The two girls with their arms around each other, standing in a circle of officials, those two she remembered though. The little red-haired one who was crying was Bonnie. The taller one with the sweep of dark hair, Meredith.
"But she's not in the water," Bonnie was saying to a man in a uniform. Her voice trembled on the edge of hysteria. "We saw Stefan get her out. I've told you and told you."
"And you left him here with her?"
"We had to. The storm was getting worse, and there was something coming-" "Never mind that," Meredith broke in. She sounded only slightly calmer than Bonnie. "Stefan said that if he-had to leave her, he'd leave her lying under the willow trees."
"And just where is Stefan now?" another uniformed man asked.
"We don't know. We went back to get help. He probably followed us. But as for what happened to-to Elena..." Bonnie turned back and buried her face in Meredith's shoulder.
They're upset about me, Elena realized. How silly of them. I can clear that up, anyway. She started forward into the light, but Damon pulled her back. She looked at him, wounded.
"Not like that. Pick the ones you want, and we'll draw them out," he said.
"Want for what?"
"For feeding, Elena. You're a hunter now. Those are your prey."
Elena pushed her tongue against a canine tooth doubtfully. Nothing out there looked like food to her. Still, because Damon said so, she was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Whichever you think," she said obligingly.
Damon tilted his head back, eyes narrowed, scanning the scene like an expert evaluating a famous painting. "Well, how about a couple of nice paramedics?"
Damon tilted his head back, eyes narrowed, scanning the scene like an expert evaluating a famous painting. "Well, how about a couple of nice paramedics?"
Damon barely glanced over his shoulder at Stefan. "Why not?"
"Because there've been enough attacks. She may need human blood, but she doesn't have to hunt for it." Stefan's face was shut and hostile, but there was an air of grim determination about him.
"There's another way?" Damon asked ironically.
"You know there is. Find someone who's willing-or who can be influenced to be willing. Someone who would do it for Elena and who is strong enough to deal with this, mentally."
"And I suppose you know where we can find such a paragon of virtue?"
"Bring her to the school. I'll meet you there," Stefan said, and disappeared.
They left the activity still bustling, lights flashing, people milling. As they went, Elena noticed a strange thing. In the middle of the river, illuminated by the spotlights, was an automobile. It was completely submerged except for the front fender, which stuck out of the water.
What a stupid place to park a car, she thought, and followed Damon back into the woods.
Stefan was beginning to feel again.
It hurt. He'd thought he was through with hurting, through with feeling anything. When he'd pulled Elena's lifeless body out of the dark water, he'd thought that nothing could ever hurt again because nothing could match that moment.
He'd been wrong.
He stopped and stood with his good hand braced against a tree, head down, breathing deeply. When the red mists cleared and he could see again, he went on, but the burning ache in his chest continued undiminished. Stop thinking about her, he told himself, knowing that it was useless.
But she wasn't truly dead. Didn't that count for something? He'd thought he would never hear her voice again, never feel her touch...
And now, when she touched him, she wanted to kill him.
He stopped again, doubling over, afraid he was going to be sick.
Seeing her like this was worse torture than seeing her lying cold and dead. Maybe that was why Damon had let him live. Maybe this was Damon's revenge.
And maybe Stefan should just do what he'd planned to do after killing Damon. Wait until dawn and take off the silver ring that protected him from sunlight. Stand bathing in the fiery embrace of those rays until they burned the flesh from his bones
and stopped the pain once and for all.
Stefan detoured toward the boardinghouse. He needed to clean up before he could let humans see him. In his room, he washed the blood from his face and neck and examined his arm. The healing process had already begun, and with concentration he could accelerate it still further. He was burning up his Powers fast; the fight with his brother had already weakened him. But this was important. Not because of the pain-he scarcely noticed that-but because he needed to be fit.
Damon and Elena were waiting outside the school. He could feel his brother's impatience and Elena's wild new presence there in the dark.
"This had better work," Damon said.
Stefan said nothing. The school auditorium was another center of commotion. People ought to have been enjoying the Founders' Day dance; in fact, those who had remained through the storm were pacing around or gathered in small groups talking. Stefan looked in the open door, searching with his mind for one particular presence. He found it. A blond head was bent over a table in the corner.
Matt.
Matt straightened and looked around, puzzled. Stefan willed him to come outside. You need some fresh air, he thought, insinuating the suggestion into Matt's
subconscious. You feel like just stepping out for a moment.
To Damon, standing invisible just beyond the light, he said, Take her into the school, to the photography room. She knows where it is. Don't show yourselves until I say. Then he backed away and waited for Matt to appear.
Matt came out, his drawn face turned up to the moonless sky. He started violently when Stefan spoke to him.