by L. J. Smith
“Blood?” Matt asked. He could smell the coppery scent of blood throughout the apartment, and it was making him feel sick.
Zander shot him a wry look. “Something else,” he said, prowling across the living room to the kitchen, sniffing. “Over here, maybe,” he said, sticking his head through the kitchen doorway.
“I don’t smell it,” Stefan said, following him. He said it mildly, though: They all knew that Zander’s sense of smell was stronger than anyone’s, even Stefan’s.
In the doorway between the kitchen and bedroom, Zander bent down and scraped his nails across the floor, then straightened and brushed something into his palm. “Huh,” he said. Matt craned forward to see what looked like plain old dirt in Zander’s hand.
“What is it?” he asked.
Zander looked up, then came back into the living room, his hand extended. “It smells like apples,” he said.
“There’s that apple orchard to the west of town,” Matt said thoughtfully. “Have you guys been there lately?” Stefan and Elena shook their heads.
“Could it be a clue?” Zander said, looking hopeful.
Jack’s eyes widened, then he grinned and slapped Zander on the back. “Maybe what we needed was a werewolf’s nose,” he said. “Looks like we’re going apple-picking tomorrow.”
Meredith flipped her pillow over to find its cooler side, lay down again, and squeezed her eyes shut. Sleep, she told herself firmly. She had so much to do tomorrow, so much to do every day. She couldn’t afford not to be rested.
But when she closed her eyes, all she saw was the cat’s little body, bloody and torn. It was a message, she knew: Solomon wanted them to know it could have been any of them. Would be one of them, all of them, soon.
They were determined to find him, but so far Jack was right. Solomon seemed to be invisible.
They’d gone to the apple orchard and searched the fields and woods around it, hoping that Solomon’s hideout would be nearby. Nothing. A heavy ominous feeling hung over all of them like a dark cloud. He was coming, and it would be better to hunt him and fight him on their own terms rather than wait for his attack.
Meredith flipped her pillow again and turned over, looking for a more comfortable position. Alaric was snoring softly next to her, sleeping like a log. Closing her eyes again, she saw white on red: the white cat ripped apart on the blood-drenched bed.
Then the image morphed into her friend Samantha, torn apart by vampires back in college, blood sprayed across her bed, and Meredith took a quick breath, one that sounded more like a sob to her own ears. Then it was her brother, Cristian, his gray eyes half-open, Meredith’s own stave through his heart.
Every night recently it had been like this, images of death keeping Meredith awake until exhaustion finally caught up with her. So much death.
Pushing the memories away, she tried to make herself relax, timing her breathing to Alaric’s: slow, long, steady breaths. She was so tired.
Time passed. After a while, she realized with a start that she was somewhere new. It was chilly, and a glaring white light hung above her, hurting her eyes. She tried to turn her face away.
She couldn’t move.
Tensing her whole body, she took a deep breath and tried again. She still couldn’t move. It felt like a tracery of thin wires was fitted over her body, holding her in place. Trying not to panic, Meredith strained against it, making an effort to lift one leg and then the other, her mouth dry with fear. Paralyzed.
Her heart thumped in her chest. She couldn’t even turn her head. Meredith could hear herself panting, the sound harsh in the silence. Losing her careful control for a moment, she struggled frantically, the tendons in her neck going tight as she tried to thrash against the pillow. She wanted to hit out with her arms, kick, jump up and fight, or run away. But finally she stopped. She still couldn’t move.
Calm down, she told herself sternly. Figure out where you are.
The light was blinding, making her eyes sting and water. But if she blinked away the tears, she could make out white walls, flat and sterile looking. A harsh antiseptic smell. Was she in a hospital?
Meredith was stretched out flat on some kind of bed or table, legs together, arms at her sides. There was something made of shiny silver metal just to the left of her head. She tried to examine it through the corner of her eyes. A sink maybe, or some kind of medical equipment.
Something moved at the edge of her field of vision, and she flinched backward. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t good.
It was watching her.
Something in Meredith snapped, and she began to thrash again, straining ineffectively against the wires holding her immobilized. She tried to shut her eyes against the glare and found that they, too, were held open now. Her throat felt rough and raw, and a harsh, shrill sound went on and on, hurting her ears.
It was a while before she realized that she was the one screaming.
Meredith’s eyes snapped open onto darkness. She gasped and panted, trying to calm her racing heart. She was in her own bed. Just a dream.
She’d kicked off the covers. Alaric was stirring and grumbling next to her. “S’matter?” he asked groggily. “You all right?”
“Bad dream,” Meredith said, wiping roughly at her eyes. Hunters did not cry. “I couldn’t move,” she told him. “Something terrible was about to happen to me. I was …” She paused to gather her thoughts, and Alaric wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. “Just a dream.” He sighed, already falling back asleep. Meredith bit back more explanations of exactly how terrible the dream had been, how shaken and uncertain she still felt. Alaric was right; it was only a dream.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread coursing through her. There was only one person who might know what it meant, who took dreams as seriously as she did. I wish Bonnie were here, she thought longingly.
I wish I were home, Bonnie thought longingly. This was nothing at all like she’d pictured.
She’d thought a witchy retreat would be all about getting in touch with nature. Hadn’t Alysia said that they would be channeling natural elements? Bonnie had pictured a bunch of earthy, hippie types, chanting and waving crystals in between learning about herbs and spells.
It wasn’t anything like that. Instead, Bonnie found herself in an elegant skyscraper apartment far above the streets of Chicago. Looking out the floor-to-ceiling stretch of windows beside her, she could see a steady stream of traffic below, the cars tiny and toylike. There were about twenty people scattered in groups around the big room, all beautifully dressed, glasses in hand. Near her, a sharp-featured blonde in an ice-blue cocktail dress tipped her head back and laughed shrilly. It was an expensive cocktail party in a big city, and Bonnie felt frumpy and out of place.
I am strong, she told herself. I am magic. But she could feel a prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. This room of strangers felt almost like the glamorous high society she’d mingled with in the Dark Dimension, a place Bonnie had tried to shut away in the back of her mind. These people could easily be vampires and demons. Why not? What proof did she have, after all, that they weren’t? There was no Lady Ulma here to dress Bonnie in finery so that she could outshine them all, and no Damon to save her if they trapped her. Bonnie shoved her fists deep into the pockets of her pants and hunched her shoulders.
The only thing that indicated this place might be more than just an expensive apartment was the mosaic floor, the small tiles underfoot making up a design of intertwining plants, with dark green and rich gold and patches of bright color. Chamomile, she identified automatically, good for strength and healing. Valerian, to guard against evil. Daisies for happiness.
The pattern of leaves and vines and blossoms went all the way around the edges of the room. Further in were runes and other symbols. All the ones she could identify were positive, signs of healing and protection. The center of the mosaic was filled by a brilliant golden sun.
So, probably good witches, Bonnie thought hopefully. Not vampires and demons.
Her phone buzzed in her bag, and Bonnie automatically fished it out. There was a text from Zander: Remember you’ve saved the world before. You rock. Have fun. I <3 u. xox
So sweet, Bonnie thought. He was thinking of her, had known she might be feeling nervous. She pictured Zander’s eyes, the warm blue of a Caribbean sea, looking at her with simple love. Zander believed in her. And she should, too.
Bonnie straightened her shoulders and dropped the phone back in her bag before striding confidently into the middle of the room. I’ve saved the world before. I rock.
Alysia came over to meet her. In a little black dress, her wild curls tamed in a loose bun, she was more pulled together than she’d been at Mrs. Flowers’s. But her wide, freckly smile was the same.
“Bonnie!” she exclaimed, handing her a glass of wine. “Let me introduce you to the people you’ll be working with over the next few weeks.” She led her to a small group centered around a leather sofa. The floor beneath them, Bonnie noted, had the Nordic rune Fehu. The slanty F represented abundance, success, and energy. I guess Mrs. Flowers making me memorize all those runes might come in handy after all, she thought.
There were three other people in what was going to be her group. On the couch was a thin African American man a few years older than Bonnie whom Alysia introduced as Rick, and a gray-haired older woman named Marilise. Poppy, a tall, willowy girl whose designer clothes screamed “society diva” to Bonnie, hovered beside them.
After introducing them all, Alysia left to talk to another group, and an awkward silence stretched between them. Bonnie fiddled with the glass in her hand, putting it down on a tiny table at one end of the couch, then picking it up again.
“So,” Rick offered at last with a thin smile, “is this what you guys were expecting?”
Marilise shook her head. “I’m used to pulling energy out of the elements when I work,” she said. “I like to have my feet planted firmly on the ground and growing things all around me. I don’t know how I’m going to manage.”
Poppy was nodding eagerly. “I totally agree,” she said. “I talked to Alysia about it, asked her why they brought us all to the middle of Chicago. She said part of the challenge is connecting with natural elements anywhere, even in places that are the farthest from nature. It’s supposed to make us stronger,” she finished with an awkward little laugh.
They’re all just as nervous as I am, Bonnie realized, and that fact warmed her. She smiled at Poppy and the girl grinned back at her, tucking a tiny wisp of hair back into place.
“I’ve never really thought of the things I can do as connecting with the natural elements,” Bonnie said thoughtfully, “but nature’s all around us, isn’t it? Even here. We’ve got the sun and the wind, and the earth’s still there, under all that concrete.” They were all nodding, and Bonnie stood up straighter under their attention. “I use a lot of herbs,” she told them, “and those are a bit of the natural world you can take anywhere.”
Looking at their interested faces, Bonnie realized that here were people who wanted to learn what she had to teach them, who could probably teach her things she didn’t know. Zander was right, she thought. She smiled tentatively around at the group, and they smiled back at her. Right now, this is where I need to be.
“Is that a gun?” Elena asked, knowing it was a stupid question. They were at the apple orchard on the edge of town, on the roof of the building that housed the cider press, and Jack was loading a handgun with wooden bullets, quickly and competently. What Elena meant was, why do you have a gun?
“Sure,” Jack said easily. Catching Elena’s expression, he laughed. “Look, I know that bullets won’t stop a vampire, especially not an Old One. But wooden bullets might slow him down a little at a distance while we’re getting ready to fight.”
“Good idea,” Stefan said thoughtfully, resting a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “What else do you use?”
“Take a look,” Jack said, nodding toward a couple of large duffle bags in the corner. Meredith and Zander were already picking carefully through them, examining weapons, while Alaric watched from a few feet away.
“Is this a flamethrower?” Meredith asked, her gray eyes bright with excitement. “Awesome!”
The roof of the cider press building was shady and cool. “We haven’t seen a sign of Solomon,” Jack had told them when his team welcomed them up. “But we’re keeping an eye on things. This is a good place to train, too. Nothing overlooks us, plenty of room, and there aren’t many people here this time of year. Easy to avoid being seen.”
It should have been a peaceful place, the tiny green apples dangling from the trees’ branches, no sound but the rustling of the leaves. But shadows lurked beneath the trees, and Elena shuddered. What did this sun-dappled place have to do with an ancient vampire?
She watched, slightly wary, as Darlene handed Meredith something that looked like a weed sprayer attached to a couple of cylinders and Meredith shot a ball of flame across the roof.
“Careful there,” Darlene warned, but Meredith laughed.
“That’s such a good idea,” she said. “Take the fire right to the vampire. How did you manage to get that?”
“We’ve got connections,” Jack said with a wink. Then he sobered. “Seriously, though, there’s nothing more important than eliminating vampires. Vampires who are a threat to humanity, of course,” he added quickly, looking at Stefan.
“You want to see some of the fighting moves we’ve worked out?” Trinity offered eagerly. At Meredith’s nod, Trinity picked up a stave from the bag and took a tae kwon do stance, poised with one foot in front of the other, her weight carefully balanced. “Attack me,” she said, smiling broadly. “But not with the flamethrower, please.”
Meredith flashed her a smile in response, and slipped out her own stave. Before Trinity could brace herself, Meredith swept the stave at her legs, and Trinity had to leap to avoid the blow. A moment later, Roy, the shorter of the two brothers, joined in, swinging a heavy blade at Meredith’s arms.
“Practice sword; it’s blunt,” Jack muttered in an aside to Elena.
Stefan joined the fight, moving so quickly and gracefully that he seemed like a blur, using his superior strength to pull Trinity off balance as his teeth just grazed her throat. But then Alex, the other dark-haired brother, jumped in. The three hunters managed to separate Meredith and Stefan, blocking them whenever either got close to one of their opponents. Alex fell to one knee as Meredith swung her stave at his head, and Trinity immediately stepped on his back, launching herself into the air and knocking Meredith to the ground.
The three hunters were fighting smoothly as a unit, keeping Meredith and Stefan off balance. It reminded Elena of how the Pack fought, and she glanced at Zander. He was watching with a smile of simple enjoyment, his eyes sharp.
“Nice,” Meredith said, waving away the hand Trinity extended to her and climbing to her feet.
“We know you two fight well together,” Jack said, nodding to Stefan. “You could never have defeated Old Ones if you didn’t. But we hunters have our own techniques, based on centuries of experience fighting in groups. We can teach you, if you want.”
He and Darlene lined up across from Meredith and Stefan, beginning to demonstrate stances and holds. Trinity wandered over to Elena.
“Want to spar?” she offered, grinning easily and pushing her long brown hair out of her eyes.
Elena felt herself flush. “Thanks,” she said, “but I’m not a fighter.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Trinity argued. “You’re a Principal, aren’t you? Come on. Want me to show you some moves?”
Elena reconsidered. Since she’d met Stefan, she’d found herself fighting against all kinds of enemies—supernatural and otherwise—and there was always the chance that one day her Guardian Powers and her friends wouldn’t be enough to save her in a battle. Maybe it was time she learned to defend he
rself better. Plus there was the edge of a challenge in Trinity’s cheerful gaze.
“You’re on,” Elena said. “How do we start?”
Trinity’s smile spread. “Okay, slide your feet shoulder-width apart, and balance your weight equally between them. Keep your arms loose with your fists just in front of your stomach.” She glanced down and nudged Elena’s feet a little closer together with her own sneakered foot. “Good,” she said. “Now, just react as I move at you.”
She punched straight at Elena’s chest, moving in half time, and Elena lifted her arm automatically to block the blow. “Good,” Trinity said again, shifting quickly to kick at Elena. She made contact this time, her foot gently hitting the side of Elena’s thigh.
Elena swung around and kicked back at her automatically. Trinity dodged out of the way, huffing a small surprised laugh. “Awesome,” she said. “Powerful and amazing, right? Try again, but this time, slide your right foot a bit forward and point your left foot to the side. That way, you can shift your weight back better when you kick and get more momentum going.”
Elena changed her foot position and was eyeing Trinity carefully, getting ready to kick again, when Zander stiffened and held up a hand for silence. “There’s someone coming. More than one person,” he said. “Apple smell’s stronger.”
Stefan heard them, too; Elena could tell. He and Zander stepped to either side of the roof entrance, ready.
“Come on,” Trinity whispered, as she and the other human hunters arranged themselves in a curving line to meet whatever came through the door. Elena and Alaric, the weakest fighters, dropped back behind the line. Alaric was muttering a quick charm, and Elena closed her eyes for a moment, searching for evil. She couldn’t activate her Guardian Powers without an immediate threat. At least, not yet.
But, try as she might, she couldn’t sense anything unusual. Then the roof door burst open and three figures charged through.