The Vampire Diaries: Evensong: Paradise Lost

by L. J. Smith

  There was something he had to know, though. He squeezed Elena’s hand to keep himself from spontaneously combusting, stood, and bent to kiss her forehead chastely. Her skin was warm against his lips; she was certainly back to her proper temperature. Damon looked into her great luminous lapis eyes, and said, “Excuse me for just a moment, princess, and I’ll bring you a nice hot cup of tea.”

  When he stepped back he took in all the doctors with a glance, and encased them in a coil of Influence. With each hour that passes you will become more convinced that Elena’s mystery will never be deciphered, he told them silently. And meanwhile, you need to go back to your own departments. Now . . . leave!

  He didn’t stay to hear his own words repeated in different tones and tenors. He walked with a measured stride back to the waiting room.

  Where, of course, everyone was actually waiting. Eight pairs of eyes lifted to his as he returned; their expressions ranging from inscrutable (Mrs. Flowers) to quivering with tears on lashes (Bonnie). He had to say something.

  “If you’re expecting me to make a speech, I’m not,” he said, adding a winsome expression to fool them into thinking he was being modest instead of indifferent. “You’d do a lot better to just go in and see Elena. She’s doing very well. I just came out to get her a cup of hot tea.”

  Muted chaos broke out. Matt ran over to shadow box Damon, who was seriously not into the play. Bonnie let her tears overflow, clasping her hands together like a child at prayer, until Meredith grabbed her up in a hug. Aunt Judith and Robert sagged together in a shower of used tissues. Dr. Alpert hefted Margaret high into the air. Only Mrs. Flowers sat quite still at the coffee table in the back of the room.

  Damon approached the old woman and spoke lightly. “May I collect on that nice cuppa, then, ma’am?”

  “Of course—if Elena really wants it. It will do her a world of good.”

  Damon immediately determined that under no circumstances would he actually give the tea to Elena. But he kept an open, friendly look on his face as Mrs. Flowers fluttered a thermos out of her bag, and then fluttered it open and fluttered a stream of steaming red liquid into a Styrofoam cup.

  Meanwhile Damon was chatting casually with Bonnie and Meredith, only resisting their attempts to draw him into a group hug. “The doctors were close to admitting that they simply couldn’t explain what happened to Elena. Neither how she got sick, nor how she got better so fast after the transfusion.”

  “I just hope it never happens again,” Meredith said, giving him one of those steady, trusting, gray-eyed looks she had always turned on Stefan. Fancy that: Meredith, talking to him like an equal!

  “I hope it never happens again, too,” Damon said with truthful emphasis. He turned to Bonnie, struck by a sudden whim. “You were the one so interested in druids and palm-reading last year, weren’t you? Well, do you think anything . . . supernatural . . . could have done this to Elena? I mean”—he lowered his voice—“like some kind of . . . witchcraft or something?”

  Bonnie stared at him a moment, wide-eyed. And for just an instant Damon began to panic: maybe Stefan had set them up with code words that would release them from all their conditioning. Maybe “witch” was one of those words. Maybe this entire scenario was Stefan’s way of getting revenge.

  Bonnie burst into laughter. She tapped Damon’s forearm with her fan—no, it was her fingertips, but it really ought to have been a fan, held by a genuine old-fashioned Virginia belle—and her brown eyes danced in the light.

  “Oh, you!” she said to Damon. “You know perfectly well there are no such things as witches! You’ll be talking about werewolves and vampires next!”

  Even Meredith cracked up at this. And Mrs. Flower’s high, flutelike laughter sounded above all the rest.

  * * *

  Elena felt that the stream of doctors who came to goggle at her and ask rude questions would never end. She had begun to think of some rude standard answers when the flow finally abated. An authoritative ICU nurse told her to rest.

  “But I don’t feel like resting,” Elena said to Meredith and Bonnie. She bounced slightly on her hospital bed. “I feel like getting up and going to my afternoon classes.”

  “You,” Bonnie informed her kindly, “are nuts.”

  “But I’m going to get behind in Algebra, and be even more confused than ever. And I need to do homework for Nonfiction and Memoir Writing. How can I do homework here?”

  “Well, I’ll miss Trig and Micro-Economics today,” Meredith said, her lip quirking, “but I wouldn’t be anywhere else for the world.”

  “Me either,” Bonnie offered. “Even if Elena and I both flunk Algebra-for-Dummies.”

  Elena gave her two friends a loving look. “Come here, both of you,” she said, holding out her free right hand, and pulling Meredith close to the bed. Meredith snagged Bonnie, who leaned in to touch Elena’s other hand. The three girls formed a rough triangle.

  “I don’t know what happened to me last night,” Elena said, “but I know I’d never have survived it without my friends. How can I thank you?”

  “By getting well as soon as possible,” Meredith said earnestly. Bonnie scrambled up over the railing onto the bed’s flat lower half. She perched there, light as any elf, but she looked sober. “And by never making us go through what we did last night, right, Meredith?”

  “I didn’t get some strange disease just to annoy you,” Elena said, laughing.

  “And,” Bonnie said her mood turning one-hundred-and-eighty degrees around, “by throwing us a ginormous ‘I’m-well’ party when you’re all better again!”

  “Bonnie!” scolded Meredith, but Elena was already giggling and saying “Of course! It’s the least I can do for you after all your worry.”

  “We’ll have the time of our lives—just in case we end up dead the next day,” Bonnie said serenely. “Romantic theme, huh?”

  “Oh, charming,” Meredith said grimly. “Now can we drop it?” Her dark eyes were fixed on Bonnie’s. Elena felt something heavy hanging in the air between them.

  “What is it?” she said, and when neither girl answered, she said, “No, I mean, really; I want to know.”

  “It’s nothing to fret about,” Meredith said gently.

  Bonnie climbed back off the bed, looking subdued again, and Elena realized that her cheer had been forced. “What?” she demanded. She knew that Meredith couldn’t be compelled to answer any question she had decided was better left alone; the tall, olive-skinned girl with gray eyes was as stubborn as Elena—almost. Bonnie, on the other hand . . .

  “Bonnie!” Elena said quickly, plaintively. “If you know something about me, about my health, that I don’t know, it’s only fair to tell me. Did you call Mary?” Bonnie’s older sister Mary was a nurse.

  Bonnie glanced at her sideways. Her brown eyes, already swollen, were filling with new tears.

  “Yes, but the doctors here know better—and you’re all right now. Anyone can see that.”

  “Maybe, but she told you something, didn’t she? Is it a disease? Is this just the beginning of something awful?” Elena felt a chilly wind; they kept the ICU so cold. She could ring for the nurse and ask for another heated blanket, but she didn’t want to be a bother, and anyway, she couldn’t let Bonnie slip off the hook. “Please just tell me,” she said, trying to sound well-balanced and ready to handle anything but hearing the quaver in her own voice. “I mean, I’m not dying or anything, right?” She forced a laugh.

  “Yes, you are.”

  Shocked and frozen, Elena tried to make sense of the words that Bonnie had just spoken. She could still hear them in the echo chambers of her mind, but her body seemed far away and she could barely chart her emotional response.

  She heard herself make a tiny, involuntary noise.

  “Bonnie!” Meredith exploded. She and Elena both found themselves staring at the back of Bonnie’s curly head. The room lights had been dimmed ever since the doctors had finished doing their rounds. The strawberry glow of Bonni
e’s hair had dimmed, too, and her small body seemed oddly stiff. She had retreated so she faced the corner of the room like a child being punished.

  “Everyone in this room is going to die,” she intoned. “But Elena will be the first.”

  “Bonnie! Turn around and apologize to Elena this instant!” Meredith cried. Elena wanted to say, “Don’t tell her to turn around,” but her vocal cords were paralyzed along with the rest of her.

  Slowly, Bonnie turned, both small hands raised so that they were covering her face in a way that looked more playful than ashamed.

  Elena felt a wave of irrational terror. It was all she could do not to scream.

  Her mind was whirling like a dust-devil. I don’t want to see, I don’t want to see. . . .

  “Bonnie,” breathed Meredith, and for the first time Elena thought that she could detect a hint of fear in the way she spoke to their friend. Elena herself felt as if she had been plunged into a nightmare. She couldn’t bear the way the moment was stretching out, she couldn’t stand any more heightening of the tension. . . .

  And then it was gone. Something darkened the doorway and Damon walked into the shrouded space.

  “What’s up?” he said, and then quickly, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Elena replied automatically, but her hand reached out toward him of its own volition. Damon took it, turned it, and planted a kiss in the palm.

  Elena blushed and laughed a little, but she squeezed his fingers tightly and was comforted when he squeezed back. As long as Damon was close, she would be fine, she knew.

  Damon released her and turned to Bonnie. “And what are we doing now? Is this Peek-a-boo?” As he spoke, he put his hands over Bonnie’s and then gently pulled them away from her face.

  “No—” began Meredith and Elena realized that she was still afraid. Elena herself had a breathless moment until she saw that Bonnie’s features were all present and correct and that the only oddity was that Bonnie’s eyes were shut.

  “Now, then, little redbird,” Damon said. “It’s autumn and time to fly south where it’s warm. But you need your eyes open to fly—I promise. One, and two, and three!” As he said the last word, he blew softly on Bonnie’s eyelids. There was a quiver of lashes and then there was Bonnie staring at them out of her soul-filled brown eyes.

  “Well, that wasn’t nice at all!” she said querulously.

  “What wasn’t nice?” Meredith demanded. “You just—”

  Bonnie hadn’t finished talking, “Saying ‘turn around and cover your eyes and then you’ll have a nice surprise,’ and then turning off all the lights! You scared me!”

  “We scared you?” Meredith began, but then she stopped and frowned. “Bonnie, what do you mean, saying ‘turn around and cover your—’ ”

  “And then blowing ice-cold air on my neck—how did you do that? Do they have dry ice in hospitals?” Bonnie was feeling the back of her neck and looking angry and frightened at once.

  “Bonnie,” Elena said. “It was Damon who blew on you—and he blew on your eyelids! And I’m sure it wasn’t cold, except that this whole place is cold, right, Damon?”

  For answer, Damon took her hand again and blew warm breath on her fingers, making her bite down on a giggle. Damon had a slight, mischievous smile on his face, and that made Elena laugh aloud. It even melted Meredith and made her chuckle. And when Damon raised his eyebrows at Meredith and cocked his head toward Bonnie, Meredith nodded. She would take care of Bonnie, just as she always did.

  “Come on, kiddo,” she said, “let’s leave the lovebirds alone. We’re going back—oh, Matt!”

  She had almost walked into Matt who was entering the room with a cardboard rack full of large Starbucks coffee cups.

  “Please tell me not house blend,” Meredith added, looking over the array.

  “Are you kidding? I’m no poisoner. I’ve got double cappuccinos and hot cocoas—depends on whether you want a jolt awake or a warm hug goodnight.” He looked at Elena. “First choice goes to the patient.”

  “Oh, a hug, a hug,” Elena said eagerly. “But only if it comes with a real hug, too,” she added, and got a strong-armed squeeze from Matt while Meredith held the cups. She then accepted a hot, fragrant cup of cocoa, made just the way she liked it, with a touch of vanilla syrup.

  “Nothing for me,” Damon said. “I plan to hold hands with Elena if I can manage without hurting her and see if I can’t sing her to sleep.”

  “Good idea,” Bonnie said. She seemed to have forgotten her earlier grievance completely. “I’ll take a cocoa, too, if that’s okay. And a big hug.” She almost disappeared in the fair-haired boy’s arms.

  “As for me, I crave caffeine,” said Meredith. “I’ve got to read my English assignment from Everything’s an Argument, and I’d like some java before I learn about jousting with words. Of course, I’ll pay the price, as well.”

  Matt gave her a cup and collected a kiss on the cheek. “You sure, Damon?” he offered as he stopped in the doorway. “I’ve still got both kinds and I promise not to charge for either.”

  “Thanks—uh, Matt,” Damon said. “But, here, I’ll show you something if you won’t tell the nurses.” He pulled his sleek hipflask partially out of his jeans’ pocket. “Here’s my poison,” he finished, flashing a smile around the room. “Just the ticket for holding hands—or anything else.”

  “I’ll bet,” Meredith said archly. “Well, keep in touch.”

  “Especially if anything changes.” A serious note had crept into Matt’s voice.

  “You know it,” Damon promised.

  “Ohh . . .” Elena took a long drink from her cup when they were gone. “We didn’t even get our velociraptor sisterhood hug, and now it’s too late.”

  “Not if you want me to run and get them back here.”

  “No—oh, Damon, you’re so good to me—but, no, no,” Elena said. “Besides, it would have been a little bit weird, anyway. I have to tell you about what happened with Bonnie.”

  “No, you don’t. I was right at the door, just behind the curtains. I heard everything and saw pretty much everything, too.”

  “She scared me half to death, saying that I was going to die.”

  “I know. Although, technically, I suppose she was right: everyone who was in the room is going to die . . . eventually.”

  “But she said I’d die first. And her voice when she said it—and the way she seemed to have heard someone talking to her, saying something completely different. It was just so strange—”

  “Says the girl with the disappearing blood.” Damon shook his head. “I think Bonnie was under incredible emotional stress last night, and that she probably didn’t get any decent sleep. Add to that the fact that she’s a skittish little filly—”

  “Or a sweet little red bird?”

  “Ah, you caught that, did you? Jealous?”

  “Not until you tell me you prefer her.”

  “Oh, my lovely love. My angel with hair like sunlight, and the spirit of a questing tiger. My princess of—”

  “Ha-hem,” Robert half-coughed at the door of the ICU room.

  Damon, who had been bending, slowly, toward Elena’s lips, now quickly raised his head. He became the soul of courtesy.

  “I’m so sorry; of course you and Elena’s aunt want to speak to her. Maybe even to stay with her for a while? Here’s a chair.” He smiled at Elena’s aunt, who—to Elena’s amusement—put a hand up to smooth her hair.

  “Margaret’s fast asleep, and we’re going to take her back home,” she said. “We’d just like a moment alone with Elena.” Damon stepped out of the room with a little half-wave at Elena.

  Aunt Judith came over to kiss Elena’s cheek. “The doctors need to keep you for a little while to finish your treatment and their tests—and to make sure you’re really as healthy as you seem to be. I’ll be back with pajamas and a toothbrush and so on in an hour or so.”

  Elena laughed. “Oh, no. You’ll go home and get some sleep. Damon will get my t
hings from my dorm room.” She laughed again at Aunt Judith’s expression, but said as gently as possible, “I’m keeping my promise to you—honestly. But Damon can find some sweats for me to wear. He knows his way around a dresser.”

  “But you still need—”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t need anything, Aunt Judith, except a biiiig hug. Thank you. And one from Robert. And one from Margaret.”

  “Oh, I thought you were asleep,” Aunt Judith said as the five-year-old went to stand by Elena’s bed, looking like a little pajama-clad spirit with her hair shining like a torch. Robert lifted her up so she could hug Elena.

  “They’re still putting, um, medicines into me,” Elena explained, looking at her left arm with the IV in it, and the bags of fluids hanging above.

  “Medicine and blood,” Margaret said. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dewy with sleep. “Blood’s important,” she said solemnly, looking into Elena’s eyes.

  “Yes, blood is important,” Elena said, taken aback. She wished adults would be more careful what they said in front of her baby sister.

  “And hair’s important, too,” Margaret said, causing Elena to glance up at her quickly. Margaret produced a full-sized hairbrush from her Pegasus Unicorn backpack. Elena could see that she had books and her little kiddy computer inside.

  “I didn’t put that in!” Aunt Judith exclaimed, staring at the hairbrush.

  “No, the tea lady gave it to me. She said it was for Elena. Elena, I brought Missus Kissus, too. Here.”

  “Oh, sweetie, that’s so nice of you. But I want her to stay with you tonight, and every time you hug her I’ll feel it. Okay?”

  “Well . . . okay.” Margaret looked relieved.

  Aunt Judith was looking over her shoulder. “I do wish,” she said nervously to Elena, “that Damon hadn’t invited his old landlady to come here. Dr. Alpert is one thing, and makes sense given the situation, but that scatterbrained old woman—”

  “Mrs. Flowers!” Elena cried in genuine pleasure. “Is she here? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Please have her come in to say hello.”