Origins

by L. J. Smith

  Finally, we began to hear sounds of flutes playing and laughter and the occasional gunshot. Damon directed us up over a hill toward a clearing. Tents were set up all over, and a piper played in the corner. Men were walking around, and dogs were stationed at the entrance. It was as if we’d arrived at a mysterious, hidden party.

  “Hello, sir?” Two Confederate soldiers came up to us, their rifles pointed toward us. Mezzanotte took a few steps back and whinnied nervously.

  “Soldier Damon Salvatore, sir! Here on leave from General Groom’s camp down in Atlanta.”

  Immediately, the two soldiers relaxed their rifles and tipped their hats at us.

  “Sorry ’bout that, soldier. We’re gearin’ up for battle, and we’re losing our men like flies, before they even hit the battlefield,” the taller soldier said, stepping up to pat Jake.

  “Yes, and not because of typhus,” the other, smaller, mustachioed soldier said, obviously pleased to share this information with us.

  “Killings?” Damon asked tersely.

  “How’d you know?” the first guard asked, stroking his rifle. I glanced at the ground, unsure what to do. I felt that Damon was getting us into a dangerous situation, but I didn’t know what I could do to fix it.

  “My brother and I are coming from Mystic Falls,” Damon said, jerking his thumb back as if to prove that was the direction we came from. “The next town over, past the forest. We’ve had some of our own trouble. People are saying it’s some type of animal.”

  “Not unless it’s an animal that only goes for the throat and leaves the rest of the body untouched,” the mustachioed soldier said knowledgeably, his tiny eyes flicking back and forth between us.

  “Hmm,” Damon said, sounding suddenly uninterested. But then he changed the subject. “Any good games of poker going on tonight?”

  “Right there in that clearing by the oak trees.” The small soldier pointed a little ways off into the distance.

  “Have a good evening, then. I thank you for your help,” Damon said with exaggerated politeness. We walked in the direction the soldier pointed, until Damon stopped abruptly at a small circle of soldiers, huddled around a fire and playing cards.

  “Hello! Soldier Damon Salvatore on leave from General Groom’s boys,” Damon said confidently as he slid off his horse and glanced around the faces lit up by the campfire. “This is my brother, Stefan. Can we be dealt in?”

  One ginger-haired soldier glanced at an older, grand-fatherly type whose arm was in a sling. He shrugged and gestured for us to sit on one of the logs set up around the fire. “Don’t see why not.”

  Adrenaline seeped through my veins as we settled down and took our hands. Mine was good: two aces and a king. I immediately threw in some rumpled notes from my pocket, making a bet with myself. If I won money, then everything would be fine with Katherine. And if I didn’t, then … well, I didn’t want to think about it.

  “All in,” I said confidently.

  After we settled the game, I wasn’t surprised to emerge as the victor. I smiled as I took the pile of money and carefully put it in my pocket. I grinned in relief, finally feeling sure in my love for Katherine. I imagined what Katherine would say. Smart Stefan, maybe. Savvy Stefan. Or maybe she’d simply laugh, showing her white teeth, and allow me to take her into my arms and twirl her around and around the room….

  We played several more hands after that, during which I lost the money I had won, but I didn’t care. The first hand had been the test, and now my heart and mind felt remarkably light.

  “What are you thinking?” Damon asked, taking a flask from his pocket. He held it toward me, and I took a long swig.

  The whiskey burned going down my throat, but I still craved more. It didn’t seem that any of the other soldiers were up for another hand. The five we were playing with had drifted off to chew tobacco, drink more whiskey, or tearfully talk about their sweethearts back home.

  “Come on, brother, you can tell me,” Damon encouraged. He took the flask, swigged from it, then passed it back toward me.

  I took another, deeper drink and paused. Should I tell him? Any hesitation I had earlier had disappeared. After all, he was my brother. “Well, I was thinking about how different Katherine is than any other girl I’ve met …,” I began evasively. I knew I was treading into dangerous territory, but part of me was dying to know whether Damon also knew Katherine’s secret. I took another sip of whiskey and coughed.

  “How’s she different?” Damon asked, a smile curving on his lips.

  “Well, I mean she’s not,” I said, sobering up as I frantically tried to backtrack. “I just meant that I noticed that she is—”

  “That she’s a vampire?” Damon interrupted.

  My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked. I glanced around nervously. People were drinking, laughing, counting their winnings.

  But Damon was simply sitting there, the same smile on his lips. I couldn’t understand how he was smiling. And then a new, darker thought appeared in my mind. How did Damon know that Katherine was who she was? Had she told him? And had it been the same way, in the misty predawn, in bed? I shuddered.

  “So she’s a vampire. What of it? She’s still Katherine.” Damon turned to look at me, urgency in his dark-brown eyes. “And you won’t say anything to Father. He’s half crazy as it is,” Damon said as he scuffed his boot against the ground.

  “How did you find out?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  Suddenly, a shot was fired.

  “Soldier down!” a uniformed boy who looked to be about fourteen yelled as he charged from tent to tent. “Soldier down! Attack! Out into the woods!”

  Damon’s face paled. “I need to help. You, little brother, go home.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, feeling torn and suddenly frightened.

  Damon nodded tersely. “If Father asks, I drank too much at the saloon and am sleeping it off somewhere.”

  Another shot was fired, and Damon took off into the woods, blending into the sea of soldiers.

  “Go!” Damon yelled. I ran in the opposite direction to the now-abandoned camp and dug my heels into Mezzanotte, whispering in her velvety ears and imploring her to go faster.

  Mezzanotte rode through the forest faster than she ever had before; once across the Wickery Bridge, she turned, as if she knew exactly how to head home. But then she reared and whinnied. I held on with my thighs and saw a shadowy figure with golden-brown hair, arm-in-arm with another girl.

  I stiffened. No women would be out after dark unaccompanied by a man in the best of circumstances, but definitely not in these times. Not with the vampire attacks.

  The face turned, and in the reflection on the water I saw a pale, pointed face. Katherine. She was escorting little Anna from the apothecary. All I could see were the dark vines of Anna’s curls, bouncing over her shoulders.

  “Katherine!” I yelled from the horse, with a strength I did not know I possessed. Now, instead of wanting to hold her, I wanted to use my arms to restrain her, to make her stop carrying out the awful thing she was about to do. I felt bile rise in my throat as I imagined finding a jagged branch and ramming it into her chest.

  Katherine didn’t turn around. She held Anna’s shoulders tighter and led her into the forest. I kicked Mezzanotte hard on the flanks, the wind whipping against my face as I desperately tried to catch up with them.

  19

  I galloped through the woods, kicking Mezzanotte to jump over logs, to dash through underbrush, anything to make sure I didn’t lose sight of Katherine and Anna. How could I have trusted Katherine? How could I have thought I loved her? I should have killed her when I had the chance. If I didn’t catch up to them, Anna’s blood would be on my hands, too. Just as Rosalyn’s was.

  We reached an uprooted tree and Mezzanotte reared up, sending me tumbling backward onto the forest floor. I felt a sharp stab as my temple cracked against a stone. The wind was knocked out of me, and I fought for breath, knowing it was only a matter of time b
efore Katherine would kill Anna and then finish me off.

  I felt gentle, ice-cold hands lifting me up to a sitting position.

  “No …,” I gasped. The act of breathing hurt. My breeches were ripped, and I had a large gash on my knee. Blood flowed freely from my temple.

  Katherine knelt beside me, using the sleeve of her dress to stave off the bleeding. I noticed her licking her lips, then mashing them firmly together. “You’re hurt,” she said softly, continuing to apply pressure to my wound. I pushed myself away from her, but Katherine clasped my shoulder, holding me in place.

  “Don’t worry. Remember. You have my heart,” Katherine said, holding my gaze with hers. Wordlessly, I nodded. If death was to come, I hoped it would come quickly. Sure enough, Katherine bared her teeth, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the agonizing ecstasy of her teeth against my neck.

  But nothing came. Instead, I felt her cold skin near my mouth.

  “Drink,” Katherine commanded, and I saw a thin gash in her delicate white skin. Blood was trickling from the cut as though through a brook after a rainstorm. I was repulsed and tried to turn my head away, but Katherine held on to the back of my neck. “Trust me. It will help.”

  Slowly, fearfully, I allowed my lips to touch the liquid. Immediately I felt warmth run down my throat. I continued to drink until Katherine pulled her arm away.

  “That’s enough,” she murmured, holding her palm over the wound. “Now, how do you feel?” She sat back on her heels and surveyed me.

  How did I feel? I touched my leg, my temple. Everything felt smooth. Healed.

  “You did that,” I said incredulously.

  “I did.” Katherine stood up and brushed her hands together. I noticed her wound, too, was now completely healed. “Now tell me why I had to heal you. What are you doing in the forest? You know it’s not safe,” she said, concern belying her chiding tone.

  “You …. Anna,” I murmured, feeling sluggish and sleepy, as one might feel after a long, wine-infused dinner. I blinked at my surroundings. Mezzanotte was hitched to a tree, and Anna was sitting on a branch, hugging her knees to her chest and watching us. Instead of terror, Anna’s face was full of confusion as she looked from me, to Katherine, then back to me.

  “Stefan, Anna is one of my friends,” Katherine said simply.

  “Does Stefan … know?” Anna asked curiously, whispering as if I wasn’t standing three feet from her.

  “We can trust him,” Katherine said, nodding definitively.

  I cleared my throat, and both girls looked at me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked finally.

  “Meeting,” Katherine said, gesturing to the clearing.

  “Stefan Salvatore,” a throaty voice said. I whirled around and saw a third figure emerge from the shadows. Almost without thinking, I held up the vervain from my breast pocket, which looked as useless as a daisy clutched in my hand.

  “Stefan Salvatore,” I heard again. I glanced wildly between Anna and Katherine, but their facial expressions were impossible to read. An owl hooted, and I pressed my fist into my mouth to keep from screaming.

  “It’s okay, Mama. He knows,” Anna called to the shadows.

  Mama. So that meant Pearl was also a vampire. But how could she be? She was the apothecary, the one who was supposed to heal the sick, not tear out human throats with her teeth. Then again, Katherine had healed me, and she hadn’t torn out my throat.

  Pearl emerged from between the trees, her gaze tightening on me. “How do we know he’s safe?” she asked suspiciously, in a voice that was much more ominous than the polite tone she used at her apothecary.

  “He is,” Katherine said, smiling sweetly as she gently touched my arm. I shivered and clutched the vervain, Cordelia’s words echoing in my head. This herb could stop the devil. But what if we’d all gotten it wrong, and vampires like Katherine weren’t devils but angels? What then?

  “Drop the vervain,” Katherine said. I looked into her large, cat-like eyes and dropped the plant to the forest floor. Immediately, Katherine used the tip of her boot to cover it with pine needles and leaves.

  “Stefan, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” Katherine laughed, turning toward me. But her laughter wasn’t mean. Instead, it sounded melodic and musical and slightly sad. I collapsed onto a gnarled tree root. I noticed my leg was shaking and held my hands firmly against my knee, which was now completely smooth, as if the fall had never happened. Katherine took the motion as an invitation for her to perch on my knee. She sat and looked down on me, running her hands through my hair.

  “Now, Katherine, he doesn’t look like he’s seen a ghost. He’s seen vampires. Three of them.” I glanced up at Pearl as if I were an obedient schoolboy and she were my schoolmarm. She sat down on a nearby rock slab, and Anna perched next to her, suddenly looking much younger than her fourteen years. But, of course, if Anna was a vampire, then that meant she wasn’t fourteen at all. My brain spun, and I felt a momentary wave of dizziness. Katherine patted the back of my neck, and I began to breathe easier.

  “Okay, Stefan,” Pearl said as she rested her chin on her steepled fingers and gazed at me. “First of all, I need you to remember that Anna and I are your neighbors, and your friends. Can you remember that?”

  I was transfixed by her gaze. Pearl then smiled a curious half smile. “Good,” she exhaled.

  I nodded dumbly, too overwhelmed to think, let alone speak.

  “We were living in South Carolina right after the war,” Pearl began.

  “After the war?” I asked, before I could stop myself.

  Anna giggled, and Pearl cracked a tiny sliver of a smile. “The War of Independence,” Pearl explained briefly. “We were lucky during the war. All safe, all sound, all a family.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. “My husband ran a small apothecary when a wave of consumption hit town. Everyone was affected—my husband, my two sons, my baby daughter. Within a week, they were dead.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Could I say I was sorry for something that had happened so long ago?

  “And then Anna began coughing. And I knew I couldn’t lose her, too. My heart would break, but it was more than that,” Pearl said, shaking her head as if caught in her own world. “I knew my soul and my spirit would break. And then I met Katherine.”

  I glanced toward Katherine. She looked so young, so innocent. I glanced away before she could look at me.

  “Katherine was different,” Pearl said. “She arrived in town mysteriously, without relatives, but she immediately became part of society.”

  I nodded, wondering who, then, was killed in the Atlanta fire that brought Katherine to Mystic Falls. But I didn’t ask, waiting for Pearl to continue her story.

  She cleared her throat. “Still, there was something about her that was unusual. All the ladies and I talked about it. She was beautiful, of course, but there was something else. Something otherworldly. Some called her an angel. But then she never got sick, not during the cold seasons, and not when the consumption began in town. There were certain herbs she wouldn’t touch in the apothecary. Charleston was a small town then. People talked.”

  Pearl reached for her daughter’s hand. “Anna would have died,” Pearl continued. “That’s what the doctor said. I was desperate for a cure, wracked with grief and feeling so helpless. Here I was, a woman surrounded by medicine, unable to help my daughter live.” Pearl shook her head in disgust.

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  “I asked Katherine one day if she knew of anything that could be done. And as soon as I asked, I knew she did. There was something in her eyes that changed. But she still took a few minutes of silence before she responded and then—”

  “Pearl brought Anna to my chambers one night,” Katherine interjected.

  “She saved me,” Anna said in a soft voice. “Mother too.”

  “And that’s how we ended up here. We couldn’t stay in Charleston forever, never growing
old,” Pearl explained. “Of course, soon we’ll have to move again. That’s the way it goes. We’re gypsies, navigating between Richmond and Atlanta and all the towns in between. And now we have another war to deal with. Seeing so much history really proves to us that some things never do change,” Pearl said, smiling ruefully. “But there are worse ways to pass the time.”

  “I like it here,” Anna admitted. “That’s why I’m scared we’ll be sent away.” She said that last part as a whisper, and something about her tone made me achingly sad.

  I thought of the meeting I’d attended that afternoon. If Father had his way, they wouldn’t be sent away, they’d be killed.

  “The attacks?” I asked finally. It had been the one question that had been nagging at me ever since Katherine’s confession. Because if she didn’t do it, then who … ?

  Pearl shook her head. “Remember, we’re your neighbors and friends. It wasn’t us. We never would behave like that.”

  “Never,” Anna parroted, shaking her head fearfully, as though she were being accused.

  “But some of our tribe have,” Pearl said darkly.

  Katherine’s eyes hardened. “But it’s not just we or the other vampires who are causing trouble. Of course, that’s who everyone blames, but no one seems to remember that there’s a war going on with untold bloodshed. All people care about are vampires.” Hearing Damon’s words in Katherine’s mouth was like a bucket of cold water in my face, a reminder that I wasn’t the only person in Katherine’s universe.

  “Who are the other vampires?” I asked gruffly.

  “It’s our community, and we will take care of it,” Pearl said firmly. She stood up, then walked across the clearing, her feet crunching on the ground until she stood above me. “Stefan, I’ve told you the story and now here are the facts: We need blood to live. But we don’t need it from humans,” Pearl said, as if she were explaining to one of her customers how an herb worked. “We can get it from animals. But, like humans, some of us don’t have self-control, and some of us attack people. It’s really not that much different from a rogue soldier, is it?”