He wanted her more than ever now that she had been a spirit. Even as a vampire she would retain most of her own nature, and he could just picture it: her light for his darkness, her soft whiteness in his hard, black-jacketed arms. He would stop that exquisite mouth with kisses, smother her with them. What was he thinking about? Vampires didn’t kiss like that for enjoyment — especially not other vampires. The blood, the hunt was all. Kissing beyond whatever was necessary to conquer their victim was pointless; it could lead nowhere. Only sentimental idiots like his brother bothered with such foolishness. A mated vampire pair might share the blood of a mortal victim, both striking at once, both controlling the victim’s mind — and joined together in mind-link, too. That was how they found their pleasure.
Still, Damon found himself excited by the idea of kissing Elena, of forcing kisses on her, of feeling her desperation to get away from him suddenly pause — with the little hesitation that came just before response, before yielding herself completely to him.
Maybe I’m going crazy, Damon thought, intrigued. He had never gone crazy before that he could recall, and there was some appeal in the idea. It had been centuries since he’d felt this kind of excitement.
All the better for you, Damaris, he thought. He had reached the point where Sycamore Street cut briefly into the Old Wood, and the road there was winding and dangerous. Regardless, he found himself turning to Damaris to wake her again, noting with approval that her lips were naturally that soft cherry color, without lipstick. He kissed her lightly, then waited to gauge her response.
Pleasure. He could see her mind go soft and rosy with it.
He glanced at the road ahead and then tried it again, this time holding the kiss. He was elated with her response, with both of their responses. This was amazing. It must have to do with the amount of blood he’d had, more than ever before in one day, or the combination. He suddenly had to wrench his attention from Damaris to driving. Some small russet animal had appeared as if by magic on the road in front of him. Damon normally didn’t go out of his way to run over rabbits, porcupines, and the like, but this one had annoyed him at a crucial moment. He grasped the steering wheel with both hands, his eyes black and cold as glacial ice in the depths of a cave, and headed straight for the russet thing.
Not all that small — there would be a bit of a bump.
“Hang on,” he murmured to Damaris.
At the last instant, the reddish thing dodged. Damon wrenched the wheel round to follow it, and then found himself faced with a ditch. Only the superhuman reflexes of a vampire — and the finely tuned response of a very expensive vehicle — could have kept them out of the ditch. Fortunately Damon had both, swinging them in a tight circle, tires squealing and smoking in protest.
And no bump.
Damon leaped over the car door in one fluid motion and looked around. But whatever it was, had vanished completely, as mysteriously as it had appeared.
Sconosciuto. Weird.
He wished he wasn’t heading into the sun; the bright afternoon light cut down his visual acuity severely. But he’d had a glimpse of the thing as it got close, and it had looked deformed. Pointed at one end and fan-like at the other.
Oh, well.
He turned back to the car, where Damaris was having hysterics. He wasn’t in the mood to coddle anyone, so he simply put her back to sleep. She slumped back into the seat, tears left to dry on her cheeks unheeded.
Damon got back into the car feeling frustrated. But he knew now what he wanted to do today. He wanted to find a bar — either seedy and sleazy or immaculate and expensive — and he wanted to find another vampire. With Fell’s Church being such a hot spot on the ley-line map, that shouldn’t be difficult in the surrounding areas. Vampires and other creatures of darkness were drawn to hot spots like bumblebees to honeysuckle.
And then he wanted a fight. It would be completely unfair — Damon was the strongest vampire left that he knew of, plus he was tick-full of a cocktail of the blood of Fell’s Church’s finest maidens. He didn’t care. He felt like taking his frustrations out on something, and — he flashed that inimitable, incandescent smile at nothing — some werewolf or vampire or ghoul was about to meet its quiet us. Maybe more than one, if he were only lucky enough to find them. After which — delicious Damaris for dessert.
Life was good, after all. And unlife, thought Damon, his eyes glinting dangerously behind the sunglasses, was even better. He wasn’t just going to sit and sulk because he couldn’t have Elena immediately. He was going to go out and enjoy himself and get stronger — and then sometime soon, he was going to go over to his pathetic milksop of a younger brother’s place and take her.
He happened to glance in the car’s rear view mirror for a moment. By some freak of light or inversion of the atmosphere, it seemed that he could see his eyes behind his sunglasses — burning red.
“I said,get out,” Meredith repeated to Caroline, still quietly. “You’ve said things that never should have been said in any civilized place. This happens to be Stefan’s place — and, yes, it’s his place to order you out, too. I’m doing it for him, though, because he never would ask a girl — and a former girlfriend, I might add — to get the hell out of his room.”
Matt cleared his throat. He’d stepped back into a corner and everyone had forgotten about him. Now he said, “Caroline, I’ve known you way too long to be formal, and Meredith’s right. You want to say the kind of things you’ve been saying about Elena, you do it somewhere faraway from Elena. But, look, there’s one thing I know. No matter what Elena did when she was — was down here before”—his voice dropped a little in wonder, and Bonnie knew that he meant, when Elena was here on Earth before—“she’s as close to an angel now as you can get. Right now she’s…she’s…completely…” He hesitated, stumbling for the right words.
“Pure,” Meredith said easily, filling in the blank for him.
“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “Yeah, pure. Everything she does is pure. And it’s not like any of your nasty words could stain her, anyway, but the rest of us just don’t like hearing you try.”
There was a low “Thank you” from Stefan.
“I was already going,” Caroline said, now through her teeth. “And don’t you dare preach at me about purity! Here, with all this going on! You probably just want to watch it going on yourself, two girls kissing. You probably—”
“Enough.” Stefan said it almost expressionlessly, but Caroline was swept off her feet, up and out of the door, and deposited there by invisible hands. Her purse trailed after her.
Then the door quietly shut.
Fine hairs rose on the back of Bonnie’s neck. This was Power, in such amounts that her psychic senses were stunned and temporarily paralyzed. Moving Caroline — and she wasn’t a small girl — now that took Power.
Maybe Stefan had changed just as much as Elena had. Bonnie glanced at Elena, whose pool of serenity was rippling because of Caroline.
Might as well take her mind off it, and maybe make herself worthy of a thank you from Stefan, Bonnie thought.
She tapped Elena’s knee, and when Elena turned, Bonnie kissed her.
Elena broke the kiss very quickly, as if afraid to set off some holocaust again. But Bonnie saw at once what Meredith had said about it not being sexual. It was…more like being examined by someone who used all her senses to the fullest. When Elena moved away from Bonnie she beamed at her just as she had at Meredith, all the distress washed away by — yes, the purity of the kiss. And Bonnie felt as if some of Elena’s tranquility had soaked into her.
“…should have known better than to bring Caroline,” Matt was saying to Stefan. “Sorry about butting in. But I know Caroline, and she could have gone on ranting for another half hour, never actually leaving.”
“Stefan took care of that,” Meredith said, “or was that Elena, too?”
“It was me,” Stefan said. “Matt had it right: she could keep on talking forever without actually leaving. And I’d just as lief nobody run Elena down like that in my hearing.”
Why are they talking about those things? Bonnie wondered. Of all people, Meredith and Stefan were least inclined to chatter, but here they were, saying things that didn’t really need to be said. Then she realized it was for Matt, who was moving slowly but with determination toward Elena.
Bonnie got up as quickly and as lithely as if she could fly, and managed to pass Matt without looking at him. And then she was joining Meredith and Stefan in small talk — well, medium-small talk — about what had just happened. Caroline made a bad enemy, everyone agreed, and nothing seemed to teach her that her schemes against Elena always backfired. Bonnie would bet that she was hatching a new scheme right now against all of them.
“She feels lonely all the time,” Stefan said, as if trying to make excuses for her. “She wants to be accepted, by anyone, on any terms — but she feels — apart. As if nobody who really got to know her would trust her.”
“She’s defensive,” Meredith agreed. “But you’d think she’d show some gratitude. After all, we did rescue her and save her life just over a week ago.”
There was more to it than that, Bonnie thought. Her intuition was trying to tell her something — something about what might have happened before they had been able to rescue Caroline — but she was so angry on Elena’s behalf that she ignored it.
“Why should anybody trust her?” she said to Stefan. She sneaked a peek behind her. Elena was definitely going to know Matt anywhere, and Matt looked as if he were fainting. “Caroline’s beautiful, sure, but that’s it. She never has a good word to say about anybody. She plays games all the time — and — and I know we used to do some of that, too…but hers are always meant to make other people look bad. Sure, she can take most guys in”—a sudden anxiety swept over her, and she spoke more loudly to try to push it away—“but if you’re a girl she’s just a pair of long legs and big—” Bonnie stopped because Meredith and Stefan had frozen, with identical. Oh-God-not-again expressions on their faces.
“And she also has very decent hearing,” said a shaking, threatening voice from somewhere behind Bonnie. Bonnie’s heart leaped into her throat.
That was what you got for ignoring premonitions.
“Caroline—” Meredith and Stefan were both trying for damage control, but it was too late. Caroline stalked in on her long legs as if she didn’t want her feet to touch Stefan’s floorboards. Oddly, though, she was carrying her high heels.
“I came back in to get my sunglasses,” she said, still in that trembling voice. “And I heard enough to know now what my so-called ‘friends’ think of me.”
“No, you didn’t,” Meredith said, as rapidly eloquent as Bonnie was stunned mute. “You heard some very angry people letting off steam after you’d just insulted them.”
“Besides,” Bonnie said, suddenly able to speak again, “admit it, Caroline — you hoped you’d hear something. That’s why you took off your shoes. You were right behind the door, listening, weren’t you?”
Stefan shut his eyes. “This is my fault. I should have—”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Meredith said to him, and to Caroline she added, “And if you can tell me one word we said that isn’t true, or was exaggerated — except maybe for what Bonnie said, and Bonnie is…just being Bonnie. Anyway, if you can point to one word of what the rest of us said that isn’t true,I’ll beg your pardon.”