"Remember?" Katherine said softly beside him. They had danced this together, Damon couldn't forget, in the great hall of his father's house, the night that he had come home from university in disgrace and first laid eyes on her. He took control of another cheerleader, moved her into the still-familiar steps of the male partner in the dance. Step forward on the ball of one foot, step forward on the other, incline your body toward your partner, feet together, hand to the side, and the lady follows you. He could almost hear the music, coming down the centuries.
The crowd around them stirred uneasily, their attention distracted from the players on the field. The formality of the dance and the blank distance on the faces of the cheerleaders were confusing them. A vague sense of something not quite right permeated the stadium.
Letting out another low, silvery laugh, Katherine kept the beat with her hand as all the cheerleaders paired off, moving in time, the elegance of their steps at odds with their bright, short costumes. On the field, the football players played on, oblivious.
Katherine smiled at Damon, her eyes gleaming with what looked almost like affection. "We could have fun together, you know," she said. "You don't have to hunt alone."
Damon considered this. He didn't trust her; he'd have to be a fool to trust her after all that Katherine had done. But, still . . . "Perhaps it won't be so bad having you back after all," he told her. "Perhaps."
Chapter 31
Cell phone clamped to her ear, Elena hit the button to replay the message. James couldn't possibly have said what she'd thought she'd heard.
But the message was exactly the same. "Elena, my dear," James said, a thread of excitement running through his voice. "I think I've got it. I think there's a way we can kill Klaus." He paused, as if he was thinking hard, and when he spoke again, his voice was more cautious. "We have to plan carefully, though. Come to my house as soon as you get this and we'll talk. This method . . . it'll take some preparation." The message ended, and Elena frowned at her phone in exasperation. Honestly, it was just like James to be cryptic rather than leave some useful information.
But, if he really had found something . . . A bubble of joyous excitement rose in Elena's chest. The knowledge that Klaus was out there, and that her Guardian Powers were focused on Damon instead, had been like a heavy weight on her shoulders. She didn't know when, but she had the constant nagging feeling that disaster could come at any moment. If James had a new idea, perhaps there would be an end in sight.
As she hurried across the sun-drenched campus toward James's house, Elena quickly texted Stefan to meet her there. He'd taken command of their anti-Klaus army, making the decisions and organizing the patrols while she tried to expand her Guardian Powers, and she wanted him there if James had found a solution.
She hadn't heard back from Stefan yet when she reached James's front door. He was probably in class; he'd told her that his philosophy seminar had started up again, now that it had been more than a week since the body of a student had appeared on campus. Oh, well, they could fill him in as soon as he arrived.
Elena rang the doorbell and waited impatiently. After a minute, she tried again, then knocked on the door. No one came. Andres, she remembered, had planned to spend the afternoon at the library, and then go out to dinner.
James had probably had a quick errand. Pulling out her phone again, Elena dialed his number. It rang, and rang again. Elena cocked her head. She was pretty sure she could hear James's ringtone coming from inside the house.
So he had gone out and forgotten his phone, Elena thought nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. That didn't mean anything was wrong.
Should she just sit on the porch and wait for James? Stefan would probably be here soon, too. She looked at her watch. It was five o'clock. She was pretty sure Stefan's class let out around five thirty. It would be dark soon, though. She didn't really want to wait here alone after dark. Not with Klaus's army out there somewhere.
And what if something was wrong? Why would James have left, when he'd asked Elena to come over? If he was in there, and he wasn't answering . . . Elena's heart was pounding hard. She tried to look in the window over the porch, but the shades were drawn and she only saw her own worried reflection.
Making up her mind, Elena reached out and twisted the doorknob. It turned easily in her hand, and the door opened. Elena stepped inside. It wasn't the way she had been raised - Aunt Judith would be horrified to know Elena was walking into someone's house uninvited - but she was sure James would understand.
Elena had already closed the door behind her when she noticed the streak of blood. It was wide and still wet, a long stripe of blood just at hand-level, as if someone with bloody hands had strode down the hall, carelessly wiping the blood on the walls as he went.
Elena froze, and then, her mind blank, walked forward. Something in her was screaming stop stop, but her feet just kept going as if they weren't even under her control anymore, down the hall and into the usually neat and cheerful kitchen.
The kitchen was still flooded with sunlight through its western-facing windows. The copper pots hanging from the ceiling reflected the light back, illuminating all the corners.
And everywhere, on all the shining surfaces, were great dark splashes of blood.
James's body was slumped over the kitchen table. Elena knew at a glance that he was dead. He must be dead - no one could live with their insides spilled across the floor like that - but she went to him anyway. She still felt numb, but she realized she had clapped one hand over her own mouth, holding back the whimpering noise that wanted to come out. She made an effort and pulled the hand away from her mouth, swallowed hard. Oh, God.