by L. J. Smith
"Unquiet spirits," she whispered.
"Yes. There was a battle here, wasn't there?"
"In the Civil War," Matt said. "That's how the church in the cemetery got ruined. It was a slaughter on both sides. Nobody won, but almost everyone who fought got killed. The woods are full of their graves."
"And the ground was soaked with blood. A place like that draws the supernatural to it. It draws evil to it. That's why Katherine was attracted to Fell's Church in the first place. I felt it too, when I first came here."
"And now something else has come," Meredith said, perfectly serious for once. "But how are we supposed to fight it?"
"We have to know what we're fighting first. I think…" But before he could finish, there was a creak and pale, dusty sunlight fell across the bales of hay. The barn door had opened.
Everyone tensed defensively, ready to jump up and run or fight. The figure nudging the huge door back with one elbow, however, was anything but menacing.
Mrs. Flowers, who owned the boarding house, smiled at them, her little black eyes crinkling into wrinkles. She was carrying a tray.
"I thought you children might like something to drink while you're talking," she said comfortably.
Everyone exchanged disconcerted glances. How had she known they were out here? And how could she be so calm about it?
"Here you go," Mrs. Flowers continued. "This is grape juice, made from my own Concord grapes." She put a paper cup beside Meredith, then Matt, then Bonnie. "And here are some gingersnap cookies. Fresh." She held the plate around. Bonnie noticed she didn't offer any to Stefan or Damon.
"You two can come round to the cellar if you like and try some of my blackberry wine," she said to them, with what Bonnie would swear was a wink.
Stefan took a deep, wary breath. "Uh, look, Mrs. Flowers…"
"And your old room's just like you left it. Nobody's been up there since you went. You can use it when you want; it won't put me out a bit."
Stefan seemed at a loss for words. "Well—thank you. Thank you very much. But—"
"If you're worried I'll say something to somebody, you can set your mind at ease. I don't tend to run off at the mouth. Never have, never will. How's that grape juice?"—turning suddenly on Bonnie.
Bonnie hastily took a gulp. "Good," she said truthfully.
"When you finish, throw the cups in the trash. I like things kept tidy." Mrs. Flowers cast a look about the barn, shaking her head and sighing. "Such a shame. Such a pretty girl." She looked at Stefan piercingly with eyes like onyx beads. "You've got your work cut out for you this time, boy," she said, and left, still shaking her head.
"Well!" said Bonnie, staring after her, amazed. Everyone else just looked at each other blankly.
" 'Such a pretty girl'—but which?" said Mere-dith at last. "Sue or Elena?" Elena had actually spent a week or so in this very barn last winter—but Mrs. Flowers wasn't supposed to know that. "Did you say something to her about us?" Meredith asked Damon.
"Not a word." Damon seemed amused. "She's an old lady. She's batty."
"She's sharper than any of us gave her credit for," Matt said. "When I think of the days we spent watching her potter around that basement—do you think she knew we were watching?"
"I don't know what to think," Stefan said slowly. "I'm just glad she seems to be on our side. And she's given us a safe place to stay."
"And grape juice, don't forget that." Matt grinned at Stefan. "Want some?" He proffered the leaky cup.
"Yeah, you can take your grape juice and…" But Stefan was almost smiling himself. For an instant Bonnie saw the two of them the way they used to be, before Elena had died. Friendly, warm, as comfortable together as she and Meredith were. A pang went through her.
But Elena isn't dead, she thought. She's more here than ever. She's directing everything we say and do.
Stefan had sobered again. "When Mrs. Flowers came in, I was about to say that we'd better get started. And I think we should start with Vickie."
"She won't see us," Meredith replied instantly. "Her parents are keeping everyone away."
"Then we'll just have to bypass her parents," Stefan said. "Are you coming with us, Damon?"
"A visit to yet another pretty girl? I wouldn't miss it."
Bonnie turned to Stefan in alarm, but he spoke reassuringly as he guided her out of the barn. "It'll be all right. I'll keep an eye on him."
Bonnie hoped so.
Six
Vickie's house was on a corner, and they approached it from the side street. By now the sky was filled with heavy purple clouds. The light had an almost underwater quality.
"Looks like it's going to storm," Matt said.
Bonnie glanced at Damon. Neither he nor Stefan liked bright light. And she could feel the Power emanating from him, like a low thrum just under the surface of his skin. He smiled without looking at her and said, "How about snow in June?"
Bonnie clamped down on a shiver.
She had looked Damon's way once or twice in the barn and found him listening to the story with an air of detached indifference. Unlike Stefan, his expression hadn't changed in the slightest when she mentioned Elena—or when she told about Sue's death. What did he really feel for Elena? He'd called up a snowstorm once and left her to freeze in it. What was he feeling now? Did he even care about catching the murderer?
"That's Vickie's bedroom," said Meredith. "The bay window in the back."
Stefan looked at Damon. "How many people in the house?"
"Two. Man and woman. The woman's drunk."
Poor Mrs. Bennett, thought Bonnie.
"I need them both asleep," Stefan said.
In spite of herself, Bonnie was fascinated by the surge of Power she felt from Damon. Her psychic abilities had never been strong enough to sense its raw essence before, but now they were. Now she could feel it as clearly as she could see the fading violet light or smell the honeysuckle outside Vickie's window.
Damon shrugged. "They're asleep."
Stefan tapped lightly on the glass.
There was no response, or at least none Bonnie could see. But Stefan and Damon looked at each other.
"She's half tranced already," Damon said.
"She's scared. I'll do it; she knows me," said Stefan. He put his fingertips on the window. "Vickie, it's Stefan Salvatore," he said. "I'm here to help you. Come let me in."
His voice was quiet, nothing that should have been heard on the other side of the glass. But after a moment the curtains stirred and a face appeared.
Bonnie gasped aloud.
Vickie's long, light brown hair was disheveled, and her skin was chalky. There were huge black rings under her eyes. The eyes themselves were fixed and glassy. Her lips were rough and chapped.
"She looks like she's dressed up to do Ophelia's mad scene," Meredith said under her breath. "Nightgown and all."
"She looks possessed," Bonnie whispered back, unnerved.
Stefan just said, "Vickie, open the window."
Mechanically, like a windup doll, Vickie cranked one of the side panels of the bay window open, and Stefan said, "Can I come in?"
Vickie's glazed eyes swept over the group outside. For a moment Bonnie thought she didn't recognize any of them. But then she blinked and said slowly, "Meredith… Bonnie… Stefan? You're back. What are you doing here?"
"Ask me in, Vickie." Stefan's voice was hypnotic.
"Stefan…" There was a long pause and then: "Come in."
She stepped back as he put a hand on the sill and vaulted through. Matt followed him, then
Meredith. Bonnie, who was wearing a mini, re-mained outside with Damon. She wished she'd worn jeans to school today, but then she hadn't known she'd be going on an expedition.
"You shouldn't be here," Vickie said to Stefan, almost calmly. "He's coming to get me. He'll get you too."
Meredith put an arm around her. Stefan just said, "Who?"
"Him. He comes to me in my dreams. He killed Sue." Vickie's matter-of-fact tone w
as more frightening than any hysteria could have been.
"Vickie, we've come to help you," Meredith said gently. "Everything's going to be all right now. We won't let him hurt you, I promise."
Vickie swung around to stare at her. She looked Meredith up and down as if Meredith had suddenly changed into something unbelievable. Then she began to laugh.
It was awful, a hoarse burst of mirth like a hacking cough. It went on and on until Bonnie wanted to cover her ears. Finally Stefan said, "Vickie, stop it."
The laughter died into something like sobs, and when Vickie lifted her head again, she looked less glassy eyed but more genuinely upset. "You're all going to die, Stefan," she said, shaking her head. "No one can fight him and live."
"We need to know about him so we can fight him. We need your help," Stefan said. "Tell me what he looks like."
"I can't see him in my dreams. He's just a shadow without a face." Vickie whispered it, her shoulders hunching.
"But you saw him at Caroline's house," Stefan said insistently. "Vickie, listen to me," he added as the girl turned away sharply. "I know you're frightened, but this is important, more important than you can understand. We can't fight him unless we know what we're up against, and you are the only one, the only one right now who has the information we need. You have to help us."
"I can't remember—"
Stefan's voice was unyielding. "I have a way to help you remember," he said. "Will you let me try?"
Seconds crawled by, then Vickie gave a long, bubbling sigh, her body sagging. "Do whatever you want," she said indifferently. "I don't care. It won't make any difference."
"You're a brave girl. Now look at me, Vickie. I want you to relax. Just look at me and relax." Stefan's voice dropped to a lulling murmur. It went on for a few minutes, and then Vickie's eyes drooped shut.
"Sit down." Stefan guided her to sit on the bed. He sat beside her, looking into her face.
"Vickie, you feel calm and relaxed now. Nothing you remember will hurt you," he said, his voice soothing. "Now, I need you to go back to Saturday night. You're upstairs, in the master bedroom of Caroline's house. Sue Carson is with you, and someone else. I need you to see—"
"No!" Vickie twisted back and forth as if trying to escape something. "No! I can't—"
"Vickie, calm down. He won't hurt you. He can't see you, but you can see him. Listen to me."
As Stefan spoke, Vickie's whimpers quieted. But she still thrashed and writhed.
"You need to see him, Vickie. Help us fight him. What does he look like?"
"He looks like the devil!"
It was almost a scream. Meredith sat on Vickie's other side and took her hand. She looked out through the window at Bonnie, who looked back wide eyed and shrugged slightly. Bonnie had no idea what Vickie was talking about.
"Tell me more," Stefan said evenly.
Vickie's mouth twisted. Her nostrils were flared as if she were smelling something awful. When she spoke, she got out each word separately, as if they were making her sick.
"He wears… an old raincoat. It flaps around his legs in the wind. He makes the wind blow. His hair is blond. Almost white. It stands up all over his head. His eyes are so blue—electric blue." Vickie licked her lips and swallowed, looking nauseated. "Blue is the color of death."
Thunder rumbled and cracked in the sky. Damon glanced up quickly, then frowned, eyes narrowed.
"He's tall. And he's laughing. He's reaching for me, laughing. But Sue screams 'No, no' and tries to pull me away. So he takes her instead. The window's broken, and the balcony is right there. Sue's crying 'No, please.' And then I watch him—I watch him throw her…" Vickie's breath was hitching, her voice rising hysterically.
"Vickie, it's all right. You're not really there. You're safe."
"Oh, please, no—Sue! Sue! Sue!"
"Vickie, stay with me. Listen. I need just one more thing. Look at him. Tell me if he's wearing a blue jewel—"
But Vickie was whipping her head back and forth, sobbing, more hysterical each second. "No! No! I'm next! I'm next!" Suddenly, her eyes sprang open as she came out of the trance by herself, choking and gasping. Then her head jerked around.
On the wall, a picture was rattling.
It was picked up by the bamboo-framed mirror, then by perfume bottles and lipsticks on the dresser below. With a sound like popcorn, earrings began bursting from an earring tree. The rattling got louder and louder. A straw hat fell off a hook. Photos were showering down from the mirror. Tapes and CDs sprayed out of a rack and onto the floor like playing cards being dealt.
Meredith was on her feet and so was Matt, fists clenched.
"Make it stop! Make it stop!" Vickie cried wildly.
But it didn't stop. Matt and Meredith looked around as new objects joined the dance. Everything movable was shaking, jittering, swaying. It was as if the room were caught in an earthquake.
"Stop! Stop!" shrieked Vickie, her hands over her ears.
Directly above the house thunder exploded.
Bonnie jumped violently as she saw the zigzag of lightning shoot across the sky. Instinctively she grabbed for something to hang on to. As the lightning bolt flared a poster on Vickie's wall tore diagonally as if slashed by a phantom knife. Bonnie choked back a scream and clutched tighter.
Then, as quickly as if someone had flicked a power switch off, all the noise stopped.
Vickie's room was still. The fringe on the bedside lamp swayed slightly. The poster had curled up in two irregular pieces, top and bottom. Slowly, Vickie lowered her hands from her ears.
Matt and Meredith looked around rather shakily.
Bonnie shut her eyes and murmured something like a prayer. It wasn't until she opened them again that she realized what she had been hanging on to. It was the supple coolness of a leather jacket. It was Damon's arm.
He hadn't moved away from her, though. He didn't move now. He was leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowed, watching the room intently.
"Look at the mirror," he said.
Everyone did, and Bonnie drew in her breath, fingers clenching again. She hadn't seen it, but it must have happened while everything in the room was going berserk.
On the glass surface of the bamboo mirror two words were scrawled in Vickie's hot coral lipstick.
Goodnight, Sweetheart.
"Oh, God," Bonnie whispered.
Stefan turned from the mirror to Vickie. There was something different about him, Bonnie thought—he was holding himself relaxed but poised, like a soldier who's just gotten confirmation of a battle. It was as if he'd accepted a personal challenge of some kind.
He took something out of his back pocket and unfolded it, revealing sprigs of a plant with long green leaves and tiny lilac flowers.
"This is vervain, fresh vervain," he said quietly, his voice even and intense. "I picked it outside Florence; it's blooming there now." He took Vickie's hand and pressed the packet into it. "I want you to hold on to this and keep it. Put some in every room of the house, and hide pieces somewhere in your parents' clothes if you can, so they'll have it near them. As long as you have this with you, he can't take over your mind. He can scare you, Vickie, but he can't make you do anything, like open a window or door for him. And listen, Vickie, because this is important."
Vickie was shivering, her face crumpled. Stefan took both her hands and made her look at him, speaking slowly and distinctly.
"If I'm right, Vickie, he can't get in unless you let him. So talk to your parents. Tell them it's important that they don't ask any stranger inside the house. In fact, I can have Damon put that suggestion in their mind right now." He glanced at Damon, who shrugged slightly and nodded, looking as if his attention was somewhere else. Self-consciously, Bonnie removed her hand from his jacket.
Vickie's head was bent over the vervain.
"He'll get in somehow," she said softly, with terrible certainty.
"No. Vickie, listen to me. From now on, we're going to watch your house; we're going to be waiti
ng for him."
"It doesn't matter," Vickie said. "You can't stop him." She began to laugh and cry at the same time.
"We're going to try," Stefan said. He looked at Meredith and Matt, who nodded. "Right. From this moment on, you will never be alone. There will always be one or more of us outside watching you."
Vickie just shook her bent head. Meredith gave her arm a squeeze and stood as Stefan tilted his head toward the window.
When she and Matt joined him there, Stefan spoke to all of them in a low voice. "I don't want to leave her unguarded, but I can't stay myself right now. There's something I have to do, and I need one of the girls with me. On the other hand, I don't want to leave either Bonnie or Meredith alone here." He turned to Matt. "Matt, will you…"
"I'll stay," said Damon.
Everyone looked at him, startled.
"Well, it's the logical solution, isn't it?" Damon seemed amused. "After all, what do you expect one of them to do against him anyway?"
"They can call for me. I can monitor their thoughts that far," Stefan said, not giving one inch.
"Well," Damon said whimsically, "I can call for you too, little brother, if I get into trouble. I'm getting bored with this investigation of yours anyway. I might as well stay here as anywhere."
"Vickie needs to be protected, not abused," Stefan said.
Damon's smile was charming. "Her?" He nodded toward the girl who sat on the bed, rocking over the vervain. From disheveled hair to bare feet, Vickie was not a pretty picture. "Take my word for it, brother, I can do better than that." For just an instant Bonnie thought those dark eyes flicked sideways toward her. "You're always saying how you'd like to trust me, anyway," Damon added. "Here's your chance to prove it."
Stefan looked as if he wanted to trust, as if he were tempted. He also looked suspicious. Damon said nothing, merely smiled in that taunting, enigmatic way. Practically asking to be mistrusted, Bonnie thought.
The two brothers stood looking at each other while the silence and the tension stretched out between them. Just then Bonnie could see the family resemblance in their faces, one serious and intense, the other bland and faintly mocking, but both inhumanly beautiful.
