The chronicles of vladimir tod ninth grade slays pdf

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Ninth Grade Slays - Download as Word Doc .doc), PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online. The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod. NINTH GRADE SLAYS. Freshman year stinks for Vlad Tod. Bullies still harass Best Seller. Ninth Grade Slays #2 by Heather Brewer . Also in The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod · Ninth. Pre Calculus Stewart 5th Edition Solution ManualOracle Rman 11g Backup And. RecoveryModern History Of The WorldTesa Tt20 User ManualN2 Engineering.

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Vladimir Tod THE NINTH GRADE Slay Heather Brewer › D U T TO N C H I L D R E N 'S B O O K S ‹ The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod NINTH GRADE SLAYS. Ninth grade slays. CHRONICLES OF Vladimir Tod THE NINTH GRADE Slay Heather Brewer › D U T TO N C H I L D R E N 'S B O O K S ‹ The C. ninth grade slays the pdf ninth grade slays the chronicles of vladimir tod 2 heather brewer Free download or read online Ninth Grade Slays pdf (ePUB) (The .

Pass it on! Vlad released a nervous sigh and crossed the street. You home? With a grunt, he nudged Amenti off his face and sat up. You have math?

Vlad brought his hand down fast and hard. Vlad swore again but was cut off by Henry. Just stay away from her meat loaf. They raced out the door and down the stairs. By the time they reached the kitchen, they were panting and famished. Henry spotted the plate of crisp bacon on the table and grunted. He plucked a coffee mug from the cupboard and nudged Henry out of the way as he headed for the microwave. Henry was too busy chewing on several slices of bacon at once, and Vlad had his head tilted back as he gulped down some warm O positive.

It slid down his throat easily—it was always better warm—and when his thirst was quenched, he smacked his lips in satisfaction and reached for a cinnamon roll. Blood and frosting: I was really hungry. You should be grateful. Nelly chuckled and shook her head. Talking to her was the least of his problems.

Vlad slowly stretched his hand out and picked up his mug, then took a long drink before returning it to the table. Hung up both times. I think she heard me breathing once though. There it was again, that lump in his throat.

But dude, check this out. Like how? In one hand was a stack of envelopes, in the other was a small brown box. She glanced at their frozen, startled expressions and raised an eyebrow. Your uncle has written to you at least once a week since the day he left Bathory. Vlad sighed in relief. It was a simple mistake—anyone could have made it. In them, Otis had taught him how to read the vampiric language, otherwise known as Elysian code, and had urged him to practice his telepathy daily.

Vlad was grateful for all of these things. Of course, Otis had also recently encouraged Vlad to work on controlling the minds of others. Vlad was intrigued—there was no doubt about that. What if Vlad got caught? The ability to control the thoughts and actions of other people could hardly be blamed on your normal, everyday teenage hormones. But rather than explain his fear of being discovered, Vlad had written his uncle several weeks ago and insisted that he was incapable of controlling the minds of others, hoping that Otis would accept it as a lost cause and move on to some of the stealthier abilities of the undead.

Like animorphing. To answer your most recent questions: However, you must remember that I am no longer privileged to information concerning the legal procedures of the Stokerton council. All of my information is hearsay and, therefore, not completely reliable.

Besides, it is possible that Elysia may decide to exact vengeance for your murder of their president last year. Have you tried simply asking Meredith if she likes you? In my experience, the direct approach works best. Calling a girl and breathing into the phone never got anyone a date. Whatever you decide, remember to be a gentleman. As promised, I am enclosing further instructions on how to best develop your telepathic skills.

When vampires are made, there is a natural order to their skill development, but you.

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We must deal with each of these skills as it presents itself. Follow the enclosed instructions and practice, practice, practice! However, as your former teacher, I must insist that you refrain from using your telepathy as a means to better grades. Trust me. As for the issues you seem to be having with mind control, give me time to compose some helpful tips 13 regarding this skill. Your father was quite adept at doing this. I confess that it surprises me that you may not be. But please know that I am not disappointed in the least.

You are always in my thoughts, Vlad. Please take care of yourself.

Ninth Grade Slays #2

Be mindful of your surroundings, and please continue to study Elysian code. I know the vampire language is challenging to read, but it is important that you memorize the Compendium of Conscentia.

I will write as often as I am able to. Please give my warm regards to Nelly. Yours in Eternity.

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Vlad felt the looming shadow of grief sweep over him again. The death of a loved one is funny like that. But Vlad could deal with that. After all, thanks to Otis, Elysia thought Vlad was human, not half-vampire. Of course, Otis had said that what with Vlad possessing the Lucis, the most dangerous weapon against vampirekind, Elysia was pretty anxious to agree that he was human, to deny the notion that he was even remotly capable of hurting them, giving them little reason to chase after Vlad.

He thought about asking Nelly for her input, but the last thing he needed was a two-hour conversation about when Nelly was a teenager. Vlad sighed. It was hopeless. Vlad folded the letter and shoved it back in the envelope, then withdrew the instructions. She shook her head and reached for her purse.

Can you boys fend for dinner? Joss, remember? Then we can head over to the mall in Stokerton. His tone was stern. Henry nodded slowly and reached for his orange juice. But then, maybe Henry had only taken it so well because Vlad had told him to. The thought made Vlad shiver. Truthfully, it creeped him out a little. But sometimes Henry could be so pushy.

His lips spread into a grin, and he looked at Henry. Two hours, a bag of Doritos, seven Pepsis, and four bags of blood later, Vlad and Henry sat their controllers down and stretched. I love it! His stomach rumbled. Henry furrowed his brow. Speaking of which. As he was walking back into the living room, he let his fangs elongate—his hunger was pulsing beneath them. He bit through the bag and drained it, then let out a burp and wiped the excess from the corners of his mouth.

Henry chuckled. His tone became careful and serious. Not in a million years. Besides, you told me to. There was a long moment of silence before he spoke. Besides, the day I start feeding on people is the day I start beating you at video games. In a way, it was his friend. Like Henry.

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If he could strap Henry to his back and force him to carry his books. Vlad pinned a new button to his backpack and swung it over his shoulder. Weapons, even vampire weapons, had no place at school. Nelly smiled back and handed him a snack pack, which he slurped down with glee.

The blood was warm and gooey and slid down his throat with ease. The breakfast of champions, indeed. Am I getting too tan?

Henry was standing on the sidewalk across the street, waiting. A bronze-skinned, good-looking kid stood next to him, and Vlad could tell by the similar facial features that they were related. Vlad gave a nod to Henry. This is my cousin Joss. Oh good. The strong, silent type. Bathory High School was quite a source of gossip in the small town of Bathory, as it had once been a Catholic church. Nearly a hundred years later, a wealthy businessman had purchased the property and developed it into what had been known as Bathory Preparatory Academy.

Twenty years after that, the school had been turned into a public institution and eventually became what Vlad was squinting up at as he approached with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Henry smiled sheepishly. Vlad sighed and turned to Joss. Vlad beamed. Vlad raised a surprised eyebrow at him. Not my thing. Henry waved, and before Joss was swallowed up by the throng, Joss adjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder and smiled at Vlad.

Bill Jensen and Tom Gaiber. Just his luck. He was about to have his face pounded into hamburger. Where was Henry when he needed him? Bill leaned close. Cat got your tongue? Straightening his shoulders, Vlad shoved back against Bill, but Tom grabbed him by the collar. Vlad wanted to tell Joss to beat it, but just then Tom rolled his eyes and pushed Vlad harder against the wall. He winced and fought to get away, but Tom had him pinned.

Tom and Bill released Vlad and turned to the newcomer. Run, Vlad thought, run for your life, Joss. Vlad wondered what it was about Joss that had made them back off so quickly.

He picked up his backpack and rubbed the lump on the back of his head thoughtfully. Those guys were jerks. Brainless Neanderthal jerks. I could tell by their sloped foreheads and unibrows. What could they do, bump into me until it got really annoying? Her cheeks blushed slightly as she smiled at Vlad. Vlad followed Henry and Joss up the steps. It felt strange to be approaching the school from the front. He kept his head down and tried not to look up at the belfry.

A sign on the door directed freshmen to the gym. Adjusting his backpack into a more comfortable position on his shoulder, Vlad took a deep breath and walked into the school. Along either side of the lobby were thirteen large stone pillars, with arches between each at the top.

Black wrought iron closed off the top set. Vlad looked up at the high ceiling. Henry nudged him and whispered so that no one else would hear. In truth, he never really thought about any religion at all, one way or another. Hurry now. Everyone else, get to class. Stevenson, that means you! Greg smiled. Look for me in fourth period lunch, okay? Like Henry, everybody wanted to be near Greg. He set the standard for what cool was in Bathory High.

Three tables had been set up along one wall. Vlad followed the crowd from one to the next, and when he walked out of the gym, he held a map, a school guidebook, and an assigned locker number, He found his locker just down the hall, and beside it, Henry.

How cool is it that our lockers are right next to each other? He slipped a notebook and a pen out of his bag and dropped the bag into the bottom of his locker. Meredith was standing at an open locker, brushing a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear before hanging her pink backpack carefully inside the locker.

Vlad felt 29 his heart swell up to the size of a football. It had become so big, in fact, that he feared his chest might burst open right then and there. For not kissing the prettiest girl in school when she kindly went with him to the last dance of the year? Vlad ducked behind his locker door, sneaking occasional peeks at her from behind the gray metal.

He took a few deep breaths and closed the door. What did he just say? Open foot, insert mouth, Vlad. You have math? He swallowed hard, but apparently, every drop of spit in his body had evaporated. Meredith parted her pretty pink lips, but before she could prolong their already awkward conversation, the locker next to hers closed, revealing a very blonde, much-older-looking-than-last-year Melissa Hart.

Meredith and Melissa started talking and soon passed by Vlad and Henry without so much as a glance. After chewing his bottom lip for a moment in contemplation, Vlad closed his locker. You wanna hang out at my house later? Bell looked up from her book. Vlad had expected crooked teeth, blue hair, and painted-on eyebrows. Instead, he was greeted with straight teeth, tawny brown hair, and painted-on eyebrows.

Some things never changed. Henry chose the desk next to his. Joss sat in front of Henry. Bell stood, snapping her book closed. Not a minute after, not three minutes after. Henry was sitting absurdly straight in his seat, with his hands folded neatly on the desk, batting his eyelashes in the direction of Mrs.

Joss glanced back at Henry and smirked. He was too busy watching Meredith walk in the door without Mrs. Bell noticing. Meredith scanned the class, offered Vlad a polite nod, and took a seat at the front. Despite feeling enormously happy to see her, Vlad slid down in his seat. It was just a date. Followed by an almost-but-then-not kiss. He was almost sure of it.

Henry was writing something down in his open notebook. Bell—or maybe some crucial info on Meredith. But then he realized that everyone was writing. Bell snarled. Well, she might not have snarled, but with the expression on her face it was hard to tell. She may have been smiling, but Vlad doubted it very much. People like Mrs. They gnash their teeth at innocent passersby. Kareb was pretty cool for a history teacher and that Mrs.

Bell was going to make this the longest school year ever. After third period, they rushed to the lunchroom and looked around for Greg.

They found him sitting with several other popular juniors at the back. And this is Vlad.

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The only one who gets to shove them inside lockers is me. His father, Peter, had made it a regular habit when he was handing Greg and Henry their allowances to slip Vlad some cash as well. And Greg was tons of fun to hang out with.

Before Vlad could say Stop! Vlad looked quickly to Henry, whose jaw had hit the table. Vlad looked back at the boy, whose eyes had grown very wide. It looked like he was going to scream. But instead, he threw up. He pulled his backpack out of his locker and glanced down the hall for any sign of Henry. Unfortunately, leatherclad shoulders obstructed his view. He tapped Tom on the shoulder, and they locked on to Vlad with their menacing eyes. They both wore leather jackets—probably an attempt to appear tough to any of the older bullies who might try anything with the two hotheaded freshmen.

Vlad watched as 35 the strap of his backpack got caught in the locker door, like a snake that had wormed its way through an incredibly tight space and then gotten stuck. Vlad looked from Bill to Tom, who was cracking his knuckles loudly. He could picture his tombstone now: Vlad glanced at Joss. What was this guy, a trained bodyguard? Some kind of heroic stalker? Not that it was a bad thing to know that someone had your back, but still.

He wanted to tell Joss to run, to get out of there while he still could, because Vlad was about to get the beating of his life, and anyone who associated with Vlad might be subject to the same punishment. But instead, he shoved Bill out of the way and opened his locker again. Not after our little talk this morning. How would that work, exactly?

He and Tom were in the same grade as Vlad and Joss. Leave Vlad alone. You got me? Bell rounded the corner. Tom grabbed Bill by the sleeve, and they moved quickly down the hall and out the front doors without another word. Just like this morning. Once more, Vlad had been a loser in distress, despite shoving Bill back.

I owe you one. It felt good to hang out with someone besides Henry. Henry, of course, was his closest friend in the world. But Joss was pretty cool. Besides, Joss was just a regular guy—probably as imperfect as Vlad. Henry was great, but Vlad got tired of always being in his shadow. That, and it was nice to actually win a video game once in a while. Nelly poked her head out of the kitchen. Once Vlad could hear mumbled conversation, he turned to Nelly.

Joss came back to the living room, looking happy and relieved.

Ninth Grade Slays

As they passed through the library, Joss gasped. With a smile, he pointed to the set of shelves nearest his bedroom door. Real or Make-Believe? Are vampires real or just some pretend nightmare that people keep writing about?

Then, after Joss looked over his collection for several minutes, it became clear that he was really expecting Vlad to answer. Given how many years Vlad had been pretending to be human, his reply came as second nature. Vlad opened his bedroom door and gave a quick glance around before inviting Joss in.

His room was cluttered with dirty laundry, but Vlad tossed the clothes behind the door and sat on the bed. I hate it. At least things would be more interesting with Joss around. Waiting even one more minute might make his brain explode. Her tiny feet were wedged into high heels, and her long, muscular legs reached all the way up to the small strip of cotton that passed for a skirt. He took a deep breath and focused on her.

Ever so gently, he pushed with his mind. She frowned. These heels were killing her feet, but whatever. Just as long as she looked nice for Brad. And so help her, if that snob Brenda Carlton took her seat by Brad one more time, it was hair-pulling time. Where was Brad, anyway? Henry something. He goes to Bathory, has an older brother. Word to the wise, honey, get a tan.

Vlad pulled out of her mind with a snort. He glanced over at Henry, who was wearing an expectant look on his face. We better get in line. I need some bloodshed after this. Seeing a gory movie always does. Have you considered that? I swear. Where on earth were her keys? All she needed now was to pick up some tampo— Vlad pulled out of her mind as fast as he could. Henry looked from Vlad to the girl and back.

What was she thinking? Stephanie Brawn, her sister whatever her name was. Several of the guys nodded to him. Vlad shifted his weight from one foot to the other. What did they expect? Almost immediately, he snapped his mouth shut and slid his thumbs in his front pockets, glancing around in an effort to appear cool and casual. Henry was totally treating him to junk food. Vlad almost waved but then realized how stupid that would be. The looks the other popular kids were giving Henry were shining and full of approval—it was so annoying.

But that was Henry. Good-looking, smart, great grades, life of the party, tan, and perfect in every way. Vlad chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully and with a glimpse at the clock, groaned.

They were going to miss it, the best movie of all time. Not a lot. Just a little. Henry had no idea what her name was. Vlad rolled his eyes. The girls jumped back in disgust. Then Vlad smirked. After a moment, his eyes adjusted, and he focused on a pair of long, shapely, miniskirt-wearing legs that were climbing the stairs in front of him. When she took a step, it pulsed slightly. Once he reached the seat beside Henry, his thirst had calmed some. The previews were starting. Vlad reached for the Milk Duds and chuckled at Henry, whose face was hovering just inches from the top of the popcorn bucket.

His eyes were locked on the screen, and he was shoveling popcorn into his mouth until his cheeks resembled that of a squirrel stocking up for winter. On the screen, a young guy with long hair ran through the woods with a panicked scream. There was a moment of silence and then a loud shriek, followed shortly by an enormous amount of blood splashing against the camera. Henry gasped. Two hours later, the boys walked out of the movie theater with gaping mouths.

Henry dropped the empty popcorn tub in the trash. Die Again Tomorrow Forever. I thought SpyGuy got out over a half hour ago. That scene with the hedge clippers? Vlad glanced over his shoulder at the hedge, still picturing the gory movie scene involving hedge clippers, and shuddered.

Hunted down, yes. But gutted? The thought gave Vlad a shiver. It was nearly time to begin his hunt. He had to be sure he was prepared. He followed it with three bottles of serum, the rosary, the small hatchet that had been a gift from his grandfather, and the wooden stake—a beautiful instrument carved from ash and tipped in pure silver.

He wondered, yet again, how many of the undead his 50 great-great-uncle had taken down with this same stake. The slayer always thought about him whenever he opened the case. After all, the vampire killing kit had been invented by his great-great-uncle, Professor Ernst Blomberg, and passed down through the family since the mids.

It was a longstanding tradition, as was keeping your slayer trade secret from everyone in the family other than those who had slain before you and those who would slay after you.

There were over a hundred slayer families, of course, but only one slayer per generation ever joined the Slayer Society. And only a slayer could recognize the traits of the next slayer in his family line. Thinking back to the day he learned he was next in line, the slayer realized that he should have been pleased to be part of an ancient and honored tradition.

Dear, pretty Cecile, with her blonde curls framing her tiny, freckled face, and her large green eyes, which had sparkled like emeralds. It had been an unusually dark, quiet night, and the lack of the usual household noises had woken him. From down the hall, he heard a tiny whimper. Cecile—his darling baby sister, probably having a nightmare.

As any good sibling would, he crept down the hall to check on her, but what he found still haunted him to this day. It was what had driven him to accept his post as a vampire slayer. It was what 51 pushed him on, every moment of every day, to hunt down the beasts and take their lives.

He had turned the doorknob slowly, and the door swung open. Looming over a pale, unconscious Cecile was a vampire—her blood dripping from it fangs.

After that, his memories were a blur. Apart from being a little low on holy water, the slayer was ready. How ridiculous. A true slayer needed only one stake to take a blood drinker down.

One stake and good aim. And nobody wants that. It had gone well. No fuss, no muss. But after he turned to collect his tools he heard a noise. He turned back to the undead monster. The whistling got louder. Something was wrong. The vampire sat up. Lesson learned.

A punctured lung was enough to slow down an older vampire but not enough to kill it. The more the vampire exerted itself to stand, the louder it whistled. It was like doing battle with the little engine that wants to drink your blood. He staked the monster again and had burned the body, just to be safe.

He slipped the stake back into its spot in the walnut case and moved on to the other tools, wiping each off with the corner of the cloth before returning it home. These tools were his partners, his compatriots. There was no telling. Only a slayer could identify another slayer, and he had not yet seen another in his bloodline younger than himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing a yawn.

Outside, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Dearest Vladimir, My apologies. This letter will be brief, as I am waiting to board a plane to Paris as I write this. I will send a longer letter soon, but for now my time is stretched. Please tell Nelly that her last letter was greatly appreciated, and that I am saddened that I have no time to respond at present, but that I will soon.

I promise. Be well. Vlad looked into the cauldron and groaned. Vlad raised an eyebrow. Home by eleven, Vladimir. Instead, he led Henry and Joss out the front door and down the street. After a moment of curious confusion, he recognized the one in the middle and felt a rush of guilt at having scared the kid last year, all for want of impressing Henry and the promise of sticky sweet treats.

Standing on the porch was a group of girls. At the center stood a sparkly red devil, complete with glitter-covered horns. Meredith brushed her hair from her face with one of the tines of her plastic pitchfork. Vlad felt his heart punch his insides, as if it might tear free at any moment. He placed his hand against his chest, just in case.

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Henry smirked. Breathtaking, in fact. Unfortunately, Joss had also noticed how great Meredith looked. He was smiling at Meredith, who in turn smiled at Henry, when Henry grabbed Joss by the sleeve and pulled him into the house. Vlad ducked behind them and went inside as well. Black and orange streamers draped overhead in long, twisted lines. A few kids were dancing, but most were hovering around the punch bowl and laughing.

Unfortunately, popularity is a lot like gravity. It was hard sometimes, trying to discern whether Henry had continued to be his friend over the years despite their differences because Henry really liked him, or because Henry felt a weird bound-by-blood, his-duty-as-a-drudge connection to him.

He stepped off the porch and walked around the side of the house. A gawky, skinny boy with an old 35 mm camera hanging around his neck was sitting on a picnic table bench in the backyard. He moved closer and managed a smile. His voice was soft and hushed. Vlad nodded to it. My mom made me come. I wanted to stay home. Vlad slid the robe over his head and laid his plastic sickle on the table. Maybe keeping an eye on my sickle for me? I might melt in that thing.

Eddie picked up the sickle and 60 strode bravely toward the house. He paused and looked back at Vlad. Something wrong? He ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth. It was somewhat comforting, but not enough to calm the racing of his heart. Are you? Man, Eddie, what did they put in that punch? But I saw one last year, and now.

Vlad kept his cool. They turned purple for a minute. Now he was going to have to worry about touching his own tattoo, too? Why would it start now? You should be careful what kind of things you accuse people of. What are you gonna do to me? His heart had tired of raging against his insides and had settled into his stomach in defeat.

Now leave me alone, okay? Music drifted out from the house, but it was soft enough at this distance for Vlad to ignore it. He shut out his thoughts, not wanting to really think about anything but the moon and stars. A cool breeze brushed his cheeks, and Vlad closed his eyes. What was he going to do about Eddie? All he could hope for was that Eddie would wake up tomorrow and realize that his eyes had played tricks on him on the spookiest night of the year.

After all, it was pretty easy to get freaked out on Halloween, what with all the stories going around this time of year about werewolves, ghosts, and vampires. Vlad swallowed nervously. Look what we have here, Tom. Vlad struggled and tried to kick free.

But inside, the party raged on, and no one seemed to notice that Vlad was in trouble. Serious trouble. Not really. That hurt. Inside his mouth, his fangs sprang from his gums, slicing into his already 64 bleeding tongue. His throat felt dry, parched with an almost uncontrollable thirst.

He kept his mouth closed and glared with his uncovered eye at his attackers. He was pretty sure he could duck by Tom and make it to the sidewalk, but what then? He needed a plan. And he needed it fast. His eye pulsed against his palm. His heart was hammering so hard against the inside of his chest that it seemed one long, continuous beat. He took a step to the left, and Bill and Tom followed suit. Vlad pursed his lips. No one called for an adult or stepped forward to help Vlad. And where were Henry and Joss?

Tom took a step closer, and Vlad resisted moving backward. Bill and Tom proceeded to shove Vlad back and forth like a human Ping-Pong ball. Well, half-human, anyway. Vlad pulled away and made a break for the crowd, but Bill yanked him back by the collar and threw him to the ground. He shoved Tom as hard as he could and bolted for the edge of the crowd.

Tom hit the ground several yards away with a thud and swore loudly. His lips remained silent, but his eyes asked if Vlad was okay. Vlad nodded and brushed the grass from his jeans. Vlad watched after them. A slight smirk touched his lips. Henry tugged on his sleeve, and they tried to slink back into the house unseen, but it was too late. She brought them inside, wrapped some ice in a kitchen towel, and handed it 66 to Vlad.

But I handled it. Vlad glanced at Henry, who looked equally confounded. Mike chuckled. Several people smiled at Vlad—as if suddenly realizing that they were in the presence of greatness. Other than the pain of being beaten up by two of the biggest jerks known to mankind, it was a pretty good moment.

He glanced around the room. Meredith was nowhere to be found. Neither was Joss. Henry shrank into the couch. Vlad wished he could follow suit, but there was no use 67 prolonging the inevitable. The doors had barely closed before Nelly raised her voice, causing Vlad to wince with each syllable. Biting people? There was no escaping once they got you in the car.

I know better than to bite people—no matter how much they might deserve it. Nelly began navigating the car down the street and sighed, the tension in her voice softening some, but not enough to put Vlad at ease.

You could have been hurt. Right there, in front of all those people. He settled back in his seat and stared out the window, wishing they were home already and that this whole evening were over. She turned to Vlad and wiped a tear from her cheek. Not only had he gotten beat up but he had also just been reminded of what a freak he really was by the one person it was supposed to matter to least.

I lost your parents, Vladimir. My secret is safe. Nelly was quiet for a moment, and then sighed in relief. He was almost positive Nelly would do no such thing, but he vowed to behave over the next few weeks, just in case. Besides, he felt pretty bad about worrying her so much.

And it served them right for picking on someone smaller than them. From the other side of the cafeteria, Vlad sighed and tore his gaze away from her. Across the table from him, Henry and Joss were having their now-usual argument.

Not that he wanted to kiss either of them. His eyes found Meredith again. Stephanie is a great kisser, but her sister. It was nauseating. Vlad looked over at Meredith. He dared a glance back and met her eyes.

Then, with a deep breath, lifted his hand off the table and waved. The argument about who was a better kisser carried on throughout the last part of the school day, giving Vlad an excuse not to contribute to the conversation. Vlad shivered at the thought. They were probably right. He still had no idea what to say to Meredith. After a quick walk home, Vlad made his way up the steps and in the front door, and then dropped his backpack near the stairs with a thump.

You home? She wiped her hands on a towel and handed Vlad a thick, parchment envelope. Just the pick-me-up he needed. He took it from her, tore the envelope open, and sat at the table to read.

Your telepathy seems to be developing wonderfully, Vladimir. However, reading the minds of young ladies is certainly no way to get to know women at all. Now, on to the reason that I am writing today. We will travel to visit with an old, very dear friend of mine and your father , by the name of Vikas.

Do you recall my mention of the oldest vampire I know? This is him. I know that you will make me very proud, Vladimir. While in Siberia, I will have further business to attend to. This business concerns you, Vladimir, as well as the incident that occurred last spring in Elysia.

I will explain further when I see you. I look forward to seeing you in December! Yours in Eternity, Otis Vlad read the closing again and then looked up at Nelly. It was the second time in three months that Otis had conveniently called while he was at school. You can go. Vlad squinted up, blocking the glow of the streetlights with his hand. Otis was standing on the edge of a very tall building, looking down at him with wide, panic-stricken eyes. He wiped 75 it away with his sleeve, smearing it across his pale skin.

Apr 17, Pages Young Adult Buy. Nov 06, Minutes Young Adult Buy. Jan 22, Pages Young Adult. Apr 17, Pages Young Adult. Nov 06, Minutes Young Adult. Freshman year stinks for Vlad Tod. Bullies still harass him.

The photographer from the school newspaper is tailing him. And failing his studies could be deadly. A trip to Siberia gives? In this thrilling sequel to Eighth Grade Bites , Vlad must confront the secrets of the past and battle forces that once again threaten his life. A trip to Siberia gives study abroad a whole new meaning as Vlad connects with other vampires and advances his mind-control abilities, but will he return home with the skills to recognize a vampire slayer when he sees one?

Heather Brewer was not your typical teen growing up. She wore black, danced under full moons, and devoured every book in sight. Read An Excerpt. Paperback —. Buy the Audiobook Download: Apple Audible downpour eMusic audiobooks.