“Well, somehow I don’t think we need to go so far as to call him ‘poor Damon.’ But I did remember him,” he said.
“Well done,” Elena said.
“We’d better go inside now,” Stefan said. And then hastily, “Downstairs, I mean.
Maybe we can think of something more to do for them.”
“Like what? There’s not a thing I can think of. I did meditation and Attempt to Contact by Out-of-Body Experience—”
“From nine thirty to ten thirty A.M.,” Stefan said. “And meanwhile I was trying all frequency telepathic calls. No response.”
“Then we tried with the Ouija board.”
“For half an hour — and all we got was nonsense.”
“It did tell us the clay was coming.”
“I think that was me bumping it toward ‘yes.’”
“Then I tried to tap into the ley lines below us for Power—”
“From eleven to around eleven thirty,” Stefan recited. “While I tried to go into hibernation to have a prophetic dream….”
“We really tried hard,” Elena said grimly.
“And then we nailed the last few boards up,” Stefan added. “Bringing us to a little after twelve thirty P.M.”
“Can you think of a single Plan — we’re down to G or H now — that might allow us to help them any more?”
“I can’t. I just honestly can’t,” Stefan said. Then he added, hesitantly, “Maybe Mrs. Flowers has some housework for us. Or”—even more hesitantly, testing the waters—“we could go into town.”
“No! You’re definitely not strong enough for that!” Elena said sharply. “And there’s no more housework,” she added. Then she threw everything to the wind.
Every responsibility. Every rationality. Just like that. She began to tow Stefan to the house so they could get there quicker.
“Elena—” I’m burning my bridges! Elena thought stubbornly, and suddenly she didn’t care.
And if Stefan cared she would bite him. But it was as if some spell had suddenly come over her so that she felt she would die without his touch. She wanted to touch him. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to be her mate.
“Elena!” Stefan could hear what she was thinking. He was torn, of course, Elena thought. Stefan was always torn. But how dare he be torn about this?
She turned around to face him, blazing. “You don’t want to!”
“I don’t want to do it and then find out I’ve Influenced you into it!”
“You were Influencing me?” shouted Elena.
Stefan threw out his hands and yelled, “How can I know when I want you so much?”
Oh. Well, that was better. There was a little glitter in Elena’s side-eye and she looked at it and realized that Mrs. Flowers had quietly shut a window.
Elena darted a glance at Stefan. He was trying not to blush. She doubled over, trying not to laugh. Then she stood on his shoes again.
“Maybe we deserve an hour alone”—dangerously.
“A whole hour?” Stefan’s conspiratorial whisper made an hour sound like eternity.
“We do deserve it,” Elena said, enthralled. She began to tow him again.
“No.” Stefan pulled her back, lifted her — bridal-style — and suddenly they were going straight up, fast. They shot up three stories and a little more and landed on the platform of the widow’s walk above his room.
“But it’s locked from inside—” Stefan stomped on the trapdoor — hard. The door disappeared.
Elena was impressed.
They floated down into Stefan’s room amid a shaft of light and motes of dust that looked like fireflies or stars.
“I’m a little nervous,” Elena said.
She heeled her sandals off and slid out of her jeans and top and into bed…only to find Stefan already there.
They’re faster, she thought. As fast as you think you are, they’re always faster.
She turned toward Stefan in the bed. She was wearing a camisole and underwear. She was scared.
“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t even have to bite you.”
“You do so. It’s all that weird stuff about my blood.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, as if he’d forgotten. Elena would bet that he hadn’t forgotten a word about her blood…allowing vampires to do things they couldn’t otherwise.
Her life energy gave them back all their human abilities, and he wouldn’t forget that.
They’re smarter, she thought.
“Stefan, it’s not supposed to be like this! I’m supposed to parade in front of you in a golden negligee designed by Lady Ulma, with jewels by Lucen and golden stiltswhich I don’t own. And there are supposed to be scattered flower petals on the bed and roses in little round bubble bowls and white vanilla candles.”
“Elena,” Stefan said, “come here.”
She went into his arms, and let herself breathe in the fresh smell of him, warm and spicy, with a trace of rusty nails.
You’re my life, Stefan told her silently. We’re not going to do anything today.
There’s not much time, and you deserve your golden negligee and your roses and candles. If not from Lady Ulma, from the finest Earth designers that money can provide. But…kiss me?
Elena kissed him willingly, so glad that he was willing to wait. The kiss was warm and comforting and she didn’t mind the slight taste of rust. And it was wonderful to be with someone who would provide exactly what she needed, whether that was a slight mind probe, just to make her feel safer, or…