by L. J. Smith
She’d met him at Alaric’s house at the party Alaric had thrown looking for evidence of vampires. But Alaric wasn’t here, wouldn’t be here if she accomplished her mission, because he had come after Mr. Tanner was murdered.
She’d sat through history class today, watched as Mr. Tanner mocked Bonnie for her lack of knowledge of history, as Stefan cooly put him in his place. She was struck by how young Mr. Tanner was—about the same age as Elena and her friends were in her real present. He was inexperienced and desperate to keep the attention and respect of a class of kids only a few years younger than he was. But despite all that, he’d known a lot about the Renaissance and spoken well about it. Maybe in a few years, he’d be a good teacher. If he lived.
With renewed purpose, Elena walked faster, thinking hard. Damon had come to Bonnie’s house. But that was when he was looking for Elena, after she’d already gotten his attention.
A caw came overhead. Elena stopped short and craned her head back to catch a glimpse of a fat black crow in the maple tree overhead. It wasn’t Damon, she saw immediately. This bird was plumper, smaller. Probably just a bird, she told herself as it cawed again and then spread its wings and flew off, low, past the house behind her.
But the sight prompted the memory of a dark shape winging its way up from the oak trees at the edge of the cemetery, when she had gone there to visit her parents, before she had known Damon. He’d been keeping an eye on her, hadn’t he?
Elena stopped dead. The cemetery.
The horrors of her senior year hadn’t begun with Mr. Tanner’s death on Halloween. They’d begun today—when Stefan had fed from an old vagrant sheltering under Wickery Bridge. And it had happened because Stefan had watched Elena in the cemetery, then been caught by a wave of angry Power, leaving him dazed and ravenous.
Katherine’s Power, which she had unleashed after witnessing Stefan’s interest in Elena, driving Elena out of the churchyard.
The man hadn’t died, but his injuries had been the first sign to the people of Fell’s Church that danger lurked in their idyllic little town.
Hesitantly, Elena took a few steps toward home. If she didn’t go to her parents’ graves, the attack wouldn’t happen. The old man would be fine, the townwide panic wouldn’t begin.
And yet … Elena stopped again and rocked back on her heels, thinking.
She hadn’t been talking to Stefan, hadn’t shown any interest in him this time. He wouldn’t be following her, would he? And the graveyard would be a good place to try to find Damon. That was the most important thing.
A cloud passed over the sun, and Elena felt a little colder, a little sadder. It had been a long time since she had visited her parents. Now that she lived a few hours away, she hardly ever made it back to Fell’s Church. She could see them now, she thought longingly. The cemetery would be isolated and peaceful after her long day. She could be alone there, and Damon would be more likely to come to her when she was alone. Making up her mind, Elena hitched her backpack higher on her shoulders, and headed toward the cemetery, her steps sounding loud and firm in her own ears.
It was a fairly long walk, almost to the edge of town. Coming close to Wickery Bridge, another rusty caw grabbed her attention. Wings spread wide, the huge crow glided to land on the bridge’s parapet. Turning its head, it fixed one bright eye on Elena. It seemed to be waiting.
Elena smiled. Challenge accepted, Damon.
She had expected to be a little shaky crossing Wickery Bridge, the place where Katherine had pursued her, and Elena had driven off this bridge and drowned. She could still remember the horrible rending sound as the hood of Matt’s car had smashed through the old bridge’s side. She could almost feel how icy-cold the water had been as she struggled.
But with Damon here, she could be brave.
“Hello, bird,” she said casually. The crow stayed very still, its shining dark gaze fixed on Elena. She glanced up at the blue sky, and back at the crow. Then, slowly and deliberately, holding the crow’s gaze, Elena smiled, a smile full of secrets. And then she walked on, straight past him, her head high. The bird watched as she passed.
As she entered the cemetery, Elena’s gaze fell on the ruined church, and she felt a tremor of foreboding deep inside her. Katherine was down there in the dark passages of the crypts already, watching them all.
At the thought of Katherine, Elena’s hands automatically clenched into fists, anxiety running through her. Katherine had been furious when Stefan and Elena had fallen in love, and had attacked them both, had gone after the whole town. It had been the beginning of everything terrible.
Elena’s fingernails bit into her palms. How would Katherine feel when Elena went after Damon? Katherine considered both the Salvatores her property, Elena knew, but she had always thought the vampire girl was more possessive of Stefan. She’d even offered to let him live, if he left Damon and Elena to die. But Elena couldn’t let herself forget that Katherine was a threat, whichever Salvatore brother Elena pursued.
Crossing past the old church, Elena lifted her chin defiantly. She’d have to solve the Katherine problem when she got to it.
Reaching the newer, well-kept part of the cemetery, Elena rested a hand on the big marble headstone with GILBERT carved into the front.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” she whispered. “I’m sorry it’s been such a long time.”
She missed them so much, not as sharply or painfully as when she’d been in high school the first time, but with a powerfully wistful longing. If her beautiful, artistic mother had lived, she could have guided Elena through those first rocky days of being an Earthly Guardian. If her funny, warm father had been there, she could have leaned on him through all the hard times. They would have liked Stefan, she thought, and they would have seen how Damon’s stubborn, fiery nature complemented Elena’s own.
She wished that she could have gone even further back, that the Guardians had sent her back to Fell’s Church when she was twelve. She could have saved her parents. She could have kept them out of the car that terrible day that had ended their lives and changed hers and Margaret’s forever.
With a powerful rush of longing, Elena remembered her mother laughing as she chased her through the house when Elena had been very small, catching her and sweeping her up into her arms for a hug.
“I still miss you,” she whispered, brushing her hand across her parents’ names.
A sudden wind caught her hair, whipping it across her face. Looking up, Elena saw the tops of the oak trees at the edge of the cemetery tossing violently. Dark clouds were massing above her, and there was a sharp chill in the air. She shivered.
The sky grew darker still. This wasn’t a natural storm, surely. It had been clear and sunny only a moment before.
Damon? He could change the weather when he wanted to. Or Katherine? She was far more powerful than Damon right now.
Elena shuddered. If it was Katherine, she might kill Elena without even thinking about it. She remembered how easily Katherine had torn Damon’s chest apart with her long talonlike nails, as her fangs ripped through his throat. There had been so much blood.
Elena steeled herself. Running wouldn’t make any difference; she knew that this time. She’d tried that, and Katherine had caught up with her eventually. Again, she remembered the cold of the water under Wickery Bridge and shivered.
“I’m not afraid,” she said stubbornly. “Whatever’s out there, I’m ready for you.”
The wind stopped. Everything grew still, the leaves hanging motionless from the trees. All around Elena was silence, without even the chirp of a bird or the sound of a car in the distance.
Something stirred in the shadows under the oak trees. Elena squinted, trying to see. A dark figure moved toward her. The dim sunlight caught pale skin and sleek, night-dark hair. Black boots, black jeans, black shirt, black leather jacket. An arrogant lift to his chin, as if he’d seen everything in the world and didn’t think much of it. Damon.
Thunder crashed overhead and Elena, despite h
erself, jumped.
“Nervous?” Damon was smiling faintly, his dark eyes amused. He was so beautiful, she thought absently. That was always true, always had been true. Sculpted cheekbones and clean, fine features. But there was something unfamiliar in that smile. There was none of the affection, none of the tenderness she was used to.
Elena reached for the bond between them automatically, wanting to check on Damon’s thoughts and emotions, and to reaffirm their constant connection. But there was nothing. The Guardian’s bond didn’t exist here.
Damon moved closer, his eyes fixed on her face. “There’s a storm coming,” he said, his voice low and intimate, as if he was telling her a secret. The thunder grumbled again. “A bad day for a walk.”
Elena felt her own smile rise to meet his challenging one. “I’m not afraid of a little rain,” she said.
“No, I imagine you’re not afraid of much.” Damon lifted a hand to brush Elena’s cheek, tracing a finger lightly down her throat. He was far too close, and something twisted uneasily inside Elena.
This was Damon. She had no reason to fear him. Damon loved her.
Only … not this Damon. Not yet. This Damon was a hunter, and he was looking at Elena as if she were prey. Despite herself, she stepped backward.
His eyes narrowed and his smile spread. Elena jutted her chin out stubbornly. She was not going to flinch away from Damon. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Someone could be watching you,” Damon went on, moving closer still. “A young girl, alone in a graveyard, when night is beginning to fall.” His voice was soothing, hypnotic almost, and he moved toward her once more, so close that she could feel his breath on her skin.
Elena’s chest ached. This wasn’t her Damon, this Damon with the cruel set to his mouth and the malicious gleam in his eyes. He was dangerous, even to her.
But, after all, he was Damon, wasn’t he? He didn’t know her, not yet, but Elena knew him, inside and out. She felt a smile blossoming on her own face and her shoulders, which had lifted as if she was expecting a blow, dropped.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I know you’d never hurt me.”
Damon frowned and took a step back away from her. He hesitated for a split second, then opened his mouth to speak.
“Elena?” Startled, Elena turned to see Bonnie and Meredith approaching from the other end of the graveyard. “Elena?” Bonnie called again.
A light breeze broke the stillness of the air, lifting Elena’s hair. The sun came out from behind the dark clouds, and a mockingbird sang an insistent trill from a nearby tree. A cool finger brushed across the nape of Elena’s neck. She gasped and whipped back around, but Damon was gone. The green grass over the graves behind her was as smooth and empty as if he had never been there.
“Elena,” Bonnie said as they reached Elena, “sometimes I worry about you. I really do.”
“Was somebody here?” Meredith said, confusion on her face. “I thought …” Had Damon Influenced them to forget him? Elena wondered. Or had he simply moved so quickly they weren’t sure what they had seen?
“It’s just me,” Elena said slowly, her eyes still searching the graveyard. There were no dark figures among the trees. No black bird rose toward the sky. “I didn’t expect you guys to follow me.”
“You can tell us to go away,” Meredith suggested, glancing at the gray stone above Elena’s parents’ graves.
Elena shook her head. “It’s okay,” she said. “I wanted to hang out with you guys anyway.” She sat down in the sun-warmed grass beside the headstone, pulling the others down next to her. The three girls sat quietly for a while, watching the soft white clouds blow across the sky.
Bonnie ran her fingers through Elena’s ponytail, taking the ribbon out and twining it into little braids. The gentle pulls on her hair felt good, and Elena relaxed, leaning back against her friend’s leg.
“So,” Bonnie started, her hands not pausing in their braiding, “are you going to tell us why you’ve been acting so funny today?”
Elena opened her mouth, a denial springing to her lips, and caught Meredith’s knowing gaze.
“I know I said you seemed distracted this morning,” Meredith told her, “but it’s more than that.”
“You’ve been getting the strangest look on your face when you look at people, even us,” Bonnie said thoughtfully, tucking a stray piece of hair into one of Elena’s braids. “Like we’re strangers.”
Elena turned at that, her hair slipping through Bonnie’s fingers, and looked at her friend. Bonnie stared back at her, brown eyes wide and a little hurt.
“It’s not like that.” Elena said. But it did feel, a little bit, like they were different people from the ones she knew. Bonnie and Meredith had been through so much with her—they’d even traveled to a different dimension together—but not yet, not this Bonnie and Meredith.
If Elena managed to change what happened now, if she could keep Damon from killing Mr. Tanner and setting the future she already knew in motion, would her friendship with Bonnie and Meredith change, too? She ached with sorrow at the idea.
“If something’s wrong, we want to help,” Meredith said softly.
Warmth ran through Elena, soothing away that sorrowful ache, and she reached for her friends’ hands. “I’m fine,” she said, gripping Bonnie’s square, small hand and Meredith’s long cool one. “Only … everything’s changing, isn’t it? It’s our senior year, our last year together.”
“Nothing’s going to change,” Bonnie said uncomfortably. “Nothing important. Just school and stuff.”
“Elena’s right,” Meredith said, turning her hand to thread her fingers through Elena’s. “Next year at this time, who knows where we’ll all be?”
“You’ve both been such good friends to me,” Elena said in a rush. “When my parents died … I couldn’t have gotten through that bad time without you. I don’t want to lose you guys, not ever.”
Bonnie sniffed and pulled away from Elena to wipe at her eyes. “Don’t make me cry,” she said, half laughing. “My mascara will run, and then I’ll look like a raccoon.”
“Let’s swear an oath.” Elena said determinedly. “An oath that we’ll always be true friends.”
They’d sworn a blood oath in this graveyard the first time she’d lived this. Bonnie and Meredith had sworn that they would do anything Elena asked in relation to Stefan. And Elena had sworn not to rest until Stefan belonged to her. Not even if it killed her.
And, well, it had killed her in the end, hadn’t it? It had killed both of them. An oath like that—sworn in blood in a graveyard—had true Power.
“Wait a minute,” Meredith said, as Elena had known she would. She let go of Elena’s hand and unfastened a pin from her blouse, then jabbed it quickly into her thumb. “Bonnie, give me your hand.”
“Why?” Bonnie asked, frowning suspiciously at the pin.
“Because I want to marry you,” Meredith said sarcastically, and Elena smiled a little. “Why do you think?”
“But—but—Oh, all right. Ow!”
“Now you, Elena.” Meredith hesitated and then jabbed at Elena’s finger, their eyes meeting for a moment. She held out her own thumb, a plump drop of blood swelling on its pad, and Bonnie and Elena pressed their thumbs against hers. Bonnie’s eyes were still shining with tears and Meredith looked pale and earnest. Affection for them both swelled inside Elena. These were her sisters.
“I swear that I’ll always be there for both of you,” Meredith said steadily. “I’ll be on your side and do everything I can for you, no matter what happens.”
“No matter what,” Bonnie said, closing her eyes. “I swear.”
Elena, pressing her thumb hard against the other girls’, ignoring the twinge of pain, said softly, “I swear, I will always be there for you, no matter what.” She felt breathless and expectant. This was sacred.
A gust of cold wind blew through the cemetery, lifting the girls’ hair, and sending a flurry of dry leaves across the gro
und. Bonnie gasped and pulled back, and they all giggled. A flush of satisfaction filled Elena. Whatever happened, however the world changed now, at least she knew she’d have Bonnie and Meredith.
Elena rested her head in her hands, staring down at the scratched surface of her desk as her classmates settled into their seats for trigonometry class. Ignoring their chatter, she went back over her meeting with Damon in the graveyard the day before. Was there something she should have done differently?
She knew she’d intrigued him. She had seen his pupils widen when he leaned in toward her, his eyes curious and hungry. She’d half expected him to appear at her window that night. But he hadn’t.
Although … that morning she’d heard the caw of a crow and whipped around just too late to see the bird. All the way to school, she’d had the disquieting feeling that she was being watched.
Halloween was coming. The night Damon had killed Mr. Tanner. Shifting uneasily in her seat, Elena remembered how Mr. Tanner’s head had flopped lifelessly backward against the altar in the Halloween house of horrors. His throat had been caked with blood. Elena squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to block out the memories.
Damon had been at the Haunted House that night, and seeing Elena and Stefan together filled him with jealousy and seething resentment. He had lashed out by feeding on Mr. Tanner when Mr. Tanner stuck a dagger into him. Damon had killed him out of surprised rage and pain.
According to Mylea, that was when Damon’s fate had been sealed. If Elena didn’t manage to change what happened, she would die. Stefan would die. And Elena couldn’t imagine the Guardians would let Damon live, not without Elena to rein him in. They would all be doomed.
So far, she’d successfully avoided Stefan. In history class she tried to close her mind off, scowling with concentration as she chanted multiplication tables or dialogue from old movies in her mind—anything to drown out whatever part of her might call to Stefan. He didn’t try to talk to her, either. She’d had to pursue him last time; he hadn’t wanted to be reminded of Katherine, hadn’t wanted to connect with her.
