The Return: Midnight tvd-7

by Лиза Джейн Смит

  Elena didn’t want this to turn into a pi — that was, a…snarling match.

  As the sheriff gabbled to his partner, “We may need some of them silver bullets after all,” Elena poked her beloved, who was now making a noise like a very big buzz saw that she could feel in her teeth, and whispered, “Stefan, Influence him!

  The other one’s coming, and she may already have called for backup.”

  At her touch, Stefan stopped making the sound, and when he turned she could see his face changing from that of a savage animal baring its teeth back to his own dear, green-eyed self. He must have taken a lot of blood from Meredith, she thought, with a flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  But there was no denying the after-effects. Stefan turned back to the male sheriff and said crisply, “You will go into the front hallway. You will remain there, silent, until I tell you to move or speak.” Then, without looking up to see if the officer was obeying or not, he tucked the blankets more tightly around Meredith.

  Elena was watching the sheriff, though, and she noticed that he didn’t hesitate an instant. He made an about-face and marched off to the front foyer.

  Then Elena felt safe enough to look at Meredith again. She couldn’t find anything wrong in her friend’s face, except her unnatural pallor, and those violet shadows around her eyes.

  “Meredith?” she whispered.

  No response. Elena followed Stefan out of the room.

  She had just made it to the foyer when the female sheriff ambushed them.

  Coming down the stairs, pushing the fragile Mrs. Flowers before her, she shouted, “On the ground! All of you!” She gave Mrs. Flowers a hard shove forward. “Get down now!”

  When Mrs. Flowers almost fell sprawling on the floor, Stefan leaped and caught her, and then turned back to the other woman. For a moment Elena thought that he would snarl again, but instead, in a voice tight with self-control, he said, “Join your partner. You can’t move or speak without my permission.”

  He took the shaken-looking Mrs. Flowers to a chair on the left side of the foyer.

  “Did that — person — hurt you?”

  “No, no. Just get them out of my house, Stefan, dear, and I’ll be most grateful,” Mrs. Flowers replied.

  “Done,” Stefan said softly. “I’m sorry we’ve caused you so much trouble — in your own home.” He looked at each of the sheriffs, his eyes piercing. “Go away and don’t come back. You have searched the house, but none of the people you were looking for were here. You think further surveillance will yield nothing. You believe that you would do more good by helping the — what was it? Oh, yes, the mayhem in the town of Fell’s Church. You will never come here again. Now go back to your car and leave.”

  Elena felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She could feel the Power behind Stefan’s words.

  And, as always, it was satisfying to see cruel or angry people become docile under the power of a vampire’s Influence. These two stood for another ten seconds quite still, and then they simply walked out the front door.

  Elena listened to the sound of the sheriff’s car driving away and such a strong feeling of relief washed over her that she almost collapsed. Stefan put his arms around her, and Elena hugged him back tightly, knowing that her heart was pounding. She could feel it in her chest and her fingertips.

  It’s all over. All done now, Stefan thought to her and Elena suddenly felt something different. She felt pride. Stefan had simply taken charge and chased the officers away.

  Thank you, she thought to Stefan.

  “I guess we’d better get Matt out of the root cellar,” she added.

  Matt was unhappy. “Thanks for hiding me — but do you know how long that was?” he demanded of Elena when they were upstairs again. “And no light except what was in that little star ball. And no sound — I couldn’t hear a thing down there. And what is this?” He held out the long, heavy wooden staff, with its strangely shaped, spiked ends.

  Elena felt sudden panic. “You didn’t cut yourself, did you?” She snatched up Matt’s hands, letting the long staff fall to the ground. But Matt didn’t seem to have a single scratch.

  “I wasn’t dumb enough to hold it by the ends,” he said.

  “Meredith did, for some reason,” Elena said. “Her palms were covered with wounds. And I don’t even know what it is.”

  “I do,” Stefan said quietly. He picked up the stave. “But it’s Meredith’s secret really. I mean it’s Meredith’s property,” he added hastily as all eyes fixed on him at the word secret.

  “Well, I’m not blind,” Matt said in his frank, straightforward way, flipping back some fair hair in order to look more closely at the thing. He raised blue eyes to Elena. “I know what it smells like, which is vervain. And I know what it looks like with all those silver and iron spikes coming out of the sharp ends. It looks like a giant staff for exterminating every kind of Godawful Hellacious monster that walks on this earth.”

  “And vampires, too,” Elena added hastily. She knew that Stefan was in a funny mood and she definitely didn’t want to see Matt, for whom she still cared deeply, lying on the floor with a crushed skull. “And even humans — I think these bigger spikes are for injecting poison.”

  “Poison?” Matt looked at his own palms hastily.

  “You’re okay,” Elena said. “I checked you, and besides it would be a very quickacting poison.”

  “Yes, they would want to take you out of the fight as fast as possible,” Stefan said. “So if you’re alive now, you’re likely to stay that way. And now, this Godawful Hellacious monster just wants to get back up to bed.” He turned to go to the attic.

  He must have heard Elena’s swift, involuntarily indrawn breath, because he turned around and she could see that he was sorry. His eyes were dark emerald, sad but blazing with unused Power.

  I think we’ll have a late morning, Elena thought, feeling pleasurable thrills ripple through her. She squeezed Stefan’s hand, and felt him return the pressure. She could see what he had in mind; they were close enough and he was projecting pretty clearly what he wanted — and she was as eager to get upstairs as he was.

  But at that moment Matt, eyes on the wickedly spiked staff, said, “Meredith has something to do with that?”

  “I should never have said anything at all about it,” Stefan replied. “But if you want to know more, you’d really better ask Meredith herself. Tomorrow.”

  “All right,” Matt said, finally seeming to understand. Elena was way ahead of him.

  A weapon like that was — could only be — for killing all sorts of monsters walking the earth. And Meredith — Meredith who was as slim and athletic as a ballerina with a black belt, and oh! Those lessons! The lessons that Meredith had always put off if the girls were doing something at that exact moment, but that she always somehow managed to make time for.

  But a girl could hardly be expected to carry a harpsichord around with her and nobody else had one. Besides, Meredith had said she hated to play, so her BFFs had let it go at that. It was all part of the Meredith mystique.

  And riding lessons? Elena would bet some of them were genuine. Meredith would want to know how to make a quick escape mounting anything available.

  But if Meredith wasn’t practicing for a little light music in the drawing room, or for starring in a Hollywood Western — then what would she have been doing?

  Training, Elena guessed. There were a lot of dojos out there, and if Meredith had been doing this since that vampire attacked her grandfather she must be pretty darn good. And when we’ve fought grisly things, whose eyes have ever been on her, a soft gray shadow that kept out of the limelight? A lot of monsters probably got knocked out but good.

  The only question that needed to be answered was why Meredith hadn’t shown them the Godawful Hellacious monster staker or used it in any fights — say against Klaus — until now. And Elena didn’t know, but she could ask Meredith herself.

  Tomorrow, when Mer
edith was up. But she trusted that it had some simple answer.

  Elena tried to stifle a yawn in a ladylike way. Stefan? she asked. Can you get us out of here — without picking me up — and to your room?

  “I think we’ve all had enough stress this morning,” Stefan said in his own gentle voice. “Mrs. Flowers, Meredith is in the first-floor bedroom — she’ll probably sleep very late. Matt—”

  “I know, I know. I don’t know where the schedule went but I might as well make it my night.” Matt presented an arm to Stefan.

  Stefan looked surprised. Darling, you can never have too much blood, Elena thought to him, seriously and straightforwardly.

  “Mrs. Flowers and I will be in the kitchen,” she said aloud.

  When they were there, Mrs. Flowers said, “Don’t forget to thank Stefan for defending the boardinghouse for me.”

  “He did it because it’s our home,” Elena said, and went back into the hall, where Stefan was thanking a flushing Matt.

  And then Mrs. Flowers called Matt into the kitchen and Elena found herself swooped up in lithe, hard arms and then they were gaining altitude rapidly, with the wood staircase emitting little creaks and groans of protest. And finally they were in Stefan’s room and Elena was in Stefan’s arms.

  There was no better place to be, or anything else either of them really wanted now, Elena thought and turned her face up as Stefan turned his down and they began with a long slow kiss. And then the kiss went molten, and Elena had to cling to Stefan, who was already holding her with arms that could have cracked granite, but only squeezed her exactly as tightly as she wanted them to.

  13

  Elena, sleeping serenely with one hand locked onto Stefan’s, knew she was having an extraordinary dream. No, not a dream — an out-of-body experience. But it wasn’t like her previous out-of-body visits to Stefan in his cell. She was skimming through the air so quickly that she couldn’t really make out what was below her.

  She looked around and suddenly, to her astonishment, another figure appeared beside her.

  “Bonnie!” she said — or rather tried to say. But of course there was no sound.

  Bonnie looked like a transparent edition of herself. As if someone had created her out of blown glass, and then put in just the faintest tint of color in her hair and eyes.

  Elena tried telepathy. Bonnie?

  Elena! Oh, I miss you and Meredith so much! I’m stuck here in a holeA hole? Elena could hear the panic in her own telepathy. It made Bonnie wince.

  Not a real hole. A dive. An inn, I guess, but I’m locked in and they only feed me twice a day and take me to the toilet onceMy God! How did you get there?

  Well… Bonnie hesitated. I guess it was my own fault.

  It doesn’t matter! How long have you been there, exactly?

  Um, this is my second day. I think.

  There was a pause. Then Elena said, Well, a couple of days in a bad place can seem like forever.

  Bonnie tried to make her case clearer. It’s just that I’m so bored and lonely. I miss you and Meredith so much! she repeated.

  I was thinking of you and Meredith, too, Elena said.

  But Meredith’s there with you, isn’t she? Oh my God, she didn’t fall, too?

  Bonnie blurted.

  No, no! She didn’t fall. Elena couldn’t decide whether to tell Bonnie about Meredith or not. Maybe not just yet, she thought.

  She couldn’t see what she was rushing toward, although she could feel that they were slowing down. Can you see anything?

  Hey, yeah, below us! There’s a car! Should we go down?

  Of course. Can we hold hands?

  They found that they couldn’t, but that just trying to kept them closer together. In another moment they were sinking through the roof of a small car.

  Hey! It’s Alaric! Bonnie said.

  Alaric Saltzman was Meredith’s engaged-to-be-engaged boyfriend. He was about twenty-three now, and his sandy-blond hair and hazel eyes hadn’t changed since Elena had seen him almost ten months ago. He was a parapsychologist at Duke, going for his doctorate.

  We’ve been trying to get hold of him for ages, Bonnie said.

  I know. Maybe this is the way we’re supposed to contact him.

  Where is he supposed to be again?

  Some weird place in Japan. I forget what it’s called, but look at the map on the passenger seat.

  She and Bonnie intermingled as they did, their ghostly forms passing right through each other.

  Unmei no Shima: The Island of Doom, was written at the top of an outline of an island. The map beside him had a large red X on it with the caption: The Field of Punished Virgins.

  The what? Bonnie asked indignantly. What’s that mean?

  I don’t know. But look, this fog is real fog. And it’s raining. And this road is terrible.

  Bonnie dove outside. Ooh, so weird. The rain’s going right through me. And I don’t think this is a road.

  Elena said, Come back in and look at this. There aren’t any other cities on the island, just a name. Dr. Celia Connor, forensic pathologist.

  What’s a forensic pathologist?

  I think, Elena said, that they investigate murders and things. And they dig up dead people to find out why they died.

  Bonnie shuddered. I don’t think I like this very much.

  Neither do I. But look outside. This was a village once, I think.

  There was almost nothing left of the village. Just a few ruins of wooden buildings that were obviously rotting, and some tumbledown, blackened stone structures.

  There was one large building with an enormous bright yellow tarp over it.

  When the car reached this building, Alaric skidded to a stop, grabbed the map and a small suitcase, and dashed through the rain and mud to get under cover.

  Elena and Bonnie followed.

  He was met near the entrance by a very young black woman, whose hair was cut short and sleek around her elfin face. She was small, not even Elena’s height. She had eyes dancing with excitement and white, even teeth that made for a Hollywood smile.

  “Dr. Connor?” Alaric said, looking awed.

  Meredith isn’t going to like this, Bonnie said.

  “Just Celia, please,” the woman said, taking his hand. “Alaric Saltzman, I presume.”

  “Just Alaric, please — Celia.”

  Meredith really isn’t going to like this, Elena said.

  “So you’re the spook investigator,” Celia was saying below them. “Well, we need you. This place has spooks — or did once. I don’t know if they’re still here or not.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “More like sad and morbid. Sad and weird and morbid. I’ve excavated all sorts of ruins, especially those where there’s a chance of genocide. And I’ll tell you: This island is unlike any place I have ever seen,” Celia said.

  Alaric was already pulling things from his case, a thick stack of papers, a small camcorder, a notebook. He turned on the camcorder, and looked through the viewfinder, then propped it up with some of the papers. When he apparently had Celia in focus, he grabbed the notebook too.

  Celia looked amused. “How many ways do you need to take down information?”

  Alaric tapped the side of his head and shook it sadly. “As many as possible.

  Neurons are beginning to go.” He looked around. “You’re not the only one here, are you?”

  “Except for the janitor and the guy who ferries me back to Hokkaido, yes. It started out as a normal expedition — there were fourteen of us. But one by one, the others have died or left. I can’t even re-bury the specimens — the girls — we’ve excavated.”

  “And the people who left or died from your expedition—”

  “Well, at first people died. Then that and the other spooky stuff made the rest leave. They were frightened for their lives.”

  Alaric frowned. “Who died first?”

  “Out of our expedition? Ronald Argyll. Pottery specialist. He was examining two jars that w
ere found — well, I’ll skip that story until later. He fell off a ladder and broke his neck.”

  Alaric’s eyebrows went up. “That was spooky?”

  “From a guy like him, who’s been in the business for almost twenty years — yes.”

  “Twenty years? Maybe a heart attack? And then off the ladder — boom.” Alaric made a downward gesture.

  “Maybe that’s the way it was. You may be able to explain all our little mysteries for us.” The chic woman with the short hair dimpled like a tomboy. She was dressed like one too, Elena realized: Levi’s and a blue and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up over a white camisole.

  Alaric gave a little start, as if he’d realized he was guilty of staring. Bonnie and Elena looked at each other over his head.

  “But what happened to all the people who lived on the island in the first place?

  The ones who built the houses?”

  “Well, there never were that many of them in the first place. I’m guessing the place may even have been named the Island of Doom before this disaster my team was investigating. But as far as I could find out it was a sort of war — a civil war.

  Between the children and the adults.”

  This time when Bonnie and Elena looked at each other, their eyes were both wide. Just like home — Bonnie began, but Elena said, Sh. Listen.

  “A civil war between kids and their parents?” Alaric repeated slowly. “Now that is spooky.”

  “Well, it’s a process of elimination. You see, I like graves, constructed or just holes in the ground. And here, the inhabitants don’t appear to have been invaded.

  They didn’t die of famine or drought — there was still plenty of grain in the granary.

  There were no signs of illness. I’ve come to believe that they all killed one another — parents killing children; children killing parents.”

  “But how can you tell?”

  “You see this square-ish area on the periphery of the village?” Celia pointed to an area on a larger map than Alaric’s. “That’s what we call The Field of Punished Virgins. It’s the only place that has carefully constructed actual graves, so it was made early in what became a war. Later, there was no time for coffins — or no one who cared. So far we’ve excavated twenty-two female children — the eldest in her late teens.”