by L. J. Smith
Bonnie shivered, the delicious shiver of a reader who had gotten what she expected. The fairy tale, with its moral of “don’t be greedy” was like the stories she’d heard from the Red and the Blue Fairy Books when she was a child sitting on her grandmother’s lap.
She missed Elena and Meredith, badly. She had a story to tell, but no one to tell it to.
12
“Stefan. Stefan!” Elena had been too nervous to stay out of the bedroom for longer than the five minutes it had taken to show herself to the sheriffs. It was Stefan the officers really wanted and couldn’t find, not seeming to consider that someone might backtrack and hide in a room that had already been searched.
And now Elena couldn’t get a response out of Stefan, who was locked in an embrace with Meredith, mouth pressed tightly over the two little wounds he’d made. Elena had to shake him by the shoulders, to shake both of them, in order to get any response.
Then Stefan reared back suddenly, but held on to Meredith, who would otherwise have fallen. He hastily licked blood from his lips. For once, though, Elena wasn’t focused on him, but on her friend—her friend whom she’d allowed to do this.
Meredith’s eyes were shut, but they had dark, almost plum-colored circles under them. Her lips were parted, and her dark cloud of hair was wet where tears had fallen into it.
“Meredith? Merry?” The old nickname just slipped out of Elena’s lips. And then, when Meredith gave no sign of having heard her: “Stefan, what’s wrong?”
“I Influenced her at the end to sleep.” Stefan lifted Meredith and put her on the bed.
“But what happened? Why is she crying—and what’s wrong with you?” Elena couldn’t help but notice that despite the healthy flush on Stefan’s cheeks his eyes were shadowed.
“Something I saw—in her mind,” Stefan said briefly, pulling Elena behind his back. “Here comes one of them. Stay there.”
The door opened. It was the male sheriff, who was red-faced and panting, and who had clearly just lapped himself, returning to this room after starting from it to search the entire first floor.
“I have them all in a room—all but the fugitive,” the sheriff said into a large black mobile. The female sheriff made some brief reply. Then the red-faced male turned to speak to the teenagers. “Now what’s going to happen is that I’m going to search you”—he nodded at Stefan—“while my partner searches you two.” His head jerked, ear-first, at Meredith. “What’s wrong with her, anyway?”
“Nothing that you could understand,” Stefan replied coolly.
The sheriff looked as if he couldn’t believe what had just been said. Then, suddenly, he looked as if he could, and did, and he took a step toward Meredith.
Stefan snarled.
The sound made Elena, who was right behind him, jump. It was the low savage snarl of an animal protecting its mate, its pack, its territory.
The ruddy-faced policeman suddenly looked pale and panicked. Elena guessed that he was looking at a mouth full of teeth much sharper than his own, and tinged with blood as well.
Elena didn’t want this to turn into a pi—that was, a…snarling match.
As the sheriff gabbled to his partner, “We may need some of them silver bullets after all,” Elena poked her beloved, who was now making a noise like a very big buzz saw that she could feel in her teeth, and whispered, “Stefan, Influence him! The other one’s coming, and she may already have called for backup.”
At her touch, Stefan stopped making the sound, and when he turned she could see his face changing from that of a savage animal baring its teeth back to his own dear, green-eyed self. He must have taken a lot of blood from Meredith, she thought, with a flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
But there was no denying the after-effects. Stefan turned back to the male sheriff and said crisply, “You will go into the front hallway. You will remain there, silent, until I tell you to move or speak.” Then, without looking up to see if the officer was obeying or not, he tucked the blankets more tightly around Meredith.
Elena was watching the sheriff, though, and she noticed that he didn’t hesitate an instant. He made an about-face and marched off to the front foyer.
Then Elena felt safe enough to look at Meredith again. She couldn’t find anything wrong in her friend’s face, except her unnatural pallor, and those violet shadows around her eyes.
“Meredith?” she whispered.
No response. Elena followed Stefan out of the room.
She had just made it to the foyer when the female sheriff ambushed them. Coming down the stairs, pushing the fragile Mrs. Flowers before her, she shouted, “On the ground! All of you!” She gave Mrs. Flowers a hard shove forward. “Get down now!”
When Mrs. Flowers almost fell sprawling on the floor, Stefan leaped and caught her, and then turned back to the other woman. For a moment Elena thought that he would snarl again, but instead, in a voice tight with self-control, he said, “Join your partner. You can’t move or speak without my permission.”
He took the shaken-looking Mrs. Flowers to a chair on the left side of the foyer. “Did that—person—hurt you?”
“No, no. Just get them out of my house, Stefan, dear, and I’ll be most grateful,” Mrs. Flowers replied.
“Done,” Stefan said softly. “I’m sorry we’ve caused you so much trouble—in your own home.” He looked at each of the sheriffs, his eyes piercing. “Go away and don’t come back. You have searched the house, but none of the people you were looking for were here. You think further surveillance will yield nothing. You believe that you would do more good by helping the—what was it? Oh, yes, the mayhem in the town of Fell’s Church. You will never come here again. Now go back to your car and leave.”
Elena felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She could feel the Power behind Stefan’s words.
And, as always, it was satisfying to see cruel or angry people become docile under the power of a vampire’s Influence. These two stood for another ten seconds quite still, and then they simply walked out the front door.
Elena listened to the sound of the sheriff’s car driving away and such a strong feeling of relief washed over her that she almost collapsed. Stefan put his arms around her, and Elena hugged him back tightly, knowing that her heart was pounding. She could feel it in her chest and her fingertips.
It’s all over. All done now, Stefan thought to her and Elena suddenly felt something different. She felt pride. Stefan had simply taken charge and chased the officers away.
Thank you, she thought to Stefan.
“I guess we’d better get Matt out of the root cellar,” she added.
Matt was unhappy. “Thanks for hiding me—but do you know how long that was?” he demanded of Elena when they were upstairs again. “And no light except what was in that little star ball. And no sound—I couldn’t hear a thing down there. And what is this?” He held out the long, heavy wooden staff, with its strangely shaped, spiked ends.
Elena felt sudden panic. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?” She snatched up Matt’s hands, letting the long staff fall to the ground. But Matt didn’t seem to have a single scratch.
“I wasn’t dumb enough to hold it by the ends,” he said.
“Meredith did, for some reason,” Elena said. “Her palms were covered with wounds. And I don’t even know what it is.”
“I do,” Stefan said quietly. He picked up the stave. “But it’s Meredith’s secret really. I mean it’s Meredith’s property,” he added hastily as all eyes fixed on him at the word secret.
“Well, I’m not blind,” Matt said in his frank, straightforward way, flipping back some fair hair in order to look more closely at the thing. He raised blue eyes to Elena. “I know what it smells like, which is vervain. And I know what it looks like with all those silver and iron spikes coming out of the sharp ends. It looks like a giant staff for exterminating every kind of Godawful Hellacious monster that walks on this earth.”
“And vamp
ires, too,” Elena added hastily. She knew that Stefan was in a funny mood and she definitely didn’t want to see Matt, for whom she still cared deeply, lying on the floor with a crushed skull. “And even humans—I think these bigger spikes are for injecting poison.”
“Poison?” Matt looked at his own palms hastily.
“You’re okay,” Elena said. “I checked you, and besides it would be a very quick-acting poison.”
“Yes, they would want to take you out of the fight as fast as possible,” Stefan said. “So if you’re alive now, you’re likely to stay that way. And now, this Godawful Hellacious monster just wants to get back up to bed.” He turned to go to the attic. He must have heard Elena’s swift, involuntarily indrawn breath, because he turned around and she could see that he was sorry. His eyes were dark emerald, sad but blazing with unused Power.
I think we’ll have a late morning, Elena thought, feeling pleasurable thrills ripple through her. She squeezed Stefan’s hand, and felt him return the pressure. She could see what he had in mind; they were close enough and he was projecting pretty clearly what he wanted—and she was as eager to get upstairs as he was.
But at that moment Matt, eyes on the wickedly spiked staff, said, “Meredith has something to do with that?”
“I should never have said anything at all about it,” Stefan replied. “But if you want to know more, you’d really better ask Meredith herself. Tomorrow.”
“All right,” Matt said, finally seeming to understand. Elena was way ahead of him. A weapon like that was—could only be—for killing all sorts of monsters walking the earth. And Meredith—Meredith who was as slim and athletic as a ballerina with a black belt, and oh! Those lessons! The lessons that Meredith had always put off if the girls were doing something at that exact moment, but that she always somehow managed to make time for.
But a girl could hardly be expected to carry a harpsichord around with her and nobody else had one. Besides, Meredith had said she hated to play, so her BFFs had let it go at that. It was all part of the Meredith mystique.
And riding lessons? Elena would bet some of them were genuine. Meredith would want to know how to make a quick escape mounting anything available.
But if Meredith wasn’t practicing for a little light music in the drawing room, or for starring in a Hollywood Western—then what would she have been doing?
Training, Elena guessed. There were a lot of dojos out there, and if Meredith had been doing this since that vampire attacked her grandfather she must be pretty darn good. And when we’ve fought grisly things, whose eyes have ever been on her, a soft gray shadow that kept out of the limelight? A lot of monsters probably got knocked out but good.
The only question that needed to be answered was why Meredith hadn’t shown them the Godawful Hellacious monster staker or used it in any fights—say against Klaus—until now. And Elena didn’t know, but she could ask Meredith herself. Tomorrow, when Meredith was up. But she trusted that it had some simple answer.
Elena tried to stifle a yawn in a ladylike way. Stefan? she asked. Can you get us out of here—without picking me up—and to your room?
“I think we’ve all had enough stress this morning,” Stefan said in his own gentle voice. “Mrs. Flowers, Meredith is in the first-floor bedroom—she’ll probably sleep very late. Matt—”
“I know, I know. I don’t know where the schedule went but I might as well make it my night.” Matt presented an arm to Stefan.
Stefan looked surprised. Darling, you can never have too much blood, Elena thought to him, seriously and straightforwardly.
“Mrs. Flowers and I will be in the kitchen,” she said aloud.
When they were there, Mrs. Flowers said, “Don’t forget to thank Stefan for defending the boardinghouse for me.”
“He did it because it’s our home,” Elena said, and went back into the hall, where Stefan was thanking a flushing Matt.
And then Mrs. Flowers called Matt into the kitchen and Elena found herself swooped up in lithe, hard arms and then they were gaining altitude rapidly, with the wood staircase emitting little creaks and groans of protest. And finally they were in Stefan’s room and Elena was in Stefan’s arms.
There was no better place to be, or anything else either of them really wanted now, Elena thought and turned her face up as Stefan turned his down and they began with a long slow kiss. And then the kiss went molten, and Elena had to cling to Stefan, who was already holding her with arms that could have cracked granite, but only squeezed her exactly as tightly as she wanted them to.
13
Elena, sleeping serenely with one hand locked onto Stefan’s, knew she was having an extraordinary dream. No, not a dream—an out-of-body experience. But it wasn’t like her previous out-of-body visits to Stefan in his cell. She was skimming through the air so quickly that she couldn’t really make out what was below her.
She looked around and suddenly, to her astonishment, another figure appeared beside her.
“Bonnie!” she said—or rather tried to say. But of course there was no sound. Bonnie looked like a transparent edition of herself. As if someone had created her out of blown glass, and then put in just the faintest tint of color in her hair and eyes.
Elena tried telepathy. Bonnie?
Elena! Oh, I miss you and Meredith so much! I’m stuck here in a hole—
A hole? Elena could hear the panic in her own telepathy. It made Bonnie wince.
Not a real hole. A dive. An inn, I guess, but I’m locked in and they only feed me twice a day and take me to the toilet once—
My God! How did you get there?
Well… Bonnie hesitated. I guess it was my own fault.
It doesn’t matter! How long have you been there, exactly?
Um, this is my second day. I think.
There was a pause. Then Elena said, Well, a couple of days in a bad place can seem like forever.
Bonnie tried to make her case clearer. It’s just that I’m so bored and lonely. I miss you and Meredith so much! she repeated.
I was thinking of you and Meredith, too, Elena said.
But Meredith’s there with you, isn’t she? Oh my God, she didn’t fall, too? Bonnie blurted.
No, no! She didn’t fall. Elena couldn’t decide whether to tell Bonnie about Meredith or not. Maybe not just yet, she thought.
She couldn’t see what she was rushing toward, although she could feel that they were slowing down. Can you see anything?
Hey, yeah, below us! There’s a car! Should we go down?
Of course. Can we hold hands?
They found that they couldn’t, but that just trying to kept them closer together. In another moment they were sinking through the roof of a small car.
Hey! It’s Alaric! Bonnie said.
Alaric Saltzman was Meredith’s engaged-to-be-engaged boyfriend. He was about twenty-three now, and his sandy-blond hair and hazel eyes hadn’t changed since Elena had seen him almost ten months ago. He was a parapsychologist at Duke, going for his doctorate.
We’ve been trying to get hold of him for ages, Bonnie said.
I know. Maybe this is the way we’re supposed to contact him.
Where is he supposed to be again?
Some weird place in Japan. I forget what it’s called, but look at the map on the passenger seat.
She and Bonnie intermingled as they did, their ghostly forms passing right through each other.
Unmei no Shima: The Island of Doom, was written at the top of an outline of an island. The map beside him had a large red X on it with the caption: The Field of Punished Virgins.
The what? Bonnie asked indignantly. What’s that mean?
I don’t know. But look, this fog is real fog. And it’s raining. And this road is terrible.
Bonnie dove outside. Ooh, so weird. The rain’s going right through me. And I don’t think this is a road.
Elena said, Come back in and look at this. There aren’t any other cities on the island, just a name. Dr. Celia Connor, forensic path
ologist.
What’s a forensic pathologist?
I think, Elena said, that they investigate murders and things. And they dig up dead people to find out why they died.
Bonnie shuddered. I don’t think I like this very much.
Neither do I. But look outside. This was a village once, I think.
There was almost nothing left of the village. Just a few ruins of wooden buildings that were obviously rotting, and some tumbledown, blackened stone structures. There was one large building with an enormous bright yellow tarp over it.
When the car reached this building, Alaric skidded to a stop, grabbed the map and a small suitcase, and dashed through the rain and mud to get under cover. Elena and Bonnie followed.
He was met near the entrance by a very young black woman, whose hair was cut short and sleek around her elfin face. She was small, not even Elena’s height. She had eyes dancing with excitement and white, even teeth that made for a Hollywood smile.
“Dr. Connor?” Alaric said, looking awed.
Meredith isn’t going to like this, Bonnie said.
“Just Celia, please,” the woman said, taking his hand. “Alaric Saltzman, I presume.”
“Just Alaric, please—Celia.”
Meredith really isn’t going to like this, Elena said.
“So you’re the spook investigator,” Celia was saying below them. “Well, we need you. This place has spooks—or did once. I don’t know if they’re still here or not.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“More like sad and morbid. Sad and weird and morbid. I’ve excavated all sorts of ruins, especially those where there’s a chance of genocide. And I’ll tell you: This island is unlike any place I have ever seen,” Celia said.
Alaric was already pulling things from his case, a thick stack of papers, a small camcorder, a notebook. He turned on the camcorder, and looked through the viewfinder, then propped it up with some of the papers. When he apparently had Celia in focus, he grabbed the notebook too.
Celia looked amused. “How many ways do you need to take down information?”