by L. J. Smith
Matt sucked in one long breath and then ran straight for the altar and Chloe. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He could stil save her.
“Stop.” Ethan’s voice cracked commandingly across the room. Matt froze in place, once again unable to move.
Ethan glared at him. “You do not help. You do not fight,” he said coldly. “You go.”
Matt looked imploringly at Stefan. Surely he wasn’t just supposed to leave, to abandon Chloe and Stefan and the others to the Vitale vampires. Stefan gazed back at him, his features rigid. “Sorry, Matt,” he said flatly. “The one thing I’ve learned over the years is that sometimes you have to surrender. The best thing you can do now is just leave. I’l be okay.”
And then, jarringly intrusive and sudden in Matt’s head was Stefan’s voice. Damon, he said fiercely. Get Damon.
Matt gulped and, as Ethan’s compulsion released him once more, nodded slowly, trying to look defeated while stil signaling to Stefan with his eyes that his message had been received.
He couldn’t look at the other pledges. No matter how much he hurried, some or al of them would die before he returned. Maybe Stefan would be able to save some of them. Maybe. Maybe he would be able to save Chloe.
His heart pounding with terror, his head spinning with fear, Matt ran for the exit and for help. He didn’t look back.
38
Bonnie didn’t have her keys. She knew exactly where they were, but that didn’t do her much good: they were lying on the bedside table next to Zander’s neat plain single bed.
She cursed and kicked at the door, tears running down her face. How was she going to get any of her stuff back?
Some guy opened the front door of the building for her.
“Jeez, relax,” he said, but Bonnie had already pushed past him and was running up the stairs to her room.
Please let them be here, she thought, clinging to the banister, please. She had no doubt that Elena and Meredith would comfort her, would help her, no matter what she had said to them during their fight. They would help Bonnie figure out what to do.
But they might be out. And she’d have no idea where to find Meredith and Elena, no idea where they spent their free time these days.
How had she grown so far apart from her best friends?
Bonnie wondered, wiping her hands across her cheeks, smearing away her tears and snot. Why had she treated them so badly? They were just trying to protect her. And they were right about Zander; they were so right. She snuffled miserably.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Bonnie banged on their room door with her fist, hearing quick movement inside. They were home. Thank God.
“Bonnie?” Meredith said, startled, when she opened the door, and then, “Oh, Bonnie,” as Bonnie threw herself, sobbing, into Meredith’s arms. Meredith hugged her, tight and fierce, and, for the first time since she had jumped away from Zander and run for the fire escape, Bonnie felt safe.
“What’s the matter, Bonnie? What happened?” Elena was behind Meredith, peering at her anxiously, and part of Bonnie noticed that Elena’s own white and startled face was marked with tears. She was interrupting something, but Bonnie couldn’t focus on that now.
Past Elena, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair stood out around her face in a wild red cloud, her eyes were glassy, and her pale face was smeared with dirt and tears. I look, Bonnie thought with a semihysterical silent laugh, like I was chased by werewolves.
“Werewolves,” she wailed as Meredith pul ed her into the room. “They’re al werewolves.”
“What are you—” Meredith broke off. “Bonnie, do you mean Zander and his friends? They’re werewolves?” Bonnie nodded furiously, burying her face against Meredith’s shoulder. Meredith pushed her back and looked careful y into her eyes. “Are you sure, Bonnie?” she asked gently. She looked to Elena, and they both turned and glanced out the window at the sky. “Did you see them change? It’s not the ful moon yet.”
“No,” Bonnie said. She tried to catch her breath, taking harsh sobbing gulps of air. “Zander told me. And then—oh, Meredith, it was so scary—I ran, and they chased me.” She explained what happened, on the roof and on the lawns of the col ege.
Meredith and Elena looked at each other quizzical y, then back at Bonnie. “Why did he tel you?” Elena asked.
“He couldn’t have thought you would have a good reaction to the news; it would have been easier to keep hiding it.” Bonnie shook her head helplessly.
Meredith arched an ironic eyebrow at her. “Even monsters can fal in love,” she said. “I thought you knew that, Elena.” She glanced at her hunting stave, leaning against the foot of her bed. “When the ful moon comes, now I’l know what to look for.”
Bonnie stared at her in horror. “You’re not going to hunt them, are you?” It was a stupid question, she knew. If Zander and his friends real y were behind the murders and disappearances on campus, Meredith had to hunt them. It was her responsibility. Al of their responsibilities, real y, because if they were the only ones who knew the truth, they were the only ones who could keep everyone else safe.
But Zander, something inside her howled in pain. Not Zander…
“None of the attacks occurred during a ful moon,” Elena said thoughtful y, and Meredith and Bonnie both blinked at her.
“That’s true,” Meredith agreed, frowning as she thought back. “I don’t know how we didn’t realize that before.
Bonnie,” she said. “Think careful y before you answer this question. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Zander and his friends. Did anything about them make you think they might hurt someone, real y hurt them, when they’re not in wolf form?”
“No!” Bonnie said automatical y. Then she stopped and thought and said, more slowly, “No, I don’t think so.
Zander’s real y kind, I don’t think he could fake that. Not al the time. They play rough, but I’ve never seen them fight with anyone except one another. And even with one another, they’re not real y fighting, just more sort of messing around.”
“We know what you mean,” Meredith said dryly. “We’ve seen it.”
Elena tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “The disappearances weren’t during the ful moon, either,” she said thoughtful y. “Although I guess they could have been taking people and holding them prisoner, planning to kil them when they were in wolf form later, but that doesn’t—I mean, I don’t have much werewolf experience besides Tyler, but—it doesn’t sound very wolfy to me. Too sterile, sort of.”
“But…” Bonnie sank down on her bed. “You think there’s a chance Zander and his friends might not be the kil ers?
Then who are the kil ers?” She felt bewildered.
Meredith and Elena exchanged a grim glance. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that happens on this campus,” Elena said. “We’l fil you in.” Bonnie rubbed her face with her hands. “Zander told me he was a good werewolf,” she said. “That he didn’t hurt people. Is that possible? Is there even such a thing as a good werewolf?”
Meredith and Elena sat down next to her, one on each side, and wrapped their arms around her. “Maybe?” Elena said. “I real y hope so, Bonnie. For your sake.” Bonnie sighed and cuddled closer to them, resting her head on Meredith’s shoulder. “I need to think about al this,” she said. “At least I’m not alone. I’m so glad I have you guys. I’m sorry we fought.”
Elena and Meredith both hugged her more tightly.
“You’ve always got us,” Elena promised.
A wild hammering came at the door.
Elena glanced at Bonnie, who tensed visibly on her bed but kept her hands over her face, and then at Meredith, who nodded firmly to her and climbed to her feet, reaching for her stave. It had occurred to both of them that, if Zander wanted to talk to Bonnie, he knew exactly where she lived.
Elena flung open the door, and Matt tumbled in. He was wearing a long black hooded robe, and his eyes were frantic as he gasped for breath.
“Matt?” she sa
id in surprise, and looked to Meredith, who gave a tiny shrug and put her stave back down.
“What’s the matter? And what are you wearing?” He grabbed Elena by the shoulders, holding her too tightly. “Stefan’s in danger,” he said, and she froze. “The Vitale Society—they’re vampires. Stefan saved me, but he can’t fight them al .” He quickly explained what happened in the secret chamber below the library, how Stefan came to his rescue, then sent him to get help. “We don’t have much time,” he finished. “They’re kil ing—they’re changing al the pledges into vampires. I don’t even know what Ethan’s got planned for Stefan. We have to go back. And we need Damon.”
Meredith picked up her stave again and, grim faced, was taking her satchel of weapons from her closet. Bonnie was on her feet, too, fists clenched, jaw firm.
“I’l cal Damon,” Elena said, picking up her phone.
Damon had dropped her off at the dorm after walking her back from James’s house, but he was probably stil nearby.
Stefan in danger. If he … if anything happened to him, if something happened while they were apart, while he was stil hurt and it was her fault, Elena would never forgive herself. She wouldn’t deserve to be forgiven.
Guilt was like a knife in her stomach. How could she have hurt Stefan like that? She was attracted to Damon, sure, even loved him, but she’d never had any question that Stefan was her true love. And she had broken his heart.
She’d do anything to save Stefan. She’d die for him if she had to. And, as she listened to the ringing on the other end of the line and waited for Damon to pick up, she realized that there was no question in her mind that Damon would do anything to save Stefan, too.
39
Stefan hadn’t had a plan when he agreed to stay in Matt’s place. He just knew he had to save Matt, and now he hoped Damon would come for him. Stefan’s wrists ached with a dul , throbbing insistent pain that was almost impossible for him to ignore. He tried once more to pul against the ropes that were holding him to the chair, turning his hands from left to right as far as he could to try and loosen his restraints, but it was hopeless. He couldn’t shift them.
He looked around dazedly. The room looked both serene and mysterious again now, as it had when he first kicked in the door. A good place for a secret society.
Torches burned brightly, flowers were arranged around the makeshift altar. The Vitales had taken the time to clean up after binding him and kil ing the pledges.
The ropes were crossed over his chest and stomach and wound around his back; his ankles and knees were tied to the chair legs, his elbows and wrists to the arms of the chair. He was wel trussed, but it was the ones around his wrists that hurt most, because they lay against his bare skin. And they burned.
“They’re soaked in vervain so that you’l be too weak to break free, but I’m afraid it must sting a bit,” Ethan said pleasantly, as if he was explaining an interesting element of the secret chamber’s architecture to his guest. “See, I may be new at this, but I know al the tricks.” Stefan rested his head against the back of the chair and looked at Ethan with fervent dislike. “Not all of the tricks, I suspect.”
Ethan was cocky, but Stefan was pretty sure he hadn’t been a vampire for very long. If Ethan was stil human, if he had never become a vampire, Stefan guessed he would look more or less the same as he did now.
Ethan crouched down in front of Stefan’s chair to look up into his face, wearing the same warm, friendly smile as when he’d tried to convince Stefan to join them. He looked like a pleasant fel ow, someone you wanted to relax with and trust, and Stefan glared at him. The smile was a lie.
Ethan was a kil er whose mask was less obvious than those of the other Vitale vampires, that was al .
“You’re probably right about that,” Ethan said thoughtful y. “I imagine there are al kinds of tricks you’ve picked up in, what is it, more than five hundred years?
Tricks that I don’t know yet. You could be very useful to me in that way, if you decide to join us after al . There are lots of things you can teach us about al this vampire stuff.” He flashed that appealing smile again. “I’ve always been a good student.”
Vampire stuff. “What do you want from me, Ethan?” Stefan asked wearily. It had been a long night, a long few weeks, and the vervain-soaked ropes were hurting his arms, muddying his thoughts.
Ethan knew how old he was. Ethan knew what to offer him when they first talked about the Vitale Society. It wasn’t a coincidence that he was the one in this room, then; Ethan wasn’t looking for just any vampire. “What’s your plan here?” Stefan asked.
Ethan’s smile grew wider. “I’m building an invincible vampire army, of course,” he said cheerful y. “I know it sounds a little ridiculous, but it’s al about power. And power’s never ridiculous.” He licked his lips nervously, showing a flash of thin pink tongue. “See, I used to just be one of the ordinary little people. I was just like everyone else on campus. My biggest achievements were good grades on exams or the fact that I had the leadership of some secret col ege club. You wouldn’t believe how lame the Vitale Society used to be. Just white magic and nature worship.” He made a little self-deprecating grimace: See how silly I was once. I’m telling you something embarrassing about myself, so trust me. “But then I figured out how to get some real power.”
One of the black-clad figures came up behind Ethan, and Ethan held up a finger to Stefan. “Hang on a sec, okay?” He rose and turned to talk to his lieutenant.
After tying Stefan up, Ethan had efficiently gone back to draining the pledges, one after another, dropping the bodies as soon as he finished with them. They had al gone through their transitions now and were back on their feet.
They seemed irritable and disoriented, growling and snapping at one another and gazing at Ethan with undisguised adoration.
Typical new vampires. Stefan eyed them warily. Until they had fed thoroughly, they would hover on the brink of madness, and it would be easy for Ethan to lose control of them. Then they would be even more dangerous.
“The pledges need to eat,” Ethan said calmly to the robed woman behind him. “Five of you should take them out and teach them how to hunt. You lead the hunting party and pick whoever you want to go with you. The rest wil stay here and help guard our guest.”
Stefan watched as the Vitales sorted themselves out.
Eight of Ethan’s fol owers remained, stationing themselves by the sides of the room. Stefan had managed to kil one other during the fight, ripping her throat out, but the body had been tidied away somewhere.
Stefan gave a little involuntary moan. It was hard to think straight—he was so tired, and the vervain was starting to hurt him al over, not just on his aching wrists, but anywhere the ropes touched him through his clothes. Damon, please come quickly. Please, Damon, he thought.
“You’re going to unleash nine newly made vampires on the campus?” he asked Ethan, his mind snapping back to the matter at hand. “Ethan, they’l kill people. People who were your friends, maybe. You’l draw attention to yourselves. There are already police al over campus.
Please, take them to the woods to hunt animals. They can live on animal blood.” He heard a pleading note enter his own voice as Ethan only smiled absently at him, as if he was a child begging to go to Disneyland. “Come on, Ethan, it hasn’t been very long since you were a human, too. You can’t want to stand by and have innocent students murdered.”
Ethan shrugged, patting Stefan lightly on the shoulder as he started to walk over to confer with another of his henchmen. “They need to be strong, Stefan. I want them at their peak by the next equinox. And we’ve kil ed plenty of innocent students already,” he said over his shoulder.
“Equinox? Ethan,” Stefan shouted after him in frustration. He looked frantical y at the door by which the pledges and their escort had left. It would take them a while to select victims. Not as many students were walking the campus alone at night these days. If he could get free, if Damon came now and freed him, the
y could stil stop the slaughter. If al these brand-new vampires were al owed loose on campus, there would be a massacre.
Ethan couldn’t have changed the rest of the Vitale Society al at once, he realized. The number of murders they would have committed newly made as a group would have been impossible to disguise as a few disappearances. This must have been the first mass initiation. And who had made Ethan? he wondered. Was there an older vampire somewhere on campus?
Damon, where are you? He had no doubt that Damon would come if he could.
Despite their rift over Elena, things had changed enough between him and Damon that he knew he could rely on his brother to rescue him. He had saved him before, after al , when they fought Katherine, when they fought Klaus. There was something rock solid between them now, something that wasn’t there a year ago, or in the hundreds of years before that. He closed his eyes and heard himself give a dry, painful chuckle. It seemed like an inopportune moment to start having revelations about his own family issues.
“So,” Ethan said chattily, returning to his side and pul ing up a chair, “we were talking about the equinox.”
“Yes,” Stefan said, an acid bite to his tone.
He wasn’t going to let Ethan see how he was yearning toward the door, expectant. He needed to keep his cool, so that Damon could have the element of surprise on his side.
He should keep Ethan talking, keep him distracted in case Damon came, so he fixed an expression of interest on his face and looked at Ethan attentively.
“At the time of the equinox, when day and night are perfectly balanced, the line between life and death is at its most weak and permeable. This is the time when spirits can cross between the worlds,” Ethan began dramatical y, moving one hand in a wide sweep.
Stefan sighed. “I know that, Ethan,” he said impatiently.
“Just cut to the chase.” He might have to keep Ethan distracted, but surely he didn’t have to feed his ego.
Ethan dropped his hand. “You remember Klaus, don’t you?” he asked. “The originator of your bloodline? We’re resurrecting him. With him at the head of our ranks, we’l be invincible.”
