Eighth Grade Bites Read Free Page B

sink in. With concentrated effort, he moved forward and tried to erase the possibilities from his mind. “Does anybody know anything?”
    Henry had lost the pillowcase, but his front pockets were bulging with candy. “Not really. They say he just up and disappeared.”
    â€œWeird.”
    â€œYeah.” The serious expression Henry wore was replaced by his familiar grin. “Hey, did you see Stephanie’s sister in there? She was looking pretty nice.”
    Vlad shook his head and turned the corner toward home. “Dude. Seriously. She’s twelve.”

3
    THE HIDDEN ATTIC
    V LAD ROLLED OUT OF BED and rubbed his eyes. Careful not to step on Henry, who was still snoring in his sleeping bag on the floor, he crossed the room and shut the door behind him, then stepped into the library. From the nearest recessed bookcase, he grabbed a copy of The Theory and Practice of Telepathy and went downstairs, where the smell of chilled blood and fried bacon greeted him. Mmm . . . the breakfast of champions. Aunt Nelly was at the stove and turned just as he took a seat at the long plank table. “Morning, sunshine.”
    Vlad blinked at her. “Morning, sulfuric acid.”
    â€œPardon me?”
    â€œWell, isn’t it just kinda wrong to call a vampire ‘sunshine’?”
    â€œOh. Sorry.” She set a juice glass full of cool, deep red liquid in front of him, which he downed while she tapped the book. “Something interesting going on?”
    Vlad ran the back of his hand across his lips, staining the skin burgundy. “Kinda. I read someone’s thoughts last night. Somebody I didn’t even know.”
    Nelly took a seat across from him and sipped her coffee. “I thought you could only read Henry’s thoughts.”
    â€œI thought so, too.” He scratched his chin and flipped open the book to a page covered with yellow sticky notes.
    Nelly looked pensive. “Vladimir . . . you didn’t . . .”
    Vlad scanned the page, only half listening to Nelly. When he realized what she was implying, his jaw dropped. “No! I wouldn’t taste somebody’s blood on purpose.”
    â€œExcept for Henry’s, you mean.” Nelly sipped her coffee, eyeing him over her glasses.
    Vlad rolled his eyes and slid the book closer to him. “Aunt Nelly, I was eight years old. Can we let that one go already?”
    â€œWell, you said before that you were only able to read Henry’s thoughts after you’d ingested some of his blood. So if you didn’t taste this person’s blood, how do you suppose you could read his mind?” Her tone was even, but careful.
    Vlad leaned over the book and perused his various notes, theories, and scribbled thoughts on telepathy. “No idea. But then, it’s not like I have an Encyclopedia Vampirica to consult. So far, all I have are theories.”
    Nelly nudged a plate of sticky buns toward him and proceeded to cover her own plate with crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast. Vlad grabbed one of the sweet pastries and dropped it onto his plate while Nelly refilled his glass with the blood he would need to begin his day. Nelly had never been squeamish when it came to Vlad’s diet. She was a registered nurse and went to great lengths to sneak blood from the hospital for him. Nelly chewed a bit of bacon, watching him with great interest. “So what happened at midnight?”
    â€œNo clue. We left early.” Vlad shrugged. Then, thinking about his overnight guest, he asked, “Is it cool if Henry stays another night? His parents aren’t going to be back until Monday afternoon.”
    â€œSo long as you boys can manage to find your way to school in the morning.”
    As if awakened by the mere mention of his name, Henry came bounding down the stairs and burst into the kitchen with a bad case of bed head and a happy, well-rested grin. Aunt Nelly slid him an empty plate, finished her bacon, and