by L. J. Smith
Good hunting, it said, and the winged black shape arrowed toward the school.
Good hunting, Elena thought after him, meaning it. She redoubled her speed, her mind fixed all the while on that glimmer of Stefan’s presence.
Stefan lay on his back, wishing his vision wasn’t so blurred or that he had more than a tentative hold on consciousness. The blur was partly pain and partly snow, but there was also a trickle of blood from the three-inch wound in his scalp.
He’d been stupid, of course, not to look around the school; if he had he would have seen the darkened cars parked on the other side. He’d been stupid to come here in the first place. And now he was going to pay for that stupidity.
If only he could collect his thoughts enough to call for help … but the weakness that had allowed these men to overcome him so easily prevented that, too. He’d scarcely fed since the night he’d attacked Tyler. That was ironic, somehow. His own guilt was responsible for the mess he was in.
I should never have tried to change my nature, he thought. Damon had it right after all. Everyone’s the same—Alaric, Caroline, everyone. Everyone will betray you. I should have hunted them all and enjoyed it.
He hoped Damon would take care of Elena. She’d be safe with him; Damon was strong and ruthless. Damon would teach her to survive. He was glad of that.
But something inside him was crying.
The crow’s sharp eyes spotted the crossing shafts of headlight below and dropped. But Damon didn’t need the confirmation of sight; he was homing in on the faint pulsation that was Stefan’s life-force. Faint because Stefan was weak and because he’d all but given up.
You never learn, do you, brother? Damon thought to him. I ought to just leave you where you are. But even as he skimmed the ground, he was changing, taking a shape that would do more damage than a crow.
The black wolf leaped into the knot of men surrounding Stefan, aiming precisely for the one holding the sharpened cylinder of wood above Stefan’s chest. The force of the blow knocked the man ten feet backward, and the stake went skittering across the grass. Damon restrained his impulse—all the stronger because it fit the instincts of the shape he was wearing—to lock his teeth in the man’s throat. He twisted around and went back for the other men who were still standing.
His second rush scattered them, but one of them reached the edge of the light and turned, lifting something to his shoulder. Rifle, thought Damon. And probably loaded with the same specially treated bullets as Alaric’s handgun had been. There was no way to reach the man before he could get a shot off. The wolf growled and crouched for a leap anyway. The man’s fleshy face creased in a smile.
Quick as a striking snake, a white hand reached out of the darkness and knocked the rifle away. The man looked around frantically, bewildered, and the wolf let its jaws fall open in a grin. Elena had arrived.
11
Elena watched Mr. Smallwood’s rifle bounce across the grass. She enjoyed the expression on his face as he spun around, looking for what had grabbed it. And she felt the flare of Damon’s approval from across the pool of light, fierce and hot like the pride of a wolf for its cub’s first kill. But when she glimpsed Stefan lying on the ground, she forgot everything else. White fury took her breath away, and she started toward him.
“Everybody stop! Just stop everything, rig ht where you are!”
The shout was borne toward them along with the sound of tires squealing. Alaric Saltzman’s car nearly spun out as it turned into the staff parking lot and screeched to a halt, and Alaric leaped from the car almost before it stopped moving.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, striding toward the men.
At the shout, Elena had pulled back automatically into the shadows. Now, she looked at the men’s faces as they turned toward him. Besides Mr. Smallwood, she recognized Mr. Forbes and Mr. Bennett, Vickie Bennett’s father. The others must be the fathers of the other guys who’d been with Tyler in the Quonset hut, she thought.
It was one of the strangers who answered the question, in a drawl that couldn’t quite hide the nervousness underneath. “Well now, we just got a little tired of waiting any longer. We decided to speed things up a bit.”
The wolf growled, a low rumbling that rose to a chainsaw snarl. All the men flinched back, and Alaric’s eyes showed white as he noticed the animal for the first time.
There was another sound, softer and continuous, coming from a figure huddled next to one of the cars. Caroline Forbes was whimpering over and over, “They said they just wanted to talk to him. They didn’t tell me what they were going to do.”
Alaric, with one eye on the wolf, gestured toward her. “And you were going to let her see this? A young girl? Do you realize the psychological damage that could do?”
“What about the psychological damage when her throat gets ripped out?” Mr. Forbes returned, and there were shouts of agreement. “That’s what We’re worried about.”
“Then you’d better worry about getting the right man,” Alaric said. “Caroline,” he added, turning toward the girl, “I want you to think, Caroline. We didn’t get to finish your sessions. I know when we left off you thought you recognized Stefan. But, are you absolutely positive it was him? Could it have been somebody else, somebody who resembled him?”
Caroline straightened, bracing herself against the car and raising a tear-stained face. She looked at Stefan, who was just sitting up, and then at Alaric. “I …”
“Think, Caroline. You have to be absolutely certain. Is there someone else it could have been, like—”
“Like that guy who calls himself Damon Smith,” came Meredith’s voice. She was standing beside Alaric’s car, a slim shadow. “You remember him, Caroline? He came to Alaric’s first party. He looks like Stefan in some ways.”
Tension held Elena in perfect suspension as Caroline stared, uncomprehending. Then, slowly, the auburn-haired girl began to nod.
“Yes … it could have been, I suppose. Everything happened so fast … but it could have been.”
“And you really can’t be sure which it was?” Alaric said.
“No … not absolutely sure.”
“There,” said Alaric. “I told you she needed more sessions, that we couldn’t be certain of anything yet. She’s still very confused.” He was walking, carefully, toward Stefan. Elena realized that the wolf had withdrawn back into the shadows. She could see it, but the men probably couldn’t.
Its disappearance made them more aggressive. “What are you talking about? Who is this Smith? I’ve never seen him.”
“But your daughter Vickie probably has, Mr. Bennett,” Alaric said. “That may come out in my next session with her. we’ll talk about it tomorrow; it can wait that long. Right now I think I’d better take Stefan to a hospital.” There was discomforted shifting among some of the men.
“Oh, certainly, and while We’re waiting anything could happen,” began Mr. Smallwood. “Anytime, anywhere—”
“So you’re just going to take the law into your own hands, then?” Alaric said. His voice sharpened. “Whether you’ve got the right suspect or not. Where’s your evidence this boy has supernatural powers? What’s your proof? How much of a fight did he even put up?”
“There’s a wolf around somewhere who put up plenty of fight,” Mr. Smallwood said, red-faced. “Maybe they’re in it together.”
“I don’t see any wolf. I saw a dog. Maybe one of the dogs that got out of quarantine. But what’s that got to do with it? I’m telling you that in my professional opinion you’ve got the wrong man.”
The men were wavering, but there was still some doubt in their faces. Meredith spoke up.
“I think you should know that there’ve been vampire attacks in this county before,” she said. “A long time before Stefan came here. My grandfather was a victim. Maybe some of you have heard about that.” She looked across at Caroline.
That was the end of it. Elena could see the men exchanging uneasy glances and backing toward their cars.
Suddenly they all seemed eager to be somewhere else.
Mr. Smallwood was one who stayed behind to say, “You said we’d talk about this tomorrow, Saltzman. I want to hear what my son says the next time he’s hypnotized.”
Caroline’s father collected her and got in his car fast, muttering something about this all being a mistake and nobody taking it too seriously.
As the last car pulled away, Elena ran to Stefan.
“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”
He moved away from Alaric’s supporting arm. “Somebody hit me from behind while I was talking to Caroline. I’ll be all right—now.” He shot a glance at Alaric. “Thanks. Why?”
“He’s on our side,” said Bonnie, joining them. “I told you. Oh, Stefan, are you really okay? I thought I was going to faint there for a minute.
They weren’t serious. I mean, they couldn’t really have been serious. …”
“Serious or not, I don’t think we should stay here,” said Meredith. “Does Stefan really need a hospital?”
“No,” Stefan said, as Elena anxiously examined the cut on his head. “I just need rest. Somewhere to sit down.”
“I’ve got my keys. Let’s go to the history room,” Alaric said.
Bonnie was looking around the shadows apprehensively. “The wolf, too?” she said, and then jumped as a shadow coalesced and became Damon.
“What wolf?” he said. Stefan turned slightly, wincing.
“Thank you, too,” he said unemotionally. But Stefan’s eyes lingered on his brother with something like puzzlement as they walked to the school building.
In the hallway, Elena pulled him aside. “Stefan, why didn’t you notice them coming up behind you? Why were you so weak?”
Stefan shook his head evasively, and she added, “When did you feed last? Stefan, when? You always make some excuse when I’m around. What are you trying to do to yourself?”
“I’m all right,” he said. “Really, Elena. I’ll hunt later.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
It didn’t occur to Elena at the moment that they hadn’t agreed on what “later” meant. She allowed him to lead her on down the hall.
The history room looked different at night to Elena’s eyes. There was a strange atmosphere about it, as if the lights were too bright. Just now all the students’ desks were shoved out of the way, and five chairs were pulled up to Alaric’s desk. Alaric, who’d just finished arranging the furniture, urged Stefan into his own padded chair.
“Okay, why don’t the rest of you take a seat.”
They just looked at him. After a moment Bonnie sank down into a chair, but Elena stood by Stefan, Damon continued to lounge halfway between the group and the door, and Meredith pushed some papers to the center of Alaric’s desk and perched on the corner.
The teacher look faded from Alaric’s eyes. “All right,” he said and sat down in one of the students’ chairs himself. “Well.”
“Well,” said Elena.
Everyone looked at everyone else. Elena picked up a piece of cotton from the first-aid kit she’d grabbed at the door and began dabbing Stefan’s head with it.
“I think it’s time for that explanation,” she said.
“Right. Yes. Well, you all seemed to have guessed I’m not a history teacher. …”
“In the first five minutes,” Stefan said. His voice was quiet and dangerous, and with a jolt Elena realized it reminded her of Damon’s. “So what are you?”
Alaric made an apologetic gesture and said almost diffidently, “A psychologist. Not the couch kind,” he added hastily as the rest of them exchanged looks. “I’m a researcher, an experimental psychologist. From Duke University. You know, where the ESP experiments were started.”
“The ones where they make you guess what’s on the card without looking at it?” Bonnie asked.
“Yes, well, it’s gone a bit beyond that now, of course. Not that I wouldn’t love to test you with Rhine cards, especially when you’re in one of those trances.” Alaric’s face lit with scientific inquiry. Then he cleared his throat and went on. “But—ah—as I was saying. It started a couple of years ago when I did a paper on parapsychology. I wasn’t trying to prove supernatural powers existed, I just wanted to study what their psychological effect is on the people who have them. Bonnie, here, is a case in point.” Alaric’s voice took on a lecturer’s tone. “What does it do to her, mentally, emotionally, to have to deal with these powers?”
“It’s awful,” Bonnie interrupted vehemently. “I don’t want them anymore. I hate them.”
“Well, there you see,” Alaric said. “You’d have made a great case study. My problem was that I couldn’t find anybody with real psychic powers to examine. There were plenty of fakers, all right—crystal healers, dowsers, channelers, you name it. But I couldn’t find anything genuine until I got a tip from a friend in the police department.
“There was this woman down in South Carolina who claimed she’d been bitten by a vampire, and since then she was having psychic nightmares. By that time I was so used to fakes I expected her to turn out to be one, too. But she wasn’t, at least not about being bitten. I never could prove she was really psychic.”
“How could you be sure she’d been bitten?” Elena asked.
“There was medical evidence. Traces of saliva in her wounds that were similar to human saliva—but not quite the same. It contained an anticoagulatory agent similar to that found in the saliva of leeches. …” Alaric caus ht himself and hurried on. “Anyway, I was sure. And that was how it started. Once I was convinced something had really happened to the woman, I started to look up other cases like hers. There weren’t a lot of them, but they were out there. People who’d encountered vampires.
“I dropped all my other studies and concentrated on finding victims of vampires and examining them. And if I say so myself, I’ve become the foremost expert in the field,” Alaric concluded modestly. “I’ve written a number of papers—”
“But you’ve never actually seen a vampire,” Elena interrupted. “Until now, I mean. Is that right?”
“Well—no. Not in the flesh, as it were. But I’ve written monographs … and things.” His voice trailed off.
Elena bit her lip. “What were you doing with the dogs?” she asked. “At the church, when you were waving your hands at them.”
“Oh …” Alaric looked embarrassed. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there, you know. That was a spell an old mountain man showed me for fending off evil. I thought it might work.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn,” said Damon.
“Obviously,” Alaric said stiffly. Then he grimaced. “Actually, I figured that out right after I got here. Your principal, Brian Newcastle, had heard of me. He knew about the studies I do. When Tanner was killed and Dr. Feinberg found no blood in the body and lacerations made by teeth in the neck … well, they gave me a call. I thought it could be a big break for me—a case with the vampire still in the area. The only problem was that once I got here I realized they expected me to take care of the vampire. They didn’t know I’d dealt only with the victims before. And … well, maybe I was in over my head. But I did my best to justify their confidence—”
“You faked it,” Elena accused. “That was what you were doing when I heard you talking to them at your house about finding our supposed lair and all that. You were just winging it.”
“Well, not completely,” Alaric said. “Theoretically, I am an expert.” Then he did a double take. “What do you mean, when you heard me talking to them?”
“While you were out searching for a lair, she was sleeping in your attic,” Damon informed him dryly. Alaric opened his mouth and then shut it again.
“What I’d like to know is how Meredith comes into all this,” Stefan said. He wasn’t smiling.
Meredith, who had been gazing thoughtfully at the jumble of papers on Alaric’s desk during all this, looked up. She spoke evenly, without emotion.
&nbs
p; “I recognized him, you see. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him at first, because it was almost three years ago. Then I realized it was at Granddad’s hospital. What I told those men was the truth, Stefan. My grandfather was attacked by a vampire.”
There was a little silence and then Meredith went on. “It happened a long time ago, before I was born. He wasn’t badly hurt by it, but he never really got well. He became … well, sort of like Vickie, only more violent. It got so that they were afraid he’d harm himself, or somebody else. So they took him to a hospital, a place he’d be safe.”
“A mental institution,” Elena said. She felt a pang of sympathy for the dark-haired girl. “Oh, Meredith. But why didn’t you say anything? You could have told us.”
“I know. I could have … but I couldn’t. The family’s kept it a secret so long—or tried anyway. From what Caroline wrote in her diary, she’d obviously heard. The thing is, nobody ever believed Granddad’s stories about the vampire. They just thought it was another of his delusions, and he had a lot of them. Even I didn’t believe them … until Stefan came. And then—I don’t know, my mind started to put little things together. But I didn’t really believe what I was thinking until you came back, Elena.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hate me,” Elena said softly.
“How could I? I know you, and I know Stefan. I know you’re not evil.” Meredith didn’t glance at Damon; he might as well not have been present for all the acknowledgment she gave him. “But when I remembered seeing Alaric talking to Granddad at the hospital I knew he wasn’t, either. I just didn’t know exactly how to get all of you together to prove it.”
“I didn’t recognize you, either,” Alaric said. “The old man had a different name—he’s your mother’s father, right? And I may have seen you hanging around the waiting room sometime, but you were just a kid with skinny legs then. You’ve changed,” he added appreciatively.
Bonnie coughed, a pointed sound.
Elena was trying to arrange things in her mind. “So what were those men doing out there with a stake if you didn’t tell them to be?”