So much to hear, to smell, to see, to feel. And most of all, Elena. Her hand was soft and strong in his, and she smiled at him, radiating love like a vibrant, glowing sun. His mind brushed against hers, and he could feel her welcoming him home, the familiarity and warmth of her.
He stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk and kissed her. All the sensations and impressions that had been flooding through him narrowed down into one thing: Elena's lips, soft against his. Elena's warm breath. He sent her thoughts of love, and of forever, and she sent them back to him.
When they broke apart, they clung to each other for a moment breathlessly. Then Elena smiled and pushed her hair back behind her ears. "You're happy to be home," she said.
Stefan took her hands in his. "Now that Celine is dead, there can't be too many Old Ones left," he said. "When we find them, we can kill them, and then we'll be able to do anything we want, go anywhere we want."
Elena frowned, her eyes puzzled. "We can do anything we want now, Stefan," she said. "We don't have to wait and be sure all the Old Ones are dead. We can't wait for that."
Twining his fingers with Elena's, Stefan smiled down into her eyes. "Remember how, when you drank the water from the Fountain of Eternal Youth and Life, you told me you finally knew what our future would look like?" he asked. "I've always known-I've known for so long that you were my future, that you were the only thing I needed."
Elena's eyes shone. "I know," she said. "Stefan, I want that, too. I want forever." Then her mouth lifted into a mischievous grin. "But we've got forever, don't we?" She moved closer to him still, her soft hair brushing his cheek, her lips only millimeters from his, teasingly light. "I want to enjoy right now."
Stefan was lowering his head to meet her lips once more when someone suddenly lurched against them. Elena's breath puffed out in a soft huff of surprise, and she stumbled back a little, away from Stefan.
Immediately tense, Stefan felt himself fall into a fighting stance, his hands drawn up in fists. It took him a moment to realize there was nothing sinister here, no one he needed to defend Elena from. Just a group of people coming out of a bar, accidentally brushing against them. He shook off his aggression; he'd spent too long on the hunt lately.
"Sorry, sorry," one of the guys said, holding up his hands apologetically. He smiled at them. "My fault. Are you okay?"
The stranger was tall, taller than Stefan, with sharp cheekbones, longish sand-colored hair, and curiously yellowish-green eyes, glowing like a cat's, or a coyote's. He wasn't a vampire, though, Stefan sensed with a quick brush of Power-just another human out for an evening with his friends. Elena murmured that everything was fine, no harm done.
"It was our fault," Stefan said courteously, and moved aside. But the stranger didn't walk on right away. He was looking at Elena. Their eyes caught for a moment, Elena's face creasing into a tiny frown as her clear blue gaze met the stranger's yellowish-green one-and then the moment was over. Stefan shook off the strange feeling their locked gazes had given him. Elena was beautiful; he should be used to people looking at her. With another murmured apology, the stranger moved on down the street, his friends reforming into a group around him.
Elena turned her attention back to Stefan, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him back down for another kiss. "Where were we?" she said, laughing up at him. "Right here? Right now?"
Chapter 5
"If your little pet is going to drag us all over the countryside, you're taking me out for a drink later," Damon told Katherine in an undertone, flashing a false, bright smile as he climbed the winding tower stairs.
"Oh, don't be a grouch, Damon," Katherine said sweetly. "You have to admit it's lovely here."
"I don't have to admit anything," Damon said, but he felt the edges of his mouth tugging up in a more honest smile.
For days, Roberto had been begging to explore the white medieval tower they could see from the windows of their palazzo, in the rolling green hills outside of town. Tonight, Katherine had finally agreed to take him, like an indulgent parent giving in to a petulant child. For lack of any better options, Damon had consented to come, too.
Roberto ran eagerly ahead of them; Damon could hear his feet clattering on the stairs above their heads. The top of the first stairway opened into a large square room with a worn wooden floor, empty except for a huge fireplace at one end, but by the time Damon and Katherine stepped inside, Roberto was already climbing the next set of stairs.
"Avanti!" He called back in Italian, urging them on.
"Modern Italian doesn't sound right to me." Damon sighed, a little wistfully. "Back in my homeland, and the children here speak garbled trash."
"Things change," Katherine said with a shrug. "Like we said last night, even we do. I was born in the Hapsburg Empire, and it doesn't even exist anymore. You and I, we just adapt and keep going." She slid him a sidelong look as they entered the next stairway, and her voice dripped with false sympathy. "Are you having a midlife crisis, Damon? Do you want me to hold your hand?"
Damon sneered halfheartedly at her. "As if I actually care about the decline of the Italian language," he said. "It's only that ... this was home once, and now it's just another place." What was curious, and a little alarming, he admitted to himself, was that the thought of home now brought to mind a small town in Virginia and the faces of a bunch of American children. Principally, of course, a face much like the one laughing back at him as Katherine sprang ahead up the stairway.