The Fury

by L. J. Smith

  “In those days, they called it witchery. But I never used my powers for harm, and when I died they built me this monument so that my husband and I could lie in peace. But then, after many years, our peace was disturbed.”

  The eldritch light ebbed and flowed, Honoria’s form wavering. “Another Power came to Fell’s Church, full of hatred and destruction. It defiled my resting place and scattered my bones. It made its home here. It went out to work evil against my town. I woke.

  “I have tried to warn you against it from the beginning, Elena. It lives here below the graveyard. It has been waiting for you, watching you. Sometimes in the form of an owl—”

  An owl. Elena’s mind raced ahead. An owl, like the owl she had seen nesting in the belfry of the church. Like the owl that had been in the barn, like the owl in the black locust tree by her house.

  White owl … hunting bird … flesh eater … she thought. And then she remembered great white wings that seemed to stretch to the horizon on either side. A great bird made of mist or snow, coming after her, focused on her, full of bloodlust and animal hate …

  “No!” she cried, memory engulfing her.

  She felt Stefan’s hands on her shoulders, his fingers digging in almost painfully. It brought her back to reality. Honoria Fell was still speaking.

  “And you, Stefan, it has been watching you. It hated you before it hated Elena. It has been tormenting you and playing with you like a cat with a mouse. It hates those you love. It is full of poisoned love itself.”

  Elena looked involuntarily behind her. She saw Meredith, Alaric, and Matt standing frozen. Bonnie and Stefan were next to her. But Damon … where was Damon?

  “Its hatred has grown so great that any death will do, any blood spilled will give it pleasure. Right now, the animals it controls are slinking out of the woods. They are moving toward the town, toward the lights.”

  “The Snow Dance!” Meredith said sharply.

  “Yes. And this time they will kill until the last of them is killed.”

  “We have to warn those people,” Matt said. “Everyone at that dance—”

  “You will never be safe until the mind that controls them is destroyed. The killing will go on. You must destroy the Power that hates; that is why I have brought you here.”

  There was another flux in the light; it seemed to be receding. “You have the courage, if you can find it. Be strong. This is the only help I can give you.”

  “Wait—please—” Elena began.

  The voice continued relentlessly, taking no heed of her. “Bonnie, you have a choice. Your secret powers are a responsibility. They are also a gift, and one that can be taken away. Do you choose to relinquish them?”

  “I—” Bonnie shook her head, frightened.” I don’t know. I need time. …”

  “There is no time. Choose.” The light was dwindling, caving in on itself.

  Bonnie’s eyes were bewildered and uncertain as she searched Elena’s face for help. “It’s your choice,” Elena whispered. “You have to decide for yourself.”

  Slowly, the uncertainty left Bonnie’s face, and she nodded. She stood away from Elena, without support, turning back to the light. “I’ll keep them,” she said huskily.” I’ll deal with them somehow. My grandmother did.”

  There was a flicker of something like amusement from the light. “You’ve chosen wisely. May you use them as well. This is the last time I will speak to you.”

  “But—”

  “I have earned my rest. The fight is yours.” And the glow faded, like the last embers of a dying fire.

  With it gone, Elena could feel the pressure all around her. Something was going to happen. Some crushing force was coming toward them, or hanging over them. “Stefan—”

  Stefan felt it too; she could tell. “Come on,” Bonnie said, her voice panicked.” We have to get out of here.”

  “We have to get to the dance,” Matt gasped. His face was white. “We have to help them—”

  “Fire,” cried Bonnie, looking startled, as if the thought had just come to her. “Fire won’t kill them, but it will hold them off—”

  “Didn’t you listen? We have to face the Other Power. And it’s here, right here, right now. We can’t go!” Elena cried. Her mind was filled with turmoil. Images, memories, and a dreadful foreboding. Bloodlust … she could feel it. …

  “Alaric.” Stefan spoke with the ring of command. “You go back. Take the others; do what you can. I’ll stay—”

  “I think we all should leave!” Alaric shouted. He had to shout to be heard over the deafening noise surrounding them.

  His weaving flashlight showed Elena something she hadn’t noticed before. In the wall next to her was a gaping hole, as if the stone facing had been ripped away. And beyond was a tunnel into the raw earth, black and endless.

  Where does it go? Elena wondered, but the thought was lost among the tumult of her fear. White owl … hunting bird … flesh eater … crow, she thought, and suddenly she knew with blinding clarity what she was afraid of.

  “Where’s Damon?” she screamed, dragging Stefan around as she turned, looking.” Where’s Damon?”

  “Get out!” cried Bonnie, her voice shrill with terror. She threw herself toward the gate just as the sound split the darkness.

  It was a snarl, but not a dog’s snarl. It could never be mistaken for that. It was so much deeper, heavier, more, resonant. It was a huge sound, and it reeked of the jungle, of the hunting bloodlust. It reverberated in Elena’s chest, jarred her bones.

  It paralyzed her.

  The sound came again, hungry and savage, but somehow almost lazy. That confident. And with it came heavy footfalls from the tunnel.

  Bonnie was trying to scream, making only a thin whistling sound. In the blackness of the tunnel, something was coming. A shape that moved with a rangy feline swing. Elena recognized the snarl now. It was the sound of the largest of the hunting cats, larger than a lion. The tiger’s eyes showed yellow as it reached the end of the tunnel.

  And then everything happened at once.

  Elena felt Stefan try to pull her backward to get her out of the way. But her own petrified muscles were a hindrance to him, and she knew that it was too late.

  The tiger’s leap was grace itself, powerful muscles launching it into the air. In that instant, she saw it as if caught in the light of a flashbulb, and her mind noted the lean shining flanks and the supple backbone. But her voice screamed out on its own.

  “Damon, no!”

  It was only as the black wolf sprang out of the darkness to meet it that she realized the tiger was white.

  The great cat’s rush was thrown off by the wolf, and Elena felt Stefan wrench her out of the way, pulling her sideways to safety. Her muscles had melted like snowflakes, and she yielded numbly as he put her against the wall. The lid of the tomb was between her and the snarling white shape now, but the gate was on the other side of the fight.

  Elena’s own weakness was part terror and part bewilderment. She didn’t understand anything; confusion roared in her ears. A moment ago she had been certain Damon had been playing with them all this time, that he had been the Other Power all along. But the malice and the bloodlust that emanated from the tiger were unmistakable. This was what had chased her in the graveyard, and from the boardinghouse to the river and her death. This white Power that the wolf was fighting to kill.

  It was an impossible match. The black wolf, vicious and aggressive though it might be, didn’t stand a chance. One swipe of the tiger’s huge claws laid the wolf’s shoulder open to the bone. Its jaws snarled open as it tried to get a bonecracking grip on the wolf’s neck.

  But then Stefan was there, training the blaze of the flashlight into the cat’s eyes, thrusting the wounded wolf out of the way. Elena wished she could scream, wished she could do something to release this rushing ache inside her. She didn’t understand; she didn’t understand anything. Stefan was in danger. But she couldn’t move.

  “Get out!” Stefan was sh
outing to the others.” Do it now; get out!”

  Faster than any human, he darted out of the way of a white paw, keeping the light in the tiger’s eyes. Meredith was on the other side of the gate now. Matt was half carrying and half dragging Bonnie. Alaric was through.

  The tiger lunged and the gate crashed shut. Stefan fell to the side, slipping as he tried to scramble up again.

  “We won’t leave you—” Alaric cried.

  “Go!” shouted Stefan.” Get to the dance; do what you can! Go!”

  The wolf was attacking again, despite the bleeding wounds in its head, and its shoulder where muscle and tendon lay exposed and shining. The tiger fought back. The animal sounds rose to a volume that Elena couldn’t stand. Meredith and the others were gone; Alaric’s flashlight had disappeared.

  “Stefan!” she screamed, seeing him poised to jump into the fight again.

  If he died, she would die, too. And if she had to die, she wanted it to be with him.

  The paralysis left her, and she stumbled toward him, sobbing, reaching out to clutch him tightly. She felt his arm around her as he held her with his body between her and the noise and violence. But she was stubborn, as stubborn as he was. She twisted, and then they faced it together.

  The wolf was down. It was lying on its back, and although its fur was too dark to show the blood, a red pool gathered beneath it. The white cat stood above it, jaws gaping inches from the vulnerable black throat.

  But the death-dealing bite to the neck didn’t come. Instead the tiger raised its head to look at Stefan and Elena.

  With a strange calmness, Elena found herself noticing tiny details of its appearance.

  The whiskers were straight and slender, like silver wires. Its fur was pure white, striped with faint marks like unburnished gold. White and gold, she thought, remembering the owl in the barn. And that stirred another memory … of something she’d seen … or something she’d heard about. …

  With a heavy swipe, the cat sent the flashlight flying out of Stefan’s hand. Elena heard him hiss in pain, but she could no longer see anything in the blackness. Where there was no light at all, even a hunter was blind. Clinging to him, she waited for the pain of the killing blow.

  But suddenly her head was reeling; it was full of gray and spinning fog and she couldn’t hold on to Stefan. She couldn’t think; she couldn’t speak. The floor seemed to be dropping away from her. Dimly, she realized that Power was being used against her, that it was overwhelming her mind.

  She felt Stefan’s body giving, slumping, falling away from her, and she could no longer resist the fog. She fell forever and never knew when she hit the ground.

  14

  White owl … hunting bird … hunter … tiger. Playing with you like a cat with a mouse. Like a cat … a great cat … a kitten. A white kitten.

  Death is in the house.

  And the kitten, the kitten had run from Damon. Not out of fear, but out of the fear of being discovered. Like when it had stood on Margaret’s chest and wailed at the sight of Elena outside the window.

  Elena moaned and almost surfaced from unconsciousness, but the gray fog dragged her back under before she could open her eyes. Her thoughts seethed around her again.

  Poisoned love … Stefan, it hated you before it hated Elena. … White and gold … something white … something white under the tree …

  This time, when she struggled to open her eyes, she succeeded. And even before she could focus in the dim and shifting light, she knew. She finally knew.

  The figure in the trailing white dress turned from the candle she was lighting, and Elena saw what might have been her own face on its shoulders. But it was a subtly distorted face, pale and beautiful as an ice sculpture, but wrong. It was like the endless reflections of herself Elena had seen in her dream of the hall of mirrors. Twisted and hungry, and mocking.

  “Hello, Katherine,” she whispered.

  Katherine smiled, a sly and predatory smile. “You’re not as stupid as I thought,” she said.

  Her voice was light and sweet—silvery, Elena thought. Like her eyelashes. There were silvery lights in her dress when she moved, too. But her hair was gold, almost as pale a gold as Elena’s own. Her eyes were like the kitten’s eyes: round and jewel blue. At her throat she wore a necklace with a stone of the same vivid color.

  Elena’s own throat was sore, as if she had been screaming. It felt dry as well. When she turned her head slowly to the side, even that little motion hurt.

  Stefan was beside her, slumped forward, bound by his arms to the wrought-iron pickets of the gate. His head sagged against his chest, but what she could see of his face was deathly white. His throat was torn, and blood had dripped onto his collar and dried.

  Elena turned back to Katherine so quickly that her head spun. “Why? Why did you do that?”

  Katherine smiled, showing pointed white teeth. “Because I love him,” she said in a childish singsong. “Don’t you love him, too?”

  It was only then that Elena fully realized why she couldn’t move, and why her arms hurt. She was tied up like Stefan, lashed securely to the closed gate. A painful turning of her head to the other side revealed Damon.

  He was in worse shape than his brother. His jacket and arm were ripped open, and the sight of the wound made Elena sick. His shirt hung in tatters, and Elena could see the tiny movement of his ribs as he breathed. If it hadn’t been for that, she would have thought he was dead. Blood matted his hair and ran into his closed eyes.

  “Which one do you like better?” Katherine asked, in an intimate, confiding tone.” You can tell me. Which one do you think is best?”

  Elena looked at her, sickened. “Katherine,” she whispered.” Please. Please listen to me. …”

  “Tell me. Go on.” Those jewel blue eyes filled Elena’s vision as Katherine leaned in close, her lips almost touching Elena’s. “I think they’re both fun. Do you like fun, Elena?”

  Revolted, Elena shut her eyes and turned her face away. If only her head would stop spinning.

  Katherine stepped back with a clear laugh. “I know, it’s so hard to choose.” She did a little pirouette, and Elena saw that what she had vaguely taken for the train to Katherine’s dress was Katherine’s hair. It flowed like molten gold down her back to spill over the floor, trailing behind her.

  “It all depends on your taste,” Katherine continued, doing a few graceful dance steps and ending up in front of Damon. She looked over at Elena impishly.” But then I have such a sweet tooth.” She grasped Damon by the hair, and, yanking his head up, sank her teeth into his neck.

  “No! Don’t do that; don’t hurt him any more….” Elena tried to surge forward, but she was tied too tightly. The gate was solid iron, set in stone, and the ropes were sturdy. Katherine was making animal sounds, gnawing and chewing at the flesh, and Damon moaned even in unconsciousness. Elena saw his body jerk reflexively with pain.

  “Please stop; oh, please stop—”

  Katherine lifted her head. Blood was running down her chin. “But I’m hungry and he’s so good,” she said. She reared back and struck again, and Damon’s body spasmed. Elena cried out.

  I was like that, she thought. In the beginning, that first night in the woods, I was like that. I hurt Stefan like that, I wanted to kill him. …

  Darkness swept up around her, and she gave in to it gratefully.

  Alaric’s car skewed on a patch of ice as it reached the school, and Meredith almost ran into it. She and Matt jumped out of her car, leaving the doors open. Ahead, Alaric and Bonnie did the same.

  “What about the rest of the town?” Meredith shouted, running toward them. The wind was rising, and her face burned with frost.

  “Just Elena’s family—Aunt Judith and Margaret,” Bonnie cried. Her voice was shrill and frightened, but there was a look of concentration in her eyes. She leaned her head back as if trying to remember something, and said, “Yes, that’s it. They’re the other ones the dogs will be after. Make them go somewhere—l
ike the cellar. Keep them there!”

  “I’ll do it. You three take the dance!”

  Bonnie turned to run after Alaric. Meredith raced back to her car.

  The dance was in the last stages of breaking up. As many couples were outside as inside, starting toward the parking lot. Alaric shouted at them as he and Matt and Bonnie came pounding up.

  “Go back in! Get everybody inside and shut the doors!” he yelled at the sheriff’s officers.

  But there wasn’t time. He reached the cafeteria just as the first lurking shape in the darkness did. One officer went down without a sound or a chance to fire his gun.

  Another was quicker, and a gunshot rang out, amplified by the concrete courtyard. Students screamed and began to run away from it, into the parking lot. Alaric went after them, yelling, trying to herd them back.

  Other shapes came out of the darkness, from between parked cars, from all sides. Panic ensued. Alaric kept shouting, kept trying to gather the terrified students toward the building. Out here they were easy prey.

  In the courtyard, Bonnie turned to Matt. “We need fire!” she said. Matt darted into the cafeteria and came out with a box half-full of dance programs. He threw it to the ground, groping in his pockets for one of the matches they’d used to light the candle before.

  The paper caught and burned brightly. It formed an island of safety. Matt continued to wave people into the cafeteria doors behind it. Bonnie plunged inside, to find a scene just as riotous as outside.

  She looked around for someone in authority but couldn’t see any adults, only panicked kids. Then the red and green crepe paper decorations caught her eye.

  The noise was thunderous; even a shout couldn’t be heard in here. Struggling past the people trying to get out, she made it to the far side of the room. Caroline was there, looking pale without her summer tan, and wearing the snow queen tiara. Bonnie towed her to the microphone.

  “You’re good at talking. Tell them to get inside and stay in! Tell them to start taking down the decorations. We need anything that’ll burn—wood chairs, stuff in garbage cans, anything. Tell them it’s our only chance!” She added, as Caroline stared at her, frightened and uncomprehending: “You’ve got the crown on now—so do something with it!”