“Go back?” Damon said, a little too quickly. She had the feeling that he’d seen the brown room too, now, through her eyes. “Why? The landlady gave me everything in the room. So I have your real clothes and a bunch of star balls down there, in case you weren’t through with one. But why would you think you might have to go back?”
“Well, I know you were looking for a lady of quality, and I’m not one,” Bonnie said simply.
“That was just so I could change back into a vampire,” Damon said. “And what do you think is holding you up in the air right now?” But this time Bonnie knew somehow that the sensations from the “Never Ever” star balls were still in her mind and that Damon was seeing them too. He was a vampire again. And the contents of these star balls were so abominable that Damon’s stony exterior finally cracked.
Bonnie could almost guess what he thought of them, and of her, left to shiver under her one blanket every night.
And then, to her total astonishment, Damon, the ever-composed, brand-new vampire blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how that place would be for you. Is there anything that will make you feel better?”
Bonnie blinked. She wondered, seriously, if she were dreaming. Damon didn’t apologize. Damon famously didn’t apologize, or explain, or speak so nicely to people, unless he wanted something from them. But one thing seemed real. She didn’t have to sleep in the brown room anymore.
This was so exciting that she flushed a little, and dared say, “Could we go down to the ground? Slowly? Because the truth is that I’m just terrified of heights.”
Damon blinked, but said, “Yes, I think I can manage that. Is there anything else you’d like?”
“Well — there are a couple of girls who’d be donors — happily — if — well — if there’s any money left — if you could save them…”
Damon said a little sharply, “Of course there’s some money left. I even wrung your share back out of that hag of a landlady.”
“Well, then, there’s that secret that I told you, but I don’t know if you remember.”
“How soon do you think you’ll feel well enough to start?” asked Damon.
Stefan woke early. He spent the time from dawn until breakfast just watching Elena, who even in sleep had an inner glow like a golden flame through a faintly rose-colored candle.
At breakfast, everyone was more or less still wrapped up in thoughts of the day before. Meredith showed Matt the picture of her brother, Cristian, the vampire. Matt briefly told Meredith about the inner workings of the Ridgemont court system and painted her a picture of Caroline as werewolf. It was clear that both of them felt safer at the boardinghouse than anywhere else.
And Elena, who had woken up with Stefan’s mind all around her, embracing her, and her own mind still full of light, was completely at a loss for a Plan A or any other letter. She had to be told gently by the others that only one thing made sense.
“Stefan,” Matt said, draining a mug of Mrs. Flowers’s pitch-black coffee. “He’s the only one who might be able to use his mind instead of Post-it Notes on the kids.”
And, “Stefan,” said Meredith. “He’s the only one Shinichi might be afraid of.”
“I’m no use at all,” Elena said sadly. She had no appetite. She had gotten dressed with a feeling of love and compassion toward all humankind and a desire to help protect her hometown, but as everyone pointed out, she was probably going to have to spend the day in the root cellar. Reporters might come to call.
They’re right, Stefan sent to Elena. I’m the only logical person to find out what’s really going on in Fell’s Church.
He actually went while the rest of them were finishing breakfast. Only Elena knew why; only she could feel him at the limits of her telepathic range.
Stefan was hunting. He drove into the New Wood, got out, and finally startled a rabbit out of the brush. He Influenced it to rest and not be frightened.
Surreptitiously, in this thin woodland without cover, he took a little blood from it… and choked.
It tasted like some kind of hideous liquid flavored with rodent. Was a rabbit a rodent? He had been lucky enough to find a rat one day in his prison cell and it had tasted vaguely like this.
But now, for days, he had been drinking human blood. Not just that, but the rich, potent blood of strong, adventurous, and in several cases paranormally talented individuals — the crème de la crème. How could he have gotten used to it so quickly?
It shamed him now, to think of what he’d taken. Elena’s blood, of course, was enough to drive any vampire wild. And Meredith, whose blood had the deep crimson taste of some primordial ocean, and Bonnie, who tasted like a telepath’s dessert.
And finally Matt, the All-American red-blooded boy.
They’d fed him and fed him by the hour, far past what he needed to survive.
They’d fed him until he’d begun to heal, and seeing that he was healing, they’d fed him more. And it had gone on and on, ending with Elena last night — Elena, whose hair was taking on a silvery cast and whose blue eyes seemed almost radiant.
Back in the Dark Dimension, Damon hadn’t exercised any restraint at all. Elena hadn’t exercised any on her own behalf.
That silvery cast…Stefan’s stomach clenched when he thought about it, about the last time he’d seen her hair that way. She’d been dead then. On her feet, but dead just the same.
Stefan let the rabbit scamper away. He was taking another oath. He must not make Elena into a vampire again. That meant no significant blood exchange between the two of them for at least a week — either giving or taking might tip her over the edge.
He must once again adjust to the taste of animal blood.
Stefan shut his eyes briefly, remembering the horror of the first time. The cramps. The shakes. The agony that seemed to tell his entire body that it wasn’t getting fed. The feeling that his veins might explode into flame at any moment, and the pain in his jaws.
He stood up. He was lucky to be alive. Luckier than he ever could have dreamed he would be in having Elena beside him. He would work through the readjustment without bothering her by telling her, he decided.
Just two hours later Stefan was back at the boardinghouse, limping slightly. Matt, who met him at the heavy front door, noticed the limp. “You okay? You’d better get in and ice it.”
“Just a cramp,” Stefan said briefly. “I’m not used to exercise. Didn’t get any back there in — you know.” He looked away, flushing. So did Matt, hot and cold and furious at the people who had put Stefan in this condition. Vampires were pretty resilient, but he had the feeling — no, he knew — that Stefan had almost died in his prison cell. One day under lock and key had convinced Matt that he never wanted to be imprisoned again.
He followed Stefan to the kitchen where Elena, Meredith, and Mrs. Flowers were — what else? — drinking mugs of tea.
And Matt felt a twinge when Elena instantly noticed the limp and got up and went to Stefan, and Stefan held her tightly, running reassuring fingers through her hair.
Matt couldn’t help but wonder, though — was that glorious golden hair turning lighter?
More like the silvery gold it had been when Elena had first gone with Stefan and was on her way to turning into a vampire? Stefan certainly seemed to be inspecting it closely, turning each handful as he raked his fingers through it.
“Any luck?” Elena asked him, tension in her voice.
Wearily, Stefan shook his head. “I went up streets and down streets and wherever I found a — a young girl who was contorted, or whirling round and round, or doing any other of the things the papers mentioned, I tried to Influence them.
Well, maybe I shouldn’t have bothered with the whirling girls. I couldn’t catch their eyes. But the final count is zero for eleven.”
Elena turned toward Meredith in agitation. “What do we do?”
Mrs. Flowers busily began rummaging through bundles of herbs that hung above her stove. “You need a nice cup of tea.”
“And a rest,” Meredith said, patting him lightly on the hand. “Can I get you anything?”
“Well — I’ve got a new idea — scrying. But I need Misao’s star ball to see if it will work. Don’t worry,” he added, “I won’t use any of the Power in it; I just need to look at the surface.”
“I’ll bring it,” Elena offered, getting up promptly from where she was sitting on his lap. Matt started slightly and looked at Mrs. Flowers as Elena went to the door of the root cellar and pushed. Nothing moved and Mrs. Flowers simply watched benignly. It was Stefan who rose to help her, still limping. Then Matt and Meredith got up, Meredith asking, “Mrs. Flowers, are you sure we should keep the star ball in that same safe?”
“Mama says we’re doing the right thing,” Mrs. Flowers answered serenely.