Page 121 of The Last Vampire
No one says anything right away.
In my peripheral vision, I see Salma’s head turn toward me, and I meet her gaze for the first time today. And even though our teacher was specifically not asking us, she volunteers an answer anyway.
“I think they had a great friendship until Dracula came along.”
AFTER DINNER,I don’t head back to our room. I go to William’s. It’s the only place I won’t be interrupted.
Earlier, I snatched one of the dozen pins decorating Salma’s bag, and now I poke the sharp edge into the pad of my finger, producing barely a drop of blood. Then I rub my fingertip across the blank page.
Again, it swallows the red. But nothing else happens.
Maybe it needs more.
I stick the pin in a little deeper, until it stings—“Ow!” Now I release a small dribble of blood, enough to draw aW.
This time, the blood doesn’t vanish. Instead, theWmoves.
I gasp as the lines of the letter shift to form anX.
Like I entered the wrong password, and my access is denied. Or maybe…
It’s the wrongblood.
It’s none of my business.
It’s none of my business.
It’s none of my business.
I repeat the same mantra to myself all night, trying to summon enough peace to sleep. But all I can think is that maybe this book is important. Maybe there’s a message to William from whoever sent him here.
And maybe a small part of me wants to show the vampire that this mere human did what he couldn’t. I found the key to unlocking the green book’s secrets.
When I can’t take it anymore, I sneak out of bed. Once I’m dressed, dawn is only an hour away, so I grab my coat and hurry to the administrative wing. Then I use one of the phones to call a cab.
The sky is blue-gray when I sneak out of the manor and walk down the long driveway toward the iron gates.
If William won’t come to the book, the book will have to come to him.
CHAPTER 35william
He is flying.
William is glad Nate purchased him a seat by the window, because he cannot peel his gaze away from the clouds. He is soaring through the air, like a bird. If his heart could beat, it would be pounding.
When the plane lands and passengers disembark at the airport, William must wait in a long line with the others, until an agent asks to see his passport. “What is your business in France?” he asks in accented English.
“I do not have a business.”
“Why are you visiting us?”
“To see the Notre-Dame Cathedral.”
“How long are you staying?”
William realizes he has no idea, and he opens the email Nate sent with his itinerary. There is a return ticket for… “January fifteenth.”
“A month and a half,” says the agent. “A long time to spend in Notre-Dame. Where will you be staying?”
