“Come on!” I pushed Damon in the direction of the church, and we didn’t talk until we reached the rickety white house.
“This is where you live?” Damon’s lip curled as his eyes flicked up from the sagging, whitewashed porch to the dark windows.
“Well, I understand that it may not measure up to your standards, but we all must make sacrifices every now and again,” I said sarcastically as I led him to the back door.
The door swung open, allowing a triangular slice of light to pour out over the dark backyard.
I put my hands up as Lexi appeared in the doorway. “I know you said no visitors, but—”
“Come in. Quickly!” she said, locking the door the second we crossed the threshold. In the main room, candles were burning, and Buxton, Hugo, and Percy were all perched on the chairs and couches, as if they were in the middle of a meeting.
“You must be Damon.” Lexi nodded to him slightly. “Welcome to our home.” I was aware of Damon watching her, and wondered what he saw.
“Yes, ma’am,” Damon said with an easy grin. “And I’m afraid that during our time in captivity, my brother somehow failed to mention you and your”—his eyes flicked over Percy and Buxton—“family.”
Percy bristled and half-rose from his seat, but Lexi put up a hand to stop him. “I’m Lexi. And as Stefan is your brother, my home is your home.”
“We escaped,” I started to explain.
Lexi nodded. “I know. Buxton was there.”
“You were?” I whirled around in surprise. “Were you betting for me or against me?” Damon let out a little snort.
Lexi laid a hand on my forearm. “Be nice. He was there to help you.”
My eyes widened. “You were going to help me?”
Buxton leaned back in his chair. “I was. But then someone had the bright idea to burn down the whole place, so I left.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking pleased at himself for being part of the action.
“It was Callie. She lit the fire,” I said.
Lexi’s eyes registered surprise. “I was wrong,” she said simply. “It’s been known to happen.”
“You must forgive my poor manners in interrupting, but do you have anything to eat?” Damon asked, not turning away from the portrait of an old woman that he was examining. “I’ve had a rather difficult few weeks.”
For the first time since we had escaped, I really looked at my brother. His voice was hoarse, as if he was unused to using it. Bloody gashes covered his arms and legs; his clothes were in tattered rags; and his shock of black hair was filthy and lank against his pale neck. Red rimmed his eyes, and his hands trembled slightly.
“Of course. You boys must be starving.” Lexi tsked. “Buxton, take him to the butcher shop. Let him eat his fill. I doubt there are enough humans in New Orleans to quench his thirst. And tonight, at least, he deserves to eat like a king.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Buxton said, bowing slightly as he raised his bulk from the chair.
“I’ll join him,” I said, heading toward the door.
“No.” Lexi shook her head and grabbed my arm—hard. “I have tea for you.”
“But . . .” I protested, confused and annoyed. I could practically taste the pig’s blood on my tongue.
“No buts,” Lexi said sharply, sounding remarkably like my mother.
Buxton opened the door for Damon, who wiggled his brow at me as if to say, “Poor boy!”
If Lexi saw, she pretended not to notice, instead busying herself with the tea kettle while I slumped on one of the rickety chairs set up around the table, my head resting on my hands.
“When you become a vampire, it’s not just your teeth and diet that change,” Lexi said as she stoked the fire in the stove, her back toward me.
“What does that mean?” I asked defensively.
“It means that you and your brother aren’t who you used to be. You’ve both changed, and you may not know Damon as well as you think,” Lexi said, carrying two steaming mugs in her hands. “Goat’s blood.”
“I don’t like goat’s blood,” I said, pushing the mug away angrily. I sounded like a petulant toddler, and I didn’t care. “And no one knows Damon better than I do.”
“Oh, Stefan,” Lexi said, looking at me kindly. “I know. But promise me you’ll be careful. These are dangerous times—for everyone.”
At the word dangerous, something clicked in my mind. “Callie! I have to find her!”
“No!” Lexi pushed me back down on my chair. “Her father will not harm her, but he’ll kill you, given half the chance, and you’re in no shape for a fight.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Lexi cut me off.
“Callie is fine. You can see her tomorrow. But for now, drink the blood. Fall asleep. When you awaken, you will be healed, and you, Damon, and Callie will figure out everything then.”
Lexi left the kitchen with a swish of her aprons and extinguished the lamp.
Suddenly exhaustion fell over me like a heavy blanket, and the desire to fight Lexi’s advice drained from my body. With a sigh, I lifted the mug and took a small sip. The liquid was warm and velvety, and I couldn’t help but admit that it was good.
Lexi was right—I would see Callie tomorrow to say good-bye. But I needed rest. My entire body hurt, even my heart.
At least you know you have one, I imagined Lexi saying, and I smiled in the darkness.
October 19, 1864
I ’m out of danger, but I don’t feel safe. I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe again, or will I forever long for a desire that I’ll never fulfill? Will I get used to the ache? Twenty, two hundred, two thousand years from now, will I even remember these weeks? And will I remember Callie and her red hair, her laugh? I will. I have to. Callie has saved me and given me another chance at life. In a way, it’s like she was the daylight that followed the darkness Katherine had cast upon my existence. Katherine turned me into a monster, but Callie has changed me back into the Stefan Salvatore I’m proud to be. I wish her love. I want nothing but the best for her. I want for her to live in the light and find a man—a human—who will appreciate and adore her, who will take her away from Gallagher’s house forever to a quiet home on a lake, where she can teach her children to skip stones.
I woke in the middle of the night to what I thought were hailstones bouncing against the windowpane. Despite Lexi’s rules, I peeked through a tiny slit in the curtains and squinted into the darkness. The trees were bare, their branches like ghostly limbs stretching toward the sky. Though it was a moonless night, I could see a raccoon scamper through the yard. And then, a figure standing timidly behind one of the columns on the portico.
Callie.
I hastily pulled on a shirt and slipped down the stairs, taking care to not make any noise. The last thing I wanted was for Buxton or Lexi to know that a human had followed me home.
The door shut with a thud behind me, and I saw Callie jump.
“I’m here,” I whispered, feeling thrilled, confused, and excited, all at once.
“Hi,” she said shyly.
“Are you going somewhere?” I asked, nodding at her bag.