by L. J. Smith
“We’re going to try,” Stefan said. He looked at Meredith and Matt, who nodded. “Right. From this moment on, you will never be alone. There will always be one or more of us outside watching you.”
Vickie just shook her bent head. Meredith gave her arm a squeeze and stood as Stefan tilted his head toward the window.
When she and Matt joined him there, Stefan spoke to all of them in a low voice. “I don’t want to leave her unguarded, but I can’t stay myself right now. There’s something I have to do, and I need one of the girls with me. On the other hand, I don’t want to leave either Bonnie or Meredith alone here.” He turned to Matt. “Matt, will you …”
“I’ll stay,” said Damon.
Everyone looked at him, startled.
“Well, it’s the logical solution, isn’t it?” Damon seemed amused. “After all, what do you expect one of them to do against him anyway?”
“They can call for me. I can monitor their thoughts that far,” Stefan said, not giving one inch.
“Well,” Damon said whimsically, “I can call for you too, little brother, if I get into trouble. I’m getting bored with this investigation of yours anyway. I might as well stay here as anywhere.”
“Vickie needs to be protected, not abused,” Stefan said.
Damon’s smile was charming. “Her?” He nodded toward the girl who sat on the bed, rocking over the vervain. From disheveled hair to bare feet, Vickie was not a pretty picture. “Take my word for it, brother, I can do better than that.” For just an instant Bonnie thought those dark eyes flicked sideways toward her. “You’re always saying how you’d like to trust me, anyway,” Damon added. “Here’s your chance to prove it.”
Stefan looked as if he wanted to trust, as if he were tempted. He also looked suspicious. Damon said nothing, merely smiled in that taunting, enigmatic way. Practically asking to be mistrusted, Bonnie thought.
The two brothers stood looking at each other while the silence and the tension stretched out between them. Just then Bonnie could see the family resemblance in their faces, one serious and intense, the other bland and faintly mocking, but both inhumanly beautiful.
Stefan let his breath out slowly. “All right,” he said quietly at last. Bonnie and Matt and Meredith were all staring at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He spoke to Damon as if they were the only two people there. “You stay here, outside the house where you won’t be seen. I’ll come back and take over when I’m finished with what I’m doing.”
Meredith’s eyebrows were in her hair, but she made no comment. Neither did Matt. Bonnie tried to quell her own feelings of unease. Stefan must know what he’s doing, she told herself. Anyway, he’d better.
“Don’t take too long,” Damon said dismissively.
And that was how they left it, with Damon blending in with the darkness in the shadow of the black walnut trees in Vickie’s backyard and Vickie herself in her room, rocking endlessly.
In the car, Meredith said, “Where next?”
“I need to test a theory,” said Stefan briefly.
“That the killer is a vampire?” Matt said from the back, where he sat with Bonnie.
Stefan glanced at him sharply. “Yes.”
“That’s why you told Vickie not to invite anyone in,” Meredith added, not to be outdone in the reasoning department. Vampires, Bonnie remembered, couldn’t enter a place where humans lived and slept unless they were invited. “And that’s why you asked if the man was wearing a blue stone.”
“An amulet against daylight,” Stefan said, spreading his right hand. On the third finger there was a silver ring set with lapis lazuli. “Without one of these, direct exposure to the sun kills us. If the murderer is a vampire he keeps a stone like this somewhere on him.” As if by instinct, Stefan reached up to briefly touch something under his T-shirt. After a moment Bonnie realized what it must be.
Elena’s ring. Stefan had given it to her in the first place, and after she died he’d taken it to wear on a chain around his neck. So that part of her would be with him always, he’d said.
When Bonnie looked at Matt beside her, she saw his eyes were closed.
“So how can we tell if he’s a vampire?” Meredith asked.
“There’s only one way I can think of, and it isn’t very pleasant. But it’s got to be done.”
Bonnie’s heart sank. If Stefan thought it wasn’t very pleasant, she was sure she was going to find it even less so. “What is it?” she said unenthusiastically.
“I need to get a look at Sue’s body.”
There was dead silence. Even Meredith, normally so unflappable, looked appalled. Matt turned away, leaning his forehead against the window glass.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Bonnie said.
“I wish I were.”
“But—for God’s sake, Stefan. We can’t. They won’t let us. I mean, what are we going to say? ‘Excuse me while I examine this corpse for holes’?”
“Bonnie, stop it,” Meredith said.
“I can’t help it,” Bonnie snapped back shakily. “It’s an awful idea. And besides, the police already checked her body. There wasn’t a mark on it except the cuts she got in the fall.”
“The police don’t know what to look for,” Stefan said. His voice was steely. Hearing it brought something home to Bonnie, something she tended to forget. Stefan was one of them. One of the hunters. He’d seen dead people before. He might even have killed some.
He drinks blood, she thought, and shuddered.
“Well?” said Stefan. “Are you still with me?”
Bonnie tried to make herself small in the backseat. Meredith’s hands were tight on the steering wheel. It was Matt who spoke, turning back from the window.
“We don’t have a choice, do we?” he said tiredly.
“There’s a viewing of the body from seven to ten at the funeral home,” Meredith added, her voice low.
“We’ll have to wait until after the viewing, then. After they close the funeral home, when we can be alone with her,” said Stefan.
“This is the most gruesome thing I’ve ever had to do,” Bonnie whispered wretchedly. The funeral chapel was dark and cold. Stefan had sprung the locks on the outside door with a thin piece of flexible metal.
The viewing room was thickly carpeted, its walls covered with somber oak panels. It would have been a depressing place even with the lights on. In the dark it seemed close and suffocating and crowded with grotesque shapes. It looked as if someone might be crouching behind each of the many standing flower arrangements.
“I don’t want to be here,” Bonnie moaned.
“Let’s just get it over with, okay?” Matt said through his teeth.
When he snapped the flashlight on, Bonnie looked anywhere but where it was pointing. She didn’t want to see the coffin, she didn’t. She stared at the flowers, at a heart made of pink roses. Outside, thunder grumbled like a sleeping animal.
“Let me get this open—here,” Stefan was saying. In spite of her resolve not to, Bonnie looked.
The casket was white, lined with pale pink satin. Sue’s blond hair shone against it like the hair of a sleeping princess in a fairy tale. But Sue didn’t look as if she were sleeping. She was too pale, too still. Like a waxwork.
Bonnie crept closer, her eyes fixed on Sue’s face.
That’s why it’s so cold in here, she told herself staunchly. To keep the wax from melting. It helped a little.
Stefan reached down to touch Sue’s high-necked pink blouse. He undid the top button.
“For God’s sake,” Bonnie whispered, outraged.
“What do you think we’re here for?” Stefan hissed back. But his fingers paused on the second button.
Bonnie watched a minute and then made her decision. “Get out of the way,” she said, and when Stefan didn’t move immediately, she gave him a shove. Meredith drew up close to her and they formed a phalanx between Sue and the boys. Their eyes met with understanding. If they had to actually remove the blouse, the guys we
re going out.
Bonnie undid the small buttons while Meredith held the light. Sue’s skin felt as waxy as it looked, cool against her fingertips. Awkwardly, she folded the blouse back to reveal a lacy white slip. Then she made herself push Sue’s shining gold hair off the pale neck. The hair was stiff with spray.
“No holes,” she said, looking at Sue’s throat. She was proud that her voice was almost steady.
“No,” said Stefan oddly. “But there’s something else. Look at this.” Gently, he reached around Bonnie to point out a cut, pale and bloodless as the skin around it, but visible as a faint line running from collarbone to breast. Over the heart. Stefan’s long finger traced the air above it and Bonnie stiffened, ready to smack the hand away if he touched.
“What is it?” asked Meredith, puzzled.
“A mystery,” Stefan said. His voice was still odd. “If I saw a mark like that on a vampire, it would mean the vampire was giving blood to a human. That’s how it’s done. Human teeth can’t pierce our skin, so we cut ourselves if we want to share blood. But Sue wasn’t a vampire.”
“She certainly wasn’t!” said Bonnie. She tried to fight off the image her mind wanted to show her, of Elena bending to a cut like that on Stefan’s chest and sucking, drinking….
She shuddered and realized her eyes were shut. “Is there anything else you need to see?” she said, opening them.
“No. That’s all.”
Bonnie did up the buttons. She rearranged Sue’s hair. Then, while Meredith and Stefan eased the lid of the casket back down, she walked quickly out of the viewing room and to the outside door. She stood there, arms wrapped around herself.
A hand touched her elbow lightly. It was Matt.
“You’re tougher than you look,” he said.
“Yes, well …” She tried to shrug. And then suddenly she was crying, crying hard. Matt put his arms around her.
“I know,” he said. Just that. Not “Don’t cry” or “Take it easy” or “Everything’s going to be all right.” Just “I know.” His voice was as desolate as she felt.
“They’ve got hair spray in her hair,” she sobbed. “Sue never used hair spray. It’s awful.” Somehow, just then, this seemed the worst thing of all.
He simply held her.
After a while Bonnie got her breath. She found she was holding on to Matt almost painfully tightly and loosened her arms. “I got your shirt all wet,” she said apologetically, sniffling.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Something in his voice made her step back and look at him. He looked the way he had in the high school parking lot. So lost, so … hopeless.
“Matt, what is it?” she whispered. “Please.”
“I told you already,” he said. He was looking away into some immeasurable distance. “Sue’s lying in there dead, and she shouldn’t be. You said it yourself, Bonnie. What kind of world is it that lets a thing like that happen? That lets a girl like Sue get murdered for kicks, or kids in Afghanistan starve, or baby seals get skinned alive? If that’s what the world is like, what does anything matter? It’s all over anyway.” He paused and seemed to come back to himself. “Do you understand what I’m talking about?”
“I’m not so sure.” Bonnie didn’t even think she wanted to. It was too scary. But she was overwhelmed by an urge to comfort him, to wipe that lost look from his eyes. “Matt, I—”
“We’re finished,” Stefan said from behind them.
As Matt looked toward the voice the lost look seemed to intensify. “Sometimes I think we’re all finished,” Matt said, moving away from Bonnie, but he didn’t explain what he meant by that. “Let’s go.”
7
Stefan approached the corner house reluctantly, almost afraid of what he might find. He half expected that Damon would have abandoned his post by now. He’d probably been an idiot to rely on Damon in the first place.
But when he reached the backyard, there was a shimmer of motion among the black walnut trees. His eyes, sharper than a human’s because they were adapted for hunting, made out the darker shadow leaning against a trunk.
“You took your time getting back.”
“I had to see the others home safe. And I had to eat.”
“Animal blood,” Damon said contemptuously, eyes fixed on a tiny round stain on Stefan’s T-shirt. “Rabbit, from the smell of it. That seems appropriate somehow, doesn’t it?”
“Damon—I’ve given Bonnie and Meredith vervain too.”
“A wise precaution,” Damon said distinctly, and showed his teeth.
A familiar surge of irritation welled up in Stefan. Why did Damon always have to be so difficult? Talking with him was like walking between land mines.
“I’ll be going now,” Damon continued, swinging his jacket over one shoulder. “I’ve got business of my own to take care of.” He tossed a devastating grin over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”
“Damon.” Damon half turned, not looking but listening. “The last thing we need is some girl in this town screaming ‘Vampire!’” Stefan said. “Or showing the signs, either. These people have been through it before; they’re not ignorant.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” It was said ironically, but it was the closest thing to a promise Stefan had ever gotten from his brother in his life.
“And, Damon?”
“Now what?”
“Thank you.”
It was too much. Damon whipped around, his eyes cold and uninviting, a stranger’s eyes.
“Don’t expect anything of me, little brother,” he said dangerously. “Because you’ll be wrong every time. And don’t think you can manipulate me, either. Those three humans may follow you, but I won’t. I’m here for reasons of my own.”
He was gone before Stefan could gather words for a reply. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Damon never listened to anything he said. Damon never even called him by name. It was always the scornful “little brother.”
And now Damon was off to prove how unreliable he was, Stefan thought. Wonderful. He’d do something particularly vicious just to show Stefan he was capable of it.
Wearily, Stefan found a tree to lean against and slid down it to look at the night sky. He tried to think about the problem at hand, about what he’d learned tonight. The description Vickie had given of the killer. Tall, blond hair and blue eyes, he thought—that seemed to remind him of someone. Not someone he’d met, but someone he’d heard about …
It was no use. He couldn’t keep his mind on the puzzle. He was tired and lonely and in desperate need of comfort. And the stark truth was that there was no comfort to be had.
Elena, he thought, you lied to me.
It was the one thing she’d insisted on, the one thing she’d always promised. “Whatever happens, Stefan, I’ll be with you. Tell me you believe that.” And he had answered, helpless in her spell, “Oh, Elena, I believe it. Whatever happens, we’ll be together.”
But she had left him. Not by choice maybe, but what did that matter in the end? She had left him and gone away.
There were times when all he wanted was to follow her.
Think about something else, anything else, he told himself, but it was too late. Once unleashed, the images of Elena swirled around him, too painful to bear, too beautiful to push away.
The first time he’d kissed her. The shock of dizzy sweetness when his mouth met hers. And after that, shock after shock, but at some deeper level. As if she were reaching down to the core of himself, a core he’d almost forgotten.
Frightened, he’d felt his defenses tear away. All his secrets, all his resistance, all the tricks he used to keep other people at arm’s length. Elena had ripped through them all, exposing his vulnerability.
Exposing his soul.
And in the end, he found that it was what he wanted. He wanted Elena to see him without defenses, without walls. He wanted her to know him for what he was.
Terrifying? Yes. When she’d discovered his secret at last, when she’d found him feeding on t
hat bird, he had cringed in shame. He was sure that she’d turn away from the blood on his mouth in horror. In disgust.
But when he looked into her eyes that night, he saw understanding. Forgiveness. Love.
Her love had healed him.
And that was when he knew they could never be apart.
Other memories surged up and Stefan held on to them, even though the pain tore into him like claws. Sensations. The feel of Elena against him, supple in his arms. The brush of her hair on his cheek, light as a moth’s wing. The curve of her lips, the taste of them. The impossible midnight blue of her eyes.
All lost. All beyond his reach forever.
But Bonnie had reached Elena. Elena’s spirit, her soul, was still somewhere near.
Of anyone, he should be able to summon it. He had Power at his command. And he had more right than anyone to seek her.
He knew how it was done. Shut your eyes. Picture the person you want to draw near. That was easy. He could see Elena, feel her, smell her. Then call them, let your longing reach out into the emptiness. Open yourself and let your need be felt.
Easier still. He didn’t give a damn about the danger. He gathered all his yearning, all his pain, and sent it out searching like a prayer.
And felt … nothing.
Only void and his own loneliness. Only silence.
His Power wasn’t the same as Bonnie’s. He couldn’t reach the one thing he loved most, the one thing that mattered to him.
He had never felt so alone in his life.
“You want what?” Bonnie said.
“Some sort of records about the history of Fell’s Church. Particularly about the founders,” Stefan said. They were all sitting in Meredith’s car, which was parked a discreet distance behind Vickie’s house. It was dusk of the next day and they had just returned from Sue’s funeral—all but Stefan.
“This has something to do with Sue, doesn’t it?” Meredith’s dark eyes, always so level and intelligent, probed Stefan’s. “You think you’ve solved the mystery.”
“Possibly,” he admitted. He had spent the day thinking. He’d put the pain of last night behind him, and once again he was in control. Although he could not reach Elena, he could justify her faith in him—he could do what she wanted done. And there was a comfort in work, in concentration. In keeping all emotion away. He added, “I have an idea about what might have happened, but it’s a long shot and I don’t want to talk about it until I’m sure.”