by L. J. Smith
“Oh, does your brother go here, too?” Ethan asked, and Matt decided the two of them seemed happy enough together and that it was okay for him to leave now.
“I’l catch up with you guys later,” he said. Taking another swal ow of beer, Matt strode through the crowd, straight toward Chloe. Her eyes were shining, her dimples were showing, and he knew the time was right. Like he had told Stefan, love was worth taking the chance.
22
Bonnie knew the minute that Zander and his friends came into the party, because the noise level went way up.
Honestly, Zander was calmer than his friends, sort of, at least around Bonnie, but as a group, they were definitely wild.
It was kind of irritating, actual y.
But when Zander appeared next to her—hip-checking Marcus into a wal on his way—and gave her his long, slow smile, her toes curled inside her high-heeled shoes and she forgot al about being annoyed.
“Hi!” she said. “Is everything okay?” He cocked an eyebrow at her inquiringly. “I mean, you said something came up with your family, and that’s why you’ve been …
busy.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zander bent his head down to talk to her, and his warm breath ghosted across Bonnie’s neck as he sighed. “My family’s pretty complicated,” he said. “I wish sometimes that things were easier.” He looked sad, and Bonnie impulsively took his hand, twining her fingers through his.
“Wel , what’s wrong?” she asked, striving for a tone of understanding and reliability. A dependable girlfriend tone.
“Maybe I can help. You know, a fresh ear and al that.” Zander frowned and bit his lip. “I guess it’s like… I have responsibilities. My whole family is in a position where there are promises we’ve made and sort of things we have to take care of. And sometimes what I want to do and what I have to do don’t line up.”
“Could you be any more vague?” Bonnie asked teasingly, and Zander huffed a half laugh. “Seriously, what do you mean? What do you have to do? What don’t you want to do?”
Zander looked down at her for a moment and then his smile widened. “Come on,” he said, tugging her hand.
Bonnie went with him, weaving their way through the party and up the stairs. Zander seemed to know where he was going; he turned a couple of corners, then pushed open a door.
Inside was a dorm common room: a couple of ratty couches, a banged-up table. Someone’s art project, a large canvas covered with splotches of paint, leaned against the wal .
“Do you live in this dorm?” she asked Zander.
“No,” he said, his eyes on her mouth. He pul ed her toward him and rested his hands on her hips. And then he kissed her.
It was the most amazing kiss Bonnie had ever experienced. Zander’s lips were so soft, yet firm, and there were little fireworks going off al over Bonnie’s body. She lifted her hand and cupped it against his cheek, feeling the strong bones of his face and the slight scratch of stubble against her palm.
Once again, she felt as she had during their first date, standing on the roof, when it had been like she was flying.
So free, and with a wild kind of joy zinging through her. She slid her hand to the back of his neck, feeling Zander’s fine pale blond hair brush softly against her fingers.
When the kiss ended, neither of them spoke for a moment, they just leaned against each other, breathing hard. Their faces were so close, and Zander’s bril iant blue eyes were fixed on hers, warm and intent.
“Anyway, that’s what I want to do, since you asked. Do you”—his voice cracked—“do you want to go back to the party now?”
“No,” said Bonnie, “not yet.” And this time, she kissed him.
“Oh, thank God,” Chloe said when Matt came up to her. “I was beginning to feel like the biggest wal flower.” She crinkled her nose appealingly at him. Her nose, which tilted up just a little, was spattered with freckles, and she had a pretty cupid’s bow of a mouth. He wanted to tug gently on the soft brown ringlets of her curls, just to see them straighten and then spring back into shape.
“What do you mean?” he said, pul ing himself back together, although he was painful y aware that he sounded half-witted. “A wal flower?”
“Oh, just…” She waved one hand vaguely at the crowd.
“There’s hardly anyone I know here besides you and Ethan.
This whole party’s completely stuffed with freshmen.” Matt’s heart sank. He had forgotten that Chloe was a junior. It shouldn’t be a big deal, real y, should it? But she sounded like she thought freshmen were beneath her, or something. Disdainful, that was the word he was looking for to describe her tone.
“I thought the party seemed okay,” he said weakly.
Chloe pursed her lips teasingly, then socked him gently on the arm. “Wel ,” she said softly, “there’s only enough room for one freshman in my life. Right, Matt?” That was more of a hopeful sign. The problem was, Matt realized, that his only dating experience had been in asking out girls who he either didn’t real y care about, but was just thinking of as potential dates for dances or whatever, or who were Elena. Who, yes, he cared tremendously about, but who he knew for long enough and wel enough that he could tel she was going to say yes.
Stil , he thought he could see an opening here.
“Chloe,” he said, “I was wondering if you would—” Matt broke off as Ethan joined them, smiling widely. For the first time, Matt felt a flash of irritation toward him. Ethan was so smart with people. Couldn’t he see he was interrupting a moment here?
“I liked your friend Stefan,” Ethan told Matt. “He seemed very sophisticated for a freshman, very wel spoken. Do you think it’s because he’s European?”
Matt only shrugged in response, and Ethan turned to Chloe.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, putting an arm around her and kissing her lightly on the lips.
And yeah, wow, maybe Ethan had realized he was interrupting a moment. It wasn’t a long kiss, but there was definitely a possessive air about it, and about his arm flung across Chloe’s shoulders. When it ended, Chloe smiled up at Ethan, breathless, and Ethan’s eyes flicked to Matt, just for a second.
Matt wanted to fold right over and sink into the sticky, beer-stained floor beneath his feet. But instead he eked out a smile of his own and tipped his beer to Ethan.
Because Chloe—adorable, sweet, funny, easygoing Chloe—had a boyfriend. He ought to have anticipated that he wouldn’t be the only one who saw how amazing she was. And Matt would have backed off no matter who Chloe’s boyfriend was. He didn’t want to be that guy who sleazed al over other people’s relationships; he never had been.
But since Chloe’s boyfriend was Ethan? Ethan, the Vitale Society leader, the one who had made Matt feel like he was special, like he could be the best? Since it was Ethan, Matt was just going to have to grit his teeth and ignore that hol ow feeling in his chest. He was going to be strong and keep himself from even thinking about what he wished could have been with Chloe.
There were some lines he just couldn’t cross. Ever.
23
“I don’t know how it got so late,” Elena said for the third time as they hurried down the path by the quad. “Bonnie and Meredith are probably worried about me.”
“They know you’re with me,” Damon said, pacing along unruffled beside her.
“I don’t think they’l find that comforting,” Elena said, and bit her tongue as Damon shot her an expressive look.
“After al the time we’ve spent fighting side by side, they stil don’t trust me?” he said silkily. “I’d be terribly hurt. If I cared what they thought.”
“I don’t mean that they think you’d hurt me,” Elena said.
“Not anymore. Or that you wouldn’t protect me. I guess they worry that you might … might make a pass at me. Or something.”
Damon stopped and looked at her. Then he picked up her hand and held it, running one finger down the inside of her arm, tracing the vein that led from Elena’s wrist to her elbo
w. “And what do you think?” he asked, smiling gently.
Elena snatched her hand back, glaring at him. “Clearly they have a point,” she said. “Knock it off. Just friends, remember?”
Sighing deeply, Damon started walking again, and Elena hurried to catch up.
“I’m glad you decided to come to the party with me,” she said eventual y. “It’l be fun.” Damon shot her a velvet-black glance through his lashes but said nothing.
It was always fun to be with Damon, Elena thought, listening to the clicking of her own heels and watching her shadow grow and disappear as they walked beneath the streetlights. Or at least, it was always fun when Damon was in a good mood and nothing was trying to kil them, two circumstances she wished coincided more often.
Stefan, sweet, darling Stefan, was the love of her life.
She had no doubts about that. But Damon made her feel breathless and excited, swept up in something bigger than herself. Damon made her feel like she was special.
And he was more easygoing than usual tonight. After Matt left, they’d searched the library some more, and then Damon treated her to chips and soda in the basement vending-machine room. They sat at one of the little tables and talked and laughed. It wasn’t anything fancy or elegant, nothing like the parties he’d escorted her to in the Dark Dimension, but it was comfortable and fun, and when she looked at her phone, she was startled to see that more than an hour had passed.
And now Damon even volunteered to come to a col ege keg party. Maybe he was trying to get along with her friends. Maybe they could real y be friends, once things somehow worked out between Stefan and him.
Elena had reached this point in her musings when she suddenly got the unmistakable creepy-crawly feeling that she was being watched. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
“Damon,” she said softly. “There’s someone watching us.”
Damon’s pupils dilated as he sniffed the air. Elena could tel that he was sending out questing tendrils of Power, searching for an answering surge, for someone focusing on them.
“Nothing,” he said after a moment. He tucked his hand under her arm, pul ing her closer. “It could just be your imagination, princess, but we’l be careful.” The leather of Damon’s jacket was smooth against Elena’s side, and she held tightly to him as they stepped out into the road that divided the campus.
Just across from them, a car that had been idling at the curb gunned its engine. Its headlights blazed on, blinding Elena. Damon’s arms locked around her waist, squeezing the breath out of her.
The car’s tires squealed and it shot toward them. Elena panicked—oh God, oh God, she thought helplessly—and froze. Then she was sailing through the air, Damon holding her so tightly that it hurt.
When they hit the grass on the other side of the road, Damon paused for a moment, adjusting his grip on Elena, and Elena peered back at the car, which had passed where they were standing a moment before and skidded back around in a U-turn. She couldn’t make out anything, not what kind of car it was nor anything about the driver; behind the bright lights, it was just a hulking dark shape.
A hulking dark shape that was veering onto the grass and coming back after them. Damon swore and yanked her onward, running rather than flying now, Elena’s feet barely touching the ground. Her heart was pounding. She could tel Damon was hampered from using his ful speed by keeping Elena close. They dodged around the corner of a building and leaned against its wal , surrounded by bushes.
The car hurtled by, then turned, its wheels leaving long skid marks, and lumbered back to the road.
“We lost him,” Elena whispered, panting.
“Annoy anyone lately, princess?” Damon asked, his eyes sharp.
“I should be asking you that,” Elena retorted. Then she wrapped her arms around herself. She was so cold suddenly. “Do you think it could have been because of the Vitale Society?” she asked, her voice quavering.
“Something about them and my parents?”
“We don’t know who or what could have been on the other side of that trapdoor,” Damon replied somberly. “Or maybe Matt…”
“Not Matt,” Elena said firmly. “Matt would never hurt me.” Damon nodded. “That’s true. He’s ridiculously honorable, your Matt.” He gave her a little wry sideways smile. “And he loves you. Everyone loves you, Elena.” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“One thing’s certain, though. If the driver of that car thought I was human before, he knows differently now.” Elena pul ed the jacket more tightly around herself. “You saved me,” she said in a tiny voice. “Thank you.” Damon’s eyes were soft as he put his arms around her.
“I wil always save you, Elena,” he promised. “Don’t you know that by now?” His pupils dilated, and he pul ed her closer. “I can’t lose you,” he murmured.
Elena felt like she was fal ing. The world was being swal owed up in Damon’s midnight eyes, and she was being drawn along with it, into the darkness. A tiny part of her said no, but despite it she leaned toward him and met his mouth with hers.
Stefan tapped his fingers against the wal behind him, looked around at al the people jammed too close together: talking, laughing, arguing, drinking, dancing. His skin was crawling with anxiety. Where was she? Matt said he’d seen her at the library more than an hour ago, that she had been planning on coming to the party then.
Making up his mind, Stefan began to push his way toward the exit. Maybe Elena didn’t want him in contact with her right now, but people were dying and disappearing. It would be worth it to have her angry with him, as long as he knew that she was okay.
He passed Meredith, deep in conversation with her friend, and said, “I’m going to find Elena.” He had the quick impression of her faltering, starting to reach out a hand to stop him, but he left her behind. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool night air. Campus security was stil by the door checking IDs, but they let him pass without comment, only interested in people trying to come into the party.
Outside, the wind was rushing through the trees overhead and a crescent moon rode high and white above the buildings around him. Stefan sent his Power out around him, feeling for the distinct traces of Elena.
He couldn’t sense anything, not yet. There were too many people too close together here, and Stefan could only feel the tangled traces of thousands of humans, their emotions and life force mixing together in one great underlying buzz from which it was impossible for him, at this distance, to pick out any particular individual, even one as singular as Elena.
If he had fed on human blood recently, it would have been easier. Stefan couldn’t help thinking longingly of the way that Power had surged through him when he drank regularly from his friends. But that was when Fel ’s Church needed his best defense against the kitsune. He wouldn’t drink human blood just for pleasure or convenience.
Stefan started walking quickly across the quad, stil sending out questing fingers of Power around and ahead of himself. If he couldn’t locate Elena that way, he would head for where she was last seen. He hoped that, as he got closer to the library, his Power would pick up some hint of her.
His whole body was thrumming anxiously. What if Elena had been attacked, what if she mysteriously vanished and never returned, leaving him with this strange distance as their last memory of each other? Stefan walked faster.
He was halfway to the library when the distinctive sense of Elena hit him like a punch. Somewhere nearby.
He scanned left and right and then he saw her. A terrible pain shot through his chest, as if he could actual y feel his heart breaking. She was kissing Damon. They were half hidden in the shadows, but their light skin and Elena’s blond hair shone. They were focused only on each other, so much so that, despite his Power, Damon wasn’t aware of Stefan’s presence, not even when he walked right up to them.
“Is this why you wanted to take some time apart, Elena?” Stefan asked, his voice sounding hol ow and distant. Final
y noticing him, they broke away from each other, Elena’s face pale with shock.
“Stefan,” she said. “Please, Stefan, no, it’s not what it looks like.” She reached out a hand toward him, then drew it back uncertainly.
Everything seemed so far away to Stefan; he was aware that he was shaking, his mouth was dry, but it felt almost as if he was watching someone else in pain. “I can’t do this,” he said. “Not again. If I fight for you, I’l just end up destroying us al . Just like with Katherine.” Elena was shaking her head back and forth, her hands stretched out toward him imploringly again. “Please, Stefan,” she said.
“I can’t,” Stefan said again, backing away, his voice thin and desperate.
Then, for the first time, he looked at Damon, and a redhot rage slammed into him, overriding the numb distance instantly. “Al you do is take,” Stefan told him bitterly. “This is the last time. We’re not brothers anymore.” Damon’s face opened for a split second in dismay, his eyes widening, as if he was about to speak, and then he hardened again, his mouth twisting scornful y, and he jerked his head at Stefan. Very well, that gesture indicated, then get lost.
Stefan stumbled backward, and then he turned and ran, moving with al the supernatural grace and speed at his command, leaving them far behind even as Elena screamed, “Stefan!”
24
Giggling, Bonnie tripped on her way down the stairs, her foot coming right out of her high-heeled shoe.
“Here you go, Cinderel a,” Zander said, picking up the shoe and kneeling in front of her. He helped slip her foot back into it, his fingers warm and steady against her instep.
Bonnie gave a mock curtsy, muffling her laughter. “Thank you, m’lord,” she said flirtatiously.
She felt fabulous, so sil y and happy. It was almost as if she was drunk, but she’d only had a few sips of beer. No, she was drunk. Drunk on Zander, on his kisses, his gentle hands, and his big blue eyes. She took his hand, and he smiled down at her, that long slow smile, and Bonnie just absolutely quivered.
“Seems like the party’s wrapping up,” she said, as they hit the first floor. It was real y getting late, almost two o’clock. There were only a few groups of hard-core partiers left: a bunch of frat boys by the keg, some theater-department girls dancing with great wide swoops of their arms, a couple sitting hand in hand at the bottom of the stairs in deep conversation. Meredith, Stefan, Samantha, and Matt had disappeared, and if Elena had ever shown up, she had left, too. Zander’s friends had gone, or been kicked out.
