by L. J. Smith
There was usually almost no physical resemblance between tiny, pale, redheaded Bonnie and tall, olive-skinned, raven-haired Meredith, but at that moment, the suspicious, exasperated, yet affectionate expressions on their faces were almost identical.
“We promise we’ll be careful,” Meredith said gently, and Bonnie nodded. “But we’re worried about you.”
“I know,” Elena said in a small voice. Silence stretched out between them and finally Meredith turned the light out again.
“We’re here for you,” Bonnie said in the darkness. “When you’re ready.”
“I know,” Elena whispered again.
As she lay in the dark and listened to her friends’ breathing gradually even out into the sounds of sleep, Elena turned and twisted from one side to the other, unable to get comfortable.
In Elena’s own time, Meredith was miserable. She tried to cope, and she had Alaric helping her, and she almost never complained. But that didn’t change the fact that Meredith had become a vampire, the one thing she never wanted to be.
Elena had to keep her out of this. Meredith deserved a chance at a normal life.
Knowing she had made the right decision, Elena finally dozed off into an uneasy sleep. When she woke, sunlight was shining brightly in the windows, and Meredith was standing at the foot of Elena’s bed.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” Meredith said lightly, jingling her car keys. “We’ve got to get to school.”
“Okay, okay,” Elena grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. “I hardly slept, I couldn’t—” She broke off in dismay, her words drying up.
Around her neck, Meredith was wearing the same deep red scarf she had worn last night. But something had changed while Elena slept. Below the scarf, she could see the edge of a deep purple-blue bruise. Elena knew exactly what it was, she had seen enough of them: a vampire bite.
Damon Influenced her, once we were all asleep, she thought, feeling dazed and nauseous. Nowhere is safe.
“We have to stop him,” Elena insisted. “He’s hurting the people I care about.” She could hear her own voice rising hysterically, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm down. The seemingly endless school day was finally over, but there were plenty of students still milling around. Enough people at their school already thought Stefan was an arsonist, no need to feed the rumors by making it sound like he was fighting with the queen of the school.
The former queen of the school, Elena amended mentally, noting another pair of eyes sliding over her suspiciously as two girls from her chemistry class walked by, heading between the trailers toward the parking lot. Everyone had noticed how different Elena was this year, and being seen arguing intensely in corners with Stefan was only pounding the nails in the coffin of her popularity.
Elena couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Damon is coming after my friends,” she said to Stefan, gripping his sleeve even more tightly. “It’s all because of me. We have to protect them.”
“I know,” Stefan said. His leaf-green gaze was steady and reassuring. “Come back to the boardinghouse with me. We’ll figure something out.”
On the drive to the boardinghouse, Elena noticed how vividly red and yellow the leaves of the trees at the side of the road were getting. The long winding drive up to Mrs. Flowers’ boardinghouse was lined with graceful birch trees whose golden leaves glowed like candles. Elena shivered. Halloween was coming soon. They were running out of time.
The old redbrick boardinghouse was dark and silent. Stefan unlocked one of the oak double doors and led Elena up the flight of stairs ahead of them. On the second-story landing, Elena turned automatically to the right, putting a hand on the knob of the door to the bedroom there.
Stefan went still as he stared at Elena. “How did you know which way to go?” he asked.
Oops. When Stefan had brought her here after Homecoming, they had gone in to his room via the balcony. Elena had never been up these stairs before. Not in this version of her life, anyway. “Just guessing,” she said tentatively, and stood back to let him pass.
Stefan’s lips thinned suspiciously, but he didn’t say anything else. Elena meekly followed him through the bedroom and stood by as he opened what looked like a closet, revealing the flight of stairs that led up to his room.
Elena and Stefan stepped out of the stairway and into his dimly lit room. Stefan stopped dead, horror on his face. His room was destroyed. The heavy trunks that had stood between the windows were overturned, their lids smashed. Books cascaded from a broken bookcase, their covers dirty and torn as if they’d been stamped on. The blankets that had lain on Stefan’s narrow bed were shredded. A cold breeze blew through the room from a smashed window at the far end.
“My God,” Elena whispered. Damon must have done this.
The heavy mahogany dresser by the window was the only piece of furniture still standing, seemingly undamaged. Centered on its top stood a simple black iron box with a curving lid.
Stefan brushed past Elena and flung open the box. And then he froze, staring down into it.
“Stefan?” asked Elena softly after a moment. He didn’t move or answer, and she wasn’t sure if he had heard her. Stepping up beside him, she looked first at his face. It was even paler than usual, set in grim lines as if carved out of stone. His eyes, dark and stormy, stared unblinkingly down into the iron coffer, and Elena followed his gaze.
The box was empty.
Elena instantly understood. The iron box was where Stefan had kept his most precious things, the objects that recorded all his long, lonely history. His father’s watch, carried by Stefan since the fifteenth century. The ivory dagger he had been given for his thirteenth birthday. Golden coins from his homeland. An agate-and-silver cup his mother, dead at Stefan’s birth, had once treasured. Katherine’s lapis lazuli ring. In a different time, a silk ribbon from Elena’s hair.
All his treasures, gone. Elena looked back up at Stefan, but the words of sympathy she was about to say died on her lips. Stefan’s face was no longer blank and cold. Instead, it was twisted in silent fury, his lips drawn back in a snarl.
He didn’t look human, not anymore.
“I’ll kill him,” Stefan growled, his canines lengthening. “Damon destroys everything. For the fun of it.”
Elena turned on her heel and raced down the stairs. “Mrs. Flowers!” she called as she hit the second floor. “Mrs. Flowers, where are you?” She stopped and listened, frustrated. Despite the many times she’d been in this house, she had never quite gotten a mental map of Mrs. Flowers’ quarters, and the old witch woman wasn’t especially likely to come when she was called.
“What is it, girl?” The voice was cold and clear, and Elena whipped around, her heart pounding. Stefan’s landlady stood at the far end of the hall, a small, stooped figure, all in black.
“Mrs. Flowers,” Elena said desperately, going toward her. “Someone was in Stefan’s room. Did you see anyone?”
Mrs. Flowers was wise, and her magic was incredibly strong. But now the frail old lady looked at her warily, with no sign of recognition, and Elena remembered with dismay that, in this time, they had never met before.
“The message is for Stefan,” Mrs. Flowers said clearly, in a slightly singsong voice, as if she was reciting from memory. Elena’s heart sank further. Damon must have compelled her to let him in and deliver his message.
“I’m here,” Stefan said from behind Elena. “Give me the message.” He looked furious, still, but intensely weary. It was as if all the years, all the centuries, were catching up with him all at once.
“Damon says that you’ve taken something of his, and so he will take everything you have,” Mrs. Flowers said, her face impassive. “Your precious things are his now.”
“I never belonged to him,” Elena said indignantly. “And I don’t belong to Stefan. I’m not a thing.”
But Mrs. Flowers, her message delivered, was already drifting back into her private part of the house, her long black shawl fl
uttering behind her.
Stefan’s jaw was clenched tight, his fists balled and his green eyes dark. Elena didn’t think she had ever seen him so angry, not in all the years she had known and loved him.
If, as Elena thought, Stefan and Damon carried each other’s humanity … if it was the love between the brothers that was the key to Elena being able to change Damon and save them all …
If all these things were true, Elena couldn’t help feeling like she might have already lost.
The next day, Elena hurried out of class and was the first one at her lunch table. The fire department had just declared that this wing of the school safe, and this was the first day they could eat in the cafeteria instead of outside. A smell of smoke still lingered here, though, and there were streaky gray stains of smoke on the walls and ceiling.
The morning had passed in a haze as she obediently went through the motions of being a high school student without hearing a word that was said. She thought that she might have taken a test in one of her classes, but she wasn’t sure which class or what the test had asked. She couldn’t think of anything that mattered less at this point in her life.
Maybe, she thought, staring down at her own nervously tapping fingers, her friends would be able to help after all. Elena was still determined not to tell them the truth about what Stefan and Damon were. They had all, Matt and Meredith especially, given up so much in Elena’s real world. But, even without knowing all the facts, perhaps her friends could be her eyes and ears in Fell’s Church. They could help her find Damon.
If she could just speak to Damon face-to-face, maybe Elena could talk some sense into him. She couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t come around. Deep down, Damon loved his brother. Elena was sure of it.
Caroline paused by the table. “All alone, Elena?” she asked, poisonously sweet.
Elena glanced up, and a sarcastic reply died on her lips. Around Caroline’s pretty bronzed throat was wrapped a gauzy green scarf. Below it peeked out the edge of a telltale purpling bruise.
“What happened to your neck, Caroline?” she asked, her mouth dry.
Caroline sneered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Everything’s wonderful.” Turning on her heel, she walked away from Elena’s table, her head held high.
Elena pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her pounding heart. First Meredith, then Caroline. Damon wanted Elena to know that he knew who the people around her were, that he could get to anyone that mattered to her.
“You okay, Elena?” Matt had stopped at her table. He grinned at her, solid and reassuring in his letterman’s jacket.
Elena flinched. Beneath the collar of Matt’s jacket, she could see a bite, angry purple with two darker marks in the center.
“What’s that?” she asked, dazedly.
Matt raised his hand, brushing his fingers lightly across his neck just where the top of his shirt ended. For a moment, his face clouded, faintly puzzled, and then it cleared. “Everything’s wonderful,” he said slowly, then turned his back on Elena and walked away.
The same thing Caroline had said: Everything’s wonderful. Damon had compelled them to say exactly those words and walk away. A hot flush of anger spread through Elena.
“It’s only October, and I’m already so sick of school I could scream,” Bonnie said, clattering her tray down on the table. “When am I really going to use Spanish anyway?”
“When you go to Mexico? Or talk to someone who speaks Spanish?” Meredith suggested dryly. “It might actually be one of the more useful subjects you take.”
Bonnie clicked her tongue irritably as they sat down, but didn’t argue. “Hey, Elena.”
Elena greeted them distractedly. Meredith had another scarf looped around her neck, this one white with threads of sparkling silver woven through it. It covered the bite mark Elena had seen earlier, but she knew it was there.
Bonnie … Bonnie was fine. She was wearing a V-necked sweater, her slender white throat fully visible and completely unmarked. Elena looked carefully at Bonnie’s wrists to see if Damon had fed from her veins there instead, but there was nothing to see but a braided bracelet and a thin gold watch.
“Elena, are you hearing a thing I say?” Meredith asked sharply. As Elena looked up, Meredith’s expression of irritation softened to concern. “What’s wrong?”
Elena straightened up and gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing. I’m just distracted. What are we talking about?”
“We need to go to the warehouse at the lumberyard and finish planning out the Haunted House this afternoon,” Meredith said patiently. “I know we still have the plans from last year, but this is our senior year. We should make it really special.”
“Doing it there like we’ve always done will make things much easier. It would have been a huge hassle if we had to do it in the gym instead like the school board was talking about,” Bonnie said. “It’s, like, five hundred feet shorter. Yay for the fire, I guess.”
The first time around—when Elena had been chairman of the decorating committee, instead of Meredith—the school board had made them set up the Haunted House in the gym. They’d been worried by the attack on the homeless man under Wickery Bridge and thought everyone would be safer at school instead of at the lumberyard.
It was good that would be changing this time, she thought. If it were in a different place, were things less likely to happen the same way? Maybe.
Meredith pulled out her planning notebook, and she and Bonnie were quickly absorbed in the pictures and sketches from the previous year’s Haunted House. Elena’s eyes wandered back to Bonnie’s unmarked throat.
It just didn’t make sense, she thought. If Damon was being thorough enough to go after everyone important to Elena—and Caroline was important to her, Elena admitted to herself, even if they didn’t like each other—then why hadn’t he fed from Bonnie?
Maybe he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
“I think we should have druids,” Bonnie was saying.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea—” Meredith said, and Elena interrupted.
“Bonnie, have you seen Damon lately?” she asked abruptly. “The guy who brought me to school that day?” Why had he not bitten Bonnie?
“The one who saw her kissing Stefan,” Meredith said unhelpfully.
Bonnie flushed, right up to her hairline, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I meant to tell you,” she blurted. “Only it was really weird, and I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was at the grocery store the other night picking up milk for my mom, and he came up and started talking to me.” Bonnie looked down, pushing her hair shyly behind her ear. “He was looking into my eyes and saying, just, really weird stuff. Like that I wanted to be close to him. I didn’t want to tell you because it felt like he was hitting on me.” She glanced up at Elena, looking guilty. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”
“I believe you,” Elena said soothingly, trying to think. Why would Damon have let Bonnie go? It certainly sounded like he had started to compel her; why would he have changed his mind?
Bonnie and Damon had always had a special bond. He called her his redbird, and was protective, treating her almost like a little sister. But, no, that wasn’t true here. Damon didn’t know Bonnie well enough to care about her, not yet.
Elena looked at Bonnie’s white throat again, at her slender wrists, checking once more for bites and bruises she knew she wasn’t going to find.
Bonnie’s wrists … Elena leaned forward, frowning. The narrow woven bracelet around Bonnie’s left wrist was made of thin strips of leather and bits of colored thread and small silver beads. And strands of some kind of plant. Was it vervain?
“Where’d you get that bracelet?” Elena asked her.
Bonnie stretched her left arm out to look at it. “I know, it’s kind of ugly, isn’t it? My grandmother gave it to me this summer, though, and she told me never to take it off. It’s supposed to protect m
e against all kinds of things.”
“Because she and your cousin and you are all psychic.” Meredith said teasingly.
Bonnie shrugged. “It’s all about the druids. Which is why we should have them in the Haunted House. For one thing, they did human sacrifice, and we could have, like, a standing stone and a big knife … Elena? Where are you going?”
Elena wasn’t listening anymore. Without even thinking about it, she stood up from the table and walked out first the cafeteria doors and then the doors of the school. No one stopped her as she strode between the temporary trailer classrooms and through the parking lot.
She felt hot and angry, fuming as she stomped down the sidewalk away from the school. Damon had attacked Meredith. Matt. Even Caroline. And he’d tried to feed on Bonnie as well.
Bonnie was safe. For now. As long as she didn’t take that bracelet off and Damon didn’t decide that just grabbing her and feeding off her without first compelling her was just as good.
Elena had kissed Stefan once. Once. And her friends had had nothing to do with it.
She was tired of playing games.
When she reached the graveyard, Elena hesitated for a moment, staring through the fence. The day was cloudy, and the cemetery looked gray and gloomy. Beyond the ruined church, she could see the branches of the uprooted tree, pointing skyward.
As she passed through the gate, a cold wind began to blow, whistling in Elena’s ears and whipping her hair against her face. She turned toward the well-kept, modern part of the cemetery with its neat rows of granite and marble tombstones. For this confrontation, Elena instinctively felt that it would be comforting to have her parents nearby.
The cemetery was empty and still. As Elena crossed it, the wind came with her, piles of dry leaves rising up into the air as she passed. She stopped by her parents’ grave and rested a hand on the cool gray granite of their stone, gathering her strength. “Help me, Mom and Dad,” she murmured. Anger was still simmering inside her, black and hot.
Elena spun around, searching between the headstones. She knew he was there, somewhere, watching her. It didn’t matter that the bond between them had been severed, she could feel him.