The War of Roses

by L. J. Smith

He looked almost puzzled, as if he was wondering over her, trying to make out whether she was mostly funny or mostly . . . something else. Something that made the breath catch in Bonnie’s throat.

  He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, but he did it absent-mindedly, all the time looking down at her intently. Bonnie shivered once as she felt the warm leather encasing her—warm from Damon’s body heat. The jacket actually seemed to generate warmth that radiated through Bonnie all the way down to her chilly toes.

  But this fact passed through her mind only vaguely, because right now Bonnie was thinking with her heart. She felt spellbound, wrapped not just in warmth but in dizzy lightness, as if she were floating. And nothing mattered except Damon’s closeness and the wonderful way he was looking at her.

  “You’re a contradictory little thing,” he murmured, almost as if he were talking to himself. “You say that you’re terrified—and I believe you—but when you’ve got something that’s more frightened than you are to protect, you try to fight off certain death with a splintered stick.”

  He smiled faintly, just one corner of his mouth quirking up, and Bonnie realize with a thrill that it was a genuine smile, not the flashy one he put on for all sorts of reasons. This was just for her, and his eyes had gone soft and velvety for her, too.

  Bonnie knew that her own lips were parted in astonishment, her breath coming lightly and quickly. She had never realized . . . but then she’d never really allowed herself to imagine this. It was all like some magical dream.

  “You know,” he said, very slowly and softly, as if he were puzzling out each word, “there are times when I think I’ve had enough of adventure, little redbird. When I just want to . . . come home. But . . . where is home, really? I wonder about that. Don’t you think sometimes that it’s nice to just relax . . . on your nest?”

  A worry was nagging at Bonnie, trying to be born, but she pushed it away. She did her best to answer Damon’s question. “I suppose so,” she managed at last, hearing the quiver in her own soft voice. “I . . . I think . . .”

  “Don’t think,” Damon murmured. “Redbird, don’t think. Just . . . be.”

  He was holding her now, and his arms were strong and certain and a yearning joy told Bonnie that she never wanted him to let go. She felt her eyes drift shut, but at the same time, she could sense what Damon was doing. He was bending down to her, slowly, and then his lips touched hers, so softly, so gently that it was actually a shock of sweetness to all her senses. A throb of pure heavenly bliss pulsed through her body, dissolving her so that she was all softness, all gentleness as she kissed him back. They were in perfect harmony, and they could never be out of tune. Bonnie was as captivated as a little mating songbird by the bright plumage and melody of her born nestmate.

  For a long, long moment the kiss held and Bonnie couldn’t think at all, but only feel and be. It was as if she were flying; there was a breathless rush and surge inside her and around her. She knew that this wondrous flight was changing her forever, that from now until eternity, she would always be a part of . . .

  Wait! No! Stop!

  Bonnie’s nagging worry burst through the sweetness and the melody and flared red on the inside of her eyelids. It was as if the words themselves were dragging her back to a reality she didn’t want to remember. She only wanted to—

  Elena!

  Oh, my God, Bonnie thought, no longer a little mating songbird, no longer flying, only falling. And the reality that she fell into filled her with horror.

  She found that she was pushing at Damon; pushing hard at his chest with both hands. He was letting go of her but when his eyes opened, he looked at her with bewilderment and hurt.

  His leather jacket slid off Bonnie’s shoulders and fell to the ground. Neither Damon nor Bonnie took any notice of it, but when Bonnie felt the icy chill of the wind cut into her, she knew that she was back in reality, with her heart pounding violently.

  Oh, God, God, God! she thought.

  She couldn’t stand for Damon to keep on looking at her the way he was, with open tenderness and hurt in his expression. She said the one word that would explain everything to him.

  “Elena!”

  Damon drew in his breath sharply. For an instant he just looked stunned, and then his whole demeanor changed. His eyes widened; he jerked upright as if he’d been struck a physical blow. He swallowed with a visible effort.

  Bonnie’s vision was blurred and she felt the first hot tears trickle down her cheeks. She was overcome with shame and remorse.

  “Oh,” she half-sobbed, “How could we? How could you?”

  Damon looked rigid now. “How could I? But I’m . . . I’m completely powerless. It was you.” He shook his head in clear disbelief. “You actually influenced me . . .”

  “What are you talking about?” Bonnie’s sobs were full-blown by this time, shaking her whole body. “What did I do? You started talking about how even though I was frightened I tried to fight off certain death with a stick. And then you put your jacket on me—”

  Bonnie glanced down at the jacket but didn’t move to pick it up. However, as she looking in that direction she was jolted by the sight of the two bad dogs still crouching on the ground; their fierce eyes gleaming.

  Damon seemed to see them in the same instant. He made a sound of impatience and then a gesture, as of casting something away.

  “Leave it!” he cried. “Off! Go away! Whatever—just get out of here right now!”

  He spoke as if the bad dogs could understand him. Maybe they did understand simple commands because with flattened ears and down-curled tails, they turned and began to lope away and no invisible wall stopped them. They ran, not along the concrete path, but into the darkness across the grass and toward a stand of tall trees. In seconds, they had melted into the night.

  Bonnie watched, her heart still pounding. She felt frantic and frightened, and she knew that now there was nobody who could rescue her. She had betrayed her friend—her velociraptor sister—and she couldn’t understand how it had happened.

  It wasn’t as if Elena didn’t know that Bonnie had feelings for Damon; Bonnie knew that. But Elena also knew that she could trust both Damon and Bonnie absolutely.

  How could Bonnie have completely forgotten all that? How could she have done such a horrible thing?

  It was so strange, but in those moments that she’d been held by Damon’s eyes, Bonnie had . . . had lost track of the connection between him and Elena. Insane as it sounded, Bonnie had somehow thought of Elena as—taken care of. As if she’d broken up with Damon and was with . . . with . . .

  With who? Bonnie demanded of her own mind. You don’t even have someone to pretend about! You know that she wouldn’t get back together with Matt. And . . . okay, so it feels as if there should be some other guy, someone perfect for her, someone who loves her desperately, but that’s Damon, you idiot!

  You and Meredith swore a blood oath that you would help her get Damon or die doing it. Back in the cemetery in Fell’s Church, you swore it. You promised.

  I am insane, Bonnie thought. I really, truly am. I say bizarre and terrible things I don’t remember; I sleepwalk in the freezing cold; I try to steal my dearest friend’s guy. And then I make up crazy excuses for my behavior.

  Maybe it would have been better if Damon hadn’t come to find me and rescue me. I swear! If those wild dogs had just . . . just come a minute earlier I would never have done such an awful thing. It’s better to be dead than a crazy traitor! Isn’t it? Isn’t it?

  “Now, redbir—now, Bonnie,” Damon said from behind her, and Bonnie realized that she had her hands up over her face again and that she was sobbing quietly.

  Maybe I said something terrible just now, she thought, and she didn’t care because she was insane.

  “Bonnie,” Damon said again. “Come on.” He was wrapping his jacket around her again, trying to tuck her arms into the armholes. Bonnie let him do it. Her arms hung down limply, and the jacket made her want to shudder. The
leather of it smelled like Damon now to her. And the smell made her remember that one moment—a moment that had seemed to last forever—when his lips had touched hers.

  “I’m insane,” she got out, between hitching breaths. “I’m . . . I’m . . . evil . . .”

  “Bonnie!” Now Damon sounded more than shocked. He turned her around and Bonnie was so surprised that she let him do that, too. “Of course you’re not evil. And you’re not insane, either.”

  “How can you say that after—”

  “After what? That was just . . . it wasn’t what you think.”

  Bonnie’s tears stopped out of sheer astonishment. She knew what that had been. That had been a complete, terrible, wonderful meeting of lips and souls. It had been a complete betrayal . . .

  “No, it wasn’t,” Damon said, looking half exasperated and half . . . well, if she didn’t know better, she would think that it was still that tenderness that he had shown. And besides, how could he know what she was thinking?

  “Everything you’re thinking shows in your face,” Damon said, looking as if his patience was being stretched. “But listen to me. Elena knows that I care about you. Of course I do. And she understands.” He fluffed Bonnie’s curls gently, almost as if he were affectionately mussing her hair. “And just for a moment, I was so glad to see you that—well, it was an impulse.” He shrugged. “We all have impulses. This time, maybe it wasn’t such a good call. But it doesn’t change how I feel about Elena. And Elena knows that—although I think it would be better if we both just forgot about it. I think you think the same thing. That we both should just forget it, yes?”

  Bonnie’s breath caught in her throat again, but this time it was a different kind of wonder that had snatched the air from her lungs. It was amazement that Damon could be so casual, so—so brazen! And how dare he tell her what she thought? All she wanted was to run to Elena and bury her head in Elena’s lap and cry and beg Elena’s forgiveness. How could he imagine that she would . . . that she would want to . . . pretend to forget . . .

  Bonnie blinked as Damon seemed to fade in and out of focus. Ohhh . . . She felt dizzy. Really dizzy.

  “Damon?”

  He just watched her. She had to admit . . . he didn’t look brazen. More as if he were in pain. His face looked very pale suddenly.

  Was he taking on the whole burden of what had just happened? That must be it. He was going to tell Elena, because he wanted to help Bonnie, to make it easy for her. That was why he was saying “Forget.” He really meant . . . don’t mention it.

  Suddenly everything that had just happened seemed oddly blurred in Bonnie’s mind, as if it were made out of ice cream that was rapidly melting. It was . . . becoming formless.

  This must be just another kind of insanity. But, honestly, whether Bonnie wanted to forget or not, the memories seemed to be going. That was . . . a little sad, although she knew that thinking so was wicked. Bonnie watched her heavenly little moment shrink away into . . . oh, God, she was tired . . . into nothingness . . .

  With a start, Bonnie lifted her head. She was wearing Damon’s jacket, which smelled strangely like sadness. Damon was holding her in a very gentle and fraternal embrace.

  “. . . feeling better now?” he was saying.

  Bonnie sniffed. Her nose was running. She sniffed harder, not wanting it to run on Damon’s clothes. She’d been crying, for some reason. There were tears on her cheeks, drying chilly in the night air.

  “I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “What—what just happened?”

  “Well, you either grayed out or you started to go to sleep again,” Damon said. “I just chased those bad dogs away.”

  To sleep . . . again! That’s right! Oh, my God, Bonnie thought. I’ve been sleepwalking. And those bad dogs came after me and the big white dog!

  Just as she thought this, she became aware of a low sound—so deep it was almost beyond her range of hearing. It was a growl, and it was coming from her friend, the big white dog who was standing beside her.

  The big white dog was growling at Damon.

  “Oh, good grief,” Bonnie said, suddenly feeling her spirits lift. It was clear that after seeing that the bad dogs were gone, the white dog had suddenly gained the courage to threaten someone.

  For a good boy, he had a fairly vicious growl.

  “Stop it!” Bonnie said sharply. “Damon isn’t trying to hurt me! Honestly!”

  The white dog subsided, but his golden eyes seemed to watch Damon with disapproval. It made Bonnie want to laugh. But she also felt drowsy. Sleepy . . .

  Damon gave her a little shake. “Look, Bonnie, what on earth is going on? You’re running around in the wee hours in your nightie!”

  “I know,” Bonnie blurted. “And this here is the most cowardly dog in the world! He hid behind me—oh, but Damon, thank you for making those bad dogs go away! They were going to attack me and this dog here! And, and, and—”

  “Easy. Easy, redbird. Don’t try to talk now. Your feet must be freezing.” Damon picked her up and turned to walk back down the concrete path toward Soto Hall. Bonnie clung to his neck with one arm and tried to cover her feet with her nightgown with the other. The white dog followed them watchfully.

  Bonnie was vaguely surprised that she wasn’t crying hysterically. Maybe she had been hysterical before she had—grayed out—and Damon was just too nice to mention it. That would be like him. He was always kind to her.

  Weird how far away the attack of the feral dogs seemed now. Weirder, because she couldn’t remember anything after it except seeing them run away.

  “How—how did you know where to find me?” she asked, feeling lost.

  “I didn’t. I’m not the only one out looking for you. I got lucky and found you— just in time.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” Bonnie said sincerely.

  She buried her face in Damon’s shoulder, feeling her shivering slow down. The problem came when they reached the side door of her dormitory.

  “Come on,” Bonnie said, unburying herself. She made clicking noises with her tongue, all the time watching the big white dog. “Good boy, come on in!”

  “Steady on there. Bonnie, you can’t bring a—an animal that size inside. You know that!”

  “But you don’t understand—he helped me—I was so scared, but then he was so scared. He’s my dog, now. He’s a good—”

  “Bonnie, you can’t keep a pet in college. Oh, well, maybe a hamster. But not an enormous white dog.”

  “He’s an Alaskan Husky. I know because my cousin had one. And I want him.” Irrationally, Bonnie felt tears come, leaking out of her eyes and tracing their way down her cheeks. “I’m going to name him and feed him . . . and besides, where’s he going to go if I don’t take care of him?”

  “He can take care of himself. Does he look as if he’s ever missed a meal in his life?”

  Bonnie, gazing at the white dog’s furry, healthy body, had to admit that he didn’t look like a stray.

  “He doesn’t even have a collar—”

  “No, and I doubt he’d be grateful if you put one on him. Bonnie, you know you can’t keep him, don’t you?”

  More tears spilled. Bonnie reached out toward the animal and Damon let her down so that she could put her arms around it.

  “I’m sorry, but you have to go away now,” she whispered. “He says I can’t keep you. Maybe someday I’ll see you again. You’re a good boy.”

  The white dog, heavy and warm and solid in her arms, nosed her curls for a moment and then gave her a giant lick right in the middle of the face.

  “Oh, yuck!” It made Bonnie stop crying and giggle. “Good boy,” she said one last time, and wiped her face on her sleeve.

  She took a deep breath and then allowed Damon to guide her into the dorm in front of him. The door shut behind them and Bonnie’s heart ached when she thought that the white dog might be staring at it in bewilderment, wondering why he wasn’t allowed to follow them.

  She choked up again and had to k
eep blinking away tears as Damon escorted her up to the second floor where she and Meredith shared a room near Elena.

  Time to face the music, she told herself. At least it distracted her from the pain in her heart.

  Damon didn’t go all the way to her room, though. He stopped at Elena’s door and knocked three times, paused, and then knocked three more times.

  The door opened to reveal Elena, mobile in hand, breaking off a sentence with an exclamation of: “Bonnie! Oh, thank God!” And then, while hugging Bonnie fiercely: “It’s all right, Matt; Damon found her. She feels freezing cold, but she looks okay.”

  Behind Elena, Meredith was also on her mobile. “Jim, Damon just brought her inside. She’s fine. Oh, Lord; I’m so sorry to have bothered you, but thank you so much for searching!”

  Caroline was in the armchair, hands clasped over her stomach. “Where were you?” she asked bluntly, eyeing Bonnie’s nightgown.

  By that time Meredith was hugging Bonnie even more fiercely than Elena had.

  “Bonnie, how could you? We’ve been going crazy looking for you!”

  “I sleepwalked,” Bonnie said, embarrassed and defensive. “I woke up at Lerner Hall.”

  “The night after we discover you need constant protection you begin to sleepwalk?” Elena asked, looking from Bonnie to Damon in consternation.

  “Why Lerner Hall?” Meredith asked at almost the same instant.

  “Are you sure you’re not just doing it for attention?” Caroline said, as coolly as if it were an ordinary question.

  “We woke Caroline up accidentally,” Elena explained under her breath. “When Meredith saw that you were gone, Damon asked her to come over to stay with me, while he went out to look for you. All the noise woke her up.” Caroline’s room was between Elena’s and Bonnie and Meredith’s.

  “I wasn’t asleep,” Caroline said in a voice which indicated she had said it more than once.

  “And then Meredith and I called Matt and Jim Bryce and got them out looking for you, too,” Elena said. “We—well, we were terrified, really. We thought you might end up like that girl in Heron.”

  Bonnie, still flushed with embarrassment, felt that she had a lot of explaining to do. She did her best to convey everything that had happened—and then had to backtrack when a series of knocks came at the door and a blinking, rumpled Matt was allowed in. When she got to the part about the bad dogs coming toward her, however, she saw Elena and Meredith and Damon exchanging glances like adults listening to a child tell about a dream.