Chloe shook her head. "Matt . . ." she began.
"It was a mistake," Matt told her firmly. "Tristan's going to be all right. So will you."
Chloe shook her head again, harder this time, the ringlets Matt had always found so adorable flying around her head. "I'm not," she said miserably. "I'm not going to be all right. I love you, Matt, I do." Her voice broke in a sob, and then she took a deep breath and began again. "I love you, but I can't live like this. Stefan was right; I'm not really living at all now. I'm not strong enough. It's not getting better for me."
"You are strong enough," Matt argued. "I'll help you." Dawn was breaking outside, and he could see the ash and blood streaked on Chloe's tear-blotched skin now, the deep circles beneath her eyes.
"I'm so glad I got to stay with you for a while," she said. "You took such good care of me." She leaned forward, across Tristan's unconscious body, and kissed him. Her lips were soft and tasted of copper and salt. Her hand found his, and she pressed something small and hard into his palm.
Pulling back from the kiss at last, she said, her voice thin, "I hope someday you'll find someone who deserves you, Matt," and got to her feet.
"Don't . . ." Matt said, panicking, and reached out for her. "I need you, Chloe."
Chloe looked down at him, her face calm and sure now. She even smiled a little. "This is the right thing," she told him.
In a few steps, she'd crossed the barn and was slipping out through the gap between the doors. The sunrise was well underway now, and her body was dark against the pink-and-golden light.
Then there was a burst of fire, and Chloe crumpled into a heap of ash.
Matt looked down at the small hard object she had pressed into his palm. It was a little pin in the shape of a V, made of blue stone. He had one, too: the Vitale badge Ethan had given all of them, back when he and Chloe and the other pledges were all human, all innocent. The lapis lazuli charm that defended Chloe from the daylight.
He closed his fist tightly around it, ignoring the pain as its sharp edges pressed into his palm, and gave a dry, heaving sob.
He would have to get up in a minute. Tristan needed his help. But for a moment, Matt bent his head and let the tears come.
Chapter 39
Stefan and Elena couldn't stop touching each other. Little touches, hands entwining, a light kiss, or a stroke to the cheek.
"You're alive," Stefan said to her, his eyes wide. "I thought I'd lost you."
"Never," said Elena, reaching up from her bed to tug him closer until he was sitting on the bed, his side against hers. "I'm not going anywhere without you."
Klaus was dead. And Elena had survived. The sheer amazement of it had her buzzing with joy.
But Stefan stroked her hair back from her face, and the look in his eyes - loving, but somehow still laced with concern - made her effervescence flatten.
"What is it?" she asked, suddenly apprehensive.
Stefan shook his head. "The task isn't gone," he said. "The Guardians still might take you away."
Elena had been avoiding that thought with everything she had, but at Stefan's words, she stilled and let the knowledge flood over her: the Guardians still expected her to kill Damon. And the punishment for not doing so would be leaving Earth. Losing Stefan.
"I will love you whatever happens," Stefan said. His brows were drawn tight, and Elena knew the terrors that warred in him: the fear of losing Elena after all, and the fear of losing Damon. "Whatever you decide, Elena, I trust you." He raised his head, and his gaze was steady and true, his eyes shining.
Elena reached up and ran her fingers over Stefan's forehead, trying to erase the lines of his frown. "I think . . ." she said slowly, "I think I can see a way that we can save both me and Damon. I hope."
Just then, Andres tapped gently on the half-open door to Elena's room and she greeted him with a smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked seriously. "I can come back later if you're resting."
"No, don't," she said, patting the chair by her bedside. "I want you to fill me in on everything that's going on."
"If you want to talk Guardian business, I could leave you two here, maybe get Elena something to eat," Stefan said. "I didn't want to leave her alone."
Stefan kissed Elena once more and she tried to pour all the love and reassurance she felt into their embrace. When he finally pulled back, the lines of his face were softer, more relaxed. Whatever Elena was planning, his gaze assured her, he would be with her. As he left, Andres took the chair by her bed. "Stefan's been looking after you?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Elena said, stretching luxuriously, and trying to turn off her serious thoughts for a moment. She'd almost died - she had the right to be babied and indulged for one day, surely. "He tried to make me something called a hot milk posset earlier today. Supposedly, I am at a delicate stage in my recovery." She started to laugh, but the laugh abruptly cut off when she caught the look in Andres's eyes. "What's the matter?" she said in a different, sharper tone, sitting up. "What's happened?"
Andres waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing has happened," he said. "Only, perhaps we should talk after you've had more time to recover. What I have to say is not bad news, I don't think, but it is . . ." He hesitated. "Surprising," he concluded at last.
"Now you have to tell me," Elena said. "Or I'll worry myself into a coma." Seeing the flicker of concern on Andres's face, she hurriedly added: "I'm joking."