood, but in the mean time he needs the protection. Just in case." The cat's tail flicked, and Vlad scowled. "I'm not going anywhere near that stuff. Drop it already."
"Suit yourself," the cat said, sounding put out. "But you should know that by the time it is safe for Robin to take off the necklace, it will probably be too late."
"Too late?" Vlad asked.
"Dark magic has a way of changing breathers' hearts. But who knows? You may come to like the new Robin even better than the old one."
Vlad hugged himself, suddenly cold. "So Ingrid was right—the amulet really is dark." He paused. "Hang on…. if Robin can't visit me in my dreams, then why was he able to do it before, when I was hiding in my coffin under the castle? I'm absolutely positive he was wearing the necklace then."
Simon walked to the edge of the bench, crouching over the side of the boat and batting at a passing wave with his paw. "You caught me." He said magnanimously. "That wasn't Robin, before. It was me."
"You?" Vlad asked, shaking his head and gazing out at the river with a furrowed brow. "How can that be? You were in the dream, too." He stiffened. Slowly, he turned to look at his companion.
But Simon had disappeared. In his place sat a teenage boy, who looked just like Vlad. Well, almost.
The boy smiled at him, wiggling his fingers. "What took you so long?"
Vlad's eyes went wide, and he clutched at his head as the events from the mirror room came rushing back. How could he have possibly forgotten?
"You." Vlad stood, wobbling as the boat rocked from side to side under his shifting weight. "I don't know what you're trying to do here, but whatever it is, it won't work."
His reflection looked amused. "I'm flattered, but you clearly don't need any help from me. Just look at how well you've done so far."
Vlad ignored it. The thing stood, stretching out its arms in a manner that was oddly reminiscent of Simon, then darted forward, leaping into the air.
It dove gracefully into the water, sending waves of blood crashing up and onto the deck. Vlad yelped, wiping at his hair and face. "That's disgusting!" he shouted after it.
But his reflection had already disappeared into the abyss.
Vlad awoke with a yell, cursing as he hit his head on the coffin lid for the umpteenth time. "I hate this thing," he mumbled, snapping his fingers to open the lid.
He remembered everything. The mirror room. The dream. His reflection's terrible grin.
Vlad looked down at himself, feeling ill. He knew one thing for sure: that… thing was still inside of him, somewhere, just waiting for him to screw up. It had tried to make him to drink from the river….
Vlad wasn't a complete idiot. Even he could grasp the symbolism behind that.
He grit his teeth. He'd beaten his reflection once, and he could very well do it again. And this time, he'd be ready.
His brooding was interrupted by a loud buzzing sound emanating from a small mountain of dirty clothes. That would be his phone. He rummaged through the pile at vamp speed. He found it in yesterday's trousers, and glanced at the screen anxiously.
It was Robin. Of course it was. Vlad placed the phone on the coffin, and stepped away as he hit the 'answer' button.
One of the downsides of supersensitive hearing: mechanical speakers of all kinds grated terribly on his ears. He could only stand it from a distance.
"Vlad?" Robin sounded a bit breathless.
"Robin—Are you all right?"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you forget about our date?"
Vlad stared at the phone. Shit. Robin had texted him after Vlad left last night, asking him to meet him at dusk by the rugby field. He'd been so wrapped up in his conversation with Ingrid that he'd completely forgotten about it.
"I did. I'm sorry, Robin, I fell asleep." Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for something to say. He didn't want to have to break the news to Robin over the phone, but… what choice did he have? He couldn't risk the temptation of seeing him in person.
"No problem. So, will I see you at 5:30, then?" Robin checked.
No. I can't see you at all, actually, not for a long while. "Um… sure. I'll be right there."
"Excellent! See you soon."
Robin hung up, and Vlad proceeded to hit himself. Repeatedly.
"Coward," he growled. His thumb was already scrolling through his recent calls to call him back, when he stopped.
Maybe it was better this way. Robin deserved a face-to-face explanation. Surely he could manage just one last visit; just long enough to explain why he needed to keep his distance, and then he'd leave again.
Vlad gulped. He should call Chloe—ask her to come with him. It would be easier to break the news to Robin if she were around. And that way, if anything went wrong….
He thumbed through his contacts.
Chloe picked up halfway through the first ring. "Hello? Vlad? Are you okay?"
Vlad bent down to pet Simon, who had woken from his nap and was demanding attention. He stroked the kitten's head, trying hard not to think of the other Simon—the one from his dreams. "Yes, I'm fine. I… was wondering if you could come with me tonight to meet Robin. I have something to tell you both."
"Uh… maybe later I can, but right now I'm with Jonno," Chloe said cautiously, sounding tense. "We're working on our presentation. Is it an emergency?"
Vlad hesitated. It wasn't really an emergency, per se. "More like… business." He kept his answer vague, in case Jonno could somehow hear him. "Call me back when you're finished?"
"Of course," Chloe said. "I'll call you as soon as I'm done."
Vlad crossed to his coffin and stood before it awkwardly, fidgeting. It was almost 5:30. Should he go and see Robin anyway? Perhaps he could stall him until Chloe got there.
Making up his mind, he grabbed his cloak.
Jonno waved at Chloe from the caravan, then focused his concentration on pulling out of the Branaugh's driveway without hitting anything.
He'd gotten his license several weeks ago, but it was still nerve-wracking, driving his dad's huge caravan all by himself. His father was away on Guild business—which was lucky, seeing as he was under strict instructions not to drive it under any circumstances.
Not that Chloe needed to know that.
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel as he made his way down the winding road that led to his dad's lot behind the school, thinking about Chloe's behaviour.
She had been distracted all afternoon—and then when Count had called her, she'd rushed through the rest of their preparations, practically tossing him out on his ear not five minutes later after making some lame excuse about wanting to help her mother with the wash.
Jonno knew what that meant. Something had happened to Count, something that worried her badly enough to forget about school. And anything that could do that was worth investigating, especially when the Draculas were involved.
Robin hadn't been at the Branaugh house, which meant he was probably up at the castle. And wherever weirdo number two went, weirdo number one wasn't far behind.
He stared absentmindedly at the blur of perfectly manicured lawns and concrete as he drove. The sun had set a few minutes ago, but the sky still glowed a dull orange, bathing everything in a warm, pale light. He braked lightly as he neared the school's rear lot, thinking hard.
Jonno knew he should probably wait until tomorrow to investigate, since his dad would be back in town. He was still just a slayer-in-training, and wouldn't be earning his badge for a few years yet. And, after all: the first rule of slaying was to always have backup.
Or was it to always protect family? Jonno shook his head. It was one of the rules, anyway.
Still, there were other considerations. As practically everyone in town knew, Eric… was a bit useless in a crisis. Jonno loved his dad to death, but he couldn't deny the fact that nearly every mission they'd ever had ended up botched because of him.
And, just as importantly, if the Draculas and Branaughs had teamed together to create some sort of weapon, time was of the essence. If he waited until tomorrow, it might already be too late to stop them.
His hands clenched on the wheel. He had to do something; find out what they were planning.
He pulled into the school lot and turned off the engine. He had just descended the steps of the caravan, and was about to start setting up the awning when he spotted movement through the trees ahead. He squinted. Someone was standing out in the middle of the school rugby field. And not just any someone.
Branaugh. Just the man he wanted to see. He looked like he was waiting for someone. For Count, no doubt.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Thinking quickly, Jonno grabbed his weapons bag from the back of the caravan, sprayed himself with scent-blocking perfume, and made his way to the fence that surrounded the rugby field, hoping he hadn't been spotted already.
A blur, and a moment later, Vlad Count was standing next to Branaugh, an anxious expression on his face. Jonno gulped. He must have used his super speed, because he'd been looking right at Branaugh the whole time and still hadn't seen the vampire arrive.
It was as they had suspected: Count had his full powers.
They were talking, but Jonno was too far away to hear. He had to get closer. He looked around, spotting a damaged section of the fence. He crawled to it and slipped under as quietly as he could. Branaugh and Count were deep in conversation, and didn't seem to notice his approach. He crouched behind the bleachers, straining to hear what they were saying.
"You seem sulkier than usual," Branaugh said softly. He was looking Count over in concern. "Is everything all right?"
Count stepped closer, taking Branaugh's hands. "No… it's not." He muttered something that Jonno couldn't hear, then reached out a hand to touch the other boy's face.
Branaugh pulled away from the contact. "I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night."
"I'm sorry; I just worry about you."
Branaugh smiled at that. "I know. I worry about you, too." He leant forward, taking hold of Count's shirt and pulling the vampire into a kiss.
Jonno watched in shock from his hiding place, his mind reeling. He'd heard plenty of rumors at school that Count and Branaugh were... involved, but had never actually believed it. He shook his head, refocusing on the conversation.
"I have something to tell you," Count began, but Branaugh cut him off.
"I have something to tell you, too, Vlad," he said mysteriously, his tone playful. "But... me first. Don't move until I tell you to."
Count seemed to stiffen all over. "Seriously?"
Branaugh stepped closer, holding Count's wrists in one hand and fishing around in his jacket pocket for a few moments, before lifting up something small that glinted in the light.
Count's expression was truly comical; he seemed unable to move from shock. Jonno would have laughed at the sight, were he not in hiding.
Branaugh wrapped what looked like metal rings around Count's wrists, and they closed with a 'click'. He stepped away, admiring his handiwork. Count looked like he couldn't decide whether to be angry or amused, and instead had settled on annoyed. Branaugh was circling around the vampire, whistling as he stared at Count's rear. "Nice view."
"Let me go, Robin. I mean it. We need to talk."
"Not until I thank you properly for last night," Branaugh said, his voice low as he wrapped his arms around Count's chest from behind. "You're not the only one with a kinky side, you know."
"Robin...!"
"Mm?"
Jonno's cheeks felt hot. It appeared he'd misjudged the situation completely, and managed to walk in on a private moment that he had no business witnessing. But how to escape without being seen?
Count's voice had just a touch of desperation.
"You don't understand," he said. "As much as I appreciate the… ungh… gesture," he gasped as Branaugh's hand snaked under his shirt and stroked at his belly before slipping below his waistband. "I can't control myself anymore," he continued, panting, his eyes closing. "You're just going to get hurt... please..." He shuddered as Branaugh's hand began to move.
"And what if I want you to hurt me?" Branaugh said, sounding perfectly serious.
Count looked… wasted. That was the only way to describe it. Jonno couldn't help but feel respect for the amount of restraint he was showing. He hadn't moved an inch, although he was clearly desperate to reciprocate.
Jonno shifted, extremely uncomfortable—but found he couldn't look away.
"No, I don't... Robin, listen to what I'm saying. I can't stop myself from wanting your blood, and if we don't stop now, I'll… I mean, you'll change, you'll…." he seemed to be having difficulty organizing his thoughts. That probably had something to do with the hand in his pants.
"So don't stop now," Branaugh said quietly. He tilted his head, exposing his neck to Count's hungry gaze.
Jonno's eyes widened. They were really going to do that… here? Now?
His pulse quickened, and he glanced nervously at his bag of weapons.
"I want to stop," Count insisted, although his tone said otherwise. His eyes raked greedily over Branaugh's pale skin, and he licked his lips.
"No you don't," Branaugh denied, and frankly, Jonno had to agree with that assessment.
Jonno stood, stake in one hand and garlic gun in the other, ready to do what was necessary to stop them. He came out from under the bleachers at a run. The other two were apparently too absorbed in each other to notice him.
Jonno was barely ten metres away when it happened.
Branaugh ran a hand down his exposed neck, stopping at his shoulder. "Bite me," he ordered softly, and Count bent forward at once, latching onto the side of Branaugh's neck with the desperation of a dying man.
Jonno froze in place with stake raised, shocked. Count had really done it. He'd bitten Branaugh. And that meant….
Robin was going to get his wish after all.
The sound of fervent sucking broke Jonno's reverie. He charged forward, closing the distance between them; but before he could reach them, Branaugh fell to the ground, his eyes closed.
"Robin!" Count yelled. He was staring down at the other boy with horror.
He looked up, and Jonno shivered as their eyes met.
Jonno didn't wait for the vampire to react—he raised the pistol in his right hand, hitting the vampire square in the chest with garlic gas. But after barely a second, the gun malfunctioned, sputtering to a stop. Jonno shook it, then threw it to the ground, disgusted. Worthless piece of rubbish.
Even so, it seemed to be enough to do the job. Count shrieked, falling to his knees and clutching at his chest. Then he, too, collapsed to the ground and was motionless.
Jonno stared down at the both of them, his heart beating like crazy. Count wasn't a pile of ash, so he must still be alive.
He looked at the stake in his hand, his stomach reeling. He couldn't stake them; not like this. As much as he disliked them, they had been his classmates. He couldn't just stab them in the back, while they were out cold like this.
Still, he couldn't leave them here, either.
He crossed to Count first, whose wrists were still cuffed. Jonno examined the metal more closely. Pure argentallium, from the looks of it.
Good idea, he thought, impressed despite the gravity of the situation. He rifled through his bag, retrieving a net spun from argentallium wire, and draped it over Count's head. That should at least keep him under long enough to get the both of them to HQ.
Branaugh should be out for a while yet, although who knew for how much longer. The transformation took hours for some, minutes for others. He retrieved more of the netting from his bag and wrapped it around Branaugh's wrists, just to be safe. That way, neither of them could use their powers when they woke.
Now to get the van.
The ringing of a cell-phone startled Jonno; he glance at Count's pocket, where a soft light glowed through the fabric of his jeans. He ignored it, gripping Count by the ankle and beginning the arduous task of dragging him in the direction of the caravan.
Moments after Count's phone stopped ringing, a second alarm came from behind him. Branaugh's phone.
Chloe, Jonno thought with a sinking feeling. Damn. He needed to move fast, before she came looking for them.
She was never going to forgive him for this, he thought, and guilt twisted his insides.
You can't think like that, he lectured himself. Count and Branaugh were vampires now—blood-sucking monsters, an unacceptable threat to public safety. Count's behaviour tonight proved that he couldn't be trusted around people anymore.
When he had stuffed both of their bodies in the van—a bit of a struggle, although the adrenaline helped—he put his key in the ignition, and made sure he wasn't followed as he pulled out, making his way to the HQ's secret location.
