One thing was clear even before that. She liked roses.
“A full flush of Dreamweavers,” he said, shaking his head in admiration as he looked at the bushes covered with brilliant pink bloom. “And those White Icebergs climbing the trellis…. Ah, but your Moonstones!” He lightly touched an open rose, its petals moonlight-colored but shading to palest pink at the edges.
The young woman — Krysta — couldn’t help smiling. Damon felt the information flow effortlessly from her mind to his. She was just twenty-two, not married, still living at home. She had precisely the kind of aura he was looking for, and only a sleeping father in the house.
“You don’t look like the type to know so much about roses,” Krysta said frankly, and then gave a self-conscious laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ve met all sorts at the Creekville Rose Shows.”
“My mother is an avid gardener,” Damon lied fluently and without a trace of misgiving. “I guess I got my passion from her. Now I don’t stay in one place long enough to grow them, but I can still dream. Would you like to know what my ultimate dream is?”
By this time Krysta felt as if she were floating on a delicious rose-scented cloud. Damon felt every delicate nuance with her, enjoyed seeing her flush, enjoyed the slight tremor that shook her body.
“Yes,” Krysta said simply. “I’d love to know your dream.”
Damon leaned forward, lowered his voice. “I want to breed a true black rose.”
Krysta looked startled and something flashed through her mind too quickly for Damon to catch. But then she said in an equally hushed voice, “Then there’s something I’d like to show you. If — if you have time to come with me.”
The backyard was even more splendid than the front and there was a hammock gently swinging, Damon noted with approval. After all, he would soon need a place to put Krysta…while she slept it off.
But at the rear of the bower was something that caused his pace to quicken involuntarily.
“Black Magic roses!” he exclaimed, eyeing the wine-dark, almost burgundy-colored blooms.
“Yes,” Krysta said softly. “Black Magics. The closest anyone has ever gotten to a black rose. I get three flushes a year,” she whispered tremulously, no longer questioning who this young man might be, overwhelmed by her feelings which almost took Damon with her.
“They’re magnificent,” he said. “The deepest red I’ve ever seen. The closest to black ever bred.”
Krysta was still trembling with joy. “You’re welcome to one, if you like. I’m taking them to the Creekville show next week but I can give you one in full bloom now. Maybe you’ll be able to smell it.”
“I’d…like that,” Damon said.
“You can give it to your girlfriend.”
“No girlfriend,” Damon said, glad to get back to lying. Krysta’s hands shook slightly as she cut one of the longest, straightest stems for him.
Damon reached out to take it and their fingers touched.
Damon smiled at her.
When Krysta’s knees went boneless with pleasure, Damon caught her easily and went on with what he was doing.
Meredith was right behind Bonnie as she stepped into Caroline’s room.
“I said, shut the damn door!” Caroline said — no, snarled.
It was only natural to look to see where the voice was coming from. Just before Meredith cut off the only sliver of light by shutting the door Bonnie saw Caroline’s corner desk. The chair that used to sit in front of it was gone.
Caroline was underneath.
It might have been a good hiding space for a ten-year-old, but as an eighteen-year-old Caroline had curled into an impossible position in order to fit there. She was sitting on a pile of what looked like shreds of clothing. Her best clothes, Bonnie thought suddenly, as a twinkle of gold lamé flashed and was gone when the door shut.
Then it was just the three of them together in the darkness. No illumination came from above or below the door to the hall.
It’s because the hall is in another world, Bonnie thought wildly.
“What’s wrong with a little light, Caroline?” Meredith asked quietly. Her voice was steady, comforting. “You asked us to come and see you — but we can’t see you.”
“I said come and talk to me,” Caroline corrected instantly, exactly as she always had in the old days. That should have been comforting, too. Except — except that now that Bonnie could hear her voice sort of reverberating under the desk, she could tell it had a new quality. Not so much husky as—
You really don’t want to be thinking this. Not in the midnight darkness of this room, Bonnie’s mind told her.
Not so much husky as snarly, Bonnie thought helplessly. You could almost say Caroline growled her answers.
Little sounds told Bonnie that the girl under the desk was moving. Bonnie’s own breathing quickened.
“But we want to see you,” Meredith said quietly. “And you know that Bonnie’s scared of the dark. Can I just turn on your bedside lamp?”
Bonnie could feel herself trembling. That wasn’t good. It wasn’t smart to show Caroline you were afraid of her. But the pitch-blackness was making her tremble. She could feel that this room was wrong in its angles — or maybe it was only her imagination. She could also hear things that made her jump — like that loud double clicking noise directly behind her. What had made that?
“All rrright then! Turrn on the one by the bed.” Caroline was definitely snarling. And she was moving toward them; Bonnie could hear rustling and breathing getting closer.
Don’t let her get to me in the dark!
It was a panicked, irrational thought, but Bonnie couldn’t help thinking it any more than she could help stumbling blindly sideways into…
Something tall — and warm.
Not Meredith. Never since Bonnie had known her had Meredith smelled like rancid sweat and rotten eggs. But the warm something took hold of both Bonnie’s upraised hands, and there were strange little clicking noises as they clenched.
The hands weren’t just warm; they were hot and dry. And the ends poked oddly into Bonnie’s skin.
Then, as a light by the bedside went on, they were gone. The lamp Meredith had found put out a very, very dim ruby light — and it was easy to see why. A ruby negligee and peignoir had been tied around the shade.
“This is a fire hazard,” Meredith said, but even her level voice sounded shaken.
Caroline stood before them in the red light. She seemed taller than ever to Bonnie, tall and sinewy, except for the slight bulge of her belly. She was dressed normally, in jeans and a tight T-shirt. She was holding her hands playfully hidden behind her back, and smiling her old insolent, sly smile.
I want to go home, Bonnie thought.
Meredith said, “Well?”
Caroline just kept smiling. “Well, what?”
Meredith lost her temper. “What do you want?”
Caroline just looked arch. “Have you visited your friend Isobel today? Had a little talk with her?”
Bonnie had a powerful urge to slap that smug smile off Caroline’s face. She didn’t. It was just a trick of the lamplight — she knew it had to be — but it looked almost as if there was a red dot shining in the center of each of Caroline’s eyes.
“We visited Isobel at the hospital, yes,” Meredith said expressionlessly. Then, with unmistakable anger in her voice, she added, “And you know very well that she can’t talk yet. But”—with a triumphant little pounce—“the doctors say she will be able to. Her tongue will heal, Caroline. She may have scars from all the places she pierced herself, but she’s going to be able to talk again just fine.”
Caroline’s smile had faded, leaving her face looking haggard and full of dull fury. At what? Bonnie wondered.
“It would do you some good to get out of this house,” Meredith told the copper-haired girl. “You can’t live in the dark—”
“I won’t forever,” Caroline said sharply. “Just until the twins are born.” She stood, hands still behind her, and
arched her back so that her stomach protruded more than ever.
“The — twins?” Bonnie was startled into speaking.
“Matt Junior and Mattie. That’s what I’m going to call them.”
Caroline’s gloating smile and impudent eyes were almost too much for Bonnie to stand. “You can’t do that!” she heard herself shouting.
“Or maybe I’ll call the girl Honey. Matthew and Honey, for their daddy, Matthew Honeycutt.”
“You can’t do it,” Bonnie shouted, more shrilly. “Especially with Matt not even here to defend himself—”
“Yes, he did run away very suddenly, didn’t he? The police are wondering why he had to run. Of course”—Caroline lowered her voice to a meaningful whisper—“he wasn’t alone. Elena was with him. I wonder what the two of them do in their spare time?” She giggled, a high, fatuous giggle.
“Elena isn’t the only person with Matt,” Meredith said, and now her voice was low and dangerous. “Someone else is, too. Do you remember an agreement you signed? About not telling anyone about Elena or bringing publicity around her?”
Caroline blinked slowly, like a lizard. “A long time ago. In a different lifetime, for me.”
“Caroline, you’re not going to have a lifetime if you break that oath! Damon would kill you. Or — have you already—?” Meredith stopped.
Caroline was still giggling in that childish way, as if she were a little girl and someone had just told her a naughty joke.
Bonnie felt cold sweat break out all over her body at once. Fine hairs lifted on her arms.
“What are you hearing, Caroline?” Meredith wet her lips. Bonnie could see that she was trying to hold Caroline’s eyes, but the copper-haired girl turned away. “Is it…Shinichi?” Meredith moved forward suddenly and grasped Caroline’s arms. “You used to see and hear him when you looked in the mirror. Do you hear him all the time now, Caroline?”
Bonnie wanted to help Meredith. She did. But she couldn’t have moved or spoken for anything.
There were — gray threads — in Caroline’s hair. Gray hairs, Bonnie thought. They shone dully, much lighter than the flaming auburn Caroline was so proud of. And there were…other hairs that didn’t shine at all. Bonnie had seen this brindled coloration on dogs; she knew vaguely that some wolves must look the same. But it was really something else to see them in your girlfriend’s hair. Especially when they seemed to bristle and quiver, lifting like the hackles of a dog….
She’s mad. Not angry mad; insane mad, Bonnie realized.
Caroline looked up, not at Meredith, but straight into Bonnie’s eyes. Bonnie flinched. Caroline was gazing at her as if considering whether or not Bonnie were dinner or just garbage.
Meredith stepped to stand beside Bonnie. Her fists were clenched.
“Don’t starrre,” Caroline said abruptly, and turned away. Yes, that was definitely a snarl.
“You really wanted us to see you, didn’t you?” Meredith said softly. “You’re — flaunting yourself in front of us. But I think that maybe this is your way of asking for help—”
“Harrrrdly!”
“Caroline,” Bonnie said suddenly, amazed by a wave of pity that swamped her, “please try to think. Remember back when you said you needed a husband? I—” She broke off and swallowed. Who was going to marry this monster, who a few weeks ago had looked like a normal teenage girl?
“I understood you back then,” Bonnie finished lamely. “But, honestly, it won’t do any good to keep on saying Matt attacked you! No one…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the obvious.
No one will believe something like you.
“Oh, I clean up rrrreal prrretty,” Caroline growled and then giggled. “You’d be surprrrised.”
In her mind’s eye, Bonnie saw the old insolent flash of Caroline’s emerald gaze, the sly and secretive expression on her face, and the shimmering of her auburn hair.
“Why pick on Matt?” Meredith demanded. “How did you know he was attacked by a malach that night? Did Shinichi send it after him just for you?”
“Or did Misao?” Bonnie said, remembering that it was the female of the twin kitsune, the fox spirits, who had spoken the most to Caroline.
“I went out on a date with Matt that night.” Suddenly Caroline’s voice was a singsong, as if she were reciting poetry — badly. “I didn’t mind kissing him — he’s so cute. I guess that’s when he got the hickey on his neck. I guess I might have bitten his lip a little.”
Bonnie opened her mouth, felt Meredith’s restraining hand on her shoulder, and shut it again.
“But then he just went crazy,” Caroline lilted on. “He attacked me! I scratched him with my fingernails, all up and down one arm. But Matt was too strong. Much too strong. And now—”
And now you’re going to have puppies, Bonnie wanted to say, but Meredith squeezed her shoulder and she stopped herself again. Besides, Bonnie thought with a sudden twinge of alarm, the babies might look human, and there might only be twins, as Caroline herself had said. Then what would they do?
Bonnie knew the way adult minds worked. Even if Caroline couldn’t dye her hair back to auburn, they would say, look what stress she’s been under: she’s actually going prematurely gray!
And even if the adults saw Caroline’s bizarre appearance and strange behavior, as Bonnie and Meredith just had, they would dismiss it as being due to shock. Oh, poor Caroline, her whole personality has changed since that day. She’s so frightened of Matt that she hides under her desk. She won’t wash herself — maybe that’s a common symptom after what she’s been through.
Besides who knew how long it would take these werewolf babies to be born? Maybe the malach inside Caroline could control that, make it seem to be like a normal pregnancy.
And then suddenly Bonnie was snatched away from her own thoughts to tune into Caroline’s words. Caroline was through growling for the moment. She sounded almost like the old Caroline, offended and nasty, as she said, “I just don’t understand why you should take his word over mine.”
“Because,” Meredith said flatly, “we know both of you. We would have known if Matt had been dating you — and he wasn’t. And he’s hardly the kind of guy to just show up at your front door, especially when you consider how he felt about you.”
“But you’ve already said that this monster that attacked him—”
“Malach, Caroline. Learn the word. You’ve got one inside you!”
Caroline smirked and waved a hand, dismissing this. “You said these things can possess you and make you do things out of character, right?”
There was a silence. Bonnie thought, if we have said it, we’ve never said it in front of you.
“Well, what if I admitted that Matt and I weren’t dating? What if I said that I found him driving around our neighborhood at about five miles an hour, just looking lost. His sleeve was torn to pieces and his arm was all chewed up. So I took him inside my house and tried to bandage his arm — but suddenly he went crazy. And I did try to scratch him, but the bandages were in the way. I scratched them off him. I even still have them, all covered in blood. If I told you that, what would you say?”
I’d say that you were using us as a dry run before telling Sheriff Mossberg, Bonnie thought, chilled. And I’d say that you were right, you probably can clean up pretty normal looking when you make an effort. If you’d just stop that childish giggling and get rid of the crafty look, you’d be even more convincing.
But Meredith was speaking. “Caroline — they’ve got DNA tests for blood.”
“Of course I know that!” Caroline looked so indignant that for a moment she forgot to look sly.
Meredith was staring at her. “That means they can tell if the bandages you’ve got have Matt’s blood on them or not,” she said. “And if it flows in the right pattern to match your story.”
“There isn’t any pattern. The bandages are just soaked.” Abruptly, Caroline strode over to a dresser and opened it, plucking out a length of what might have originally b
een athletic bandage. Now it shone reddish in the faint light.
Looking at the stiff fabric in the ruby light, Bonnie knew two things. It wasn’t any part of the poultice that Mrs. Flowers had put on Matt’s arm the morning after he’d been attacked. And it was soaked with genuine blood, right to the stiff tips of the cloth.
The world seemed to be spinning around. Because even though Bonnie believed in Matt, this new story scared her. This new story might even work—provided that no one could find Matt and test his blood.
Even Matt admitted that there was time unaccounted for that night…time he couldn’t remember.
But that didn’t mean Caroline was telling the truth! Why would she start out with a lie, and only change it when the facts got in the way?
Caroline’s eyes were the color of a cat’s. Cats play with mice, just for amusement. Just to see them run.
Matt had run….
Bonnie shook her head. All at once she couldn’t stand this house any longer. It had somehow settled into her mind, making her accept all the impossible angles of the distorted walls. She had even grown accustomed to the awful smell and the red light. But now, with Caroline holding out a blood-soaked bandage and telling her that it was Matt who had bled all over it…
“I’m going home,” Bonnie announced suddenly. “And Matt didn’t do it, and — and I’m never coming back!” Accompanied by the sound of Caroline’s giggling, she whirled, trying not to look at the nest Caroline had made under her corner desk. There were empty bottles and half-empty plates of food piled in there with the clothes. Anything could be under them — even a malach.
But as Bonnie moved, the room seemed to move with her, accelerating her spin, until she had gone twice around before she could put out a foot to stop herself.
“Wait, Bonnie — wait, Caroline,” Meredith said, sounding almost frantic. Caroline was folding her body like a contortionist, getting back under the desk. “Caroline, what about Tyler Smallwood? Don’t you care that he’s the real father of your — your kids? How long were you dating him before he joined up with Klaus? Where is he now?”
The Return: Shadow Souls tvd-6 Page 5
