Moonsong

CREATED BY

L. J. Smith

The

Vampire

Diaries

THE HUNTERS

VOL. 2

MOONSONG

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Epilogue

About the Author

Other Works

Credits

Copyright

Back Ads

About the Publisher

1

Dear Diary,

I’m so scared.

My heart is pounding, my mouth is dry, and my hands are shaking. I’ve faced so much and survived: vampires, werewolves, phantoms. Things I never imagined were real. And now I’m terrified.

Why?

Simply because I’m leaving home.

And I know that it’s completely, insanely ridiculous. I’m barely leaving home, really. I’m going to college, only a few hours’ drive from this darling house where I’ve lived since I was a baby.

No, I’m not going to start crying again. I’ll be sharing a room with Bonnie and Meredith, my two best friends in the whole world. In the same dorm, only a couple of floors away will be my beloved Stefan. My other best friend, Matt, will be just a short walk across campus. Even Damon will be in an apartment in the town nearby.

Honestly, I couldn’t stick any closer to home unless I never moved out of this house at all. I’m being such a wimp. But it seems like I just got my home back—my family, my life—after being exiled for so long, and now I suddenly have to leave again.

I suppose I’m scared partly because these last few weeks of summer have been wonderful. We packed all the enjoyment we would have been having these past few months—if it hadn’t been for fighting the kitsune, traveling to the Dark Dimension, battling the jealousy phantom, and all the other Extremely Not Fun things we’ve done—

into three glorious weeks. We had picnics and sleepovers and went swimming and shopping. We took a trip to the county fair, where Matt won Bonnie a stuffed tiger and turned bright red when she squealed and leaped into his arms. Stefan even kissed me on the top of the Ferris wheel, just like any normal guy might kiss his girlfriend on a beautiful summer night.

We were so happy. So normal in a way I thought we could never be again.

That’s what’s frightening me, I guess. I’m scared that these few weeks have been a bright golden interlude and that now that things are changing, we’ll be heading back into darkness and horror. It’s like that poem we read in English class last fall says: Nothing gold can stay. Not for me.

Even Damon…

The clatter of feet in the hal way downstairs distracted her, and Elena Gilbert’s pen slowed. She glanced up at the last couple of boxes scattered around her room. Stefan and Damon must be here to pick her up.

But she wanted to finish her thought, to express the last worry that had been nagging at her during these perfect weeks. She turned back to her diary, writing faster so that she could get her thoughts down before she had to leave.

Damon has changed. Ever since we defeated the jealousy phantom, he’s been … kinder. Not just to me, not just to Bonnie, who he’s always had a soft spot for, but even to Matt and Meredith. He can still be intensely irritating and unpredictable—he wouldn’t be Damon without that—but he hasn’t had that cruel edge to him. Not like he used to.

He and Stefan seem to have come to an

understanding. They know I love them both, and yet they haven’t let jealousy come between them.

They’re close, acting like true brothers in a way I haven’t seen before. There’s this delicate balance between the three of us that’s lasted through the end of the summer. And I worry that any misstep on my part will bring it crashing down and that like their first love, Katherine, I’ll tear the brothers apart. And then we’ll lose Damon forever.

Aunt Judith cal ed up, sounding impatient, “Elena!”

“Coming!” Elena replied. She quickly scribbled a few more sentences in her diary.

Still, it’s possible that this new life will be wonderful. Maybe I’ll find everything I’ve been looking for. I can’t hold on to high school, or to my life here at home, forever. And who knows? Maybe this time the gold will stay.

“Elena! Your ride is waiting!”

Aunt Judith was definitely getting stressed out now.

She’d wanted to drive Elena up to school herself. But Elena knew she wouldn’t be able to say good-bye to her family without crying, so she’d asked Stefan and Damon to drive her up instead. It would be less embarrassing to get emotional here at home than to weep al over Dalcrest’s campus. Since Elena had decided to go up with the Salvatore brothers, Aunt Judith had been working herself up about every little detail, anxious that Elena’s col ege career wouldn’t start off perfectly without her there to supervise. It was al because Aunt Judith loved her, Elena knew.

Elena slammed the blue-velvet-covered journal shut and dropped it into an open box. She climbed to her feet and headed for the door, but before she opened it, she turned to look at her room one last time.

It was so empty, with her favorite posters missing from the wal s and half the books gone from her bookcase. Only a few clothes remained in her dresser and closet. The furniture was al stil in place. But now that the room was stripped of most of her possessions, it felt more like an impersonal hotel room than the cozy haven of her childhood.

So much had happened here. Elena could remember cuddling up with her father on the window seat to read together when she was a little girl. She and Bonnie and Meredith—and Caroline, who had been her good friend, too, once—had spent at least a hundred nights here tel ing secrets, studying, dressing for dances, and just hanging out. Stefan had kissed her here, early in the morning, and disappeared quickly when Aunt Judith came to wake her.

Elena remembered Damon’s cruel, triumphant smile as she invited him in that first time, what felt like a mil ion years ago. And, not so long ago, her joy when he had appeared here one dark night, after they al thought he was dead.

There was a quiet knock at the door, and it swung open.

Stefan stood in the doorway, watching her.

“About ready?” he said. “Your aunt is a little worried.

She thinks you’re not going to have time to unpack before orientation if we don’t get going.”

Elena stood and went over to wrap her arms around him. He smel ed clean and woodsy, and she nestled her head against his shoulder. “I’m coming,” she said. “It’s just hard to say good-bye, you know? Everything’s changing.” Stefan turned toward her and caught her mouth softly in a kiss. “I know,” he said when the kiss ended, and ran his finger gently along the curve of her bottom lip. “I’l take these boxes down and give you one more minute. Aunt Judith wil feel better if she sees the truck getting packed up.”

“Okay. I’l be right down.”

Stefan left the room with the boxes, and Elena sighed, looking around again. The blue flowered curtains her mother had made for her when Elena was nine stil hung over the windows. Elena remembered her mother hugging her, her eyes a little teary, when her baby girl told her she was too big for Winnie the Pooh curtains.

Elena’s own eyes fil ed with tears, and she tucked her hair behind her ears, mirroring the gesture her mother had used when she was thinking hard. Elena was so young when her parents died. Maybe if they’d lived, she and her mother would be friends now, would know each other as equals, not just as mother and daughter.

Her parents had gone to Dalcrest Col ege, too. That’s where they’d met, in fact. Downstairs on top of the piano sat a picture of them in their graduation robes on the sun-fil ed lawn in front of the Dalcrest library, laughing, impossibly young.

Maybe going to Dalcrest would bring Elena closer to them. Maybe she’d learn more about the people they’d been, not just the mom and dad she’d known when she was little, and find her lost family among the neoclassical buildings and the sweeping green lawns of the col ege.

She wasn’t leaving, not real y. She was moving forward.

Elena set her jaw firmly and headed out of her room, clicking off the light as she went.

Downstairs, Aunt Judith, her husband, Robert, and Elena’s five-year-old sister, Margaret, were gathered in the hal , waiting, watching Elena as she came down the stairs.

Aunt Judith was fussing, of course. She couldn’t keep stil ; her hands were twisting together, smoothing her hair, or fiddling with her earrings. “Elena,” she said, “are you sure you’ve packed everything you need? There’s so much to remember.” She frowned.

Her aunt’s obvious anxiety made it easier for Elena to smile reassuringly and hug her. Aunt Judith held her tight, relaxing for a moment, and sniffed. “I’m going to miss you, sweetheart.”

“I’l miss you, too,” Elena said, and squeezed Aunt Judith closer, feeling her own lips tremble. She gave a shaky laugh. “But I’l be back. If I forgot anything, or if I get homesick, I’l run right back for a weekend. I don’t have to wait for Thanksgiving.”

Next to them, Robert shifted from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. Elena let go of Aunt Judith and turned to him.

“Now, I know col ege students have a lot of expenses,” he said. “And we don’t want you to have to worry about money, so you’ve got an account at the student store, but…” He opened his wal et and handed Elena a fistful of bil s. “Just in case.”

“Oh,” said Elena, touched and a little flustered. “Thank you so much, Robert, but you real y don’t have to.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “We want you to have everything you need,” he said firmly. Elena smiled at him grateful y, folded the money, and put it in her pocket.

Next to Robert, Margaret glared down obstinately at her shoes. Elena knelt before her and took her little sister’s hands. “Margaret?” she prompted.

Large blue eyes stared into her own. Margaret frowned and shook her head, her mouth a tight line.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Meggie,” Elena said, pul ing her close, her eyes fil ing with tears again. Her little sister’s dandelion-soft hair brushed against Elena’s cheek.

“But I’l be back for Thanksgiving, and maybe you can come visit me on campus. I’d love to show off my little sister to al my new friends.”

Margaret swal owed. “I don’t want you to go,” she said in a smal miserable voice. “You’re always leaving.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Elena said helplessly, cuddling her sister closer. “I always come back, don’t I?” Elena shivered. Once again, she wondered how much Margaret remembered of what had really happened in Fel ’s Church over the last year. The Guardians had promised to change everyone’s memories of those dark months when vampires, werewolves, and kitsune had nearly destroyed the town—and when Elena herself had died and risen again—but there seemed to be exceptions.

Caleb Smal wood remembered, and sometimes Margaret’s innocent face looked strangely knowing.

“Elena,” Aunt Judith said again, her voice thick and weepy, “you’d better get going.”

Elena hugged her sister one more time before letting her go. “Okay,” she said, standing and picking up her bag.

“I’l cal you tonight and let you know how I’m settling in.” Aunt Judith nodded, and Elena gave her another quick kiss before wiping her eyes and opening the front door.

Outside, the sunlight was so bright she had to blink.

Damon and Stefan were leaning against the truck Stefan had rented, her stuff packed into the back. As she stepped forward, they both glanced up and, at the same time, smiled at her.

Oh. They were so beautiful, the two of them, that seeing them could stil leave her shaken after al this time. Stefan, her love Stefan, his leaf-green eyes shining at the sight of her, was gorgeous with his classical profile and that sweet little kissable curve to his bottom lip.

And Damon—al luminescent pale skin, black velvety eyes, and silken hair—was graceful and deadly al at once.

Damon’s bril iant smile made something inside her stretch and purr like a panther recognizing its mate.

Both pairs of eyes watched her lovingly, possessively.

The Salvatore brothers were hers now. What was she going to do about it? The thought made her frown and made her shoulders hunch nervously. Then she consciously smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead away, relaxed, and smiled back at them. What would come, would come.

“Time to go,” she said, and tilted her face up toward the sun.

2

Meredith held the tire gauge firmly against the valve of her left back tire while she checked it. The pressure was fine.

The pressure on al four tires was fine. The antifreeze, oil, and transmission fluids were al topped off, the car battery was new, and the jack and spare tire were in perfect shape. She should have known. Her parents weren’t the kind to stay home from work to see her off to col ege. They knew she didn’t need coddling, but they’d show their love by making sure al the preparations were made, that she was safe and perfectly ready for anything that might happen. Of course, they wouldn’t tell her that they had checked everything, either; they’d want her to continue protecting herself.

There wasn’t anything she had to do now except leave.

Which was the one thing she didn’t want to do.

“Come with me,” she said without looking up, despising the faint quaver she heard in her own voice. “Just for a couple of weeks.”

“You know I can’t,” Alaric said as he brushed his hand lightly over her back. “I wouldn’t want to leave if I came with you. It’l be better this way. You’l get to enjoy the first weeks of col ege like al the other new students, without anyone holding you back. Then I’l come up and visit soon.” Meredith turned to face him and found Alaric gazing back at her. His mouth tensed, just the tiniest tightening, and she could see that parting again, after only a few weeks together, was just as hard for him as it was for her.

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

“Better than if I’d gone to Harvard,” she murmured.

“Much closer.”

As the summer had ended, she and Matt had realized they couldn’t leave their friends and head off to out-of-state col eges as they’d planned. They’d al been through so much together, and they wanted to stay together, to protect one another, more than they wanted to go anywhere else.

Their home had been nearly destroyed more than once, and only Elena’s blackmail of the Celestial Court had restored it and saved their families. They couldn’t leave.

Not while they were the only ones standing against the darkness out there, the darkness that would be drawn forever to the Power of the magical ley lines that crossed the area around Fel ’s Church. Dalcrest was close enough that they’d be able to come back if danger threatened again.

They needed to protect their home.

So Stefan had gone down to the administrative offices at Dalcrest and used his vampire mojo. Suddenly Matt had the footbal scholarship to Dalcrest he’d turned down in favor of Kent State back in the spring, and Meredith was not only expected as an incoming freshman but was housed in a triple in the best dorm on campus with Bonnie and Elena. The supernatural had worked for them, for a change.

Stil , she’d had to give up a couple of dreams to get here. Harvard. Alaric by her side.

Meredith shook her head. Those dreams were incompatible, anyway. Alaric couldn’t have come to Harvard with her. Alaric was staying here in Fel ’s Church to research the origins of al the supernatural things that had happened over the town’s history. Luckily, Duke was letting him count this toward his dissertation on the paranormal.

And he’d be able to monitor the town for danger at the same time. They’d have to be apart for now, no matter where Meredith chose to go, but at least Dalcrest was a manageable drive away.

Alaric’s skin had a soft tan, and a scattering of golden freckles crossed his cheekbones. Their faces were so close she could feel the warmth of his breath.

“What’re you thinking?” His voice was a low murmur.

“Your freckles,” she said. “They’re gorgeous.” Then she took a breath and pul ed away. “I love you,” Meredith said, and then rushed on before a wave of longing could overwhelm her, “I have to go.” She picked up one of the suitcases sitting by the car and swung it into the trunk.

“I love you, too,” Alaric said, and caught her hand and held it tightly for a moment, looking into her eyes. Then he let go and put the last suitcase into the trunk and slammed the lid.

Meredith kissed him, quick and hard, and hurried herself into the driver’s seat. Once she was safely seated, belted in, the engine running, she let herself look at him again.

“Bye,” she said through the open window. “I’l cal you tonight. Every night.”

Alaric nodded. His eyes were sad, but he smiled and held up a hand in farewel .

Meredith backed out of the driveway careful y. Her hands were at ten and two, and she kept her eyes on the road and her breathing steady. Without even looking, she knew Alaric was standing in the driveway, watching her car drive out of sight. She pressed her lips together firmly. She was a Sulez. She was a vampire hunter, a star student, and completely levelheaded in al situations.

She didn’t need to cry; after al , she would see Alaric again. Soon. In the meantime, she would be a true Sulez: ready for anything.

Dalcrest was beautiful, Elena thought. She’d been here before, of course. She, Bonnie, and Meredith had driven al the way up for a frat party junior year, when Meredith had been dating a col ege boy. And she dimly remembered her parents bringing her for an alumni family event, back when she was little.

But now that she was part of the school, now that it would be her home for the next four years, everything looked different.

“Pretty swanky,” Damon commented as the car swept between the great gilded gates at the school’s entrance and drove on past buildings of faux Georgian brick and neoclassical marble. “For America, that is.”

“Wel , we can’t al grow up in Italian palaces,” Elena answered absently, very conscious of the light pressure of his thigh alongside hers. She was sitting in the front of the truck between Stefan and Damon, and there wasn’t a lot of room. Having both of them so close was awful y distracting.

Damon rol ed his eyes and drawled to Stefan, “Wel , if you have to play human and attend school again, little brother, at least you didn’t choose too hideous a spot. And, of course, the company wil make up for every inconvenience,” he added gal antly with a glance at Elena.

“But I stil think that it’s a waste of time.”

“And yet, here you are,” Elena said.

“I’m only here to keep you out of trouble,” Damon retorted.

“You’l have to excuse Damon,” Stefan said to Elena lightly. “He doesn’t understand. He was thrown out of university back in the old days.”

Damon laughed. “But I had great fun while I was there,” he said. “There were al kinds of pleasures a man of means could have at university. I imagine things have changed a bit, though.”

They were needling each other, Elena knew, but there wasn’t that hard, bitter edge to their sparring that used to be there. Damon was smiling over her head at Stefan with a wry affection, and Stefan’s fingers were loose and relaxed on the steering wheel.

She put a hand on Stefan’s knee and squeezed.

Damon tensed next to her, but when she glanced over at him, he was gazing ahead through the windshield, his face neutral. Elena took her hand off Stefan’s knee. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb the delicate balance between the three of them.

“Here we are,” Stefan said, pul ing up to an ivy-covered building. “Pruitt House.”

The dorm loomed above them, a tal brick building with a turret on one side, windows glittering in the afternoon sun.

“It’s supposed to be the nicest dorm on campus,” Elena said.

Damon opened his door and hopped out, then turned to give Stefan a long look. “The best dorm on campus, is it?

Have you been using your powers of persuasion for personal gain, young Stefan?” He shook his head. “Your morals are disintegrating.”

Stefan got out on his own side and turned to give Elena a courteous hand down. “It’s possible you’re final y rubbing off on me,” he said to Damon, his lips twitching slightly with amusement. “I’m in the turret in a single. There’s a balcony.”

“How nice for you,” Damon said, his eyes moving quickly between them. “This is a dormitory for both boys and girls, then? The sins of the modern world.” His face was thoughtful for a moment; then he gave a bril iant smile and began to pul luggage out of the back.

He had seemed almost lonely to Elena for that second

—which was ridiculous, Damon was never lonely—but that fleeting impression was enough to make her say impetuously, “You could come to school with us, Damon. It’s not too late, not if you used your Power to enrol . You could live on campus with us.”

She felt Stefan freeze. Then he took a slow breath and slid up next to Damon, reaching for a stack of boxes. “You could,” he said casual y. “It might be more fun than you think to try school again, Damon.”

Damon shook his head, scoffing, “No, thank you. I parted ways with academia several centuries ago. I’l be much happier in my new apartment in town, where I can keep an eye on you without having to slum with students.” He and Stefan smiled at each other with what looked like perfect understanding.

Right, Elena thought, with a curious mixture of relief and disappointment. She hadn’t seen the new apartment yet, but Stefan had assured her that Damon would be, as usual, living in the lap of luxury, at least so far as the closest town could offer.

“Come along, kiddies,” Damon said, picking up several suitcases effortlessly and heading into the dorm. Stefan hoisted his tower of boxes and fol owed him.

Elena grabbed a box of her own and came after them, admiring their natural grace, their elegant strength. As they passed a few open doors, she heard a girl mock wolf-whistle, then giggle breathlessly with her roommate.

A box tipped from Stefan’s enormous pile as he started up the staircase, and Damon caught it easily despite the suitcases. Stefan gave him a casual nod of thanks.

They’d spent centuries as enemies. They’d killed each other, once. Hundreds of years of hating each other, bound together by misery, jealousy, and sorrow. Katherine had done that to them, trying to have them both when they each wanted only her.

Everything was different now. They’d come so far. Since Damon had died and come back, since they had battled and defeated the jealousy phantom, they’d come to be partners. There was an unspoken acknowledgment that they would work together to protect a little group of humans.

More than that, there was a cautious, but very real, affection between them. They relied on each other; they’d be sorry to lose each other again. They didn’t talk about it, but she knew it was true.

Elena squeezed her eyes shut for just a second. She knew they both loved her. They both knew that she loved them. Even though, her mind corrected conscientiously, Stefan is my true love. But something else in her, that imaginary panther, stretched and smiled. But Damon, my Damon…

She shook her head. She couldn’t break them apart, couldn’t let them fight over her. She wouldn’t do what Katherine had done. If the time came for her to choose, she would choose Stefan. Of course.

Would you? the panther purred lazily, and Elena tried to push the thought away.

Everything could fal apart so easily. And it was up to her to make sure that never happened again.

3

Bonnie fluffed her red curls as she hurried across Dalcrest’s great lawn. It was so pretty here. Little flagstone paths bordered the lawn, leading off to the various dorms and classroom buildings. Brightly colored flowers—

petunias, impatiens, daisies—were growing everywhere, by the sides of the path and in front of the buildings.

The human scenery was pretty awesome, too, Bonnie thought, surreptitiously eyeing a bronzed guy lying on a towel near the edge of the lawn. Not surreptitiously enough, though—the guy lifted his shaggy dark head and winked at her. Bonnie giggled and walked faster, her cheeks warm.

Honestly, shouldn’t he be unpacking or setting up his room or something? Not just lying around half naked and winking at passing girls like a big … flirt.

The bag of stuff Bonnie had bought in the campus bookstore clinked gently in her hand. Of course, she hadn’t been able to buy books yet, as they wouldn’t sign up for classes until the next day, but it turned out the bookstore sold everything. She’d gotten some great stuff: a Dalcrest mug, a teddy bear wearing its own cute little Dalcrest T-shirt, and a few things that would come in handy, like an efficiently organized shower caddy and a col ection of pens in every color of the rainbow. She had to admit she was pretty excited about starting col ege.

Bonnie shifted the bag to her left hand and flexed the cramping fingers of her right. Excited or not, al this stuff she’d bought was heavy.

But she needed it. This was her plan: she was going to become a new person at col ege. Not entirely new; she liked herself fine, for the most part. But she was going to become more of a leader, more mature, the kind of person who people said, “Ask Bonnie,” or “Trust Bonnie,” rather than, “Oh, Bonnie,” which was completely different.

She was determined to step out of the shadows of Meredith and Elena. They were both terrific, of course, her absolute best friends, but they didn’t even realize how terrifyingly in charge they were al the time. Bonnie wanted to become a terrific, ful y in-charge person in her own right.

Plus maybe she’d meet a real y special guy. That would be nice. Bonnie couldn’t actual y blame Meredith or Elena for the fact that al the way through high school, she’d had plenty of dates but no serious boyfriends. But the simple fact was that, even if everyone thought you were cute, if your two closest friends were gorgeous and smart and powerful, the kind of guy who was looking to fal in love might find you a little bit … fluffy … in comparison.

She had to admit, though, that she was relieved that she and Meredith and Elena were al living together. She might not want to be stuck in their shadows, but they were stil her best friends. And, after al …

Thud. Someone crashed into Bonnie’s side and she lost her train of thought completely. She staggered backward. A large male body lurched into her again, briefly crushing her face against his chest, and she tripped, fal ing against someone else’s side. There were guys al around her, shoving one another back and forth, joking around and arguing, paying no attention to her as she was jostled among them, until a strong hand suddenly steadied her in the midst of the turmoil.

By the time she found her feet, they were moving off again, five or six male bodies swiping and shoving at one another, not stopping to apologize, as if they hadn’t even noticed her as anything more than an inanimate obstacle in their path.

Except for one of them. Bonnie found herself staring at a worn blue T-shirt and a slim torso with wel -muscled arms.

She straightened up and smoothed her hair, and the hand gripping her arm let go.

“Are you al right?” a low voice asked.

I’d be better if you hadn’t almost knocked me down, Bonnie was about to say snippily. She was out of breath, and her bag was heavy, and this guy and his friends seriously needed to watch where they were going. Then she looked up, and her eyes met his.

Wow. The guy was gorgeous. His eyes were a clear, true blue, the blue of the sky at dawn on a summer morning.

His features were sharply cut, the eyebrows arched, the cheekbones high, but his mouth was soft and sensual. And she’d never seen hair quite that color before, except on the youngest kids, that pure white-blond that made her think of tropical beaches under a summer sky…

“Are you okay?” he repeated more loudly, a frown of concern crinkling his perfect forehead.

God. Bonnie could feel herself blushing right up to the roots of her hair. She had just been staring at him with her mouth open.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to pul herself together. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He grinned, and a tiny zing! shot right through Bonnie.

His smile was gorgeous, too, and it lit up his whole face.

“That’s nice of you to say,” he said, “but I think maybe we should have been watching where we were going instead of shoving each other al over the path. My friends sometimes get a little … rowdy.”

He glanced past her, and Bonnie looked back over her shoulder. His friends had stopped and were waiting for him farther down the path. As Bonnie watched, one of them, a tal dark guy, smacked another on the back of the head, and a moment later they were scuffling and shoving again.

“Yeah, I can see that,” said Bonnie, and the gorgeous white-blond guy laughed. His rich laugh made Bonnie smile, too, and pul ed her attention back to those eyes.

“Anyway, please accept my apology,” he said. “I’m real y sorry.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Zander.” His grip was nice and firm, his hand large and warm around hers. Bonnie felt herself blushing again, and she tossed her red curls back and stuck her chin bravely in the air. She wasn’t going to act al flustered. So what if he was gorgeous? She was friends—sort of, anyway—with Damon. She ought to be immune to gorgeous guys by now.

“I’m Bonnie,” she said, smiling up at him. “This is my first day here. Are you a freshman, too?”

“Bonnie,” he said thoughtful y, drawing her name out a little like he was tasting it. “No, I’ve been here for a while.”

“Zander… Zander,” the guys down the path began chanting, their voices getting faster and louder as they repeated it. “Zander… Zander… Zander.” Zander winced, his attention slipping back toward his friends. “I’m sorry, Bonnie, I’ve got to run,” he said. “We’ve got sort of a…” He paused. “… club thing going on. But, like I said, I’m real y sorry we almost knocked you over. I hope I’l see you again soon, okay?”

He squeezed her hand once more, gave her a lingering smile, and walked away, picking up speed as he got closer to his friends. Bonnie watched him rejoin the group of guys.

Just before they turned past a dorm, Zander looked back at her, flashed that gorgeous smile, and waved.

Bonnie raised her hand to wave back, accidental y clunking the heavy bag against her side as he turned away.

Amazing, she thought, remembering the color of his eyes. I might be falling in love.

Matt leaned against the wobbly pile of suitcases he’d stacked by the entrance to his dorm room. “Darn it,” he said as he jiggled the key in the door’s lock. Had they even given him the right key?

“Hey,” a voice said behind him, and Matt jerked, tumbling a suitcase down onto the floor. “Whoops, sorry about that. Are you Matt?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, giving the key one last twist and, just like that, the door final y opened. He turned, smiling. “Are you Christopher?” The school had told him his roommate’s name and that he was on the footbal team, too, but the two of them hadn’t gotten in touch. Christopher looked okay. He was a big guy with a linebacker build, friendly smile, and short sandy hair that he scrubbed at with one hand as he stepped back to make way for the cheerful middle-aged couple fol owing him.

“Hi there, you must be Matt,” said the woman, who was carrying a rol ed-up rug and a Dalcrest pennant. “I’m Jennifer, Christopher’s mom, and this is Mark, his dad. It’s so nice to meet you. Are your folks here?”

“Uh, no, I just drove up by myself,” Matt said. “My hometown, Fel ’s Church, isn’t too far from here.” He grabbed his suitcases and lugged them into the room, hurrying to get out of Christopher’s family’s way.

Their room was pretty smal . There was a bunk bed along one wal , a narrow space in the middle of the room, and two desks and dressers crammed side by side on the other wal .

The girls and Stefan were no doubt living in luxury, but it hadn’t seemed quite right to let Stefan use his Power to get Matt a good housing assignment. It was bad enough that Matt took someone else’s slot as a student and someone else’s space on the footbal team.

Stefan had talked him into doing just that. “Look, Matt,” he’d said, his green eyes serious. “I understand how you feel. I don’t like influencing people to get what I want either.

But the fact is, we need to stay together. With the lines of Power that run through this whole part of the country, we have to be on our guard. We’re the only ones who know.” Matt had to agree, when Stefan put it like that. He’d turned down the plush dorm room Stefan had offered to arrange for him, though, and taken what the housing office assigned him. He had to hang on to at least a shred of his honor. Plus if he was in the same dorm as the others, it would have been hard to say no to rooming with Stefan. He liked Stefan fine, but the idea of living with him, of watching him with Elena, the girl Matt had lost and stil loved despite al that had happened, was too much. And it would be fun to meet new people, to expand his horizons a bit after spending his whole life in Fel ’s Church.

But the room was awful y smal .

And Christopher seemed to have a ton of stuff. He and his parents went up and down the stairs, hauling in a sound system, a little refrigerator, a TV, a Wii. Matt shoved his own three suitcases into the corner and helped them bring it al in.

“We’l share the fridge and the entertainment stuff, of course,” Christopher told him, glancing at Matt’s bags, which clearly contained nothing but clothes and maybe some sheets and towels. “If we can figure out where to put it al .” Christopher’s mom was prowling around the room, directing his dad on where to move things.

“Great, thanks—” Matt started to say, but Christopher’s dad, having final y managed to wedge the TV on top of one of the dressers, turned to look at Matt.

“Hey,” he said. “It just hit me—if you’re from Fel ’s Church, you guys were the state champions last year. You must be some player. What position do you play?”

“Uh, thanks,” Matt said. “I play quarterback.”

“First string?” Christopher’s dad asked him.

Matt blushed. “Yeah.”

Now they were al staring at him.

“Wow,” Christopher said. “No offense, man, but why are you going to Dalcrest? I mean, I’m excited just to play col ege bal , but you could have gone, like, Division One.” Matt shrugged uncomfortably. “Um, I had to stay close to home.”

Christopher opened his mouth to say something else, but his mother gave a tiny shake of her head and he closed it again. Great, Matt thought. They probably thought he had family problems.

He had to admit it warmed him a little, though, to be with people who acknowledged what he’d given up. The girls and Stefan didn’t real y understand footbal . Even though Stefan had played on their high school team with him, his mind-set was stil very much that of the Renaissance European aristocrat: sports were enjoyable pastimes that kept the body fit. Stefan didn’t real y care.

But Christopher and his family—they got what it meant for Matt to pass up the chance of playing for a top-ranked col ege footbal team.

“So,” Christopher said, a little too suddenly, as if he’d been trying to think of a way to change the subject, “which bed do you want? I don’t care whether I take top or bottom.” They al looked over at the bunk beds, and that’s when Matt saw it for the first time. It must have arrived while he was downstairs helping with Christopher’s luggage. A cream-colored envelope sat on the bottom bunk, made of a fancy thick paper stock like a wedding invitation. On the front was written in cal igraphy “Matthew Honeycutt.”

“What’s that, dear?” Christopher’s mom asked curiously.

Matt shrugged, but he was beginning to feel a thrum of excitement in his chest. He’d heard something about invitations certain people at Dalcrest received, ones that just mysteriously appeared, but he’d always thought they were a myth.

Flipping the envelope over, he saw a blue wax seal bearing the impression of an ornate letter V.

Huh. After gazing at the envelope for a second, he folded it and slipped it into his back pocket. If it was what he thought it was, he was supposed to open it alone.

“I guess that’s fate tel ing us the bottom bunk’s yours,” Christopher said amiably.

“Yeah,” Matt said distractedly, his heart pounding hard.

“Excuse me for a minute, okay?”

He ducked out into the hal , took a deep breath, and opened the envelope. Inside was more thick fancy paper with cal igraphy on it and a narrow piece of black fabric. He read:

Fortis Aeturnus

For generations, the best and brightest of Dalcrest College have been chosen to join the Vitale Society. This year, you have been selected.

Should you wish to accept this honor and become one of us, come tomorrow night at eight o’clock to the main campus gate. You must be blindfolded and dressed as befits a serious occasion.

Tell no one.

The little pulse of excitement in Matt’s chest increased until he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He sank down along the wal and took a deep breath.

He’d heard stories about the Vitale Society. The handful of wel -known actors, famous writers, and great Civil War general that Dalcrest counted among their alumni were al rumored to have been members. To belong to the legendary society was supposed to ensure your success, to link you to an incredible secret network that would help you throughout your life.

More than that, there was talk of mysterious deeds, of secrets revealed only to members. And they were supposed to have amazing parties.

But they were just gossip, the stories of the Vitale Society, and no one ever straight-out admitted to belonging to it. Matt always figured the secret society was a myth. The col ege itself so vehemently denied any knowledge of the Vitale Society that Matt suspected the admissions people might have made the whole thing up, trying to make the col ege seem a little more exclusive and mysterious than it real y was.

But here—he looked down at the creamy paper clutched in his hands—was evidence that al the stories might be true. It could be a joke, he supposed, a trick someone was playing on a few of the freshmen. It didn’t feel like a joke, though. The seal, the wax, the expensive paper; it seemed like a lot of effort to go to if the invitation wasn’t genuine.

The most exclusive, most secret society at Dalcrest was real. And they wanted him.

4

“Trust Bonnie to meet a cute guy on her first day at col ege,” Elena said. She careful y drew the nail-polish brush over Meredith’s toenail, painting it a tannish pink.

They’d spent the evening at freshman orientation with the rest of their dormmates, and now al they wanted to do was relax. “Are you sure this is the color it’s supposed to be?” Elena asked Meredith. “It doesn’t look like a summer sunset to me.”

“I like it,” Meredith said, wiggling her toes.

“Careful! I don’t want polish on my new bedspread,” Elena warned.

“Zander is just gorgeous,” Bonnie said, stretching out luxuriously on her own bed on the other side of the room.

“Wait til you meet him.”

Meredith smiled at Bonnie. “Isn’t it an amazing feeling?

When you’ve just met somebody and you feel like there’s something between you, but you’re not quite sure what’s going to happen?” She gave an exaggerated sigh, rol ing her eyes up in a mock swoon. “It’s al about the anticipation, and you get a thril just seeing him. I love that first part.” Her tone was light, but there was something lonely in her face.

Elena was sure that, as composed and calm as Meredith was, she was already missing Alaric.

“Sure,” Bonnie said amiably. “It’s awesome, but I’d like to get to the next stage for once. I want to have a relationship where we know each other real y wel , a serious boyfriend instead of just a crush. Like you guys have. That’s even better, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” said Meredith. “But you shouldn’t try to hurry through the we-just-met stuff, because you’ve only got a limited time to enjoy it. Right, Elena?” Elena dabbed a cotton bal around the edges of Meredith’s polished toenails and thought about when she had first met Stefan. With al that had happened since then, it was hard to believe it was only a year ago.

What she remembered most was her own

determination to have Stefan. No matter what had gotten in her way, she had known with a clear, firm purpose that he would be hers. And then, in those early days, once he was hers, it was glorious. It felt as if the missing piece of herself had slotted into place.

“Right,” she said final y, answering Meredith. “Afterward, things get more complicated.”

At first, Stefan had been a prize that Elena wanted to win: sophisticated and mysterious. He was a prize Caroline wanted, too, and Elena would never let Caroline beat her.

But then Stefan had let Elena see the pain and passion, the integrity and nobility, he held inside him and she had forgotten the competition and loved Stefan with her whole heart.

And now? She stil loved Stefan with everything she had, and he loved her. But she loved Damon, too, and sometimes she understood him—plotting, manipulative, dangerous Damon—better than she did Stefan. Damon was like her in some ways: he, too, would be relentless in pursuing what he wanted. She and Damon connected, she thought, on some deep core instinctive level that Stefan was too good, too honorable to understand. How could you love two people at the same time?

“Complicated,” Bonnie scoffed. “More complicated than never being sure if somebody likes you or not? More complicated than having to wait by the phone to see if you have a date for Saturday night or not? I’m ready for complicated. Did you know that forty-nine percent of col ege-educated women meet their future husbands on campus?”

“You made that statistic up,” Meredith said, rising and picking her way toward her own bed, careful not to smudge her polish.

Bonnie shrugged. “Okay, maybe I did. But I bet it’s a real y high percentage, anyway. Didn’t your parents meet right here, Elena?”

“They did,” Elena said. “I think they had a class together sophomore year.”

“How romantic,” Bonnie said happily.

“Wel , if you get married, you have to meet your future spouse somewhere,” Meredith said. “And there are a lot of possible future spouses at col ege.” She frowned at the silky cover on her bed. “Do you think I can dry my nails faster if I use the hair dryer, or wil it mess up the polish? I want to go to sleep.”

She examined the hair dryer as if it were the focal point of some science experiment, her face intent. Bonnie was watching her upside down, her head tipped back off the end of the bed and her red curls brushing the floor, tapping her feet energetical y against the wal . Elena felt a great swel of love for both of them. She remembered the countless sleepovers they’d had al through school, back before their lives had gotten … complicated.

“I love having the three of us together,” she said. “I hope the whole year is going to be just like this.” That was when they first heard the sirens.

Meredith peered through the blinds, col ecting facts, trying to analyze what was going on outside Pruitt House. An ambulance and several police cars were parked across the street, their lights silently blinking red and blue. Floodlights lit the quad a ghastly white, and it was crawling with police officers.

“I think we should go out there,” she said.

“Are you kidding me?” Bonnie asked from behind her.

“Why would we want to do that? I’m in my pajamas.” Meredith glanced back. Bonnie was standing, hands on hips, brown eyes indignant. She was indeed wearing cute ice-cream-cone-printed pajamas.

“Wel , quick, put on some jeans,” Meredith said.

“But why?” asked Bonnie plaintively.

Meredith’s eyes met Elena’s across the room, and they nodded briskly to each other.

“Bonnie,” Elena said patiently, “we have a responsibility to check out everything that’s going on around here. We might just want to be normal col ege students, but we know the truth about the world—the truth other people don’t realize, about vampires and werewolves and monsters—

and we need to make sure that what’s going on out there isn’t part of that truth. If it’s a human problem, the police wil deal with it. But if it’s something else, it’s our responsibility.”

“Honestly,” grumbled Bonnie, already reaching for her clothes, “you two have a—a saving-people complex or something. After I take psychology, I’m going to diagnose you.”

“And then we’l be sorry,” Meredith said agreeably.

On their way out the door, Meredith grabbed the long velvet case that held her fighting stave. The stave was special, designed to fight both human and supernatural adversaries, and was made to specifications handed down through her family for generations. Only a Sulez could have a staff like this. She caressed it through the case, feeling the sharp spikes of different materials that dotted its ends: silver for werewolves, wood for vampires, white ash for Old Ones, iron for al eldritch creatures, tiny hypodermics to fil with poisons. She knew she couldn’t take the stave out of its case on the quad, not surrounded by police officers and innocent bystanders, but she felt stronger when she could feel the weight of it in her hand.

Outside, the mugginess of the Virginia September day had given way to a chil y night, and the girls walked quickly toward the crowd around the quad.

“Don’t look like we’re heading straight over there,” Meredith whispered. “Pretend we’re going to one of the buildings. Like the student center.” She angled off slightly, as if she was heading past the quad, and then led them closer, glancing over at the police tape surrounding the grass, pretending to be surprised by the activity next to them. Elena and Bonnie fol owed her lead, looking around wide-eyed.

“Can I help you ladies?” one of the campus security men asked, stepping forward to block their progress.

Elena smiled at him appealingly. “We were just on our way to the student center, and we saw everyone out here.

What’s going on?”

Meredith craned her head to look past him. Al she could see were groups of police officers talking to one another and more campus security. Some officers were on their hands and knees, searching careful y through the grass. Crime scene analysts, she thought vaguely, wishing she knew more about police procedure than what she’d seen on TV.

The security officer stepped sideways to block her view.

“Nothing serious, just a girl who ran into a bit of trouble walking out here alone.” He smiled reassuringly.

“What kind of trouble?” Meredith asked, trying to see for herself.

He shifted, blocking her line of sight again. “Nothing to worry about. Everyone’s going to be okay this time.”

“This time?” Bonnie asked, frowning.

He cleared his throat. “You girls just stick together at night, okay? Make sure to walk in pairs or groups when you’re out around campus, and you’l be fine. Basic safety stuff, right?”

“But what happened to the girl? Where is she?” Meredith asked.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said, more firmly this time.

His eyes were on the black velvet case in Meredith’s hand.

“What have you got in there?”

“Pool cue,” she lied. “We’re going to play pool in the student center.”

“Have a good time,” he said, in a tone of voice that was clearly a dismissal.

“We wil ,” Elena said sweetly, her hand on Meredith’s arm. Meredith opened her mouth to ask another question, but Elena was pul ing her away from the officer and toward the student center.

“Hey,” Meredith objected quietly, when they were out of earshot. “I wasn’t done asking questions.”

“He wasn’t going to tel us anything,” Elena said. Her mouth was a grim straight line. “I bet a lot more happened than someone getting into a little trouble. Did you see the ambulances?”

“We’re not real y going to the student center, are we?” Bonnie asked plaintively. “I’m too tired.” Meredith shook her head. “We’d better loop back behind the buildings to our dorm, though. It’l look suspicious if we head right back where we came from.”

“That was creepy, right?” Bonnie said. “Do you think”—

she paused, and Meredith could see her swal ow—“do you think something real y bad happened?”

“I don’t know,” Meredith said. “He said a girl ran into a little bit of trouble. That could mean anything.”

“Do you think someone attacked her?” Elena asked.

Meredith shot her a significant look. “Maybe,” she said.

“Or maybe something did.”

“I hope not,” Bonnie said, shivering. “I’ve had enough somethings to last me forever.” They’d crossed behind the science building, down a darker, lonelier path, and circled back toward their dorm, its brightly lit entryway like a beacon before them. Al three sped up, heading for the light.

“I’ve got my key,” Bonnie said, feeling in her jeans pocket. She opened the door, and she and Elena hurried into the dorm.

Meredith paused and glanced back toward the busy quad, then, past it, at the dark sky above campus.

Whatever “trouble” had happened, and whether the cause was human or something else, she knew she needed to be in top condition, ready to fight.

She could almost hear her father’s voice saying, “Fun time is over, Meredith.” It was time to focus on her training again, time to work toward her destiny as a protector, as a Sulez, to keep innocent people safe from the darkness.

5

The sun was way too bright. Bonnie shielded her eyes with one hand and glanced anxiously around as she walked across the quad toward the bookstore. It had taken her a long time to fal asleep after getting back to their room the night before. What if some crazy person was stalking the campus?

It’s broad daylight, she told herself. There are people everywhere. I have nothing to be afraid of. But bad things could happen during the day, too. Girls got lured into cars by horrible men, or hit over the head and taken to dark places. Monsters didn’t just lurk in the night. After al , she knew several vampires who strol ed around during the day al the time. Damon and Stefan didn’t scare her, not anymore, but there were other daytime monsters. I just want to feel safe for once, she thought wistful y.

She was coming up on the area the police had been searching the night before, stil blocked off with yel ow tape.

Students were standing nearby in groups of two or three, talking in low voices. Bonnie spied a reddish-brown stain across the path that she thought might be blood, and she walked faster as she passed it.

There was a rustling in the bushes. Bonnie sped up even more, picturing a wild-eyed attacker hiding in the undergrowth, and glanced around nervously. No one was looking in her direction. Would they help her if she screamed?

She risked another look back at the bush—should she just take off running?—and stopped, embarrassed by the furious thumping of her heart. A cute little squirrel hopped hesitantly from under the branches. It sniffed the air, then dashed across the path and up a tree behind the police tape.

“Honestly, Bonnie McCul ough, you’re a moron,” Bonnie muttered to herself. A guy passing her in the other direction overheard her and snickered, making Bonnie blush furiously.

By the time she got to the bookstore, she’d gotten her blushing under control. Having the typical redhead’s complexion was a pain—everything she felt was broadcast by the flush or paleness of her skin. With any luck, though, she’d be able to handle a simple trip to buy books without humiliating herself.

Bonnie had started getting acquainted with the bookstore when she’d had her shopping spree yesterday, but she hadn’t real y investigated the book side of the store.

Today, though, she had the book list for the classes she’d registered for, and she needed to stock up for some serious studying. She’d never been a huge fan of school, but maybe col ege would be different. With a resolute squaring of her shoulders, she turned determinedly away from the shiny stuff and toward the textbooks.

The book lists were awful y long, though. She found the fat Intro to Psychology textbook with a sense of satisfaction: this would definitely give her the terminology to diagnose her friends. The freshman English seminar she was assigned to covered a slew of novels, so she wandered through the fiction section, pul ing The Red and the Black, Oliver Twist, and The Age of Innocence off the shelves as she passed.

She rounded a corner in search of the rest of the Ws, intent on adding To the Lighthouse to her growing stack of books, and froze.

Zander. Beautiful, beautiful Zander was draped graceful y next to a bookshelf, his white-blond head bent over a book. He hadn’t seen her yet, so Bonnie immediately ducked back into the previous aisle.

She leaned against the wal , breathing hard. She could feel her cheeks heating up again, that awful tel tale blush.

Careful y, she peeked back around the corner. He hadn’t noticed her; he was stil reading intently. He was wearing a gray T-shirt today, and his soft-looking hair curled a bit at the nape of his neck. His face looked sort of sad with those gorgeous blue eyes hidden beneath his long lashes and no sign of that fabulous smile. There were dark shadows under his eyes.

Bonnie’s first instinct was to sneak away. She could wait and find the Virginia Woolf book tomorrow; it wasn’t like she was going to read it today. She real y didn’t want Zander to think she was stalking him. It would be better if he saw her somewhere, when she wasn’t paying attention. If he approached her, she’d know he was interested.

After al , maybe he wasn’t interested in Bonnie. He’d been kind of flirtatious when he’d run into her, but he’d nearly knocked her down. What if he was just being friendly? What if he didn’t even remember Bonnie?

Nope, better to take off this time and wait til she was better prepared. She wasn’t even wearing eyeliner, for heaven’s sake. Making up her mind, Bonnie turned firmly away.

But, on the other hand…

Bonnie hesitated. There’d been a connection between them, hadn’t there? She’d felt something when her eyes met his. And he’d smiled at her like he was real y seeing her, past the fluff and fluster.

And what about the resolution she’d made the day before, walking to her dorm from this very same bookstore? If she was going to become a terrific, confident, stepping-out-of-the-shadows kind of person, she couldn’t run away every time she saw a boy she liked.

Bonnie had always admired the way that Elena managed to get what she wanted. Elena just went after it and nothing got in her way. When Stefan had first come to Fel ’s Church, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with Elena, certainly not to fal into her arms and start some kind of amazing eternal romance. But Elena hadn’t cared. She was going to have Stefan, even if it kil ed her.

And, wel , it had kil ed her, hadn’t it?

Bonnie shivered. Bonnie shook her head a little. The point was, if you wanted to find love, you couldn’t be afraid of trying, could you?

She stuck her chin determinedly into the air. At least she wasn’t blushing anymore. Her cheeks were so cold, she was probably as white as a snowwoman, but she definitely wasn’t blushing. So that was something.

Before she could change her mind again, she walked quickly around the corner back into the aisle where Zander stood reading.

“Hi!” she said, her voice squeaking a tiny bit. “Zander!” He looked up, and that amazing, beautiful smile spread across his face.

“Bonnie!” he said enthusiastical y. “Hey, I’m real y glad to see you. I was thinking about you earlier.”

“You were?” Bonnie asked, and immediately wanted to kick herself at how overly enthusiastic she sounded.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I was.” His sky-blue eyes held hers. “I was wishing I’d gotten your phone number.”

“You were?” Bonnie asked again, and this time didn’t even worry about how she sounded.

“Sure,” he said. He scuffed his feet against the carpet, like he was a little nervous, and a warmth blossomed inside Bonnie. He was nervous talking to her! “I was thinking,” Zander went on, “maybe we could do something sometime.

I mean, if you wanted to.”

“Oh,” Bonnie said. “I mean, yes! I would want to. If you did.”

Zander smiled again, and it was as if their little corner of the fiction section was lit up with a glowing light. Bonnie had to keep herself from staggering backward, he was so gorgeous.

“How about this weekend?” Zander asked, and Bonnie, feeling suddenly as light and buoyant as though she could float up into the air, smiled back.

Meredith stepped her left foot behind her and raised her right heel, moving into a back stance as she brought her hands up sharply, fists together, in a blocking move. Then she slid her foot sideways into a front stance and punched forward with the fist of her left hand. She loved running through a taekwondo form. Each movement was choreographed, and the only thing to do was to practice over and over until the whole form flowed in a model of precision, grace, and control. Taekwondo forms were perfectible, and Meredith enjoyed perfection.

The most glorious thing about them was that once she knew her forms so wel that they were as natural as breathing, she could be ready for anything. In a fight, she would be able to sense what her opponent’s next move would be and counter with a block or a kick or a punch without even thinking.

She turned swiftly, blocked high with her right hand and low with her left. It was the preparation, Meredith knew. If she was so prepared that her body could sense what move she needed to make without her brain having to get involved, then she would be able to truly protect herself and everyone else around her.

A few weeks ago, when she and her friends had been under attack from the phantom and she’d sprained her ankle, only Stefan had been left with Power enough to defend Fel ’s Church.

Stefan, a vampire.

Meredith’s lips tightened as she automatical y kicked forward with her right foot, slid into a tiger stance, and blocked with her left hand.

She liked Stefan, and she trusted him, she real y did, but stil … She could picture generation upon generation of Sulezes rol ing over in their graves, cursing her, if they knew that she had left herself and her friends so vulnerable, with only a vampire between themselves and danger. Vampires were the enemy.

Not Stefan, of course. She knew, despite al her training, that she could put her faith in Stefan. Damon, on the other hand… However useful Damon had been in a couple of battles, however reasonably pleasant and, frankly, out-of-character he had behaved for the last few weeks, Meredith couldn’t bring herself to trust him.

But if she trained hard, if she perfected herself as a warrior, Meredith wouldn’t have to. She moved into a right front stance and, sharp and clean, punched forward with her right hand.

“Nice punch,” said a voice behind her.

Meredith turned to see a short-haired African American girl leaning against the door of the practice room, watching her.

“Thanks,” said Meredith, surprised.

The girl strol ed into the room. “What are you,” she asked, “a black belt?”

“Yes,” Meredith said, and couldn’t help adding proudly,

“in taekwondo and karate.”

“Hmm,” the girl said, her eyes sparkling. “I do taekwondo and aikido myself. My name’s Samantha. I’ve been looking for a sparring partner. Interested?” Despite the casualness of her tone, Samantha was bouncing eagerly on the bal s of her feet, a mischievous smile flickering at the corners of her mouth, and Meredith’s eyes narrowed.

“Sure,” she said, her attitude light. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Samantha’s smile broadened. She kicked off her shoes and stepped onto the practice mat next to Meredith. They faced off, assessing each other. She was a head shorter than Meredith, thin, but wiry and sleekly muscled, and she moved as graceful y as a cat.

The anticipation in the girl’s eyes betrayed Samantha’s belief that Meredith would be easy to beat. She was thinking that Meredith was one of those trainees who was al form and technique with no real fighting instinct. Meredith knew that kind of fighter wel , had met them often enough in competitions. If that was what Samantha thought of Meredith, she was in for a surprise.

“Ready?” Samantha asked. At Meredith’s nod, she immediately launched a punch while bringing the opposite-side foot around in an attempt to sweep Meredith off her feet. Meredith reacted instinctively, blocking the blow, dodging the foot, then sweeping a kick of her own, which Samantha avoided, grinning with simple pleasure.

They exchanged a few more blows and kicks, and, against her wil , Meredith was impressed. This girl was fast, faster than most of the fighters Meredith had faced before, even at the black-belt level, and much stronger than she looked.

She was too cocky, though, an aggressive fighter instead of a defensive one; the way she’d hurried to strike the first blow showed that. Meredith could use that cockiness against her.

Samantha shifted her weight, and Meredith slid in below her defenses, giving a fast spin heel kick that hit Samantha firmly on the upper thigh. She staggered a bit, and Meredith moved out of range quickly.

Samantha’s face changed immediately. She was getting angry now, Meredith could tel , and that, too, was a weakness. She was frowning, her lips tight, while Meredith kept her own face purposeful y blank. Samantha’s fists and feet were moving quickly, but she lost some accuracy as she sped up.

Meredith pretended to fal back under the assault, feinting to keep her opponent off-balance, al owing herself to be backed toward a corner while stil blocking Samantha’s blows. When she was almost cornered, she jammed her arm against Samantha’s fist, stopping her before she could ful y extend her blow, and swept a foot under hers.

Samantha tripped, caught by Meredith’s low kick, and fel heavily to the mat. She lay there and just stared up at Meredith for a moment, face stunned, while Meredith hovered over her, suddenly uncertain. Had she hurt Samantha? Was the girl going to be angry and storm off?

Then Samantha’s face blossomed into a wide, glowing smile. “That was awesome!” she said. “Can you show me that move?”

6

Cautiously, Matt felt along the path with his foot until he found grass, then inched his way onto it, holding his hands out in front of him until he was touching the rough bark of a tree. There probably weren’t too many people hanging around outside the main campus gate, but he’d just as soon have no one see him, blindfolded, dressed in his weddings-and-funerals suit and tie, and looking, he was sure, like an idiot.

On the other hand, he did want whoever was coming to get him to be able to spot him. It would be better to look like an idiot out in the open now and become part of the Vitale Society than to hide and spend the rest of the night blindfolded in the bushes. Matt inched his way back toward where he thought the gate must be and stumbled. Waving his hands, he managed to catch his balance again.

He suddenly wished he had told someone where he was going. What if somebody other than the Vitale Society had left him the note? What if this was a plan to get him on his own, some kind of trap? Matt ran his finger beneath his sweaty too-tight col ar. After al the weird things that had happened to him in the last year, he couldn’t help being paranoid.

If he vanished now, his friends would never know what had happened to him. He thought of Elena’s laughing blue eyes, her clear, searching gaze. She would miss him if he disappeared, he knew, even if she had never loved him the way he wanted her to. Bonnie’s laugh would lose its carefree note if Matt were gone, and Meredith would become more tense and fierce, push herself harder. He mattered to them.

The Vitale Society’s invitation was clear, though: tel no one. If he wanted to get in the game, he had to play by their rules. Matt understood rules.

Without warning, someone—two someones—grabbed his arms, one on each side. Instinctively, Matt struggled, and he heard a grunt of exasperation from the person on his right.

“Fortis aeturnus,” hissed the person on his left like a password, his breath warm on Matt’s ear.

Matt stopped fighting. That was the slogan on the letter from the Vitale Society, wasn’t it? It was Latin, he was pretty sure. He wished he’d taken the time to find out what it meant. He let the people holding his arms guide him across the grass and onto the road.

“Step up,” the one on his left whispered, and Matt moved forward careful y, climbing into what seemed to be the back of a van. Firm hands pushed his head down to keep him from banging it on the van’s roof, and Matt was reminded of that terrible time this past summer when he’d been arrested, accused of attacking Caroline. The cops had pushed his head down just like that when they put him handcuffed into the back of the squad car. His stomach sank with remembered dread, but he shook it off. The Guardians had erased everyone’s memories of Caroline’s false accusations, just as they’d changed everything else.

The hands guided him to a seat and strapped a seat belt around him. There seemed to be people sitting on each side of him, and Matt opened his mouth to speak—to say what, he didn’t know.

“Be stil ,” the mysterious voice whispered, and Matt closed his mouth obediently. He strained his eyes to see something past the blindfold, even a hint of light and shadow, but everything was dark. Footsteps clattered across the floor of the van; then the doors slammed, and the engine started up.

Matt sat back. He tried to keep track of the turns the van took but lost count of the rights and lefts after a few minutes and instead just sat quietly, waiting to see what would happen next.

After about fifteen minutes, the van came to a halt. The people on either side of Matt sat up straighter, and he tensed, too. He heard the front doors open and close and then footsteps come around the van before the back doors opened.

“Remain silent,” the voice that spoke to him earlier ordered. “You wil be guided toward the next stage of your journey.”

The person next to Matt brushed against him as he rose, and Matt heard him stumble on what sounded like gravel underfoot as he was led away. He listened alertly, but, once that person had left, Matt heard only the nervous shifting of the other people seated in the van. He jumped when hands took his arms once more. Somehow they’d snuck up on him again; he hadn’t heard a thing.

The hands helped him out of the van, then guided him across what felt like a sidewalk or courtyard, where his shoes thudded against first gravel, then pavement. His guides continued to lead him up a series of stairs, through some kind of hal way, then back down again. Matt counted three flights down before he was stopped again.

“Wait here,” the voice said, and then his guides stepped away.

Matt tried to figure out where he was. He could hear people, probably his companions from the van, shifting quietly, but no one spoke. Judging by the echoes their little motions produced, they were in a large space: a gym? a basement? Probably a basement, after al those stairs down.

From behind him came the quiet click of a door closing.

“You may now remove your blindfolds,” a new voice, deep and confident, said.

Matt untied his blindfold and looked around, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. It was a faint, indirect light, which supported his basement theory, but if this was a basement, it was the fanciest one he’d ever seen.

The room was huge, stretching into dimness at its other end, and the floor and wal s were paneled in a dark, heavy wood. Arches and pil ars supported the ceiling at intervals, and there were some kinds of carvings on them: the clever, twisted face of what might be a sprite leered at him from a pil ar; the figure of a running deer spanned one archway.

Red-velvet-seated chairs and heavy wooden tables lined the wal s. Matt and the others were facing a great central archway, topped by a large ornate letter V made of different kinds of glittering, highly polished metals elaborately welded together. Below the V ran the same motto that had appeared on the letter: fortis aeturnus.

Glancing at the people near him, Matt saw that he wasn’t the only one feeling confused and apprehensive.

There were maybe fifteen other people standing there, and they seemed like they came from different classes: there was no way that tal , stooping guy with the ful beard was a freshman.

A smal , round-faced girl with short ringlets of brown hair caught Matt’s eye. She raised her eyebrows at him, widening her mouth in an exaggerated expression of bewilderment. Matt grinned back at her, his spirits lightening. He shifted closer to her and had just opened his mouth to whisper an introduction when he was interrupted.

“Welcome,” said the deep, authoritative voice that had instructed them to take off their blindfolds, and a young man stepped up to the central archway, directly below the huge V. Behind him came a circle of others, seemingly a mix of guys and girls, al clothed in black and wearing masks. The effect ought to have been over the top, Matt thought, but instead the masked figures seemed mysterious and aloof, and he suppressed a shiver.

The guy beneath the arch was the only one not wearing a mask. He was a bit shorter than the silent figures around him, with curly dark hair, and he smiled warmly as he stretched out his hands toward Matt and the others.

“Welcome,” he said again, “to a secret. You may have heard rumors of the Vitale Society, the oldest and most il ustrious organization of Dalcrest. This is a society often spoken of in whispers, but about which no one knows the truth. No one except its members. I am Ethan Crane, the current president of the Vitale Society, and I’m delighted that you have accepted our invitation.” He paused and looked around. “You have been invited to pledge because you are the best of the best. Each of you has different strengths.” He gestured to the tal , bearded guy Matt had noticed. “Stuart Covington here is the most bril iant scientific mind of the senior class, perhaps one of the most promising ones in the country. His articles on biogenetics have already been published in numerous journals.”

Ethan walked into the crowd and stopped next to Matt.

This close up, Matt could see that Ethan’s eyes were an almost golden hazel, ful of warmth. “Matt Honeycutt enters Dalcrest as a starting player on the footbal team after leading his high school to the state championship last year.

He could have had his choice of col ege footbal programs, and he chose to come to Dalcrest.” Matt ducked his head modestly, and Ethan squeezed his shoulder before walking on to stop next to the cute round-faced girl.

“Junior Chloe Pascal is, as those of you who attended last year’s campus art show know, the most talented artist on campus. Her dynamic, exciting sculptures have won her the Gershner Award for two years running.” He patted Chloe on the arm as she blushed.

Ethan went on, passing from one member of their little group to another, listing accomplishments. Matt was only half listening as he looked around at the rapt expressions on the faces of the other candidates, but he got the impression of a wide range of talents, and that this was indeed a gathering of the best of the best, an assembly of campus achievers. He seemed to be the only freshman.

He felt like Ethan had lit a glowing candle inside him: he, Matt, who had been the least special of his group of friends, was being singled out.

“As you can see,” Ethan said, circling back to the front of the group, “each of you has different skil s. Brains, creativity, athleticism, the ability to lead others. These qualities, when brought together, can make you the most elite and powerful group, not only on campus, but throughout life. The Vitale Society is an organization with a long history, and once you are a member of the society, you are one for life. Forever.” He held up one finger in caution, his face serious. “However, this meeting is but the first step on the road to becoming a Vitale. And it is a difficult road.” He smiled at them again. “I believe—we believe—that al of you have what it takes to become a Vitale. You would not have been invited to pledge if we did not think you were worthy.”

Matt straightened his shoulders and held his head high.

Least remarkable member of his group of friends or not, he’d saved the world—or at least his hometown—more than once. Even if he’d just been one of a team then, he was pretty sure he could handle whatever the Vitale Society could throw at him.

Ethan smiled directly at him. “If you are prepared to pledge the Vitale Society, to keep our secrets and earn our trust, step forward now.”

Without hesitating, Matt stepped forward. Chloe and the bearded guy—Stuart—stepped with him and, looking around, Matt saw that every one of the pledges had moved forward together.

Ethan came toward Matt and took hold of the lapel of his suit. “There,” he said, quickly pinning something on it and letting Matt go. “Wear this at al times, but discreetly.

You must keep your involvement with the society secret.

You wil be contacted. Congratulations.” He gave Matt a brief, genuine smile, and moved on to Chloe, saying the same thing to her.

Matt turned his lapel up and looked at the tiny dark blue V that Ethan had pinned to it. He’d never thought much before about fraternities, or secret societies, or any kind of organization that wasn’t a sports team. But this, being the only freshman the legendary Vitale Society wanted, was different. They saw something in him, something special.

7

“It would have been difficult to find a group of settlers less suited to building a brand-new colony than the one hundred and five men who sailed up the river from the Chesapeake Bay in 1607 and founded Jamestown,” Professor Campbel lectured from the front of Elena’s class. “While there were a couple of carpenters, a mason, a blacksmith, and maybe a dozen laborers among them, they were far outnumbered by the self-proclaimed gentlemen who made up almost half the party.”

He paused and smiled sardonical y. “‘Gentlemen’ in this case signifies men without a profession or trade. Many of them were lazy, idle men who had joined the London Company’s expedition in the hope of making a profit without realizing how much work founding a colony in the New World was real y going to entail. The settlers landed in the spring, and by the end of September, half of them were dead. By January, when Captain Newport returned with supplies and more colonists, only thirty-eight of the original settlers remained.”

Lazy and clueless, Elena wrote neatly in her notebook.

Dead in less than a year.

History of the South was her very first class, and col ege was already proving to be an eye-opening experience. Her high school teachers had always stressed courage and enterprise when they talked about Virginia’s early settlers, not haplessness.

“On Thursday, we’l talk about the legend of John Smith and Pocahontas. We’re going to discuss the facts and how they differ from Smith’s own account, as he had a tendency toward self-promotion,” Professor Campbel announced.

“The reading assignment is in the syl abus, so please come prepared for a lively discussion next time.” He was a plump, energetic little man, whose smal black eyes swept the class and landed unerringly on Elena as he added, “Elena Gilbert? Please stay after class for a moment. I’d like to speak with you.”

She had time to wonder, nervously, how he knew which of his students she was as the rest of the class straggled out of the room, a few stopping to ask him questions. She hadn’t spoken up during his lecture, and there were about fifty students in the class.

As the last of her classmates disappeared out the door, she approached his desk.

“Elena Gilbert,” he said avuncularly, his bright eyes searching hers. “I do apologize for taking up your time. But when I heard your name, I had to ask.” He paused, and Elena dutiful y replied, “Had to ask what, Professor?”

“I know the name Gilbert, you see,” he said, “and the more I look at you, the more you remind me of someone—

two someones—who were once very dear friends of mine.

Could you possibly be the daughter of Elizabeth Morrow and Thomas Gilbert?”

“Yes, I am,” said Elena slowly. She ought to have expected that she might meet someone who knew her parents here at Dalcrest, but it felt weird to hear their names, al the same.

“Ah!” He laced his fingers across his stomach and gave her a satisfied smile. “You look so much like Elizabeth. It startled me when you came into the room. But there’s a touch of Thomas in you, too, make no mistake about that.

Something about your expression, I think. Seeing you takes me right back to my own days as an undergraduate. She was a lovely girl, your mother, just lovely.”

“You went to school here with my parents?” Elena asked.

“I certainly did.” Professor Campbel ’s smal black eyes widened. “They were two of my best friends here. Two of the best friends I ever had. We lost track of each other over the years, I’m afraid, but I heard about the accident.” He unlaced his fingers and hesitantly touched her arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” Elena bit her lip. “They never talked much about their col ege years. Maybe as I got older, they would have…” Her voice trailed off, and she realized with dismay that her eyes had fil ed with tears.

“Oh, my dear, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Professor Campbel patted his jacket pockets. “And I’ve never got a tissue when I need one. Oh, please don’t cry.” His comical expression of distress made Elena give him a watery-eyed smile, and he relaxed and smiled in return. “There, that’s better,” he said. “You know, if you’d like to hear more about your parents and what they were like back then, I’d be happy to tel you about them. I’ve got al kinds of stories.”

“Real y?” Elena said hopeful y. She felt a flicker of excitement. Aunt Judith talked with Elena about her mother sometimes, but the memories she shared were mostly from their childhood. And Elena real y didn’t know much about her father’s past at al : he’d been an only child and his parents were dead.

“Certainly, certainly,” Professor Campbel said cheerful y. “Come to my office hours, and I’l tel you al about our hijinks back in the old days. I’m there every Monday and Friday from three to five, and I’l put out a welcome mat for you. Metaphorical y speaking, of course.

Serve you some of the horrible department coffee.”

“Thank you, Professor Campbel ,” Elena said. “I’d love that.”

“Cal me James,” he said. “It’s nothing at al . Anything I can do to make you feel at home here at Dalcrest.” He cocked his head to one side and looked at her quizzical y, his eyes as bright and curious as a smal animal’s. “After al , as the daughter of Elizabeth and Thomas, you must be a very special girl.”

The big black crow outside the open lecture-room window paced back and forth, clenching and unclenching its powerful talons around the branch on which it was perched.

Damon wanted to transform back into his vampire self, climb through the window, and have a quick but effective interrogation session with that professor.

But Elena wouldn’t like that.

She was so naive, dammit.

Yes, yes, she was his lovely, bril iant, clever princess, but she was ridiculously naive, too; they al were. Damon irritably preened his ruffled feathers back into iridescent sleekness. They were just so young. At this point, Damon was able to look back and say that no one learned anything in life, not for her first hundred years or so. You had to be immortal, real y, to have the time to learn to look out for yourself properly.

Take Elena, gazing so trustful y at her professor. After al she’d been through, al she’d seen, she was so easy to lul into complacency—al the man had to do was dangle the promise of information about her parents in front of her, and she’d happily trot off to meet him in his office whenever he suggested. Sentimental ninny. What could the man possibly tel her that would be of any real importance? Nothing could bring her parents back.

The professor wasn’t a danger, most likely. Damon had probed him with his Power, felt nothing but the flickering of a human mind, no dark surge of answering Power coming from the little man, no swel of disturbing or violent emotion.

But he couldn’t be sure, could he? Damon’s Power couldn’t detect every monster, couldn’t predict every twist of the human heart.

But the real problem here was Elena. She’d forgotten, clearly, that she’d lost al her Power, that the Guardians had stripped her back to being just a vulnerable, fragile mortal girl again. She thought, wrongly, that she could protect herself.

They were al like that. Damon had been infuriated at first to slowly realize that he was starting to feel like al of them were his humans. Not just his lovely Elena and the little redbird, but all of them, the witch Mrs. Flowers and the hunter and that meathead of a boy as wel . Those last two didn’t even like him, but he felt compel ed to keep an eye on them, to prevent them from damaging themselves through their innate stupidity.

Damon wasn’t the one who wanted to be here. No, the

“let’s al join hands and dance off to further our educations together” idea wasn’t his, and he’d treated it with the proper scorn. He wasn’t Stefan. He wasn’t going to waste his time pretending to be one of the mortal children.

But he had found, to his dismay, that he didn’t want to lose them, either.

It was embarrassing. Vampires were not pack animals, not like humans. He wasn’t supposed to care what happened to them. These children should be prey, and nothing more.

But being dead and coming back, fighting the jealousy phantom and letting go of the sick envy and misery that had held him captive ever since he was a human, had changed Damon. With that hard bal of hate gone from the middle of his chest, where it had lived for so long, he found himself feeling lighter. Almost as if he … cared.

Embarrassing or not, it felt surprisingly comfortable, having this connection to the little group of humans. He’d have died—again—rather than admit it aloud, though.

He clacked his beak a few times as Elena said good-bye to her professor and left the classroom. Then Damon spread his wings and flapped down to a tree next to the building’s entrance.

Nearby, a thin young man was posting a flyer with a girl’s picture on another tree, and Damon flew over to get a closer look. Missing Student, the top of the flyer said, and below the picture were details of a nighttime disappearance: no clues, no leads, no evidence, no idea where nineteen-year-old Taylor Harrison might be.

Suspicion of foul play. The promise of a reward from her anxious family for information leading to her safe return.

Damon let out a rough caw. There was something wrong here. He’d known it already—had felt something a little off about this campus as soon as he’d arrived two days ago, although he hadn’t been able to quite put his finger on it. Why else would he have been so worried about his princess?

Elena came out of the building and started across the quad, tucking her long golden hair behind her ears, oblivious to the black crow that swooped from tree to tree above her. Damon was going to find out what was going on here, and he was going to do it before whatever it was touched any of his humans.

Especial y Elena.

8

“Ugh, I don’t think there’s a single thing on the hot-lunch bar I’d ever consider eating,” Elena said to Stefan. “Half the stuff I can’t even identify.” Stefan watched patiently as she passed on to the salad bar.

“This isn’t much better,” she said, lifting a watery spoonful of cottage cheese and letting it slop back into the container for emphasis. “I thought the food at col ege would be more edible than in our high school cafeteria, but apparently I was wrong.”

Stefan made a vague sound of agreement and looked around for a place for them to sit. He wasn’t eating. Human food didn’t have much taste for him now, and he’d used his Power to cal down a dove to his balcony that morning. That had provided enough blood to hold him until the evening, when he would need to hunt again.

Once Elena final y made herself a salad, he led her to the empty table he’d spotted.

She kissed him before she sat down and a shiver of delight ran through him as their minds touched. The familiar link between them slid into place, and he felt Elena’s joy, her contentment at being with him and at their new, nearly normal, lives. Below this, a touch of excitement fizzed through her, and Stefan sent a questioning thought between them, wondering what had happened since they’d seen each other that morning.

Elena broke the kiss and answered his unspoken question.

“Professor Campbel , my history professor, knew my parents when they were in col ege,” she said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were bright, and Stefan could sense how big this was for her. “He was a real y good friend of theirs. He can tel me stories about them, parts of their lives I never knew before.”

“That’s great,” Stefan said, pleased for her. “How was the class?”

“It was al right,” Elena said, beginning to eat her salad.

“We’re talking about the colonial days for the first couple of weeks.” She looked up, her fork poised in midair. “How about you? What was your philosophy class like?”

“Fine.” Stefan paused. Fine wasn’t real y what he meant. It had been strange to be sitting in a col ege classroom again. He’d attended col ege a few times during his long history, seen the changing fads in education. At first, his classmates had been a select number of wealthy young men, and now there was a more diverse mix of boys and girls. But there was an essential sameness to al those experiences. The professor lecturing, the students either bored or eager. A certain shal owness of thought, a shy ducking away from exposing deeper feelings.

Damon was right. Stefan didn’t belong here; he was just playing a role, again. Kil ing some of his limitless time. But Elena—he looked at her, her shining blue eyes fixed on him

—she did belong here. She deserved the chance at a normal life, and he knew she wouldn’t have come to col ege without him.

Could he say any of this to her? He didn’t want to dim the excitement in those lapis lazuli eyes, but he had sworn to himself that he would always be honest with her, would treat her as an equal. He opened his mouth, hoping to explain some of what he felt.

“Did you hear about Daniel Greenwater?” a girl asked nearby, her voice high with curiosity as she and her friends slid into the empty chairs on the other end of the table.

Stefan closed his mouth and turned his head to listen.

“Who’s Daniel Greenwater?” someone else asked.

“Look,” the first girl said, unfolding a newspaper she held. Glancing over, Stefan saw it was the campus paper.

“He’s a freshman, and he just vanished. He left the student center when it closed last night, and his roommate says he never came back to the room. It’s real y creepy.” Stefan’s eyes met Elena’s across the table, and she raised an eyebrow thoughtful y. Could this be something they should look into?

Another girl at the other end of the table shrugged. “He probably just got stressed out and went home. Or maybe his roommate kil ed him. You know you get automatic As if your roommate dies.”

“That’s a myth,” Stefan said absently, and the girls looked up at him in surprise. “Could I see the paper for a moment, please?”

They passed it over, and Stefan studied the picture on the front. A high school yearbook photo smiled up at him, a skinny floppy-haired guy with a slight overbite and friendly eyes. A face he recognized. He had thought the name sounded familiar.

“He lives in our dorm,” he said softly to Elena.

“Remember him from orientation? He seemed happy to be here. I don’t think he would have left, not of his own free wil .”

Elena stared at him, her wide eyes apprehensive now.

“Do you think something bad happened to him? There was something weird going on in the quad the first night we were here.” She swal owed. “They said a girl had gotten into some trouble, but the cops wouldn’t real y tel us anything. Do you think it might be related to Daniel Greenwater’s disappearance?”

“I don’t know,” Stefan said tightly, “but I’m worried. I don’t like anything out of the ordinary.” He stood up. “Are you ready to go?” Elena nodded, although half her lunch was stil on her tray. Stefan handed the paper politely back to the girls and fol owed Elena outside.

“Maybe we’re paranoid because we’re used to terrible things happening,” Elena said, once they were on the path heading back up the hil toward their dorm. “But people disappear al the time. Girls get harassed or attacked sometimes. It’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t mean there’s a sinister plot behind it al .”

Stefan paused, staring at a flyer stuck to a tree by the cafeteria. Missing Student, the caption said, with a picture of a girl beneath it. “Promise me you’l be careful, Elena,” he said. “Tel Meredith and Bonnie, too. And Matt. None of you should be wandering around campus by yourselves.

Not at night, anyway.”

Elena nodded, her face pale, staring at the picture on the flyer. Stefan felt a sharp pang of regret even through his anxiety. She had been so excited when they met for lunch, and now that enthusiasm had drained away.

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.” Elena 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 herself. 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.”

It was a nice view, Bonnie had to admit that. Below them, the campus stretched, leafy and green and mysterious.

If anyone else had brought her up here, though, she would have complained about the rusty fire escape and the concrete roof, suggested that maybe a date should involve going somewhere. This was a date, wasn’t it? She froze momentarily in a panic, trying to recal exactly what Zander had said when he suggested meeting here. She didn’t remember the words themselves, but they definitely had a date-y feel to them: she wasn’t a kid anymore, she knew when she was being asked out.

And Zander was so cute, it was worth making an effort.

“It’s pretty up here,” she said lamely and then, looking around at the flat dirty concrete, “I mean being so high up.”

“We’re closer to the stars,” Zander said, and took her hand. “Come on over here.” His hand was warm and strong, and Bonnie held on to it tightly. He was right, the stars were beautiful. It was cool to be able to see them more clearly, here above the trees.

He led her over to the corner of the roof, where a ratty old army blanket was spread out with a pizza box and some cans of soda. “Al the comforts of home,” he said.

Then, quietly, “I know this isn’t a very fancy date, Bonnie, but I wanted to share this with you. I thought you would appreciate what’s special about being up here.”

“I absolutely do,” Bonnie said, flattered. A secret little cheer went up inside her: Hurray! Zander definitely knows we’re on a date!

Pretty soon Bonnie found herself tucked up against Zander’s side, his arm around her shoulders, eating hot, greasily delicious pizza and looking at the stars.

“I come up here alone a lot,” Zander told her. “One time last year I just lay here and watched a big fat ful moon get swal owed up by the earth’s shadow in an eclipse. It was nearly pitch black without the light of the ful moon, but I could stil see its dark red shape in the sky.”

“The Vikings thought eclipses were caused by two wolves, one who wanted to eat the sun, and one who wanted to eat the moon,” Bonnie said idly. “I forget which one wanted to eat the moon, but whenever either a solar or a lunar eclipse happened, people were supposed to make a lot of noise to scare the wolf away.” Zander looked down at her. “That’s a random piece of information to know.” But he smiled as he said it.

Bonnie wriggled with delight under the sheer force of his smile. “I’m interested in mythology,” she said. “Druid and Celtic, mostly, but myths and stories in general. The Druids were into the moon, too: they had a whole astrology based on the lunar calendar.” She sat up straighter, enjoying the admiring look on Zander’s face. “Like, right now, from late August to late September, we’re in the month of the Artist Moon. But in a couple of weeks, we’l be in the month of the Dying Moon.”

“What does that mean?” Zander asked. He was very close to her, gazing straight into her eyes.

“Wel , it means it’s a time of endings,” Bonnie said. “It’s al about dying and sleep. The Druid year begins again after Hal oween.”

“Hmm.” Zander was stil watching her intently. “How do you know so much, Bonnie McCul ough?” A little smile played around his mouth.

“Um, my ancestors were Druids and Celtics,” Bonnie said, feeling stupid. “My grandmother told me we were descended from Druid priestesses, and that’s why I see things sometimes. My grandmother does, too.”

“Interesting,” Zander said softly. His tone grew lighter.

“So you see things, do you?”

“I real y do,” Bonnie said, seriously, staring back at him.

She hadn’t meant to tel him that. She didn’t want to weird him out, not on their first date, but she also didn’t want to lie to him.

So blue. Zander’s eyes were as deep as the sea, and she was fal ing farther and farther into them. There was nothing above her, nothing below, she was ceaselessly, gently fal ing.

With a wrench, Bonnie pul ed her eyes away from Zander’s. “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “That was weird. I think I almost fel asleep for a minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zander said, but his face looked stiff and strange. Then he flashed that warm, enchanting smile again and got to his feet. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Bonnie stood slowly. She felt a little strange stil , and she pressed her hand briefly against her forehead.

“Over here,” Zander said, tugging her by the other hand.

He led her to the corner of the roof and stepped up onto the narrow ledge running around it.

“Zander,” Bonnie said, horrified. “Come down! You might fal !”

“We won’t fal ,” Zander said, smiling down at her. “Climb on up.”

“Are you crazy?” Bonnie said. She’d never liked heights much. She remembered crossing a high, high bridge once with Damon and Elena. They’d had to if they were going to save Stefan, but she never would have been able to do it, except Damon had used his Power and convinced her she was an acrobat, a tightrope walker to whom heights were nothing. When he’d released her from his Power, after they crossed the bridge, her retroactive fear had been nauseating.

Stil , she’d made it across that bridge, hadn’t she? And she had promised herself she would be more confident, stronger, now that she was in col ege. She looked up at Zander, who was smiling at her, sweetly, eagerly, his hand extended. She took it and let him help her climb onto the ledge.

“Oh,” she said, once she was up there. The ground swam dizzyingly far below her, and she yanked her eyes away from it. “Oh. No, this is not a good idea.”

“Trust me,” Zander said, and took her other hand so that he was holding on to her securely. “I won’t let you fal .” Bonnie looked into his blue, blue eyes again and felt comforted. There was something so candid and straightforward in his gaze. “What should I do?” she asked, and was proud when her voice was steady.

“Close your eyes,” Zander said, and when she’d done that, “and pick your right foot up off the ledge.”

“What?” Bonnie asked, and almost opened her eyes again.

“Trust me,” Zander said again, and this time there was a rich undercurrent of laughter in his voice. Hesitantly, Bonnie lifted her foot.

Just then, the wind picked up, and Bonnie felt like it was about to scoop her off the ledge and throw her into the sky like a kite whose string had snapped. She tightened her grip on Zander’s hands.

“It’s al right,” he said soothingly. “It’s amazing, Bonnie, I promise. Just let yourself be. Life isn’t worth living if you don’t take risks.”

Inhaling deeply and then letting the breath out, Bonnie forced herself to relax. The wind was blowing her curls everywhere, whistling in her ears, tugging at her clothes and her raised leg. As she relaxed into it, she felt almost as if she was being lifted, gently, into the sky, the air al around supporting her. It was like flying.

Bonnie realized she was laughing with sheer delight and opened her eyes, gazing straight into Zander’s. He was laughing, too, and holding on to her tightly, anchoring her to the earth as she almost flew. She had never been so conscious of the blood thrumming through her veins, of each nerve catching the sensations of the air around her.

She had never felt so alive.

10

The pub where Elena and Damon ended up was lively and ful of people, but of course Damon made sure they didn’t have to wait for a table. He lounged across one side of the booth, looking as arrogant and relaxed as a big gorgeous cat, and listened peaceably as Elena talked. Elena found herself gaily chatting away, fil ing him in on al the minutia of her campus life so far, from finding out that Professor Campbel knew her parents to the personalities of the other students she’d met in her classes.

“The elevator was real y crowded, and slow, and my lab partner’s back was against the buttons. Somehow she accidental y pushed the alarm button, and the alarm started going off.” Elena took a sip of her soda. “Suddenly, a voice came out of nowhere and asked, ‘Do you have an emergency?’ And she said, ‘No, it was an accident,’ and the voice said, ‘What? I can’t hear you.’ It went on like that, back and forth, until she started shouting ‘Accident!

Accident!’”

Damon stopped tracing patterns in the condensation on his glass with one finger and glanced up at her through his lashes, his lips twitching into a smile.

“When the doors opened on the ground floor, there were four security men standing there with a medical kit,” Elena finished. “We didn’t know what to do, so we just walked past them. When we got out of the building, we started to run. It was so embarrassing, but we couldn’t stop laughing.” Damon let his slight smile expand into a grin—not his usual cool twist of the lips or his brief, bril iant, and enigmatic there-then-gone smile, but an honest-to-God cheek-puffing, eye-squinching grin. “I like you like this,” he said suddenly.

“Like what?” Elena asked.

“Relaxed, I suppose. Ever since we met, you’ve been in the middle of some crisis or another.” He raised his hand and brushed a curl away from her face, gently touching her cheek.

Elena was vaguely aware of the waiter standing by the booth, waiting for them to look up, as she answered with just a touch of flirtation, “Oh, and I suppose you had nothing to do with that?”

“I wouldn’t say I am the one who’s been most to blame, no,” Damon said cool y, his grin fading. He looked up, his eyes sharp and knowing. “Hel o, Stefan.” Elena froze in surprise. Not the waiter, then. Stefan. One look at him, and she winced, her stomach dropping. His face could have been carved from stone. He was looking at Damon’s hand, stil stretched across the table toward Elena.

“Hey,” she said tentatively. “How was your study group?” Stefan stared at her. “Elena, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Pul ing out her phone, Elena saw that there were several messages and texts from Stefan. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t hear it ring.”

“We were supposed to meet,” Stefan said stiffly. “I came to your room and you were just gone. Elena, people have been disappearing al over campus.” He had been scared, afraid that something terrible had happened to her. His eyes were stil anxious. She started to reach out to comfort him. The fact that she’d lost the Power she’d had so briefly was hard for Stefan to accept, she knew. He thought her mortality made her fragile, and he was afraid he’d lose her. She should have thought it through, should have left him more of a message than a quick text saying she would return soon.

Before she could touch him, Stefan’s gaze turned to Damon. “What’s going on?” he asked his brother, his voice ful of frustration. “Is this why you fol owed us to col ege? To zero in on Elena?”

The look of hurt that crossed Damon’s face was only a subtle shadow and was gone so quickly that Elena wasn’t entirely sure she had actual y seen it. His features settled into an expression of lazy disdain, and Elena tensed. The peace between the brothers was so fragile—she knew that

—and yet she had let Damon flirt with her. She’d been so stupid.

“Someone should be keeping her safe, Stefan,” Damon drawled. “You’re too busy playing human again, aren’t you?

Study groups.” He lifted an eyebrow scornful y. “I’m surprised you’ve even noticed that there’s something going on around this campus. Would you rather have Elena alone and in danger than have her spending time with me?” Tense lines were forming around Stefan’s mouth.

“You’re saying you don’t have an ulterior motive here?” he asked.

Damon waved a hand disparagingly. “You know what I feel for Elena. Elena knows what I feel for Elena. Even that sports-loving Mutt of yours knows how things are between us. But the problem isn’t me, little brother—it’s you and your jealousy. Your wanting to be an ‘ordinary human’”—Damon made quote marks with his fingers—“and stil carry on with Elena, who is hardly ordinary. You want to have your cake and eat it, too. I haven’t done anything wrong. Elena wouldn’t have come with me if she didn’t want to.” Elena winced again. Was this the way it was always going to be? Was any minor misstep on her part going to set Damon and Stefan at each other’s throats? “Stefan…

Damon,” she implored, but they ignored her.

They were glaring at each other. Stefan stepped closer, flexing his fists, and Damon clenched his jaw, silently daring Stefan to make a move. For the first time, Elena saw a resemblance between them.

“I can’t do this,” she said. Her voice sounded smal and soft to her own ears, but both Salvatore brothers heard her and whipped their heads toward her with inhuman speed.

“I can’t do this,” she said again, louder and more firmly this time. “I can’t be Katherine.”

Damon scowled. “Katherine? Believe me, darling, nobody here wants you to be Katherine.” Stefan, his face softening, said, “Elena, sweetheart—” Elena interrupted him. “Listen to me.” She wiped her eyes. “I’ve been walking on eggshel s, trying to keep this—

this thing between the three of us from tearing us apart. If anything good has come out of al the stuff that’s happened, it’s that you found each other, you started being brothers again. I can’t—” She took a deep breath and tried to find a sensible matter-of-fact voice somewhere inside herself.

“I think we should take a break,” she said flatly. “Stefan, I love you so much. You’re my soul mate, you’re it for me.

You know that.” She looked up at him pleadingly, silently begging him to understand.

Then her eyes moved past him to Damon, who was staring at her with a furrowed brow. “And Damon, you’re part of me now. I … feel for you.” She looked back and forth between them, her hands clutching each other. “I can’t lose either of you. But I need to figure out who I am now, after everything that’s happened, and I need to do it without worrying about destroying the relationship between you.

And you need to figure out how you can be friends with each other, even if I’m in both of your lives.” Damon let out a skeptical noise, but Elena kept talking.

“I’l understand”—she gulped—“if you can’t wait for me. But I wil always, always love you. Both of you. In different ways.

But for now, I just can’t be with you. Either of you.” She was tearing up again, and her hands shook as she wiped her eyes.

Damon leaned across the table, a smal twisted smile hovering on his lips. “Elena, did you just break up with both of us?”

The tears dried up instantly. “Damon, I never dated you,” she said angrily.

“I know,” he replied, and shrugged. “But I’ve definitely just been dumped.” He glanced at Stefan, then quickly away, his expression closed off.

Stefan looked devastated. For a moment, his face was so bleak that it wasn’t hard to believe he was more than five hundred years old. “Whatever you want, Elena,” he said. He started to reach for her, then pul ed his own hand back to his side. “No matter what, I wil always love you. My feelings aren’t going to change. Take whatever time you need.”

“Okay,” Elena said. She stood up shakily. She felt like she was going to be sick. Half of her wanted to pul Stefan to her, kiss him until that broken expression on his face went away. But Damon was watching her, his own face inscrutable, and touching either of them felt … wrong. “I need to be by myself for a while,” she told them.

At any other time, she knew, both of them would have objected to the idea of her walking the campus alone. They would have argued, fol owed her if she wouldn’t walk with them—anything to keep her safely under their protection.

Now, though, Stefan moved aside to let her out of the booth, his head bowed. Damon sat very stil and watched her go, his eyes hooded.

Elena didn’t look back at them as she crossed to the door of the pub. Her hands were shaking, and her eyes were brimming with tears once more. But she also felt as if she’d carried something very heavy for a while and had final y been able to put it down.

This might be the best choice I’ve made in a long, long time, she thought.

Dear Diary,

Every time I remember the look on Stefan’s face when I told him I needed space, my chest aches. It’s like I can’t breathe.

I never wanted to hurt Stefan. Never. How could I? We’re so close, so wrapped up in each other that he’s like a piece of my soul—without him, I’m not complete.

But…

I love Damon, too. He’s my friend—my dark mirror image—the clever, plotting one who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, but who has a kindness deep inside him that not everybody sees. I can’t imagine living without Damon, either.

Stefan wants to hold on to me so tightly. He cares for his brother—he does—and Damon cares for him, too, and having me between them is messing that up.

All three of us have been held so closely together by the crises we’ve had to deal with recently—my death and rebirth, Klaus’s attack, Damon’s return from the edge of death, the phantom’s attack—that every move we’ve made, every thought we’ve had, has been wrapped up with the other two. We can’t go on like this.

I know I’ve done the right thing. Without me between them, they can become brothers again.

And then I can sort out the tangled threads of my relationships with both of them without having to worry that any move I make will snap the tenuous bond between us.

It’s the right decision. But still, I feel like I’m dying a slow death. How can I live for even a little while without Stefan?

All I can do is try to be strong. If I just keep going, I’ll get through this time. And in the end, everything will be wonderful. It has to be.

11

“Coffee, my dear?” Professor Campbel—James, Elena reminded herself—asked. At her nod, he bounced to his feet and bustled over to the tiny coffeemaker perched on top of a teetering stack of papers.

He brought her a cup of coffee, creamed and sugared, and settled down happily in his chair, gazing across his crowded desk at her with an expression of innocent enjoyment. “I think I have some cookies,” he offered. “Not homemade, but they’re reasonably tasty. No?” Elena shook her head politely and sipped her coffee.

“It’s very good,” she said, and smiled at him.

It had been a few days since she had told Stefan and Damon she needed to take a break from them. After a much-needed sob session with Bonnie and Meredith, she had done her best to be normal—going to class, having lunch with her friends, keeping up a brave mask. Part of this attempt at normality was coming to James’s office hours, so that she could hear more about her parents. Even though they couldn’t be there to comfort her, talking about them offered some solace.

“My God!” James cried out. “You have Elizabeth’s face, and then, when you smile, Thomas’s dimple comes right out. Just the same as his—on only one side. It gave him a certain raffish charm.”

Elena wondered if she should thank James. He was complimenting her, in a way, but the compliments were real y directed toward her parents, and it felt a little presumptuous to be grateful for them.

She settled for saying, “I’m glad you think I look like my parents. I remember thinking when I was little that they were very elegant.” She shrugged. “I guess al little kids think their parents are beautiful.”

“Wel , your mother certainly was,” James said. “But it’s not just your looks. Your voice sounds like hers, and the comments you made in class this week reminded me of things your father would have said. He was very observant.” He delved into his desk drawers and, after a bit of rummaging, pul ed out a tin of butter cookies. “Sure you won’t have one? Ah, wel .” He chose one for himself and took a bite. “Yes, as I was saying, Elizabeth was extremely lovely. I wouldn’t have cal ed Thomas lovely, but he had charm. Maybe that’s how he managed to win Elizabeth’s heart in the end.”

“Oh.” Elena stirred her coffee absently. “She dated other guys, then?” It was ridiculous, but she had kind of imagined her parents as always being together.

James chuckled. “She was quite the heartbreaker. I imagine you are, too, dear.”

Elena thought unhappily of Stefan’s soft, dismayed green eyes. She had never wanted to hurt him. And Matt, who she had dated in high school and who had quietly gone on loving her. He hadn’t fal en in love, or even been real y interested in, anyone else since then. Heartbreaker, yeah.

James was watching her with bright, inquisitive eyes.

“Not a happy heartbreaker, then?” he said softly. Elena glanced at him in surprise, and he set his coffee cup down with a little clink. He straightened up. “Elizabeth Morrow,” he said in a brisk businesslike voice, “was a freshman when I met her. She was always making things, particularly amazing sets and costumes she designed for the theater department. Your father and I were both sophomores at the time—we were in the same fraternity, and close friends—

and he couldn’t stop talking about this amazing girl. Once I got to know her, I was sucked into her orbit, too.” He smiled. “Thomas and I each had something special about us: I was academical y gifted, and Thomas could talk anyone into anything. But we were both cultural barbarians.

Elizabeth taught us about art, about theater, about the world beyond the smal Southern towns where we’d grown up.” James ate another cookie, absentmindedly licking sugar off his fingers, then sighed deeply. “I thought we’d be friends forever,” he said. “But we went in different directions in the end.”

“Why?” Elena asked. “Did something happen?” His bright eyes shifted away from hers. “Of course not,” he said dismissively. “Just life, I suppose. But whenever I walk down the third-floor corridor, I can’t help stopping to look at the photograph of us.” He gave a self-conscious laugh, patting his stomach. “Mostly vanity, I suppose. I recognize my young self more easily than I do the fat old man I see in the mirror now.”

“What are you talking about?” Elena asked, confused.

“The third-floor corridor?”

James’s mouth made a round O of surprise. “Of course, you don’t know al the col ege traditions yet. The long corridor on the third floor of this building has pictures from al the different periods of Dalcrest’s history. Including a nice photo of your parents and yours truly.”

“I’l have to check it out,” Elena said, feeling a little excited. She hadn’t seen many pictures of her parents from before they were married.

There was a tap on the door, and a smal girl with glasses peeked in. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, and started to withdraw.

“No, no, my dear,” James said jovial y, getting to his feet. “Elena and I were just chatting about old friends. You and I need to have a serious talk about your senior thesis as soon as possible. Come in, come in.” He gave Elena an absurd little half bow. “Elena, we’l have to continue this conversation later.”

“Of course,” Elena said, and rose, shaking James’s offered hand.

“Speaking of old friends,” he said casual y as she turned to go, “I met a friend of yours, Dr. Celia Connor, just before the semester started. She mentioned that you were coming here.”

Elena whipped back around, staring at him. He had met Celia? Images fil ed Elena’s mind: Celia held in Stefan’s arms as he traveled faster than any human, desperate to save her life; Celia fending off the phantom in a room ful of flames. How much did James know? What had Celia told him?

James smiled blandly back at her. “But we’l talk later,” he said. After a moment, Elena nodded and stumbled out of his office, her mind racing. The girl who was waiting held the door open for her.

In the hal outside, Elena leaned against the wal and took stock for a moment. Would Celia have told James about Stefan and Damon being vampires, or anything about Elena herself? Probably not. Celia had become a friend by the end of their battle with the phantom. She would have kept their secrets. Plus, Celia was a very savvy academic. She wouldn’t have told her col eagues anything that might make them think she was crazy, including that she had met actual vampires.

Elena shook off the unease she felt from the end of her conversation with James and thought instead of the picture he’d told her about. She climbed the stairs to the third floor to see if she could find it now.

It turned out that the “third-floor corridor” was no problem to find. While the second floor was a maze of turning passageways and faculty offices subdivided from one another, when she stepped out of the stairwel on the third floor she discovered it was a long hal that ran from one end of the building to the other.

In contrast to the chatter of people at work on the second floor, the third floor seemed abandoned, silent and dim. Closed doors sat at regular intervals along the hal .

Elena peered through the glass on one door, only to see an empty room.

Al down the hal , between the doors, hung large photographs. Near the stairwel , where she began looking, they seemed like they were from maybe the turn of the century: young men in side-combed hair and suits, smiling stiffly; girls in high-necked white blouses and long skirts with their hair pul ed up on top of their heads. In one, a row of girls carried garlands of flowers for some forgotten campus occasion.

There were photos of boat races and picnics, couples dressed up for dances, team pictures. In one photo, the cast of some student play—maybe from the 1920s or ’30s, the girls with shingled flapper cuts, the guys with funny covers over their shoes—laughed hilariously on stage, their mouths frozen open, their hands in the air. A little farther on, a group of young men in army uniforms gazed back at her seriously, jaws firmly set, eyes determined.

As she moved on down the hal , the photos changed from black-and-white to color; the clothes got less formal; the hairstyles grew longer, then shorter; messier, then sleeker. Even though most of the people in the photographs looked happy, something about them made Elena feel sad.

Maybe it was how fast time seemed to pass in them: al these people had been Elena’s age, students like her, with their own fears and joys and heartbreaks, and now they were gone, grown older or even dead.

She thought briefly of a bottle tucked deep in her closet at home, containing the water of eternal life she’d accidental y stolen from the Guardians. Was that the answer? She pushed the thought away. It wasn’t the answer yet—she knew that—and she’d made the very clear choice not to think about that bottle, not to decide anything, not now. She had time, she had more life to live natural y before she’d want to ask herself that question.

The picture James talked about was close to the far end of the hal . In it, her father, her mother, and James were sitting on the grass under a tree in the quad. Her parents were leaning forward in eager conversation, and James—a much thinner version, his face almost unrecognizable beneath a straggly beard—was sitting back and watching them, his expression sharp and amused.

Her mother looked amazingly young, her face soft, her eyes wide, her smile big and bright, but she was also somehow exactly the mother Elena remembered. Elena’s heart gave a painful but happy throb at the sight of her. Her father was gawkier than the distinguished dad Elena had known—and his pastel-patterned shirt was a fashion disaster of epic proportions—but there was an essential dadness to him that made Elena smile.

She noticed the pin on his horrific pastel shirt first. She thought it was a smudge, but then, leaning forward, she made out the shape of a smal , dark blue V. Looking at the other figures, she realized her mother and James were wearing the same pins, her mother’s half-obscured by a long golden curl fal ing across it.

Weird. She tapped her finger slowly against the glass over the photograph, touching one V and then the others.

She would ask James about the pins. Hadn’t he mentioned that he and her dad had been in a fraternity? Maybe it had something to do with that. Didn’t frat boys “pin” their girlfriends?

Something nudged at the edges of her mind. She’d seen one of these pins somewhere. But she couldn’t remember where, so she shrugged it off. Whatever it stood for, it was something she didn’t know about her parents, another facet of their lives to be discovered here.

She couldn’t wait to learn more.

12

“Good practice,” Christopher said, stopping next to Matt as he headed out of the locker room. “You’ve got some great moves, man.”

“Thanks,” Matt said, glancing up from putting on his shoes. “You were looking pretty good out there yourself.” He could tel Christopher was going to be a solid team-mate, the kind of guy who did his job and focused on the big picture, working to help the rest of the team. He was a great roommate, too, generous and laid-back. He didn’t even snore.

“Want to skip the dining hal and order a pizza?” Christopher asked. “This is my night to beat you at Guitar Hero—I can feel it.”

Matt laughed. In the couple of weeks they’d been living together, he and Christopher had been working their way through al the Wii games Christopher had brought with him to school. “Al right, I’l see you back at the room.” Christopher slapped him on the back, grinning widely.

After Christopher left, Matt took his time getting his things together, letting the other guys get out of the locker room ahead of him. He felt like walking back to the dorm alone tonight. They were a nice bunch of guys, but he was sore and tired. Between footbal practices and Vitale Society pledge activities, he’d never worked his body quite so hard.

It felt good.

He felt good. Even the stupidest of the Vitale activities

—and some of them were pretty stupid: they’d had to work in teams to build houses out of newspaper the other night—

were kind of fun, because he was getting to know some amazing people. Ethan had been right. As a group, the pledges were smart, determined, talented, everything you’d expect. And he was one of them.

His classes were interesting, too. Back in high school he’d gotten okay grades but had mostly just done what he had to do to pass. The Civil War, geometry, chemistry, To Kill a Mockingbird: al his schoolwork had sort of blended into the background of his real life of friends and sports.

Some of what he was doing at Dalcrest was like that, too, but in most of his classes, he was starting to see connections between things. He was getting the idea that history, language, science, and literature were al parts of the same thing—the way people thought and the stories they told—and it was real y pretty interesting.

It was possible, Matt thought, with a self-mocking grin, that he was “blossoming” in col ege, just like his high school guidance counselor had predicted.

It wasn’t ful y dark yet, but it was getting late. Matt sped up, thinking about pizza.

There weren’t a lot of people roaming the campus. Matt guessed they were either in the cafeteria or holed up in their rooms, afraid. He wasn’t worried, though. He figured there were a lot more vulnerable targets than a footbal player.

A breeze started up, waving the branches of the trees on the quad and wafting the smel of grass to Matt. It stil felt like summer. In the bushes, a few early-evening fireflies blinked on and off. He rol ed his shoulders, enjoying the stretch after a long practice.

Up ahead, someone screamed. A guy, Matt thought.

The cry cut off suddenly.

Before he could even think, Matt was running toward the sound. His heart was pounding, and he tried to force his tired legs to move faster. That was a sound of pure panic, Matt thought. He strained his ears but didn’t hear anything except his own ragged breaths.

As he came around the business building, a dark figure that had been bent over something in the grass took off, its long skinny legs flying. It was moving fast, and its face was completely concealed by a hoodie. Matt couldn’t even see if it was a guy or a girl.

He angled his own stride to race after the figure in black but came to a sudden halt by the shape in the grass.

Not just a shape. For a moment, Matt’s mind refused to process what he was seeing. The red and gold of a footbal jersey. Wet, thick liquid spreading across it. A familiar face.

Then everything snapped into focus. He dropped to his knees. “Christopher, oh no, Christopher.” There was blood everywhere. Matt frantical y felt at Christopher’s chest, trying to figure out where he could put pressure to try to stop the bleeding. Everywhere, everywhere, it’s coming from everywhere. Christopher’s whole body was shaking, and Matt pressed his hands against the soaking footbal jersey to try to hold him stil .

Fresh blood ran in thick crimson streams against the brighter red of the jersey’s material.

“Christopher, man, hold on, it’s going to be okay. You’l be okay,” Matt said, and pul ed out his phone to dial 911.

His own hands were covered with blood now, and the phone was a slimy mess as he held it to his ear.

“Please,” he said, his voice shaking, “I’m at Dalcrest Col ege, near the business building. My roommate, someone attacked my roommate. He’s bleeding a lot. He’s not conscious.” The 911 operator started to ask him some questions and Matt tried to focus.

Suddenly Christopher opened his eyes, taking a deep gulp of air.

“Christopher,” Matt said, dropping his phone. “Chris, they’re sending an ambulance, hold on.” The shaking got worse, Christopher’s arms and legs vibrating in a rapid rhythm. His eyes settled on Matt’s face, and his mouth opened.

“Chris,” Matt said, trying to hold him down, trying to be gentle, “who did this? Who attacked you?” Christopher gasped again, a hoarse gulping sound.

Then the shaking stopped, and he was very stil . His eyelids slid down over his eyes.

“Chris, please hold on,” Matt begged. “They’re coming.

They’l help you.” He grabbed at Christopher, shook him a little, but Christopher wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing.

Sirens sounded in the distance, but Matt knew the ambulance was already too late.

13

Bonnie clutched the banana-nut muffin to her chest as if it was some kind of sacred offering. She just could not bring herself to knock on Matt’s door. Instead, she turned big pleading brown eyes on Meredith and Elena.

“Oh, Bonnie,” Meredith muttered, reaching past her, shifting the pile of bagels and the carton of orange juice she was carrying, and rapping loudly on the door.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bonnie whispered back, agonized.

Then the door opened, and Matt appeared, red-eyed and pale. He seemed somehow smal er and more hunched into himself than Bonnie had ever seen him. Overwhelmed with pity, she forgot al about being nervous and launched herself into his arms, dropping the muffin in the process.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out, tears running down her face. Matt held on to her tightly, bending over and burying his head in her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said final y, desperately, patting the back of his head. “I mean, no, it’s not … of course it’s not … but we love you, we’re here.”

“I couldn’t help him,” Matt said dul y, his face stil pressed against Bonnie’s neck. “I tried my best, but he died anyway.”

Elena and Meredith joined them, wrapping their arms around Matt from either side.

“We know,” Elena said, rubbing his back. “You did everything you could for him.”

Matt pul ed out of their arms eventual y and gestured around the room. “Al this stuff is his,” he said. “His parents don’t feel like they’re ready to clear out his things yet, they told the police. It’s kil ing me to see it al stil here when he’s not. I thought about packing it up for his parents, but there’s a possibility that the police might want to look through his stuff.”

Bonnie shuddered at the thought of what Christopher’s parents must be going through.

“Have something to eat,” Meredith said. “I bet you haven’t eaten for ages. Maybe it’l help you feel better.” Al three girls fussed around, fixing the breakfast they’d brought for Matt, then convincing him to taste something, anything. He drank some juice and picked at a bagel, his head lowered. “I was at the police station al night,” he said.

“I had to keep going over and over what happened.”

“What did happen?” Bonnie asked tentatively.

Matt sighed. “I real y wish I knew. I just saw somebody dressed in black running away from Christopher. I wanted to chase him, but Chris needed my help. And then he died. I tried, but I couldn’t do anything.” His forehead creased into a frown. “The real y weird thing, though,” he said slowly, “is that, even though I saw a person running away, the police think Christopher was attacked by some kind of animal. He was … pretty ripped up.”

Elena and Meredith exchanged an alert glance. “A vampire?” said Meredith. “Or a werewolf, maybe?”

“I was wondering about that,” Matt admitted. “It makes sense.” Without seeming to notice, he finished his bagel, and Elena took advantage of his distraction to slip some fruit onto his plate.

Bonnie wrapped her arms around herself. “Why?” she asked. “Why is it that, wherever we go, weird, scary things happen around us? I thought that once we left Fel ’s Church things would be different.”

No one argued with her. For a little while, they al sat quietly, and Bonnie felt as if they were huddling together, trying to protect themselves from something cold and horrible.

Final y, Meredith reached out and took an orange slice off Matt’s plate. “The first thing we need to do, then, is to investigate and try to figure out if these attacks and disappearances are supernatural.” She chewed thoughtful y. “As much as I hate to say it, we should probably get Damon on this. He’s good at this kind of thing. And Stefan should know what’s going on, too.” She looked at Elena, her voice gentle. “I’l talk to them, okay, Elena?” Elena shrugged. Bonnie could tel she was trying to keep her expression blank, but her lips were trembling. “Of course,” she said after a minute. “I’m sure they’re both checking things out anyway. You know how paranoid they are.”

“Not without reason,” Meredith said dryly.

Matt’s eyes were wet. “Whatever happens, I need you to promise me something,” he said. “Please, be careful. I can’t—let’s not lose anyone else, okay?” Bonnie snuggled closer to him, putting her hand on his.

Meredith reached over and placed her hand over both of theirs, and Elena added hers to the pile. “We’l take care of one another,” Elena said.

“A vow,” said Bonnie, trying to smile. “We’l always watch out for one another. We’l make sure everyone is safe.”

At that moment, as they murmured in agreement, she was sure they could do it.

Meredith pivoted and stepped forward, swinging her staff down to strike at Samantha’s heavily padded knees.

Samantha dodged the blow, then jabbed her own staff straight toward Meredith’s head. Meredith blocked the blow, then thrust her staff at Samantha’s chest.

Samantha staggered backward and lost her footing.

“Wow,” she said, rubbing her col arbone and looking at Meredith with a mixture of resentment and appreciation.

“That hurt, even with the padding. I’ve never trained with anyone so strong before.”

“Oh, wel ,” Meredith said modestly, feeling absurdly pleased, “I practice a lot.”

“Uh-huh,” Samantha said, eyeing her. “Let’s take a break.” She flopped down on the mat, and Meredith, her staff balanced lightly in one hand, sat beside her.

It wasn’t her staff, of course, not her special hunting one.

She couldn’t bring her heirloom slayer staff to the gym—it was too clearly a customized deadly weapon. But she’d been delighted to learn that Samantha could fight with a four-foot-long jo staff and that she had an extra.

Samantha was quick and smart and fierce, one of the best sparring partners she’d ever had. Fighting, Meredith was able to block out the helpless feeling she’d had in Matt’s room this morning. There was something so pathetic about seeing al Christopher’s things sitting there ready for him, when he was never coming back. He had one of those weird little fake Zen gardens on his desk, the sand neatly groomed. Maybe just the day before, Christopher had picked up the tiny rake in his hand and smoothed the sand, and now he’d never touch anything again.

And it was her fault. Meredith squeezed her staff, her knuckles whitening. She had to accept that. If she had the power of being a potent force against darkness, a hunter and slayer of monsters, she had the responsibility, too.

Anything that got through and kil ed someone in her territory was Meredith’s failure and her shame.

She had to work harder. Practice more, go out patrol ing the campus, keep people safe.

“Are you al right?” Samantha’s voice broke through Meredith’s thoughts. Startled, Meredith saw Samantha staring at her with wide, solemn dark eyes, taking in Meredith’s gritted teeth and clenched fists.

“Not entirely,” said Meredith dryly. “Um.” She felt like she had to explain her grimness. “Did you hear about what happened last night, the guy who was kil ed?” Samantha nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “Wel , he was the roommate of a real y good friend of mine. And I was with my friend today, trying to help him. It was … upsetting.” Samantha’s face seemed to harden, and she scrambled up on her knees. “Listen, Meredith,” she said, “I promise you this isn’t going to happen again. Not on my watch.”

“On your watch?” Meredith asked mildly. Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe.

“I have responsibilities,” Samantha said. She dropped her eyes to her hands. “I’m going to catch this kil er.”

“It’s a big job,” Meredith said. It wasn’t possible, was it?

But Samantha was such a good fighter, and what she was saying … why would she think she was responsible for stopping the kil er? “What makes you think you can do it?” she asked.

“I know this is difficult to believe, and I shouldn’t even be tel ing you, but I need your help.” Samantha was looking straight into her eyes, practical y vibrating with earnestness.

“I’m a hunter. I was raised to… I have a sacred trust. Al my family for generations, we’ve fought against evil. I’m the last of us. My parents were kil ed when I was thirteen.” Meredith gasped, shocked, but Samantha shook her head fiercely, pushing Meredith’s sympathy away. “They hadn’t finished training me,” she continued, “and I need you to help me get better, get faster. I’m not strong enough yet.” Meredith stared at her.

“Please, Meredith,” Samantha said. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. People are depending on me.” Unable to stop herself, Meredith started to laugh.

“It’s not a joke,” Samantha said, jumping to her feet, her fists clenched. “This is… I shouldn’t have said anything.” She stalked toward the door, her back as straight as a soldier’s.

“Samantha, wait,” Meredith cal ed. Samantha whirled back toward her with a face ful of fury. Meredith took a quick breath and tried desperately to remember something she’d learned as a child but never had occasion to use.

Crooking her pinkies together, she drew up her thumbs to make a triangle, the secret sign of greeting between two hunters.

Samantha just stared at her, face perfectly blank.

Meredith wondered if she remembered the sign correctly.

Had Samantha’s family even taught it to her? Meredith knew there were other families out there, but she had never met any of them before. Her parents had left the hunter community before she was born.

Then Samantha, moving as quickly as she ever had when they’d sparred, was before her, gripping her arms.

“For real?” Samantha said. “Are you serious?” Meredith nodded, and Samantha threw her arms around her and clutched her tightly. Her heart was beating so hard that Meredith could feel it. Meredith stiffened at first

—she wasn’t the touchy-feely type, despite being best friends with wildly affectionate Bonnie for years—but then relaxed into the hug, feeling Samantha’s slim, muscular body under her arms, so like her own.

She had the strangest feeling of familiarity, as if she had been lost and had now found her true family at last.

Meredith knew she could never say any of that, and part of her felt like she was betraying Elena and Bonnie just by thinking that way, but she couldn’t help it. Samantha pul ed away, smiling and weepy, wiping at her eyes and nose.

“I’m acting stupid,” she said. “But this is the best thing that ever happened to me. Together, we can fight this.” She gave a half-hysterical sniff and gazed at Meredith with huge shining eyes. “I feel like I’ve made a new best friend,” she said.

“Yes,” Meredith said—not weeping, not laughing, cool as ever on the outside but, inside, feeling like she was breaking into happy pieces—“yes, I think you’re right.” 14

Matt hunched his shoulders miserably. He had come to the pledge meeting because he didn’t want to stay in his room alone, but now he wished he hadn’t. He’d been avoiding Elena, Meredith, and Bonnie—it wasn’t their fault, but so much violence had happened around al four of them in the past year, so much death. He’d thought it might be better being around other people, people who hadn’t seen how much darkness there was in the world, but it wasn’t.

He felt almost like he was swathed in bubble wrap, thick and cloudy. As the other pledges moved and talked, he could watch them and hear them, but he felt separated from them; everything seemed muffled and dim. He felt fragile, too, as if removing the protective layer might make him fal apart.

As he stood in the crowd of pledges, Chloe came over and stood next to him, touching his arm reassuringly with her smal , strong hand. A gap appeared in the bubble wrap, and he could real y feel her with him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it grateful y.

The pledge meeting was in the wood-paneled underground room where they’d first met. Ethan assured them this was just one of many secret hideouts—the others were only open to ful y initiated members. Matt had discovered by now that even this pledge room had several entrances: one through an old house just outside campus, which must have been the one they brought them through that first time, one through a shed near the playing fields, and one through the basement of the library. The ground beneath the campus must be honeycombed with tunnels for so many entrances to end up in one place, he thought, and he had an unsettling picture of students walking on the sun-warmed grass while, a few inches below, endless dark tunnels opened underneath them.

Ethan was talking, and Matt knew that usual y he would have been hanging on his every word. Today, Ethan’s voice washed over Matt almost unheard, and Matt let his eyes fol ow the black-clad, masked figures of the Vitale members who paced the room behind Ethan. Dul y, he wondered about them, about how the masks disguised them wel enough that he was never sure if he recognized any of them around campus. Any of them except Ethan, that is. Matt wondered curiously what made the leader immune to such restrictions. Like the tunnels beneath the campus, the anonymity of the Vitales was slightly unsettling.

Eventual y, the meeting ended, and the pledges started to trickle out of the room. A few patted Matt on the back or murmured sympathetic words to him, and he warmed as he realized that they cared, that somehow they’d come to feel like friends through al the sil y pledge bonding activities.

“Hold up a minute, Matt?” Ethan was next to him suddenly. At Ethan’s glance, Chloe squeezed Matt’s arm again and let go.

“I’l see you later,” she murmured. Matt watched as she crossed the room and went out the door, her hair bouncing against the back of her neck.

When he looked back at Ethan, Ethan’s head was cocked to one side, his golden-brown eyes considering.

“It’s good to see you and Chloe getting so close,” Ethan declared, and Matt shrugged awkwardly.

“Yeah, wel …” he said.

“You’l find that the other Vitales are the ones who can understand you best,” Ethan said. “They’l be the ones who wil stand by you al through col ege, and for the rest of your life.” He smiled. “At least, that’s what’s happened to me.

I’ve been watching you, Matt,” he went on.

Matt tensed. Something about Ethan cut through the bubble-wrap feeling, but not in the comforting way Chloe did. Now Matt felt exposed instead of protected. The sharpness of his gaze, maybe, or the way Ethan always seemed to believe so strongly in whatever he was saying.

“Yeah?” Matt said warily.

Ethan grinned. “Don’t look so paranoid. It’s a good thing. Every Vitale pledge is special, that’s why they’re chosen, but every year there’s one who’s even more special, who’s a leader among leaders. I can see that, in this group, it’s you, Matt.”

Matt cleared his throat. “Real y?” he said, flattered, not knowing quite what to say. No one had ever cal ed him a leader before.

“I’ve got big plans for the Vitale Society this year,” Ethan said, his eyes shining. “We’re going to go down in history.

We’re going to be more powerful than we’ve ever been.

Our futures are bright.”

Matt gave a half smile and nodded. When Ethan talked, his voice warm and persuasive, those golden eyes steady on Matt’s, Matt could see it, too. The Vitales leading not just the campus but, someday, the world. Matt himself would be transformed from the ordinary guy he knew he had always been into someone confident and clear-eyed, a leader among leaders, like Ethan said. He could picture it al .

“I want you to be my right-hand man here, Matt,” Ethan said. “You can help me lead these pledges into greatness.” Matt nodded again and, Ethan’s eyes on his, felt a flush of pride, the first good thing he’d felt since Chris’s death.

He would lead the Vitales, standing by Ethan’s side.

Everything would be better. The path was clear ahead.

Indeed, Keynes posited that economic activity was determined by aggregate demand. For the fifteenth time in half an hour, Stefan read the sentence without beginning to comprehend it.

It al just seemed so pointless. He’d tried to distract himself by investigating the murder on campus, but it had only made him more anxious that he couldn’t be by Elena’s side, seeing to it himself that she was safe. He closed the book and dropped his head into his hands.

Without Elena, what was he doing here?

He would have fol owed her anywhere. She was so beautiful it hurt him to look at her sometimes, like it hurt to stare into the sun. She shone like that sun with her golden hair and lapis lazuli eyes, her delicate creamy skin that held just the faintest touch of pink.

But there was more to Elena than beauty. Her beauty alone wouldn’t have held Stefan’s attention for long. In fact, her resemblance to Katherine had nearly driven him away.

But under her cool y beautiful exterior was a quicksilver mind that was always working, making plans, and a heart that was fiercely protective of everyone she loved.

Stefan had spent centuries searching for something to make him feel alive again, and he’d never felt as certain of anything as he did about Elena. She was it, the only one for him.

Why couldn’t she be as sure of him? No matter what Elena said about Stefan being the one, the fact remained: the only two girls he’d loved in his long, long life both loved not just Stefan but his brother, too.

Stefan closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers, then shoved himself away from the desk. Maybe he was hungry. In a few quick strides, he crossed his white-painted room, through the mix of his own elegant possessions and the cheap school-issued furniture, and was out on the balcony. Outside, the night smel ed of jasmine and car exhaust. Stefan reached tendrils of Power gently into the night, questing, feeling for … something …

there. A tiny mind quickened in response to his.

His hearing, sharper than a human’s, picked up the faint whine of sonar, and a smal , furry bat landed on the balcony railing, drawn in by his Power. Stefan picked it up, keeping up a gentle thrum of Power between his mind and the bat’s, and it gazed at him tamely, its little fox face alert.

Stefan lowered his head and drank, careful not to take too much from the little creature. He grimaced at the taste and then released the bat, which flapped tentatively, a little dazed, then picked up speed and was lost again in the night.

He hadn’t been terribly hungry, but the blood cleared his mind. Elena was so young. He had to remember that. She was stil younger than he’d been when he became a vampire, and she needed time to experience life, for her path to lead her back to Stefan. He could wait. He had al the time in the world.

But he missed her so much.

Gathering his strength, he leaped from the balcony and landed lightly on the ground below. There was a flower bed there, and he reached into it, feeling petals as soft as silk.

A daisy, fresh and innocent. He plucked it and went back inside the dorm, using the front entrance this time.

Outside Elena’s door, he hesitated. He could hear the slight sounds of her moving around in there, smel her distinctive, intoxicating scent. She was alone, and he was tempted to just knock. Maybe she was longing for him, just as he longed for her. If they were alone, would she melt into his arms despite herself?

Stefan shook his head, his mouth tight. He had to respect Elena’s wishes. If she needed time apart, he could give her that. Looking at the white daisy, he slowly balanced it on top of Elena’s doorknob. She would find the flower and know that it was from him.

Stefan wanted Elena to know that he could wait for her, if that was what she needed, but that he was thinking of her, always.

15

As she headed for the door of her dorm room, Elena rummaged through her bag, checking off a mental list: wallet, keys, phone, lip gloss, eyeliner, hairbrush, student ID. As she swung the door open, something fluttered to the ground.

A perfect white daisy had fal en to the floor. Elena reached down and picked it up. Turning it in her hand, she felt a sudden sharp ache in her chest. God, I miss Stefan.

She had no doubt the daisy was from him. It was just like him to let her know he was thinking of her while stil respecting her space.

The ache in her chest was slowly replaced with a sweet glowing feeling. It seemed so sil y and artificial to avoid talking to Stefan. She loved him. And, beyond that, he was one of her best friends. Elena pul ed out her phone to cal him.

And then she stopped. Taking a deep breath, she put the phone back into her bag.

If she talked to Stefan, she would want to see him. If she saw him, she would want to touch him. If she touched him, it would al be over. She would find herself fal ing into him, entangled in love. And then she would look up and see Damon’s dark unfathomable eyes watching them and feel that pul toward him. And then the brothers would look at each other, and love and pain and fury would pass over their faces, and everything would start up again.

It had felt good to walk away from them for a while, even though it was heartbreaking and awful and terribly lonely, too. But, since then, Elena had felt a calm settle over her.

She wasn’t happy, exactly—it was like she was covered with bruises, and if she wasn’t careful, pain would flood over her as she remembered what she had done. But she also felt as if she had been holding her breath for weeks and now was able to exhale.

She knew that Stefan would be waiting for her when she was ready to face him again. Wasn’t that what the daisy meant?

She tucked the flower inside her bag and set off down the hal , her heels clicking firmly. Elena was going to go out with her friends, she was going to have fun, and she wasn’t going to think about Stefan, or Damon. Or even the disappearances, or Christopher’s death. Elena sighed under the weight of it al . For days, they had been mourning, and now Elena and her friends needed to embrace life again. They deserved an evening of freedom. They needed to remember what they were fighting for.

“There she is,” Elena heard Bonnie say as she entered the crowded bar. “Elena! Over here!”

Bonnie, Meredith, and a girl Elena didn’t know were sitting at a smal table near the dance floor. They had invited Matt to come out with them, but he’d said he had to study, his face politely closed off, and they knew he wasn’t ready yet and that he needed some time alone.

Meredith, graceful and relaxed, gave Elena a cool smile in greeting and introduced her friend Samantha. Samantha was lean, bright eyed, and alert. She seemed like she had energy to spare, shifting from side to side, chatting without stopping.

Bonnie, too, was clearly on tonight and started talking as soon as Elena reached the table. Bonnie was brave, Elena thought. Christopher’s death had shocked her, and she was as worried about Matt as any of them, but she would stick out her chin and smile and gossip and go on with life just as hard as she could, because they had decided that was what tonight would be about.

“I got you a Coke,” Bonnie said. “They carded me, so I couldn’t get anything else. Guess what?” She paused dramatical y. “I cal ed Zander, and he said he’d definitely try to make it here tonight. I can’t wait for you guys to meet him!” Bonnie was practical y bouncing out of her seat with excitement, red curls flipping everywhere.

“Who’s Zander?” asked Samantha innocently.

Meredith gave Elena a sly glance. “You know, I’m not sure,” she said with mock confusion. “Bonnie, tel us about him.”

“Yes,” Elena added, smirking. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned him at al , have you?”

“Shut up, you guys,” Bonnie said amiably, and, leaning over the table to Samantha, started to extol al of Zander’s virtues to her fresh audience. Elena let her mind wander.

She’d heard it al , night after night in their dorm lately: Zander’s eyes, Zander’s smile, Zander’s bashful charm, Zander’s very hot bod (Bonnie’s words). How Zander and Bonnie studied together in a tucked-away corner of the library and Zander brought Bonnie secret snacks even though it was totally against the library rules. The way they talked on the phone every night, the long velvety pauses when it seemed like Zander was on the verge of whispering something intimate, something no one but Bonnie could know, but then instead he would make a joke that made Bonnie laugh like crazy. There was something so sweet about Bonnie with a crush. Elena real y hoped this guy was worthy of her.

“He hasn’t kissed me yet,” Bonnie added, eyes wide.

“Soon, though. I hope.”

“The very first kiss,” Samantha said, and wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe tonight?” Bonnie just giggled in response.

That ache was back in Elena’s chest, and she pressed her hand against her sternum. During her first kiss with Stefan, the world had fal en away and there had been just the two of them, lips and souls touching. Everything had seemed so clear then.

She took a deep breath and wil ed away tears. She wasn’t going to remember anything tonight; she was just going to have a good time with her friends.

Having Samantha there, Elena soon realized, was going to be a huge help with that. If it had been just Elena, Meredith, and Bonnie, they would have ended up discussing Christopher’s murder and the disappearances on campus, combing obsessively over the very few things they knew and theorizing about everything they didn’t. But with Samantha there, they had to keep the conversation light.

Somehow Bonnie got off the topic of wonderful Zander and on to palm reading. “Look,” she said to Samantha.

“See the line that crosses down your palm, across the other three lines? That’s a fate line, not everybody has that.”

“What does it mean?” Samantha said, gazing at her own palm with great interest.

“Wel ,” Bonnie said, her brow furrowing, “it changes direction a lot—see here? and here?—which means that your destiny is going to change because of outside forces influencing you.”

“Hmm,” Samantha said. “How about love? Wil I meet somebody amazing tonight?”

“No,” Bonnie said slowly, and her voice changed, taking on a flat, almost metal ic, tone. Elena glanced up quickly to see that Bonnie’s pupils were dilated, her eyes looking away from Samantha’s palm into the distance. “Not tonight.

But there’s someone waiting for you who wil change everything. You’l meet him soon.”

“Bonnie,” Meredith said sharply. “Are you okay?” Bonnie blinked, and her eyes snapped back into focus.

“Of course,” she said, sounding confused. “What do you mean?”

Elena and Meredith exchanged a glance—had Bonnie slipped into a vision? Before they could question her, a whole group of guys was suddenly at their table, laughing, shouting, swearing. Elena frowned up at them.

“Hey, gorgeous,” one said, staring down at Elena.

“Wanna dance?”

Elena started to shake her head, but another of the guys dropped into the seat next to Bonnie and threw his arm around her. “Hey,” he said. “Did you miss me?”

“Zander!” Bonnie exclaimed, her cheeks pink with delight.

So this was Zander, Elena thought, and watched him covertly as his three friends settled at the table, too, introducing themselves cheerful y, seeming to make the maximum amount of noise dragging chairs over and jockeying to sit next to the girls. Zander was cute, sure, she had to admit that. Pale blond hair and a gorgeous smile.

She didn’t real y like the way he was pul ing Bonnie close, turning her head toward him, his hands running restlessly over her shoulders even as he talked over her head to his friends. It seemed real y possessive for a guy who hadn’t even kissed her yet. Elena looked over at Meredith to see if she was thinking the same thing.

Meredith was listening, with an amused smile, to the guy next to her—Marcus, she thought his name was—Zander’s friend with the shaggy brown hair, explaining his weight-lifting routine.

“Shots,” another friend of Zander’s said succinctly, joining them with a tray ful of shot glasses. “Let’s play quarters.”

Bonnie giggled. “They’re not al owed to serve us here.

We’re underage.”

The guy grinned. “S’alright. I paid for them, not you.”

“Wanna dance?” Spencer, the one who had asked Elena a minute before, said again, asking Samantha this time.

“Sure!” she said, and jumped to her feet. The two were quickly lost in the crowd on the dance floor.

“God, I was so drunk last night,” the guy next to Elena, Jared, said, tipping his chair back on two legs and regarding her cheerful y. His friend on his other side gazed at him for a minute, then poured a shot into his lap.

“Hey!” In a moment, they were on their feet and shoving each other, the guy who had poured the drink laughing, Jared red-faced and angry.

“Knock it off, you guys,” Zander said. “I don’t want to get kicked out of here, too.”

Too? Elena raised her eyebrows. This guy and his friends were definitely too wild for innocent little Bonnie.

Elena looked at Meredith again for confirmation, but she was stil lost in jock world, now giving her opinion on the best weight training for martial arts.

Bonnie squealed with laughter and bounced a quarter directly into one of the shot glasses. Al the guys cheered.

“Now what?” she said breathlessly, her eyes bright.

“Now you choose someone to drink it,” the guy who had brought the drinks said.

“Zander, of course,” Bonnie said, and Zander gave her a long, slow smile that even Elena had to admit was devastating and drank, then winked at her as she laughed again.

Bonnie looked … real y happy. Elena couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her laughing like this.

It must have been at least a year ago, before things had gone crazy in Fel ’s Church.

Elena sighed and looked around the table. These guys were rowdy—tussling and shoving at one another—but they were friendly enough. And this was the kind of thing people did at col ege, wasn’t it? If it made Bonnie happy, Elena ought to at least try to get along with them.

Samantha and Spencer came back to the table, both laughing, and Samantha col apsed in her seat. “No more,” she said, raising her hands to fend him off. “I need a water break. You’re a madman, you know that?”

“Wil you come dance with me, then?” Spencer said pleadingly to Elena, widening big brown puppy-dog eyes at her.

“He’l try to pick you up,” Samantha warned. “And dip you. And spin you around. But don’t worry, I’l be back out on that floor in no time.”

“Pretty please?” Spencer said, making an even more pathetic face.

Bonnie laughed triumphantly as she bounced another quarter into the glass.

Dancing with a group of friends isn’t betraying anyone, Elena thought. Besides, she was single now. Sort of, anyway. She should try to enjoy col ege, to embrace life.

Wasn’t that the whole point of tonight? She shrugged.

“Sure, why not?”

16

When Stefan walked by Elena’s room again, the daisy was gone, and the subtle scent of her citrusy shampoo lingered in the hal way.

No doubt she was out with Meredith and Bonnie, and he could depend upon Meredith to protect her. He wondered if Damon was watching them, if he’d approach Elena. A bitter strand of envy curled in Stefan’s stomach. It was hard being the good one sometimes, the one who would abide by the rules, while Damon did whatever he wanted.

He leaned back against the door to Elena’s room.

There was a window across the hal , and as he watched the cold crescent of the moon sailing high in the sky, he thought of his silent room, of the books of economics and philosophy waiting for him.

No. He wasn’t going back there. He couldn’t be with Elena, but he didn’t have to be alone.

Outside, there was a chil in the air for the first time since school had started; the sultry heat of a Virginia summer was final y giving way to autumn. Stefan hunched his shoulders and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets.

Not real y knowing where he was going, Stefan headed off campus. Vague thoughts of hunting in the woods crossed his mind, but he wasn’t hungry, just restless, and he turned away from the trail that led that way. Instead he wandered the streets of the smal town around the col ege.

There wasn’t much to do. There were a few bars hopping with col ege kids and a couple of restaurants, already closed up. Stefan couldn’t imagine wanting to press into a hot and crowded bar right now. He wanted to be around people, maybe, but not too many, not too close, not close enough to sense the thrum of blood beneath their skins. When he was unhappy, like tonight, he could feel something hard and dangerous rising up inside him, and he knew he needed to be careful of the monster he carried within him.

He turned down another block, listening to the soft pad of his own steps against the sidewalk. Near the end of the street, a faint thud of music came from a dilapidated building whose buzzing neon sign read EDDIE’S BILLIARDS.

None of the few cars in the parking lot had a Dalcrest parking sticker. Clearly a townie spot, not a student one.

If Stefan hadn’t had this burning, angry loneliness inside him, he wouldn’t have gone in. He looked like a student—

he was a student—and this didn’t look like a place that welcomed students. But the ugly thing inside him stirred at the thought of maybe having a reason to throw a punch or two.

Inside, it was wel lit but dingy, the air thick and blue with smoke. An old rock song was playing on a jukebox in the corner. Six pool tables sat in the middle of the room, with smal round tables around the sides, and a bar at the far end. Two of the pool tables and a few of the round tables were occupied by locals, who let their eyes drift over him neutral y and then turned away.

At the bar, Stefan saw a familiar back, a sleek dark head. Even though he’d been sure Damon would be fol owing Elena, he wasn’t surprised to see him. Stefan had reined his Power in, concentrating on his own misery, but he’d always been able to sense his brother. If he had thought about it, he would have known Damon was there.

Damon, equal y unsurprised, turned and tipped his glass to Stefan with a wry little grin. Stefan went over to join him.

“Hel o, little brother,” Damon said softly when Stefan sat down. “Shouldn’t you be holed up somewhere, crying over your loss of the lovely Elena?”

Stefan sighed and slumped on the barstool. Propping his elbows on the bar, he rested his head on his hands.

Suddenly, he was terribly tired. “Let’s not talk about Elena,” he said. “I don’t want to fight with you, Damon.”

“Then don’t.” Patting him lightly on the shoulder, Damon was up and out of his seat. “Let’s play some pool.” One thing about living for hundreds of years, Stefan knew, was that you had time to get real y good at things.

Versions of bil iards had been around as long as he and Damon had, although he liked the modern version best—he liked the smel of the chalk and the squeak of the leather tip on the cue.

Damon’s thoughts seemed to be running on the same track. “Remember when we were kids and we used to play bil iart on the lawns of Father’s palazzo?” he asked as he racked up the bal s.

“Different game, though, back then,” Stefan said. “Go ahead and break.”

He could picture it clearly, the two of them fooling around when the adults were al inside, shoving the bal s across the grass toward their targets with the heavy-headed maces, in a game that was a cross between modern pool and croquet. Back in those days, Damon was wild, prone to fights with stable boys and nights prowling the streets, but not yet as angry as he would be by the time they grew into young men. Back then, he let his adoring, more timid younger brother trail after him and have a share in his adventures.

Elena was right about one thing, he admitted to himself.

He liked hanging out with Damon, being brothers again.

When he’d spotted Damon at the bar just now, he’d felt a little lightening of the loneliness he was carrying around with him. Damon was the only person who remembered him as a child, the only person who remembered him alive.

Maybe they could be friends, without Katherine or Elena between them for a while. Maybe something good could come out of this.

Bil iart, bil iards, or pool, Damon had always liked playing. He was better than Stefan, and, after hundreds of years of practice, Stefan was pretty good.

Which was why Stefan was so surprised when Damon’s break sent bal s spinning merrily al over the table, but none into the pockets.

“What’s up?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at Damon as he chalked his own cue.

I’ve been watching the locals, Damon said silently.

There are a couple of slick hustlers in here. I want to draw them over to us. Hustle them for a change.

Come on, Damon added quickly when Stefan hesitated. It’s not wrong to hustle hustlers. It’s like killing murderers, a public service.

Your moral compass is seriously skewed, Stefan shot back at him, but he couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

What was the harm, real y? “Two bal in the corner pocket,” he added aloud. He made the shot and sank two more bal s before intentional y scratching and stepping back to let Damon take his turn.

They went on like that, playing pretty wel but not too wel , careful to look like a couple of cocky col ege kids who knew their way around a pool cue but would be no chal enge to a professional hustler. Damon’s pretense of frustration when he missed a shot amused Stefan. Stefan had forgotten, it was fun to be part of Damon’s schemes.

Stefan won by a couple of bal s, and Damon whipped out a wal et ful of money.

“You got me, man,” he said in a slightly drunken voice that didn’t sound quite like his own and held out a twenty.

Stefan blinked at him.

Take it, Damon thought at him. Something about the set of his jaw reminded Stefan again of the way Damon was when they were children, of the way he lied to their father about his misadventures, confident Stefan would back him up. Damon was trusting him without even thinking about it, Stefan realized.

Stefan smiled and slipped it into his back pocket. “Rack

’em up again?” he suggested, and realized he was also pitching his voice a little younger, a little drunker, than he normal y would.

They played another game, and Stefan handed the twenty back. “Another?” he asked.

Damon started to rack the bal s, and then his hands slowed. He flicked a glance up at Stefan and then back down at the bal s. “Listen,” he said, taking a deep breath,

“I’m sorry for what’s happening with Elena. If I—” He hesitated. “I can’t just stop feeling the way I do about her, but I didn’t mean to make things harder for you. Or for her.” Stefan stared at him. Damon never apologized. Was he serious? “I—thank you,” he said.

Damon looked past him and his mouth twitched into his sudden, bril iant smile. Bait taken, he said silently. So much for the heartfelt brother moment.

Two guys were coming toward them. One was short and slight with sandy hair, the other big, bulky, and dark.

“Hi,” the shorter one said. “We wondered if you guys wanted to play teams, mix it up a little.” His smile was bright and easy, but his eyes were shrewd and watchful. The eyes of a predator.

Their names were Jimmy and David, and they were real pros. They kept the games close, waiting until after the third game to suggest raising the stakes to make things a little more interesting.

“A hundred?” Jimmy suggested casual y. “I can just about do it, if you want.”

“How about more?” Damon said, sounding drunk again.

“Stefan, you stil got that five hundred in your wal et?” Stefan didn’t, nowhere near it, but he didn’t think he’d need to pay up. He nodded but, at a glance from Damon, played reluctant. “I don’t know, Damon…” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Damon said expansively. “Easy money, right?”

Jimmy was watching them, his eyes alert. “Five hundred it is,” he agreed, smiling.

“I’l break,” Damon said, and went into action. After a moment, Stefan rested his pool cue against the wal . He wasn’t going to get a chance to shoot, none of them were; Damon was moving with clockwork precision to pocket one bal after another.

He wasn’t making any effort to hide that he and Stefan had been running a hustle, and Jimmy’s and David’s faces darkened dangerously as the last few bal s rattled into their pockets.

“Pay up,” Damon demanded sharply, setting down his cue.

Jimmy and David were moving toward them, scowling.

“You two think you’re real smart, don’t you?” David growled.

Stefan poised himself on both feet, ready to fight or run, whatever Damon wanted. They wouldn’t have any trouble fending off these guys, but with the disappearances and attacks al over campus, he’d rather not cal attention to themselves.

Damon, cool and relaxed, gazed at Jimmy and David, his hands open. “I think you want to pay us the money you owe us,” he said calmly.

“Oh, that’s what you think, do you?” Jimmy said sarcastical y. He shifted his grip on his pool cue, and now he was holding it more like a weapon.

Damon smiled and unleashed a wave of Power into the room. Even Stefan, who was half expecting it, was chil ed as Damon lifted his human mask for a moment, his black eyes cold and deadly. Jimmy and David staggered backward as if they’d been shoved by invisible hands.

“Okay, don’t get upset,” Jimmy said, his voice shaking.

David was blinking as if he had been slapped with a wet towel, clearly unsure of what had just happened. Jimmy opened his wal et and counted out five hundred dol ars in fifties into Damon’s hand.

“Now it’s time for you to go home,” Damon said softly.

“Maybe you don’t want to play pool for a while.” Jimmy nodded and didn’t seem to be able to stop nodding, his head bobbing like it was on a spring. He and David backed away, moving quickly toward the door.

“Scary,” Stefan commented. There was a hol ow place inside his chest stil , an empty ache of missing Elena, but he felt better than he had since that day she walked out the door alone. Tonight, he realized with a slight shock, he’d had fun with Damon.

“Oh, I’m a terror,” Damon agreed lightly, pocketing al the money. Stefan raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t care about the money, but it was typical of Damon to assume it was his. Damon grinned. “Come on, little brother, I’l buy you a drink.”

17

“That was amazing! Seriously,” Bonnie said happily, skipping along with her hand in Zander’s. “I am, like, the Queen of Quarters. Who knew I had this hidden talent?” Laughing, Zander threw his arm around her shoulders and pul ed her closer. “You are pretty awesome,” he agreed. “Drinking games, visions, astrology. Any other skil s I should know about?”

Snuggling against him, Bonnie frowned in mock concentration. “Not that I can think of. Just be aware of my general wonderfulness.” His T-shirt was soft and worn, and Bonnie tilted her head a bit to rest her cheek against it. “I’m glad we got our friends together,” she said. “I thought Marcus and Meredith real y hit it off, didn’t you? Not romantical y, at al , which is good since Meredith has a super-serious boyfriend, but it was like they shared the same secret jock language. Maybe we can al hang out in a group again sometime.”

“Yeah, Meredith and Marcus real y bonded over their workouts,” Zander agreed, but there was a hesitation in his voice that made Bonnie stop walking and peer up at him sharply.

“Didn’t you like my friends?” she asked, hurt. She and Meredith and Elena had always had what they privately cal ed a “velociraptor sisterhood.” Cross one of them and the other two would close in to protect her. Zander had to like them.

“No, I liked them a lot,” Zander assured her. He hesitated, then added, “Elena seemed kind of …

uncomfortable, though. Maybe we’re not the kind of people she likes?”

Bonnie stiffened. “Are you cal ing my best friend a snob?” she asked.

Zander stroked her back appeasingly. “Sort of, I guess. I mean, nice, but just kind of a snob. The nicest kind of snob.

I just want her to like me.”

“She’s not a snob,” Bonnie said indignantly. “And even if she was, she’s got a lot to be a snob about. She’s beautiful and smart and one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I’d do anything for her. And she’d do anything for me, too. So it doesn’t matter if she’s a snob,” she concluded, glaring at him.

“Come here,” Zander said. They were near the music building, and he pul ed her into the lit alcove by the front door. “Sit with me?” he asked, settling on the brick steps and tugging her hand.

Bonnie sat down, but she was determined not to snuggle up to him again. Instead, she kept a distance between them and stared stubbornly out at the night, her jaw firmly set.

“Listen, Bonnie,” Zander said, pushing a long strawberry blonde curl out of her eyes. “I’l get to know Elena better, and I’m sure I’l like her. I’l get her to like me, too. You know why I’m going to get to know her better?”

“No, why?” said Bonnie, reluctantly looking at him.

“Because I want to know you better. I’m planning on spending a lot of time with you, Bonnie McCul ough.” He nudged her gently with his shoulder, and Bonnie melted.

Zander’s eyes were so blue, blue like morning on the very first day of summer vacation. There was intel igence and laughter with just a touch of a wild longing in them. He leaned in closer, and Bonnie was sure he was about to kiss her, their first kiss at last.

She tilted her head back to meet his lips, her eyelashes fluttering closed.