"How about if I go into a trance and try to reach her, and then, once I make contact, try to find you and draw you in? Do you think that would work?"
"It might, if I'm reaching for you too," he said, withdrawing that intensity from her and focusing it on the candle. "I can touch your mind... when you're ready, I'll feel it."
"Right." The candle was white, its wax sides smooth and shining. The flame drew itself up and then fell back. Bonnie stared until she became lost in it, until the rest of the room blacked out around her. There was only the flame, herself and the flame. She was going into the flame.
Unbearable brightness surrounded her. Then she passed through it into the dark.
The funeral home was cold. Bonnie glanced around uneasily, wondering how she had gotten here, trying to gather her thoughts. She was all alone, and for some reason that bothered her. Wasn't somebody else supposed to be here too? She was looking for someone.
Step by step, as if something were pulling her, Bonnie approached the casket. She didn't want to look in. She had to. There was something in that coffin waiting for her.
The whole room was suffused with the soft white light of the candles. It was like floating in an island of radiance. But she didn't want to look...
Moving as if in slow motion, she reached the coffin, stared at the white satin lining inside. It was empty.
Bonnie closed it and leaned against it, sighing.
Then she caught motion in her peripheral vision and whirled.
It was Elena.
"Oh, God, you scared me," Bonnie said.
"I thought I told you not to come here," Elena answered.
This time her hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders and down her back, the pale golden white of a flame. She was wearing a thin white dress that glowed softly in the candlelight. She looked like a candle herself, luminous, radiant. Her feet were bare.
"I came here to..." Bonnie floundered, some concept teasing around the edges of her mind. This was her dream, her trance. She had to remember. "I came here to let you see Stefan," she said.
Elena's eyes widened, her lips parting. Bonnie recognized the look of yearning, of almost irresistible longing. Not fifteen minutes ago she'd seen it on Stefan's face.
"Oh," Elena whispered. She swallowed, her eyes clouding. "Oh, Bonnie... but I can't."
"Why not?"
Tears were shining in Elena's eyes now, and her lips were trembling. "What if things start to change? What if he comes, and..." She put a hand to her mouth and Bonnie remembered the last dream, with teeth falling like rain. Bonnie met Elena's eyes with understanding horror.
"Don't you see? I couldn't stand it if something like that happened," Elena whispered. "If he saw me like that... And I can't control things here; I'm not strong enough. Bonnie, please don't let him through. Tell him how sorry I am. Tell him-" She shut her eyes, tears spilling.
"Stefan, no! Elena says-" It didn't matter. His mind was stronger than hers, and the instant she'd made contact he had taken over. He'd sensed the gist of her conversation with Elena, but he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Helplessly, Bonnie felt herself being overridden, felt his mind come closer, closer to the circle of light formed by the candelabras. She felt his presence there, felt it taking shape. She turned and saw him, dark hair, tense face, green eyes fierce as a falcon's. And then, knowing there was nothing more she could do, she stepped back to allow them to be alone.
Chapter Twelve
Stefan heard a voice whisper, soft with pain, "Oh, no."
A voice that he'd never thought to hear again, that he would never forget. Ripples of chills poured over his skin, and he could feel a shaking start inside him. He turned toward the voice, his attention fixing instantly, his mind almost shutting down because it couldn't cope with so many sudden driving emotions at once.
His eyes were blurred and could only discern a wash of radiance like a thousand candles. But it didn't matter. He could feel her there. The same presence he had sensed the very first day he'd come to Fell's Church, a golden white light that shone into his consciousness. Full of cool beauty and searing passion and vibrant life. Demanding that he move toward it, that he forget everything else.
Elena. It was really Elena.
Her presence pervaded him, filling him to his fingertips. All his hungry senses were fixed on that wash of luminance, searching for her. Needing her.
Then she stepped out.
She moved slowly, hesitantly. As if she could barely make herself do it. Stefan was caught in the same paralysis.
Elena.
He saw her every feature as if for the first time. The pale gold hair floating about her face and shoulders like a halo. The fair, flawless skin. The slender, supple body just now canted away from him, one hand raised in protest.
"Stefan," the whisper came, and it was her voice. Her voice saying his name. But there was such pain in it that he wanted to run to her, hold her, promise her that everything would be all right. "Stefan, please... I can't..."
He could see her eyes now. The dark blue of lapis lazuli, flecked in this light with gold. Wide with pain and wet with unshed tears. It shredded his guts.
"You don't want to see me?" His voice was dry as dust.
"I don't want you to see me. Oh, Stefan, he can make anything happen. And he'll find us. He'll come here..."
Relief and aching joy flooded through Stefan. He could scarcely concentrate on her words, and it didn't matter. The way she said his name was enough. That "Oh, Stefan" told him everything he cared about.
He moved toward her quietly, his own hand coming up to reach for hers. He saw the protesting shake of her head, saw that her lips were parted with her quickening breath. Up close, her skin had an inner glow, like a flame shining through translucent candle wax. Droplets of wetness were caught on her eyelashes like diamonds.