Moonsong tvdth-2

by L. J. Smith

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, wanting to hold her, to keep her safe. “Why don’t we go out tonight?” he said. “I’ve got a study group to go to, but it shouldn’t last too long. We could go off campus for dinner. Maybe you could stay over tonight? I’d feel better if I knew you were safe.” Elena looked at him, her eyes suddenly sparkling with laughter. “Oh, as long as that’s the only reason you’d want me in your room,” she said, smiling. “I’d hate to think you had designs on my virtue.”

  Stefan thought of Elena’s creamy skin and silky golden hair, of her warmth, the rich wine of her blood. The idea of her in his arms again, without her aunt Judith or his landlady, Mrs. Flowers, down the hal , was intoxicating.

  “Of course not,” he murmured, bowing his head toward hers. “I have no designs. I live only to serve you.” He kissed Elena again, sending al his love and longing to her.

  Above their heads, Stefan heard a strident cawing and the flapping of wings, and, his lips stil against Elena’s, he frowned. Elena seemed to sense his sudden tension and pul ed away from him, fol owing his gaze toward the black crow wheeling above them.

  Damon. Watching them, watching Elena, as always.

  “Excel ence.” Ethan’s voice rang out across the outdoor basketbal court where the pledges were gathered. Dawn was breaking, and there was no one around except for Ethan and the sleepy-faced pledges. “As you know from our first meeting, each of you here exemplifies the peak of one or more types of achievement. But that’s not enough.” He paused, looking from face to face. “It’s not enough for each of you to have a piece of the best. You can encompass al these attributes in yourself. Over the course of the pledge period, you wil discover worlds inside yourselves that you’ve never imagined.” Matt shuffled his sneakers against the asphalt and tried to keep the skeptical expression off his face. Expecting him to achieve the heights of academic or artistic success, he knew, was a long shot.

  He wasn’t particularly modest, but he was realistic, and he could list his best qualities: athlete, good friend, honorable guy. He wasn’t stupid, either, but if excel ing in intel ect and creativity were prerequisites for being part of the Vitale Society, he might as wel give up now.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced around at his fel ow pledges. It was reassuring to see that most of them were wearing expressions of barely restrained panic: apparently “encompassing al these attributes” wasn’t something they’d reckoned on either. Chloe, the cute round-faced girl he’d noticed at the first gathering, caught his eye and winked, just a quick brush of her lashes, and he smiled back, feeling oddly happy.

  “Today,” Ethan announced, “we wil work on athleticism.” Matt sighed with relief. Athleticism he could do.

  Al around him, he saw faces fal . The intel ectuals, the leaders, the budding creative geniuses—they weren’t looking forward to testing their athletic prowess. A low rebel ious murmur swel ed among them.

  “Don’t sulk,” said Ethan, laughing. “I promise you, by the time you become ful members of the society, each of you wil have reached your peak of physical perfection. For the first time, you wil feel what it is to be truly alive.” His eyes glittered with possibility.

  Ethan went on to outline the pledges’ task. They were about to embark on a fifteen-mile run, with several obstacles along the way. “Be prepared to get dirty,” he said cheerful y. “But it wil be wonderful. When you finish, you’l have achieved something new. You are welcome to assist one another. But be aware: if you do not complete the run in three hours, you wil not be invited to continue to the next step in the pledging process.” He smiled. “Only the best can become members of the Vitale Society.” Matt looked around and saw that the pledges, even those who looked like they had never left the science lab or the library, were retying their sneakers and stretching, wearing determined expressions.

  “Holy cow,” a voice beside him said. It was a nice voice, with a real twang to it, a voice that came from somewhere deeper in the South than Virginia, and Matt was smiling even before he looked around and saw that it was Chloe. “I figure you’re about the only person here who isn’t going to have a lot of trouble with this,” she said.

  She was so cute. Little dimples showed in her cheeks when she smiled, and her short dark hair fel in curls behind her ears. “Hey, I’m Matt,” Matt said, grinning back at her.

  “I knew that,” she said cheerful y. “You’re our footbal star.”

  “And you’re Chloe, the amazing artist,” he said.

  “Oh.” She blushed. “I don’t know about that.”

  “I’d love to see your work sometime,” he told her, and her smile widened.

  “Any tips for today?” she asked. “I never run unless I’m about to miss the bus, and I think I’m about to regret that.” Her face was so appealing that Matt momentarily felt like hugging her. Instead, he frowned thoughtful y up at the sky. “Under these kinds of conditions,” he said, “the best thing to do is incline your arms at a fifty-degree angle to the ground and run with a light bounding step.” Chloe stared at him for a minute and then giggled.

  “You’re teasing me,” she said. “That’s not fair. I have no idea about this stuff.”

  “I’l help you,” Matt said, feeling good. “We can do it together.”

  9

  Where r u? Elena texted impatiently. Stefan was supposed to meet her at her dorm room more than twenty minutes ago. Surely his study group was over by now? She was starving.

  She paced around the room, occasional y glancing at the dark tree branches beyond the windows. It wasn’t like Stefan to be late.

  She checked her phone. It was too soon to try to reach him again.

  Outside, something dark moved, and she gasped.

  Then she shook her head. It was just the branches of the trees out there, waving in the breeze. She moved closer, trying to see past the reflections on the glass. Their room was on the third floor; there wouldn’t be anyone sitting that high up. At least not anyone human. Elena shuddered.

  “Elena,” said a cool, clear voice from outside.

  With a squeak that sounded like a frightened rabbit, Elena jerked backward, pressing one hand to her pounding heart. After a moment, she stepped up to the window and threw it open.

  “Damon,” she said. “You scared me to death. What are you doing out there?”

  There was a flash of white teeth in the shadows. A mocking tone rang through his answer. “Waiting for you to invite me into your room, of course.”

  “You don’t need an invitation,” Elena said. “You helped me move in.”

  “I know,” Damon said, smiling. “I’m being a gentleman.” Elena hesitated. She trusted Damon, of course she did, but this seemed so intimate. Damon outside in the dark, Elena alone in her bedroom, neither of her roommates around. He’d been in her room at home, but Aunt Judith and Robert had been just down the hal . She wondered if Stefan would mind her being alone here with Damon, but she shook off the thought. He trusted Elena, that was what mattered.

  “Elena,” Damon’s voice was soft but insistent. “Let me in before I fal .”

  Rol ing her eyes, she said, “You’d never fal . And if you did, you’d fly. But you can come in anyway.” With a soft whoosh, faster than her eye could fol ow, Damon was suddenly beside her. She had to step back a pace. Eyes and hair as dark as night, pale luminous skin, perfectly cut features. He even smel ed good. His lips looked so soft….

  Elena caught herself leaning toward him, her own lips parting, and pul ed away. “Stop it,” she said.

  “I’m not doing anything,” Damon said innocently. When Elena arched a skeptical eyebrow at him, he shrugged and shot her a brief, bril iant smile. There, Elena thought. That’s why Stefan might mind Damon being here. “Oh, al right.

  I’m only teasing you.”

  He looked around the room and quirked an eyebrow of his own. “Why, Elena,” he said, “I’m almost disappointed.

  You and your friends are running so true to type here.” E
lena fol owed his eyes. Bonnie’s side of the room was a mess, a tumble of stuffed animals, rejected outfits, and Dalcrest paraphernalia. In contrast, Meredith’s area was rigidly tidy, books lined up alphabetical y, a single silver pen on the desk next to her slim silver laptop, her bed neatly draped in a silk duvet in subtly patterned gray and white.

  Her dresser and closet were closed, but inside, Elena knew, Meredith’s clothes would be organized by type, color, and season. Damon was right: just by looking at their parts of the room, you could tel that Meredith was rational, sophisticated, careful y control ed, and private, while Bonnie was fluffy, fun-loving, and disorganized.

  What about Elena’s own things? What did they say about her? She looked over her part of the room with a critical eye. Framed art prints from her favorite exhibits, her silver brush and comb lined up on her dresser, deep-blue sheets that she knew set off her eyes and hair. Someone who held on to what she liked and didn’t change easily?

  Someone who was very aware of what suited her? She wasn’t sure.

  Damon smiled at her again, without the mocking edge this time. “Don’t give it a second’s thought, princess,” he said affectionately. “You’re more than your possessions.”

  “Thanks,” Elena said shortly. “So, did you just drop in my window to say hel o?”

  He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They were standing very close together, and Elena backed away a little. “I thought maybe, now that you’re a col ege girl, we could go out tonight and have some fun.”

  “Fun?” Elena said, stil distracted by his mouth. “What kind of fun?”

  “Oh, you know,” he said, “just a little dinner, a few drinks.

  Friend stuff. Nothing too daring.”

  “Right,” Elena said firmly. “It sounds nice. But I can’t tonight. Stefan and I are going out to dinner.”

  “Of course,” Damon said. He gave her a firm little nod and what was so obviously supposed to be a supportive smile that she had to stifle a giggle. Supportive, friendly, and unassuming were not natural looks on Damon’s face.

  He was trying so very hard to be her friend even though they al knew there was more than that between them.

  Since he had died and come back, he had been trying to change his relationships with Stefan and with her, she knew, to be with them in a way he never had before. It couldn’t be easy on poor Damon, trying to be good. He was out of practice.

  Elena’s phone chimed. She read the text from Stefan: I’m sorry. The study group’s running late. I think it’ll be at least another hour. Meet later?

  “Problem?” Damon was watching her, the same innocent, friendly smile on his face, and affection for him washed over Elena. Damon was her friend. Why shouldn’t she go out with him?

  “Change of plans,” she said briskly. “We’l go out, but just for a little while. I need to be back here to meet Stefan in an hour.” She texted Stefan quickly to let him know she was going to grab some food and looked up to see a triumphant smile on Damon’s face as he reached to take her arm.

  Bonnie walked across campus, practical y skipping in time to the happy tune in her head. A date with Zander, la la la la la. It was about time, too. She’d been eagerly anticipating seeing Zander again al week, and although they’d talked on the phone, she hadn’t laid eyes on him around campus at al , even though of course she’d been looking.

  At last she was about to see him. La la la la la. Lovely, gorgeous Zander.

  She had on jeans and a sort of silvery, draping top that at least made it look like she might have some cleavage. It was a good outfit, she thought, understated enough for just hanging out but also a little bit special. Just in case they decided to go out clubbing or something at the last minute.

  Zander hadn’t told her what he’d planned, just asked her to meet him outside the science building. La la la la la, she hummed.

  Bonnie’s footsteps slowed, and the tune in her head died off as she saw flickering lights il uminating a group of people up ahead. They were gathered in the courtyard in front of one of the dorms.

  Approaching, she realized it was a group of girls holding candles. The wavering light from the candles sent shadows across their serious faces. Propped against the wal of the dorm were three blown-up photos, two girls and a guy. Al across the grass in front of them were heaped flowers, letters, and teddy bears.

  Hesitant to break the silence, Bonnie touched the arm of one of the girls. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “It’s a candlelight vigil for the missing people,” the girl whispered back.

  Missing people? Bonnie scanned the faces in the photographs. Young, smiling, about her age. “Are they al students here?” she asked, horrified. “What happened to them?”

  “Nobody knows,” the girl said, her gaze serious. “They just vanished. You didn’t hear about this?” Bonnie’s stomach dropped. She knew that a girl was attacked—or something—on the quad the first night, but she hadn’t known about any disappearances. No wonder her gut instinct had warned her to be scared walking across campus the other day. She could have been in danger.

  “No,” she said slowly. “I didn’t hear anything.” She dropped her eyes and bowed her head, silent as she sent out a fervent hope that these three happy-looking people would be found, safe and sound.

  In the distance, a siren began to wail.

  “Something’s happened.”

  “Do you think someone was attacked?”

  A babble of frightened voices rose as the sirens got closer. A girl near Bonnie began to sob, a hurt, scared sound.

  “Al right, what’s the trouble here?” said a new, authoritative voice, and Bonnie looked up to see two campus police officers shouldering their way through the crowd.

  “We … uh…” The girl who had spoken to Bonnie gestured at the photos and flowers against the wal . “We were having a vigil. For the missing people.”

  “What are those sirens for?” another girl asked, her voice rising.

  “Nothing to worry about,” said the officer, but his face softened as he looked at the sobbing girl. Bonnie realized with a slight shock that he wasn’t much older than she was.

  “Miss?” he said to the crying girl. “We’l help you get home.” His partner looked around at the crowd. “It’s time to break things up and head inside,” he said sternly. “Stick together and be careful.”

  “I thought you said there was nothing to worry about,” said another girl angrily. “What aren’t you tel ing us?”

  “There’s nothing you don’t know already,” the man said patiently. “People are missing. You can never be too careful.”

  If there’s nothing to worry about, why do we have to be careful? Bonnie wondered, but she bit back the words and hurried away down the path, toward the science building where Zander had suggested they meet.

  The idea of trying to have a vision, to see if she could learn anything about the missing people, nudged at Bonnie’s mind, but she pushed it away. She hated that.

  She hated the loss of control when she slid into one of her visions.

  It was unlikely to work, anyway. Her visions had always been about people she knew, about immediate problems facing them. She didn’t know any of the missing people.

  She bit her lip and walked faster. The excitement about her date had fizzled out, and she didn’t feel safe now. But at least if she got to Zander, she wouldn’t be alone.

  When she arrived at the science building, though, Zander wasn’t there. Bonnie hesitated and looked around nervously. This corner of campus seemed to be deserted.

  She tried the door of the science building, but it was locked. Wel of course it was—there weren’t any classes this late. Bonnie shook the handle of the front door in frustration. She reached into her bag, then groaned as she realized she’d left her phone back in her room.

  Suddenly, she felt very exposed. The campus police had said to stick together, not to wander around alone at night, but here she was, al by hersel
f. A cool breeze ruffled her hair and she shivered. It was getting awful y dark.

  “Bonnie. Psst, Bonnie!”

  Zander’s voice. But where was he?

  Bonnie saw nothing but the dark quad, streetlights throwing little circles of light on the paths. Above her, leaves rustled in the wind.

  “Bonnie! Up here.”

  Looking up, she final y spotted Zander on the roof, peering down over the side at her, his pale hair almost glowing in the moonlight.

  “What’re you doing up there?” she cal ed to him, confused.

  “Come on up,” he invited, pointing to the fire-escape ladder on the side of the building. It was lowered to just a couple of feet above the ground.

  “Real y?” said Bonnie dubiously. She walked over to the fire escape. She could make it onto the ladder, she was pretty sure, but she was going to look clumsy and awkward scrambling up on it. And what if she got caught? She hadn’t actual y read the campus regulations thoroughly, but wouldn’t climbing the fire escape up to the roof of a closed building be against the rules?

  “Come on, Bonnie,” Zander cal ed. His feet clanging loudly against the iron steps, he ran down the fire escape, shimmied down the ladder, and leaped to the ground, landing catlike on his feet beside her. He went down on one knee and held his hands out together. “I’l boost you up so you’l be able to reach.”

  Bonnie swal owed, then stepped up onto Zander’s hands and stretched for the ladder. Once she swung her leg up onto the bottom rung, it was a piece of cake, although the slightly rusty metal was rough against her hands. She spared a moment to thank al the powers of the universe that she had decided to wear jeans rather than a skirt tonight.

  Zander trailed behind her up the fire escape from one landing to another until final y they arrived on the roof.

  “Are we al owed to be up here?” Bonnie asked nervously.

  “Wel ,” Zander said slowly, “probably not. But I come up here al the time, and no one’s ever told me not to.” He smiled that warm, wonderful smile at her and added, “This is one of my favorite places.”