The Vampire Diaries #11: Unseen (The Salvation #1)

Author: L.J. Smith

Category: Fantasy , Young Adult

Series: The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation

Unseen (The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation #1)

The greatest threats are the ones unseen….

For what seems like the first time, Elena and her friends are happy. Elena and Stefan have built a home for themselves in Dalcrest, and all of Elena’s friends are as in love as she and Stefan are. Even Damon is enjoying visiting his favorite old haunts in Europe, and is more surprised than anyone that he’s traveling with Katherine. But lately, Elena’s Guardian senses are on edge, and she can’t ignore the feeling that danger is coming.

When a new threat arrives in Dalcrest, Elena’s worst fears become a reality. Soon, she and Stefan are battling a vicious Old One who is always just out of their reach. And when Damon and Katherine are confronted with a strange and mysterious enemy, Elena worries the attacks are linked.

As dark forces close in, Elena, Stefan, and Damon struggle to survive the only way they know how—together. But their lives are hanging in the balance, and every moment they share could be their last…

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Chapter 33

The white lights were blinding. Meredith squinted against them and tried to struggle, but she couldn't move.

Just the dream, she told herself. Just the same dream. Things felt even more real this time: the lights brighter, the room less blurry around her. Her mouth was parched and sore. There was a sharp antiseptic smell in the air. She felt dizzy and nauseous.

It's only a dream, she reassured herself. I can get through this, and then I'll wake up safe in my own bed.

The shadowy figure moved at the edge of her vision, coming closer, and this time Meredith could see it more clearly than she ever had before. Gloved hands moving over her abdomen. A doctor in scrubs, looking down at her, face mask concealing his identity. She couldn't feel the hands moving, but she could see them. She was so numb, as if under a local anesthetic.

Carefully, the figure drew a vial of fluid into a needle, his surgical-gloved hands moving with calm precision. Meredith couldn't feel it as the needle slid into her arm, couldn't move away as the doctor pressed the plunger and the fluid slid into her veins. She arched her neck, shoving her head back against the table, flinching away as far as she could.

Although she couldn't feel the needle, the injection spread like fire across her body, her veins burning. A small, hurt gasp burst from her lips, and she tried again to get away. But she was trapped in place.

Wake up, wake up, she thought frantically.

The figure slid his mask away from his face-and beneath was Jack, his mouth quirking into a smile. Meredith whimpered, trying to push back into the table below her.

"Meredith," he said, running his hand across his face. "I thought that we should talk."

"This is a dream," Meredith said defiantly, but her voice sounded small and scared.

Jack gave a short huff of laughter. "It isn't a dream." He reached, affectionately, to brush a loose hair away from her face. "When you told me you drank vervain tea every night, I knew how to get to you. I substituted a combination of the medications I've developed and a strong sedative for your tea. It made it easy to take you for treatments. I brought you here, and then I knocked you out again to take you home."

"What?" Meredith asked. She was having trouble drawing breath; she was panting with fear. "What treatments? Why?"

"I'm making you like me. You're perfect," Jack told her, and Meredith shuddered, sickened. "Hunters are the best recruits, and you're one hell of a hunter, Meredith. Smart and quick. Strong-willed, not like Trinity, who was so easy for that Old One to compel. You'll make an amazing vampire. When I found out your brother had been a vampire, heard rumors about you almost being changed, well." He shrugged and smiled at her, that lovely warm smile. "It seemed like it was meant to be. Together, we'll be unstoppable."

"No," Meredith said, blinking back hot tears. "I'm not like you. I don't want to be a vampire."

Jack chuckled affectionately, his hand heavy on the crown of her head. "It's not really your decision," he said. "The transformation is almost complete."

#TVD11RealityBites

"Do you think he's really gone?" Elena asked, not looking at Damon. "I mean, I came back, and so did you."

"I don't know, Elena." Damon sighed. "You came back because you weren't supposed to die, because your time hadn't passed yet. And I never should have come back. I just got lucky."

They were together on the apartment's balcony, where Stefan had liked to go to think and keep watch. The late summer smell of roses was too heavy, sickly sweet and oppressive. Elena's eyes were sore, and she rubbed at them. She was so tired of crying.

Damon lounged against the rail beside her, seeming perfectly relaxed. He had the gift of being completely still when he wanted to, without twitching and shuffling his feet like most people seemed to. It was restful to be around him, she thought. He was watching her closely, his black eyes hooded, and Elena couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"When Stefan and I were children, a long time ago," Damon said suddenly, "he was so serious. Unlike me, he tried to do the right thing. He was my father's good boy, and I hated him for it. He'd cover for me, though, try to protect me from my father and the punishments I always deserved." He grimaced, a small twitch of his lips. "Stefan would get a beating for lying to protect me. I never even thanked him."

"You were children," she said gently.

"Protecting me always got Stefan hurt," Damon went on, as if he hadn't heard her. "We fought and we were apart for centuries. Without him, I lost myself."

Elena took his hand. He felt so cold, and she rubbed her hands against his to warm it. "I was lost, too," she said. "After my parents died, I didn't really care about anything. I wanted to be the queen of the school, but it was just pride keeping me going. Stefan ... Stefan was the first person to really see me, to find who I was under what I wanted everyone to see." She felt herself tearing up again, and she pressed her face against her and Damon's clasped hands, so that he wouldn't see her cry. "I'm worried I'm going to get lost again."

"I'm not going to leave you this time," Damon told her. "If nothing else, I can look after you for Stefan." His lips twisted in a wry little grin. "Not that you really need looking after."

"We can look after each other," Elena said. She was glad he was staying; there was a comfort in Damon's presence, although it didn't fill up the void that seemed to be growing inside her. Without Stefan, she felt so alone, one floating speck in a dark and empty universe. But Damon was alone, too, and right now they needed each other.

"And there's another reason I need to stay," Damon said, a new sharpness in his tone. Elena looked up at him, her attention caught. "Vengeance." He gripped her hand tighter, and she squeezed back in response. "Jack? The vampires he's created? We have to make them all pay."

The dark emptiness within Elena slowly heated and began to burn. She might be lost and alone, but, if she could get revenge for Stefan's death, her life would have purpose.

"Yes," she told him, nodding. "Vengeance."

Chapter 32

The sun was so bright Matt had to shield his eyes as he came up to his apartment building. It had been a long, terrible night. Whenever he started to fall into sleep, he had remembered Stefan, a stave in his chest and a terrible emptiness in his eyes, falling like a broken doll. Remembered Elena's screams. Stefan's blood had dried on his sleeve.

Stefan, his friend. Once his rival for Elena's affection-although it had never been much of a contest-briefly his football teammate, his ally against the darkness. Gone. Matt should have sensed that something was wrong about Jack. He should have protected his friends.

Jasmine was standing outside the front door of his building. Seeing her in the glaring sunshine gave Matt a weird sense of deja vu, as if he had fallen through a wormhole and ended up back at that terrible morning when she had told him good-bye.

"What do you want?" he asked her, his voice flat. He didn't want to be rude-Jasmine had every right to have left him-but he was so tired. He couldn't handle anything more today.

"I miss you," Jasmine said, her words rushed. She looked up at him with big, appealing eyes, a tiny nervous smile tilting up the corners of her mouth. "I miss you so much, Matt. Can't we try again?"

Matt felt as if he was dissolving, falling into a million pieces. He wanted that so badly. Warm, loving, beautiful Jasmine. She healed people, and even though she saw so much that was terrible-every doctor did-she stayed innocent; she was good all the way through.

"I can't," he said roughly. "Nothing's changed, Jasmine. No, things have gotten worse." He brandished his spattered sleeve at her. "See that? It's Stefan's blood; Stefan is dead."

Ignoring her soft, pained gasp, he went on. "Everything's dark and scary and awful, but I still can't turn my back on my friends. I can't ignore the darkness." His eyes burned, and he hunched in on himself. "I'm not someone you can plan a future with," he said softly.

Jasmine reached out for Matt, her warm hands taking hold of his arms, covering the bloodstains. She wasn't turning away, he realized.

"Do you know why I came here today?" she asked, and Matt shrugged miserably. "A couple was brought in last night from a horrible car accident." She squeezed her eyes tightly shut just for a moment, as if she was blocking out the memory.

"Even though they were both so badly hurt and in so much pain," she went on, "they were reaching out for each other's hands. They were so worried about each other." She looked at Matt, naked pleading in her eyes. "Bad things happen every day, just driving down the highway. And when they happen, I don't want to be miles away from you. I want to be able to reach out for your hand."

Matt started to speak again-God, yes, he wanted that, but how could he expect her to share this life?-and Jasmine put a hand over his mouth to shush him. "What you and your friends do, fighting monsters so that people like me, can live normal, happy lives? It's so important. You kept who you really are a secret from me, and I understand why. But I want to know now. Matt, I want to be part of this. Please give me another chance."

She swallowed hard and looked to him anxiously, her eyes bright with tears. Matt couldn't even think. He just moved instinctively forward, taking Jasmine in his arms, resting his cheek against her head, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo.

Jasmine had come back to him-and maybe, somehow, they would get through this dark time together.

Alaric and Zander had dug a grave down by the river, not far from the charred remains of the Plantation Museum. It was a lonely looking band who stood around it, Damon thought: Bonnie, his little redbird, clinging hard to the arm of her wolf boy; hunter Meredith looking bruised and wary, her hand tight in the hand of her scholar husband. Sturdy Matt, his head bowed and his eyes red, a girl Damon didn't know standing quietly beside him.

And Elena, silent and withdrawn, the wind whipping her long blond hair around her shoulders. She was staring at nothing, her face swollen and tear-streaked.

Even like this, ravaged with grief, she was still beautiful, Damon thought. His gut tightened. How many times had he thought If only Stefan were out of the way? And now Stefan was gone and it was wrong, all wrong.

They'd wrapped Stefan's body in white silk and laid him carefully in the grave, his weapons around him. It was a beautiful spot they'd chosen, the river flowing past with a continual soothing sound of rushing water, moss-covered tree trunks rising up around them. A breeze fluttered the corner of the silk, its motion a parody of life, and Damon gritted his teeth. Everyone was waiting for someone else to begin Stefan's last rites.

Picking up a handful of dirt from the pile by the grave, he walked to the edge and let it trickle slowly from his fingers over Stefan's body, dark earth sullying the clean white cloth. "It's a waste," he said, his voice hard and vicious to his own ears. "Stefan tried so hard; he worked and worked to not be a vampire, to fight who he had become. And he died still hating what he was." Damon opened his hand, letting the rest of the dirt spill into the grave.

They were looking at him with pity in their eyes, all of them, and Damon was suddenly furious. He didn't need their pity; he could destroy them with a touch, pull down this little town around them. He could fly away, leave them behind, and never look back.

But he could feel Elena's dull grief through the bond between them, and so he put out a hand to touch her arm, and stayed.

Bonnie stepped forward next. "Stefan was so brave," she said. "Even when Elena d-died"-she threw a look of panic at the others-"even when things were so bad for him, he came when I called him for help. He was a really good friend. He loved Elena and he tried to protect all of us. He saved us all, more than once." Her lip was wobbling dangerously, and Zander stepped up next to her, touching her arm in reassurance. "I don't want him to be alone," she went on, her voice thin and high. Taking a small white silk bag from her pocket, she held it over the grave. "This is filled with rosemary and sweet peas, for friendship, and remembrance. I won't forget Stefan." Bonnie let the silk bag fall into the grave, then took a handful of dirt and dropped it in.

"Werewolves and vampires are enemies," Zander said, staring down at Stefan's body, "but Stefan taught me that it's not so simple. He was a friend to the Pack." He dropped a handful of dirt into the grave, too, and he and Bonnie stepped back together, Bonnie leaning on him for support.

Meredith let her handful of dirt fall into the grave and gazed down at Stefan's body. "Stefan was good and strong, and he'd just defeated the last of the vampires he'd hunted for years," she said. "He was happy. When I fight now, when I'm hunting the monsters that Stefan and I hunted together, I'll be fighting for him, too." She took a stake from her belt. "Stefan carved this," she said. "He hunted with it. He should have it." She dropped the stake in, and they all heard the soft thump as it hit the bottom of the grave.

As she turned away, Alaric stepped forward and looked to Damon. "I know they would have said a mass for the dead in Latin, when you and Stefan were young," he said hesitantly. "Even though he didn't go to church anymore, I thought maybe Stefan would have liked ..." He gestured shyly at the piece of paper clutched in one hand.

Damon shrugged. Maybe Stefan would have liked it; he didn't know. He was sure, though, that his brother would have listened politely to whatever Alaric planned to read.

Alaric unfolded the paper and began, "Inclina, Domine, aurem tuam ad preces nostras quibus misericordiam tuam supplices deprecamur; ut animam famuli tui ..." Incline thy ear, O Lord, to the prayers with which we entreat Thy mercy, and in a place of peace and rest, establish the soul of Thy servant ...

Damon felt his lips twist in a bitter smile at the familiar words. Alaric's accent was terrible. Even in the universities they didn't teach proper Latin anymore. And Damon was fairly certain that the fierce God he and Stefan had worshipped in their childhood would have no place of peace and rest for vampires. The Guardians had said, he remembered, that when a vampire died, he simply ceased to exist. Still, if the prayer comforted these children, let them have it.

Alaric finished reading the prayer, then carefully trickled a handful of dirt into Stefan's grave.

They were all looking at Elena now, but she just stood there, her lips pressed firmly together, and didn't step forward. She was angry, Damon sensed, her rage flowing through the bond that connected them.

Finally she raised her head and stared back at her friends. "No," she said sharply. "No, I won't say good-bye. I do not accept this." She was breathing hard, and Damon felt something flutter wildly through their bond. Elena was grieving and angry and in pain, but most of all, she was terrified, frightened of losing Stefan forever. Instinctively Damon stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, cradling her safely against his chest. Her heart was beating as fast as a bird's.

"You don't have to say good-bye, princess," he said. "Not if you don't want to. But you should tell him you love him."

Elena nodded. "Of course I do," she said dully. "He knows that." She pulled away from Damon, turning her back on the open grave, and walked down toward the river.

Damon looked to Alaric, Zander, and Matt. "Finish it," he said. "She's done." Obediently, they picked up their shovels and began to fill in the grave. The first shovelful of earth hit the cloth around Stefan's body with a dry, slithering sound that made Damon wince.

He followed Elena to the riverbank and stood next to her. She was staring silently down into the water, her jaw clenched tight, her hands curled into fists. Meredith, Bonnie, and Matt joined them. Bonnie linked her arm through Elena's, and Meredith laid one hand on her shoulder, and Elena seemed to take some comfort in this.

Together, they listened to the river rushing past. After a while Bonnie said, in the puzzled voice of a hurt child, "I just don't understand what happened."

"Jack was a vampire," Elena told her, her voice dull. "Why didn't I know?"

"We should have-" Meredith began, but Damon cut her off.

"Jack was some new kind, made in a lab." He felt his lip curl in distaste. "He didn't have all the weaknesses our kind have." He quickly explained what had happened-the business card, the lab, the research log. "He can disguise his aura, Elena. There's no way you could have identified him. The vampires who hunted me and Katherine across Europe-he created them. He thinks he's perfected the species, made the ultimate warriors. And now he wants to get rid of the all the existing vampires. Even Stefan."

Elena made a small, hurt sound. They were all looking at Damon now, their eyes wide, and he knew what they were thinking.

Damon was next.

Chapter 31

"I gave Elena valerian and some other sedative herbs and sat with her until she fell asleep," Bonnie said, coming out of the bedroom. "She couldn't stop crying, but eventually she just passed out."

She had felt so helpless, watching Elena lying there, tears slipping silently from her closed eyes and down her cheeks, looking small in the bed she'd shared with Stefan.

Tears flooded Bonnie's eyes. Stefan had been so strong, the calm at the center of the storm, and he and Elena had been the focus of their group, the ones the others all revolved around. She couldn't quite comprehend him being dead.

Meredith and Matt were seated on the sofa in the living room, looking as broken as Bonnie felt. Bonnie went over to them with a sigh, pulling her feet under her on the sofa and curling up next to Meredith. Zander was with most of the Pack, combing the woods in search of Jack, while Alaric was researching, trying to find what kind of vampire could hide his aura like Jack had. Trinity, Darlene, and Alex had returned to their motel, where four of the Pack watched over them, just in case. But the remaining hunters had seemed as shocked as the others that Jack was a vampire. Bonnie remembered that Jack wasn't really one of them, that he had come to this group and enlisted them in his quest to kill Solomon.

Bonnie was glad the others were somewhere else. It felt right to watch over Elena with just Matt and Meredith, the four friends who had gone through so much together, who had known one another longest of all.

"I just don't understand it," Matt murmured, twisting his hands together miserably. "How did we not know Jack was a vampire? And why would he kill Stefan? They'd been working together. They were friends."

"He walked in the daylight, without a ring," Meredith said dully. "He was obsessed with killing vampires. He was a hunter. But he was a vampire, too?"

Matt cleared his throat. When they looked at him, he straightened his shoulders and said, with an obvious effort, "We should call Damon."

Meredith and Bonnie stared at each other in dismay. How could they have forgotten Damon? Despite all the years of conflict between the brothers, Bonnie was certain that Stefan's death would tear Damon apart. And an angry, grieving Damon might do anything.

She could see that Meredith was having the same thoughts.

"Elena should tell him," Meredith said.

Matt frowned. "Elena's got enough on her plate. We need to make things easier for her."

Bonnie shook her head decisively, her red curls flying around her. "Elena's the only one who can keep Damon from totally losing it. And she'll probably want to tell him. We should wait till morning anyway, and talk to her about it then."

"I guess you're right," Matt said. "I just-all I want to do is help her."

"We all do," Bonnie said, taking Matt's broad hand in her smaller one. "But I think the only thing we can do now is be here if she needs us."

Matt rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. "I still can't believe it," he said. "I can't ... I never thought I'd see Stefan fall like that. Any of us, I worried about, but I thought he'd go on forever."

Bonnie buried her face in Matt's shoulder and, even though she'd promised herself she'd be strong, felt a few tears squeeze out of her eyes. "Let's stay here tonight," she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. "Elena shouldn't be alone."

"The sofa folds out," Meredith said, jumping up, glad of something practical to do. "And I think there's an air mattress in the closet."

They got ready for bed quietly. Bonnie climbed into the sofa bed next to Meredith and turned out the light. Listening to Meredith's breathing next to her and Matt's from the floor by the bed, she knew that neither of them was going to fall asleep tonight either.

They would lie here together, in the long dark hours before dawn, watching over Elena. It was the only thing they could do.

In the pitch-blackness, Elena's eyes flew open. She didn't know how much time had passed since she drank Bonnie's potion, but it had put her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And now she was awake, and something was scratching at the window.

She was just drawing breath to scream when she realized that of course she knew who it was. She could feel him. Slipping out of bed, Elena fumbled her way toward the window, banging her leg against her bureau in the dark.

Damon was sitting on a tree branch outside, his inscrutable black eyes fixed on her. "Invite me in, princess," he said.

"Come in," Elena said, and stumbled back from the window as Damon stepped inside, as graceful as ever. When he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she realized he was shaking.

She didn't need to tell him anything, she realized, somewhat gratefully. He already knew, must have known as soon as he'd felt her anguish. His heartache came steadily through the bond between them, mirroring hers.

"I need ..." he said, his voice broken. "Can I hold you?" She nodded wordlessly.

On top of the covers, he held her loosely, his arms strong and comforting. Elena rested her head against his chest and finally let go, knowing that the link between them made words unnecessary, his pain and her pain blending until it was all one shared emotion. Sobbing, she wiped a hand roughly under her nose. She was gross and covered with snot and tears and she didn't care.

"Stefan would have liked to have seen you again," she told Damon in a thick, tear-choked voice. "He missed you while you were gone."

"I know. I missed him, too," Damon said, and their bond throbbed with an extra ache: loneliness, and regret over time lost. He stroked her hair with a heavy, comforting hand.

Elena pressed her face against his chest. Damon, she realized, was the only person in the world who understood exactly what she had lost. She held onto him fiercely as they grieved together, weeping for Stefan and for themselves.

Chapter 30

Now here, Damon thought smugly, is the good stuff.

It had taken awhile to find it. At first, Lifetime Solutions' offices seemed disappointingly reputable. There was a room full of caged lab rats, none of them growing fangs or second heads. The notes on their treatments were incomprehensible to Damon, just lists of experimental medications and reactions in highly technical jargon. The papers in the filing cabinets were similarly dull, and he hadn't been able to bypass the passwords to investigate the computers properly.

Everything seemed boringly, incomprehensibly normal. If Damon hadn't found a business card from this company in the pocket of one of those strange vampires, he would have dismissed it as completely ordinary.

Now he was standing in what was clearly the CEO's office. Bigger and more richly furnished than any of the others, with wide floor-to-ceiling windows and a large seating area. Damon had gone through the desk drawers, the cabinets at one side of the room, the coat closet in the corner. Nothing.

Nothing except that the top drawer of the desk seemed shallower than it ought to be. Damon jiggled it, then carefully tilted the drawer back and slid it forward. Just as he'd thought, there was a small keyhole at the top of the back of the drawer. A secret, locked compartment. Interesting.

The lock wasn't much of a challenge; lock picking was a skill Damon had learned centuries ago. Inside the compartment was a thick notebook bound in brown leather.

Damon quickly flipped through the pages, growing ever more curious. It seemed to be some kind of journal: part philosophical musings, part the record of a series of experiments.

There must be a way to improve with science what can be imperfectly wrought by magic, Damon read. My subjects begin to develop, then die without warning, their hearts bursting under their new stresses. Is there a way to strengthen the circulatory system and allow improved capacity? Multiple surgeries will be necessary.

Subject K4 showed promise, but the side effects of the adrenaline and stimulants were too great. Subject proved ungovernable and prone to uncontrollable fits of rage. After dismemberment of lab assistant, subject was destroyed.

"Subject K4 didn't want to bow down to you, did he, Doctor?" Damon muttered. The back of his neck was prickling uneasily as he read: There was something very, very wrong here. He flipped forward a few pages and read on.

After the deaths of the first batch of test subjects and the disaster of Subject K4, the doctor had adjusted the dosages and streamlined a course of surgeries, not just on the circulatory system but on the muscles, digestive system, brain, and even facial structure and teeth.

And, gradually, his experiments began to survive.

A high dose of iron and protein is necessary to combat the anemia that results from the new bone density. Is the traditional blood diet less mystical and more practical than previously thought?

Blood diet. Damon suddenly realized what he was reading. This person was trying to make vampires.

Trying, and apparently succeeding. As the doctor fine-tuned the surgeries and medications for his experiments, the pages Damon was reading became a record of triumphs.

As I had suspected, there is no reason but mysticism for the limitations of the natural vampire. By rerouting the circulatory system and adding a large dose of melanin to the initial medication, I have made my subjects impervious to the traditional methods of controlling their population: Subjects can walk easily in the sun and are not harmed by wood to the heart.

Nonphysical methods of identification proved more difficult at first to bypass. Test subjects were readily identified as unnatural by humans with highly developed senses: so-called "psychics" and "seers."

Auras, Damon thought. He's talking about people who can read auras, like Elena. The doctor had eventually found a way around this, too. Through intensive meditation and a high dosage of serotonin inhibitors, the lab-created vampires had managed to learn to hide or disguise their auras.

This, Damon thought, absently tapping the page with one finger, could be useful. He read on.

Finally, after so many trials and errors, the experiment has been an unqualified success. My subjects have all the advantages of the natural vampire: They do not appear to age or contract illnesses, they are stronger and faster than humans, they have highly developed senses. And yet I have been able to circumvent the disadvantages that keep natural vampires from being the perfect predators: Unlike their wild cousins, my subjects are not endangered by wood or sunlight. The time has come to move on to Stage B of the experiment.

Stage B? Damon flipped forward again and blinked in surprise at what he found. In the next stage of his experiment, the doctor had used the technique on himself. It made sense, Damon supposed. Certainly if he had created the ultimate predator, he wouldn't want to remain prey.

This didn't really explain why the doctor's lab-manufactured vampires had been coming after Damon, though. He kept reading.

To take dominance in the natural world, it is necessary to eliminate competitive species. The vampire has survived unchanged for too long; in some cases for thousands of years. These targets must be eliminated for my bold new world to be possible. The greatest threat to my new creations is their inspiration: the traditional vampire.

Turning one more page, Damon found two lists of names.

The first was Old Ones, he recognized immediately. First names only-the Old Ones came from a time before people needed more than one name. Klaus, Celine, Benevenuto, Alexander-Old Ones he knew Stefan and his friends had killed, each one crossed out in black ink. Other names he didn't recognize-Chihiro, Gunnar of the North, Milimo, Pachacuti-were crossed out in red.

Only one name remained unmarked: Solomon.

"You've been busy, Doctor Jekyll," Damon muttered, tracing over the red-crossed names with one finger.

The second list was much longer-and much worse. Many of these crossed-out names were vampires Damon knew.

Anne Grimmsdotir: a quiet, fierce girl who had wandered the North since the days of the Vikings. She didn't talk much, but she was graceful and quick.

Sophia Alexiou: beautiful, elegant Sophia, whom Damon had spent a Mediterranean winter with once, more than a century ago.

Abioye Ogunwale: Sharp-tongued and stubborn, he'd always been a gambler. He'd won Damon's favorite boots in a card game, back in the seventeenth century.

Damon stared at the names, an uncomfortable tightness growing in his chest. They hadn't been friends, these vampires-Damon didn't really make friends-but they were people Damon had met again and again over the course of a very long life. Old vampires, strong vampires, who'd hunted and traveled and survived for centuries. All of them murdered for a bold new world of man-made vampires?

Halfway down the page was written: Katherine von Swartzschild. It hadn't been crossed out yet. "Behind the times, Doctor," Damon said softly, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of her name.

At the bottom of the page, the last names on the list: Damon Salvatore. Stefan Salvatore. Dalcrest, Virginia.

Damon placed his hand flat on the book and took a breath, thinking hard.

There were very few people in the world about whom he gave a damn. Now that Katherine was dead, that list was pretty much limited to Elena and Stefan. If pushed, he might admit to a sentimental fondness for his little redbird Bonnie, and a grudging respect for Meredith, the hunter. And every single one of these people was in Dalcrest, Virginia.

Damon stuffed the book into the front of his coat pocket and slipped out of the lab, as silent as a shadow, almost as if he were already becoming a ghost.

#TVD11TVDsMostWanted

"A toast!" Alaric said, raising his glass high. "To the end of the Old Ones!" Everyone clinked their glasses as a wave of giddy laughter flooded Elena and Stefan's apartment. Wrapping her fingers around the stem of her wineglass, Elena looked around and smiled at their gathered friends.

It was hard to believe that a few hours ago they'd been in the dim, cold underground, unable to move. Elena had been so sure it was the end for all of them.

And then, in the midst of the cold, she'd felt a tiny spark of warmth. Bonnie's hand, where it touched her arm, was the only warm thing in the whole world. I'm here, Elena, she heard Bonnie say into her mind. Let me in. Focusing all her energy on that one spot, Elena had sent Power to Bonnie in a steady, thin stream. And Bonnie had freed Stefan.

Stefan's arms wrapped around her from behind, jarring her from the unsettling memory. He kissed her neck lightly, then laughed, more relaxed than Elena had seen him in a long, long time. We're free, he told her silently whenever their lips touched, we're free. You're safe.

Tomorrow they would make plans-head out to Europe to find Damon, and make sure he was safe. Then together they would wander Europe, all of it, the cobblestone streets of Stefan's past and the tall, glass cities of the modern age. Paris, Elena thought, remembering the time she had been there in high school, before she even met Stefan. It felt like a lifetime ago. She couldn't wait to go back and see it all again, with Stefan by her side.

Tomorrow they would begin the rest of their endless lives. But for now they were with their friends, and Elena was happy.

Even Trinity was with them, looking pale and thin, but alive.

Jack stood, and Trinity looked up at him, her gaze full of hero worship. I wonder if he'll tell her he was planning to kill her, part of Elena wondered, somewhat cynically.

Jack smiled widely and warmly around at them all. He was using his hunter's stave like a walking stick, resting his weight on it lightly. "To unlikely allies and unexpected friends," he said, raising his glass.

Elena joined in the toast and then felt her phone vibrate. She paused to discreetly fish it out of her bag and glance at the screen. It was a voice mail from Damon. Tentatively, she poked at the connection between them, and almost recoiled at the anxiety pulsing through their bond.

Before she could slip quietly out of the room, Jack walked over to her and Stefan, blocking her exit. "Stefan, you've been a huge help in this hunt," he said. Elena nudged Stefan with her foot, and they exchanged a private smile. She was pretty sure that Stefan had ended up leading the hunt, not just helping with it.

"I can't thank you enough," Stefan told Jack solemnly. "To know that all the threats we've been chasing for so long are gone at last. Elena and I are so happy."

"Almost all the threats," Jack said thoughtfully, and Elena's head snapped up at the new, darker tone in his voice. And then she saw, panicking, that Jack's aura was wrong. Rusty red, the color of dried blood, was running through the familiar warm brown, spreading like a web of veins. Elena opened her mouth to shout a warning, but she was too late.

Baring his teeth to show his elongated canines-and how could he be a vampire, Elena would have known, Stefan would have known-Jack moved, faster and smoother than Elena would have believed possible, and slammed his stave cleanly through Stefan's chest. Stefan gasped, a long, rattling gasp, then fell heavily to the floor. Jack ran out the door before Elena could even scream.

Elena fell to her knees as the room erupted into chaos around her. Alaric laid a hand on the stave to pull it from Stefan's chest but Meredith stopped him. "Pulling it out won't help," she said. "If it's still there, it might give him more time."

Elena only had eyes for Stefan, but he was blurry through her tears. "Hold on, Stefan," she said desperately, stroking his face. He muttered something and scrabbled at her arm, his fingers weak. "Bonnie!" Elena screamed. "Bonnie, can't you fix-?" Bonnie dropped to her knees beside them, her face white, but shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't think there's a spell for this-" she said frantically.

Elena reached for her Guardian Power and sent its golden light racing through Stefan, trying to heal what was broken. But the dark and cold radiating from the stake in his heart swallowed up the light as fast as she could feed it to him. He was sinking; she could feel it. He was slipping away.

Stefan's eyes were glazing over, and his grip on Elena's arm loosened. "No, no!" Elena was yelling, grabbing at him, trying to keep him with her. "Please, Stefan."

Tears were dripping off her face onto Stefan's, running over his pale cheeks. No, no, no, Elena's mind babbled frantically. Not like this; we're supposed to have forever together. Please. Please.

Stefan's eyes were moving beneath his lids, flicking from side to side. His breath rattled in his chest. His face was tight, almost fearful. Elena took his hand in hers and pressed her lips to his.

Her mind and Stefan's touched, the instant connection between them as strong as ever, and she wrapped him in her consciousness, trying to hold him, to keep him safe. She would never let him be afraid, not if she could help it.

But darkness and emptiness were spreading through him. Stefan, my love, my darling, she thought, please. That was all she could think of, protestations of love, pet names, and the single word please. Please stay with me, my darling one. Hang on. I love you. Her tears fell against his cold face, her lips warm against his cold ones.

Elena? His mind reached out for hers. He was disoriented, and she clung to him, trying to reassure him. It's all right, she thought desperately. It'll all be okay.

You can't save me, Elena. Stefan's thought was terribly sad, but there was no trace of fear in it. I'm so sorry. I thought we'd be safe. I thought we'd have our whole, long lives together. I wish there were time.

No! Don't go, Elena thought, pleading, frantic. Please, I can't let you go.

I don't want to. But be happy without me. Promise me you'll find a way to be happy.

Elena couldn't imagine ever being happy again. I promise, she thought, tears running down her face.

Believe in yourself. Trust your friends. He sounded terribly tired, but there was a warmth in his thoughts that felt like a smile. Never forget how much I love you. You deserve to be loved.

Elena choked back a sob. Stefan, you're the love of my life. My whole life. His consciousness brushed against hers like a caress.

The darkness that had infected Stefan rolled on, taking over more and more of him, as unstoppable as a tide. Elena held onto him, sending more of her Power through him, but the darkness swallowed it like a black hole, swallowed everything, until she was just lying with her arms around him, murmuring, Stefan, I love you, I love you, please ...

The dark tide rolled out, and took Stefan with it.

Chapter 29

After more than five hundred years, Stefan didn't think he should be afraid of the dark, but something about this place unnerved him. They were deep underground in an old reservoir-water hadn't been stored here for years, but the stone was still damp and clammy, moss spotting its surface. Dim light filtered down from above, just enough to navigate by.

"It's like some kind of pagan underworld," Alaric said, wonderingly.

Stefan smiled weakly in acknowledgment but didn't reply. It was so quiet here, just the soft sound of their footsteps and a steady drip of water, somewhere out in the dark. The heavy graveyard scent of the wet stone overlaid everything, and the echo distorted sound, making it impossible for Stefan to tell if there were any noises or smells that didn't belong.

The werewolves didn't like it. They were interspersed among the humans, whining softly in protest, their tails down and their ears back unhappily. Bonnie, striding along just behind Elena, had her hand on Zander's back, her fingers twined in his thick white fur. Stefan wasn't sure who was reassuring whom.

This was Bonnie and Elena's mission, and Stefan hoped that they were right, that Solomon was here somewhere, not in Trinity's body back in Dalcrest. The tightness in Jack's face said that he was taking a lot on faith and wasn't happy about it. "Every moment that we waste here, Trinity could be murdering innocent people," he muttered to Meredith under his breath, but Stefan, with his sharp vampiric senses, heard him.

When Elena had told him that she and Bonnie believed they knew where the real Solomon was hidden-in an abandoned underground reservoir outside a small town called Stag's Crossing, about forty miles from Dalcrest-Stefan had hesitated.

But now, watching brave, beautiful Elena following a trail only she could see, Stefan had faith in her. Elena always came through.

It was getting colder, he realized suddenly. Frost crunched under his heels. Meredith, usually so sure-footed, slipped and swore as she struggled to regain her balance. The wolves drew closer to the humans, and Tristan let out an uneasy whine.

They rounded a corner, and something moved ahead of them in the dim light. Matt flicked up his crossbow and shot without hesitating.

The crossbow bolt stopped in midair and clattered to the ground.

Stefan tried to leap forward and found that, just like at the Plantation Museum, his muscles refused to obey him. The others in front of him were equally still, Zander frozen with one paw raised, Bonnie in the act of turning her head to look toward Elena.

Solomon stepped out of the darkness.

He was not, Stefan thought with a shock of surprise, particularly impressive. At first glance, he was a small, almost timid-looking man, the type of person you might pass on the street without a second look. Nothing like handsome Gabriel Dalton or tall, sweet-faced Trinity. His light brown hair straggled down past his ears, and his shoulders were hunched. Were it not for the Power that held them all helpless, Solomon would have been easy to underestimate.

Then he looked up and his eyes flashed golden in the darkness, and Stefan knew this was him. Those eyes were full of cold intelligence and pure malice, the eyes of something slimy and primeval that had watched from under a rock for countless millennia as civilizations rose and fell.

Solomon stepped closer to them, closer to Elena, and Stefan went cold with dread.

His worst fears were being realized, and there was nothing Stefan could do about it. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He could barely breathe. All he could do was watch as everything that mattered to him was about to be destroyed.

"A pretty girl," Solomon said, his voice dry and rasping, and reached a hand out to touch Elena's face.

Stefan wanted to scream with rage, wanted to strike Solomon and knock him back, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move.

Almost gently, Solomon traced a finger over Elena's cheekbones, over her soft lips, across her delicate chin. And everywhere he touched, Elena began to bleed, tiny droplets coming through her skin and running down the surface of her face. Stefan could smell the richness of Elena's blood everywhere, and his canines throbbed and lengthened against his will.

"Lovely," Solomon said approvingly. He stroked his fingers through Elena's blood, smearing it in feathery patterns across her face. "Perfect."

There were footsteps coming toward them, and Solomon looked up, his golden eyes sharp. Stefan's hopes rose for a second. Maybe this was someone who could help them.

"There you are," Solomon said approvingly, and Stefan's heart sank again. Even though he couldn't see her yet, he knew who it was. Trinity. Whatever was left of her, fully in thrall to this wicked Old One.

Please, not Elena. Let her live, he prayed to the God he had believed in unquestioningly as a human. A stream of blood ran down Elena's chin, dripping to stain her shirt. She was terribly pale.

Beyond Elena, he could see Solomon, his golden eyes following Trinity. She hesitated directly behind Stefan, then passed him by. A moment later there was the sound of skin striking skin and a steady trickle of liquid hitting the stone floor. Blood, Stefan realized with horror, smelling the coppery, rich scent. Trinity had hurt someone, but he didn't know who.

Solomon smiled. "Come here," he ordered.

Trinity walked straight to Solomon and stood before him, her hands folded in front of her and her face upturned to his in a parody of an obedient child. Golden eyes gazed into golden eyes, and Solomon's smile broadened.

"Hunters," he said slowly. "Your old friends. Which shall we kill first?" He looked from one side of the group to the other, slowly, and then nodded. "Jack, of course." His gaze narrowed on the hunter, next to Stefan. "I don't trust him."

Trinity came back toward them, her shoulder brushing Stefan's as she stretched to reach Jack's throat. She gave a soft sound of satisfaction as her teeth pierced his vein. Stefan could smell her now. She stank revoltingly of old blood and sweat.

Solomon stretched out a hand toward Elena again, his fingernails long and black with filth. Tracing one across Elena's collarbone, he sighed theatrically. "So pretty," he said again. "I'd like to keep you, little Guardian, make you mine." Where his finger traced, Elena's skin split open, blood pouring out over her collarbone, down across her chest, staining her shirt with gore. "Sadly, though, I think I should get rid of you now. Your blood is too much a danger to me," Solomon finished quietly.

Staring helplessly straight ahead, Stefan wanted to die. He would gladly die, if it would protect Elena.

Elena's arm quivered.

At first Stefan thought it was an illusion of the dim, wavery light. But then Bonnie blinked, a slow, definite blink. They were still touching, he realized. They were working together, in the same way that they had managed to work together to locate Solomon.

Elena's eyes flicked to meet Stefan's, clear, brilliant blue despite the blood running down her face. In them he could read her message: Be ready.

It was so cold that the first touch of warmth spreading inside him felt like fire. He knew without questioning that it came from Elena.

Trinity was feeding from Jack beside him, making thick slurping noises. Solomon glanced away from Elena for a moment, watching whatever horror his puppet was perpetrating, and then turned his gaze back to her, drawing a knife from a sheath at his waist. Stefan recognized it: It had once been Trinity's. A hunter's knife.

The burning warmth filled his body. Stefan knew he would only get this one chance, and that only if he were very lucky. Solomon pressed the knife slowly against Elena's throat. Suddenly, Stefan sucked in a breath, all his muscles screaming in protest as he forced them to move at once. Lunging forward with a massive effort, Stefan raised his machete and brought it across Solomon's neck.

Solomon's body fell slowly and as it landed, the ice beneath him cracked. For a long moment, everything was silent. Then Trinity fell backward to the ground and began to sob.

Stefan couldn't look away from Solomon, a small skinny body on the cold stone floor. He looked so inconsequential. How many people had he sent out to the world to dance at his command? Jack had been right: Solomon left no trace, because he didn't need to be there to destroy.

When Stefan finally tore his eyes away, he saw that Trinity was kneeling next to Jack, his head cradled in her hands. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed, her eyes their normal, untroubled blue. "Oh, my God. I don't ... it's all like a dream. A nightmare."

"It's okay, Trinity," Jack reassured her. Blood was still streaming from the bite on his neck, but he wiped it away. "It's all going to be all right."

And then Elena was in Stefan's arms, whispering, "We did it, we did it," kissing his face and holding him so tight he thought she might never let him go. The open cut on her collarbone was barely beginning to clot. Stefan automatically bit his own wrist and held it out for her.

"Drink," he said. She bent to suck at his wrist, and he watched her affectionately. "You did it," he told her. "You and Bonnie." He could feel the glorious, thankful strength of Elena, and he lost himself in it, feeling his own triumph and relief echoed back to him.

We're free at last, he told her silently. We can finally live in peace.

Chapter 27

"So," Bonnie said playfully, "I couldn't help noticing a little tension between you and Stefan last night, and then this morning you're so chipper. Everything work out all right?" She waggled her eyebrows at Elena as she stirred her coffee, her spoon clinking gently against the side of the cup.

Elena could feel her cheeks heating up, which was ridiculous: She and Stefan had been living together for years. "That is a lot of pastry," she said, deflecting Bonnie's attention. "What did you do, buy out the bakery?"

They were back at Bonnie's place for breakfast, just the two of them, and Bonnie and Zander's kitchen table was heaped high with croissants, Danish, muffins, and doughnuts, as well as a big glass bowl of cut fruit and a pot of coffee.

"I know, right?" Bonnie said. "It's all Zander. It's either his way of showing how happy he is I'm home, or of making sure I get too big to get out the door again. I've never figured out if throwing all this food at me is a wolf thing or a guy thing or just a Zander thing. He's a nurturer, I guess." She stirred her coffee again and then frowned sternly at Elena. "But you're not off the hook yet. Are you and Stefan fighting?"

"I don't think it's a guy thing," Elena sidetracked. "Stefan doesn't eat and barely remembers that I do. If I didn't go to the store, there'd be nothing but blood bags and bottled water in our fridge." Bonnie shot her a look, and Elena sighed. "We're not fighting anymore. But we've still got to convince everyone else not to kill Trinity."

"I still don't understand about that. Why does everybody think Solomon is in Trinity's body?" Bonnie asked.

Elena explained. She hadn't seen Solomon-or the guy they had thought was Solomon-die, but she remembered everything Stefan and Meredith had told her, how he'd examined all of them, his intense concentration on Trinity as she'd jittered and bled. How they'd thought that Solomon was dead, but then Trinity had escaped them and turned into a powerful vampire with Solomon's yellow gaze. How the "Solomon" they'd fought wasn't originally Solomon at all, but a man named Gabriel Dalton.

Bonnie listened intently, picking at an apple turnover and asking an occasional question. When Elena finished, she shook her head, puzzled. "It doesn't sound like body-swapping to me," she said stubbornly.

"I forgot you were the expert on this," Elena said, with just a touch of sarcasm, and Bonnie made a face at her.

"Listen," Bonnie said. "All I've been doing this last month is working with people's energies. Everybody's got a very distinct flavor that's all their own."

"Like their auras," Elena said, nodding in understanding. Everyone's aura was different. "But I still haven't been able to see Solomon's aura."

"Auras, energies. Potato, potahto," Bonnie said. "Just because you couldn't see it doesn't mean it wasn't there. Somehow, Solomon can shield it from you." She put down her fork and leaned forward, fixing Elena earnestly with her wide brown eyes. "My point is, if Solomon swapped bodies with Trinity, everyone would have known right away, before Solomon-or Gabriel, or whoever-died. They'd be able to tell that it wasn't the same person." Elena started to object, and Bonnie held up her hand. "Think about it," she said. "Nobody ever thought Katherine was you for more than a few minutes, even though you looked so much alike. Different energy. Similar shells, but different inside. If the people who knew her thought it was still Trinity in there-and they hunted with her, they must know her really well-then it was Trinity."

"But when Meredith saw her, she was a vampire," Elena said helplessly. "And she had Solomon's eyes. Do you think she's possessed? That was Alaric's other theory."

"I'm pretty sure you have to be a demon to possess somebody," Bonnie said dismissively. "Old Ones aren't demons; they're just really powerful, ancient vampires." She went back to picking at her turnover, frowning thoughtfully. "I think I know what it is, though," she said.

Elena stared at her. "Go on."

Bonnie rested her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands. "I can do a lot of things now that I couldn't do before, some of them by drawing on other people's energy, like I did last night." Elena nodded. She'd felt Bonnie tugging at her, knew she had somehow used Elena's own Power to levitate Enrique. "And if I were a bad person, a really Powerful one"-Bonnie looked at Elena-"like an Old One, I think I could go the other way."

"What do you mean?" Elena asked.

"If I were strong enough, I could take my own energy and force it into someone else instead of using their energy. I could fill them up with myself and make them do whatever I wanted. It would just be flipping the switch the other way, really."

"That sounds like possession," Elena said, confused, but Bonnie shook her head impatiently.

"No," she explained. "In possession, the demon is actually going inside the person and taking their body for their own. This would be more like a really powerful kind of compulsion.

Solomon isn't inside Trinity; he's just using her. Since he's so strong, he could transfer his own attributes-like the yellow eyes, and being a vampire-but she's just compelled. She's still there, underneath all this Power he's forcing into her."

Hope bloomed in Elena's chest. This was scary stuff, but it was also the first real suggestion that saving Trinity was a viable plan. "So you're saying Solomon does have a body, still out there somewhere," she said breathlessly. "We've been hunting the wrong targets all along-first Gabriel, and then Trinity-while the right one, the real Solomon, has stayed hidden."

Bonnie grinned and jumped up from the table, rattling the plates. She held her hand out to Elena. "Come on," she said impatiently. "If you've been looking for the wrong people all this time, maybe it's time to start trying to find the right one."

In the bedroom, Bonnie spread out a map out over the king-size bed. "This is the whole state," she told Elena. "This kind of compulsion must take a lot of Power. I don't think he could do it from somewhere farther away." She placed a purple candle on each post of the bed, carefully, then lit them all. "Purple's good for divination and psychic stuff," she explained.

She stepped across from Elena, the bed and the map between them, and stretched out her hands. "I need you to use your Guardian Power," she told her.

Elena shook her head. "It doesn't work on Solomon," she said. "I've been searching and searching for him. I couldn't find Gabriel or Trinity, either. There's no trace of them."

"Like I said, he must be able to shield himself from you somehow," Bonnie said. "He knows that you can find evil and is doing something to protect himself from you." She grinned mischievously, her teeth white in the candlelight. "But he doesn't know what I can do. Trust me."

And Elena did. She reached for Bonnie's hands, then, shutting her eyes for a moment, felt for her Power. She thought of the evil Solomon had done: taking over Trinity and the unknown Gabriel Dalton; killing gentle Andres, his blood flowing red across the bed; poor little broken Sammy.

When she opened her eyes, Elena could see Bonnie's aura, gentle and rosy pink all around her, and her own golden one next to it, but there was no trace of evil, nothing for her to follow. "You see the problem," she said.

"Just wait," Bonnie told her. She began to mutter words in some ancient language, and the candle flames stretched higher, flickered wildly, although there was no breeze. The little hairs on Elena's arms prickled.

Then, Bonnie's aura was mixing with her own, the rose and the gold looking like the shifting colors of a summer dawn. At the same time, Elena felt a gentle, insistent tugging somewhere near her collarbone-Bonnie asking let me in, let me in. Gulping nervously, she tried to open herself and let Bonnie take what she needed.

Bonnie spoke faster, the ancient words tumbling over one another in a low monotone, and then, suddenly, she fell silent. From each candle a golden ray arced over Bonnie and Elena, over the bed, to meet above the map. A single point of flame fell, scorching the map. And then the candles flickered out.

"There," Bonnie said, laying her finger on the scorch mark. "It worked."

Elena stared numbly. "We've been looking in the wrong places all along," she whispered. "Solomon's not even in Dalcrest."

Chapter 27

"Zander!" Bonnie objected, laughing, "I'm not tired at all. Let's go out! I want to go dancing and see everybody."

"Nope," Zander said, holding her suitcase in one hand and barring the door with the other as Bonnie tried to turn around and head out of their building. "Now that I've got you in my clutches, I want you home tonight. You have no idea how lonely I've been in our apartment, all by myself." He was grinning, but his beautiful blue eyes were serious, and Bonnie's heart gave a funny little thump.

"I missed you, too," she said, and Zander leaned down to kiss her, his mouth warm and soft against hers.

Actually, if Zander wants me all to himself tonight, I don't really have a problem with that, Bonnie decided, letting herself fall into the kiss. "I guess I can wait till tomorrow to see the others," she told him dreamily.

Zander snorted and wrapped his free arm firmly around her shoulders. "Good luck with that," he said, and swung their apartment's door open.

"Surprise!" several voices shouted. Bonnie squealed with delight and ran to throw her arms around Meredith.

"I missed you!" Bonnie shouted, and Meredith laughed, her arms tightening around her friend.

"Me, too," Meredith said. She looked tired, Bonnie noticed, dark circles under her eyes that didn't belong there, but she was smiling brightly. Alaric came up behind them and took Meredith's hand in his.

"She's been pining away since you've been gone," he remarked to Bonnie. "Once things settle down, you two need some serious girl time."

The Pack was scattered around the room, bouncing off the walls as usual: Shay and Jared enthusiastically making out in a corner of the kitchen, Camden and Marcus knocking back shots, Tristan and Spencer insulting each other, all of them wrestling, drinking, eating, making noise. Bonnie beamed at them all equally, feeling benevolent. They could be loud and wild tonight and she wouldn't care. She was just glad to be home.

"How was Chicago?" Elena asked. She kissed Bonnie on the cheek and handed her a glass of wine. "Did you get a chance to go to the Art Institute?"

"No," Bonnie said, taking a sip. "We didn't get to see a lot of the city; we were mostly working on witch stuff." She was about to elaborate on this, how they'd spent their days in meditation and herb study, their evenings in spell work, when she realized that Elena wasn't listening. Her friend's eyes were looking past her, over Bonnie's shoulder, and Bonnie turned to see what Elena was looking at.

Stefan was on the opposite side of the room, looking at Elena, his face so miserable that Bonnie's heart ached in sympathy.

Bonnie found herself holding her breath, waiting for something-she wasn't sure what-to happen. But after a second, Stefan looked away, and the moment was broken. "Well!" said Elena overbrightly, her attention switching back to Bonnie. "I'd love to go to the Art Institute! They have some amazing eighteenth-century paintings."

"Okay," Bonnie said tentatively. She elbowed Zander and tried to communicate what the hell is going on with them with a subtle eyebrow raise, but Zander only shrugged.

Bonnie turned and saw Matt for the first time-she hadn't noticed him arrive. He looked terrible, his eyes red and puffy as if he hadn't slept for days.

"Matt!" she exclaimed, and hugged him quickly. "Where's Jasmine?"

Matt flinched. "We-uh, we broke up," he said, his voice cracking.

"Oh, Matt." She laid a sympathetic hand on his arm. "What happened?" But Matt was already turning away, heading toward the kitchen.

Confused, Bonnie looked to Zander again for an explanation, but he had moved away to break up a wrestling match between Enrique and Marcus. Grabbing hold of Meredith's wrist, Bonnie dragged her to the side of the room.

"What's going on with Elena and Stefan?" she hissed as soon as they were in a private corner. "And what happened with Matt and Jasmine?" She frowned, thinking of the strained looks behind her friends' smiles, even the slightly frantic quality of the werewolves' play. "Actually, what's wrong with everybody?"

Meredith bit her lip.

"Tell me," Bonnie insisted.

"I will, I swear," Meredith said in a rush. "But tonight, can't we just be happy you're back?"

"Show us a magic trick, Bonnie!" Enrique shouted, successfully distracted from his wrestling match.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at him, then pointed a finger at Meredith. "Tomorrow," she said. "You'll tell me everything." Meredith nodded, and Bonnie walked to the center of the room, her head high. If they wanted her to have fun for one night before they told her about whatever awful things were going on, she would.

"Witch trick! Witch trick!" several of the werewolves were chanting, led by Enrique, and Bonnie smiled. Finally, she could show her friends-show Zander-what the last few weeks had been all about.

Centering herself the way she had learned in Chicago, her fingers resting against the falcon at her throat, she reached down, down, through the concrete and brick of her building to the earth beneath. Once she was planted as firmly as a tree, she stretched her consciousness out, and decisively grabbed on to the energy of everyone else in the room.

A shock jolted through her when she linked to Zander, and through him to the other werewolves. Their energy was rawer than she was used to, a tough, muscular power that made her quiver, feeling hyperalert. She could hear Zander's heart beating steadily next to her, could smell the sharp scent of alcohol from everyone's drinks and a sweet sticky scent coming off the cookies Elena had just brought into the room. Was this the way werewolves felt all the time?

She was more cautious linking to Stefan-his energy was powerful and dark and acutely aware. It had a colder undercurrent that made her shiver, cool and still, while the werewolves were full of life and warmth. Meredith's energy was strangely similar to Stefan's-vampires and hunters, two sides of the same coin, Bonnie thought, almost overwhelmed-while Alaric's felt more familiar, like that of the witches she'd worked with in Chicago. Elena's energy glowed golden and warmed Bonnie from the inside, as if her bones were gently simmering.

There was, Bonnie thought, a lot of Power here to draw on. She pulled it through herself carefully, taming the energy, and then focused it on Enrique, who was still leading the chant. Then she shoved.

With a startled yelp, Enrique hit the ceiling, a little harder than Bonnie had intended, and she held him there, the others' Power streaming through her.

After a moment of shocked silence, everyone, even Enrique, began to laugh.

Let's meet north of campus. 20 min?

Stefan read the text message from Jack and headed for the door. He and the lead hunter needed to talk. Jack was going to have to take Elena's Guardian instincts more seriously; they both were. Besides, it was getting late, and the party was breaking up anyway.

He sensed Elena behind him a moment before she touched his arm. "Stefan? Can I talk to you?" She looked pale and strained, her jewel-blue eyes enormous in her face.

"Yes, of course," Stefan said, his heart turning over. He'd wanted to pull her aside all evening. It had been torturous watching her, not knowing what she was thinking or how she felt about him right now. "Give me just one moment, and we'll walk home." He quickly texted Jack back I can't tonight. Sorry, and turned off his phone.

This was more important.

He and Elena went downstairs and out into the street together, then silently turned toward home. The night was warm and clear, stars glowing brightly overhead. The silence felt companionable, without the tension that had been hanging between him and Elena lately. After a while, Stefan's shoulders lowered, some of his anxiety leaving him. They were Elena and Stefan, and they loved each other, no matter what. He knew that. He took her hand, and she held on tightly.

"I wanted to apologize," Elena said carefully, still looking straight ahead. "Even though I don't agree with what you're doing, I know you're only trying to protect me." He admired her profile for a moment, her small nose and pointed chin, the soft swell of her lips. She looked so delicate, her skin pale and smooth in the moonlight, but he needed to remember that she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, too," he said, and she turned to look up into his face. "I know you're not helpless. You've always been strong, even before you found your Power." He remembered that high school girl, so determined and clever and unhappy, her brave spirit holding both him and Damon spellbound, despite all their years of experience, all the women they had known. After the first shock of the similarity, it wasn't her resemblance to Katherine that had attracted them, not at all.

They had reached the door of their building. Stefan spoke hurriedly, eager to get out all the things he needed to say to her, somehow feeling that they needed to clear the air before they went inside. The next time they went home, he wanted to do it cleanly, without the strain and tension that had been hovering over them like a dark cloud.

"I've been so stubborn," Stefan said. "I know I have. I haven't been listening. Sometimes the only thing I can see is danger to you. I keep thinking, if I can just get rid of everything that threatens you, then we can be free. We can start our lives together, the lives that are going to last forever." He swallowed, suddenly finding himself very near to tears. "If I lost you, I couldn't survive it," he finished softly.

"Oh, Stefan." Elena stroked his cheek, then ran her fingers gently through his hair. "There will always be another danger. This is our life together. We can't waste it."

"I know," Stefan said, raising his hand to take hers. "And I should have listened to you about Trinity. I can't-I couldn't believe that she was still in there. But I believe in you. You're a Guardian and"-he had to force the words out, because so much of him was still screaming protect Elena, save her-"maybe you can sense something I don't." He sighed. "I trust you, Elena. If you want to try to save Trinity, I will help you."

It seemed so simple, suddenly. No matter what happened tomorrow-and he didn't know what would happen, because Trinity was dangerous and Solomon was still after Elena, none of those facts had changed-they were united again. "I love you," he told her. "More every day. We'll be together for a thousand years, longer, and I'm going to keep loving you for all of them."

Elena kissed him in answer, warm and insistent, and he pulled her even closer. They went upstairs to their apartment hand in hand, exchanging kisses the whole way.

"I have something for you," Stefan said when they were finally inside. His slow heart sped a little as he dug in his pocket for the key and put it in her hand. "It's to your house in Fell's Church," he explained, in answer to her inquiring look. "I bought it for you, from your Aunt Judith. When this is over, when Solomon is finally dead, we're going to go everywhere. I'll show you all the places I've been, and we'll find new parts of the world together. But we'll always have somewhere to come home to. We'll have a home together-your home."

Elena's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," she whispered. "I was feeling so ... I wasn't ready to let go of it. I want that, a home we can come back to together."

Elena is my home, he thought and told her so, running his fingers over the soft skin of her cheeks, her forehead, her lips, her throat, as if he could memorize her by touch. She murmured softly back to him, her breath warm, her eyes bright with life. Stefan kissed her neck, feeling her blood beating through her veins, as steady and constant as the tides.

Elena cocked her head invitingly to one side, and he gently slid his canines beneath her skin. The first mouthful of Elena's rich, warm blood brought them even closer together, two pieces of a perfect whole. Home, he thought again.

Elena is my home.

Chapter 26

Finally alone, Stefan gentled his Power and sent it questing through the woods. He was aching with hunger, but he hadn't let himself feed in front of the hunters. They didn't need him rubbing their faces in the fact that they were allied with their natural enemy.

He kept his Power warm and coaxing, beckoning come to me, come to me. Soon he heard a light step approaching through the undergrowth. A doe stepped delicately into the clearing, her big eyes fixed on Stefan.

"Yes, that's right," he murmured. He stretched out a hand, and the doe came to him willingly, nuzzling his fingers with her soft nose. She gazed up into his eyes and gradually grew still, until the only motion in the clearing was the steady rise and fall of her flanks. Stefan lowered his face to her neck, his canines lengthening, and drank.

Long before he was satisfied, Stefan pulled away. Taking any more would leave the deer weak, and he didn't want her vulnerable to other predators because of him. "Go on," he said, slapping her lightly on the side. Shocked out of her trance, the deer started violently and leaped away, crashing through the undergrowth as she went.

Just as Stefan raised his hand to wipe the blood from his lips, his phone rang.

He fished it out of his pocket, still feeling warm from feeding, and looked at the display. Damon.

He let it ring again, thinking of not answering, but stopped himself. Katherine was dead, and whether or not that was Stefan's fault, he owed it to Damon to talk to him. Stefan had tried several times to reach Damon right after Elena had confirmed what he guessed about Katherine's death, but this was the first time his brother was returning his calls.

"Stefan." Damon's voice sounded crisply determined, as if their last conversation had never happened. "I've been following up some leads on those vampires I keep meeting up with, and I wanted-"

"Damon," Stefan broke in. "Are you all right?" He tried to put weight behind his words, knowing that Katherine's death would have changed Damon, damaged him.

And if whatever had killed Katherine was still after Damon, he was in danger. Katherine had been old and strong and clever, not an easy target. Stefan rubbed a hand across his face and leaned back against a tree, suddenly worried about his brother.

He heard Damon sigh tiredly. "I will be," he said quietly. "I've got their trail now."

"The hunted becomes the hunter," Stefan quipped, and Damon gave a short answering huff of laughter. "Damon, why did you tell Elena I wouldn't help you?" Stefan asked.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Because you wouldn't help me?" Damon said dryly.

"Did you want her to be angry with me?"

Damon was quiet for a moment, and then he exhaled, a long, weary gust of breath. "Fine," he said. "I may have not been completely fair when I spoke to Elena. Katherine's death wasn't your fault."

"I didn't know things were so bad over there," Stefan said, meeting Damon's almost-apology with one of his own.

"It's probably better that you're not here. I'd only have to protect you." There was an edge of humor in Damon's voice, and Stefan relaxed, only to feel himself tensing again at his brother's next words. "What's going on with Elena?" Damon asked. "I can feel her pushing herself, all anxious and frustrated. It's very distracting, like an itch." His tone was light, but Stefan heard real worry behind it.

Stefan sighed. His head ached, and the lingering taste of the doe's blood was suddenly sour in his mouth. Stumbling a little over his words, he tried to explain about Trinity, about Elena's refusal to help Stefan and the hunters kill her. "I just want to protect her," he finished miserably. "Why can't Elena understand?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "Listen, little brother," Damon said finally, his voice unusually gentle. "Don't be an idiot."

"Thank you, Damon." Stefan's canines prickled with irritation. "Always a pleasure to hear from you."

"She's not a child; she's a Guardian, you halfwit," Damon snapped. "She loves you-how much she loves you I can feel pounding through this connection between us, even when I don't want to. She's never going to stop. But she's made to protect the innocent, and if she thinks this Trinity is one of them, then maybe you should listen to her. She might know something you don't."

Stefan felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Had he been underestimating Elena, ignoring her instincts, so sure that he knew what was right? "I have to go," he said absently into the phone, and hung up.

Wiping the last traces of the doe's blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, he headed for home.

Damon shook his head and tucked his phone back into his pocket. Stefan never had been able to take advice gracefully, not even when they'd been human. Damon had wanted to tell Stefan about Lifetime Solutions, just in case something happened, but he wasn't going to bother calling back. He'd just have to be careful.

He put the whole conversation out of his head and focused on the office building in front of him. At first glance, there was nothing special about the gray-and-glass building; it was practically designed to blend in anonymously. Only the discreet sign showing an infinity symbol and the words LIFETIME SOLUTIONS confirmed that Damon had found what he was searching for.

And it hadn't been easy to find, not at all. It had taken Damon days of searching, calling in favors, even consulting a witch, before he finally found his way here-to an inoffensive-looking office building on the outskirts of Zurich.

No legitimate business would be this hard to find-which made Damon sure that something extremely shady was going on behind these walls. Something that led straight to the seemingly unkillable vampires.

It was the end of the day, and office workers were beginning to stream from the building. Damon looked them over carefully, finally selecting a pretty young blonde who was walking alone, carrying an armful of files.

This would be easier if he was still able to use his Power to Influence anyone he wanted. Technically, the Guardian who bound him to Elena had only forbidden him from using his Influence to feed, but he'd fallen out of the habit of using his Power on humans in general. Besides, they were a fickle bunch, Guardians; he didn't want to set them off.

And he still had his charm. Moving to intercept the woman, Damon bumped against her, sending her files flying to the ground.

"Oh, no," Damon said in German, "I'm so sorry. Let me help you."

The woman's face had flushed with anger, but whatever sharp reply she was about to make died on her lips once she got a good look at him. He gave her his most beguiling smile and saw her soften instantly.

By the time they'd picked up her files, Damon had learned that the woman's name was Anneli Yoder, that she was twenty-five, and that she was a secretary to a group of scientists at Lifetime Solutions.

"So, what do the scientists do in there?" he asked, his voice casual, his eyes tracing over her lips. Let her think he was asking just as an excuse to keep talking to her.

"Scientific research," Anneli said brightly, tilting her head and looking up at Damon through her long golden lashes. "Health-care stuff. Longevity is one of the things my group is working on. Some rats will live longer on a specially restricted diet, did you know that?"

"Fascinating." He carefully brushed a long golden curl back behind her ear, letting his hand linger. "I'm sure you're invaluable to your team. What do you do?"

"Um, I file," she said. "I take notes at the meetings and send reports to the administrators. I answer the phones."

"Interesting." Damon edged a little closer to her. Anneli's heart sped up and her lips parted unconsciously. She smelled sweet, and he regretted for a moment that he couldn't just feed on her. He was terribly hungry. "What sort of notes and reports?"

Anneli looked startled. "I don't read the reports," she said. "I just send them. And I don't really have to remember what people say in the meeting. I know stenography."

"I bet you do more than that," Damon said, his lips curling in a half smile. "Don't be modest." He was tempted to lay a touch of Power on his words, but who knew what the Guardians would take amiss? It wouldn't be worth it anyway; little Anneli didn't seem to know much.

"Well," she said, a frown creasing her smooth forehead. "I send blood samples to the lab. I have to make sure to label them correctly."

"Samples for what?" Damon asked.

Anneli blinked her big blue eyes at him. "Research."

I could have chosen a better informant, Damon thought with irritation, shooting Anneli his most blindingly bright smile. He'd chosen her because she seemed the easiest to influence without using his Power, and that apparently meant she was also the silliest woman in sight. He sent Anneli on her way, waving when she turned to shoot him an eager smile over her shoulder.

She didn't have the answers he needed. But what she did have, Damon thought with a smile, was a key card that gave her access to the building. He'd managed to slide it from her bag while they were picking up the files. With luck, Anneli wouldn't notice it was missing until tomorrow morning.

He would come back tonight and discover the secrets hidden here. Touching the key card hidden in the breast pocket of his jacket, Damon smiled.

Finally, he was on the verge of learning the secrets behind the strange vampires. The hunted would become the hunter, just like Stefan had said.

But for now he had some time to kill, and the vampires who pursued him hadn't caught up yet. Maybe he could meet someone in this city, some sweet Vittoria, and slake his hunger. Yes, Damon decided, casting one last glance at the bland office building, that was a good plan. He would come back tonight.

Chapter 25

"Ready?" Bonnie asked, reaching for Marilise and Rick. They each joined their free hands with Poppy's, forming a circle of four.

Poppy blinked rapidly, clearly nervous, and Bonnie grinned at her reassuringly. They all could feel Alysia watching them from the other side of the roof and, behind her, the other groups with their mentors.

Bonnie swallowed and steeled herself, shutting out everything except her three friends and the cool stone of her falcon resting at the hollow of her throat. She used it to center herself, breathing deeply, and closed her eyes.

Her consciousness flickered along their joined hands, going around the circle, pulling on Marilise's solidity, Poppy's energy, Rick's calm. To each of them, she said, silently, Can I? Can I? Let me in, and felt each reply a wordless yes. Their hands warmed in hers, and she waited.

And then Bonnie felt a little thrill along her spine as something slid into place between them, all their edges neatly fitting together. With a jolt, they were connected. Power began to pour into Bonnie from all three, filling her, making her gasp. She was a balloon, swelling with the others' Power, stretched so thin it was almost too much for her to contain.

Bonnie opened her eyes-or rather, opened several pairs of eyes, each in a different place. She saw the faraway stars glowing faintly above the city from four different angles. She could see her own profile through their eyes, her head tilted backward, her cheeks round and soft. Bonnie felt like a live wire, thrumming with the energy of four people, burning and fizzing with it.

She took all this Power, her own and her three partners', and gave it a direction. It roared fiercely through her and up toward that clouded, dim-starred city sky. Flooding through her body and expanding farther and farther out, the Power cleared away the clouds, brightening the stars.

Bonnie gasped for breath and kept pushing. Power pulsed steadily through her as she concentrated on summer back home, picnics down at Warm Springs when she was in high school, the sun hot on her back and the smell of fresh-cut grass underfoot. Mixed up with this were Poppy's memories of her days at summer camp, pounding along on horseback on a wooded trail; Rick's of a childhood creek, cold water splashing around his calves, sharp river pebbles underfoot and sticky humid heat wrapping around him like a blanket; and Marilise digging in her garden, fragrant plants and crumbling dirt under her hands.

All those summers combined into one. Bonnie felt it take shape-hot and long and glorious, a perfect summer-and then she pushed it into the night.

Slowly, a bright white light began to grow and grow on the rooftop, Bonnie at its center. A few querulous chirps sounded and then a growing cacophony of birdsong, as birds awoke and decided that they had somehow missed the dawn. Everywhere else, it was night, but here on the rooftop, surrounded by their joined Power, it was day.

Bonnie held the sun in place for a few minutes, locked into a circuit of their Power, which ran through her into the sky and back to them again. She was the circuit. She felt stronger and more flush with Power every moment. She could keep the false day going all night, she realized, until the real sun came up.

But then she pulled back, breaking the circuit. This was just a demonstration of what they'd learned; she didn't need to hold it all night. It was enough to know that she could. Power drained out of her, leaving her alone in her own head. She blinked as her vision reduced to one point of view, one set of eyes. The light faded slowly, and night fell again.

Bonnie let go of her friends' hands and snapped the connection between them, releasing their Power. Breathing hard, they smiled at one another.

There was a burst of applause and some murmurs of appreciation from the group behind them as they surged closer. Bonnie had almost forgotten about their audience. "Very nice, very nice indeed," an older, bearded man kept saying, nodding and patting them on the backs.

Alysia pulled Bonnie to the corner of the roof, grinning. "That was terrific!" she exclaimed. "I liked what you chose, the way you all pulled energy from a personal memory. It's much stronger that way. You're really good at this."

"Thanks," Bonnie said. "It felt ... it was great, I felt like I was all three of them, sort of. And myself, too." She was alone in her head now, but she could still feel the echoes of them: Poppy's spirit, Rick's intentness, Marilise's warmth.

Alysia raised her hand and pushed one of Bonnie's wild curls out of her face. "I know you've been waiting to go home, and I think, now, you're ready," she said. "You've learned so much. Maybe it's time to use your Powers where they're really needed."

Happiness rose up inside Bonnie, making her feel almost weightless for a second. Home! Now she could really help with the trouble in Dalcrest, more than she ever had before. Now she could go back where she belonged. She'd get to be with the friends she loved as much as sisters, and with Zander, wonderful, clear-eyed, warmhearted Zander. She'd missed him with a constant low ache the whole time she'd been in Chicago.

Impulsively, she reached out and wrapped her arms around Alysia, pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you," she said, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, "Thank you so much."

If she concentrated all of her Guardian Powers, Elena could just see the faintest wisps of darkness, like tendrils of smoke hanging in midair. Eyes narrowed, she followed the traces of the dark aura, moving carefully from one to the next as she trekked through the woods. Matt and Darlene were following her, the undergrowth crunching beneath their feet, but she couldn't risk looking back at them. If she took her attention off the trail of evil stretching out before her, it just might disappear.

"Are you sure she knows what she's doing?" she heard Darlene whisper loudly to Matt.

"Yes," Matt answered, defensive. "Remember what Andres did? Elena's special."

To be completely honest, Elena wasn't entirely sure she knew what she was doing. Stefan, Jack, Alex, and Meredith-four experienced hunters, one of them a vampire-had headed out to hunt Trinity today, weapons in hand, earpieces on, aiming for a kill. Zander had his werewolves patrolling the town and the campus, keeping people safe. Alaric was at the university, researching more folklore about body-swapping and possession.

And then there was the renegade force: Elena, Matt, and Darlene, hoping to somehow bring Trinity in alive. They wanted to hold her safe until they could figure out how to reverse what had happened and put Trinity back in control of her own body.

Darlene had appeared on Elena's doorstep that morning and grabbed her by the arm, her fingers as strong and tight as if they were made of iron. Hunter's grip, Elena had thought, trying to wriggle free. Meredith held tight like this.

"Jack told us you want to get Solomon out of Trinity," Darlene had said, fixing Elena with fierce dark eyes, something desperate in her tone. "I want to try, if you will. Trinity's like a little sister to me."

Of course Elena wanted to try. She remembered Trinity's laughing challenge to her on the roof at the apple orchard and felt a pang of sorrow-that sweet-natured girl was lost, and no one was going to help her. If there was even the slightest chance Trinity was still there, they had to try. No matter what Stefan thinks, I need to do what's right, she thought, trying to make herself strong and inflexible. She wasn't used to being on the opposite side of an argument from Stefan.

So now here they were, just Elena, Darlene, and Matt, the three musketeers, hoping that somehow they could save Trinity. Following this trace of wrongness, these tiny shreds of darkness hanging in the air, Elena led them forward. The trail was thin and faint, but it was there.

The darkness led them through the woods away from campus, mostly downhill. Their feet squished unpleasantly in the mud.

At last they came to the edge of a lake. Little ripples wet the toes of Elena's boots as she followed the dark aura right to the shore. When she strained her eyes, she could see its trail leading out over the water, toward the vast middle of the lake.

"It goes straight over the water," she told the others.

"We're not going out there," Matt objected. "We'll walk around, pick it up on the other side."

Elena shook her head, her eyes on the faint traces of darkness. "If we leave the trail, I probably won't be able to find it again. It's too faint."

"Elena ..." Matt said.

"I can't." She stared at him desperately. "We'll lose it."

Matt sighed. "I'll find a boat," he said, gesturing off to the right. "There's a boathouse over there."

Elena nodded, never taking her eyes from the dark trail, barely daring to blink. Behind her, she heard Darlene shift from foot to foot and sigh.

"I knew Trinity's family," the older hunter said. "Before her parents died, they were almost like my parents, too. They fed me, offered me a place to stay, gave me advice I usually didn't follow. Trinity ... she's the only one left. I can't just let go of her."

"We'll do our best," Elena said, her eyes still fixed over the water. "I promise. I want to save her as much as you do." She was trying not to show it, but she was used to having Stefan, Meredith, and Bonnie on her side. With Bonnie gone and the others united against her, Elena felt so alone.

She gritted her teeth. She was doing the right thing, and that had to count for something.

There was a plashing of oars as Matt rowed up to them in a dented old rowboat. He jumped out and waded to shore, pulling the boat up behind him. "Here we go," he said. "There wasn't much selection. The crew team locks their boats up."

Elena sat in the front of the boat and pointed the way, while Darlene and Matt each took an oar.

As they traveled, the evil aura got darker and thicker. Elena was sure now that it was Solomon's. It felt ancient and cruel, like a bitter memory, something that had survived long millennia steeped in violence and hate. There was a strange yellowish-green mixed up in the smoky darkness, and Elena remembered what Jasmine and Meredith had said about Trinity's eyes.

As they neared the middle of the lake, the boat suddenly lurched. Elena yelped, grabbing hold of its side to keep her balance.

"What was that?" Darlene asked sharply.

"The wind must be picking up," Matt said, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

The waves were getting bigger, tossing the boat angrily in the water. Elena gripped the sides so hard her fingers ached.

"There's no wind," Darlene said suddenly, and Elena realized she was right. The sky was black and ominous, but the air was still. The waves moved more violently, the front of the boat going up in the air and then smacking down onto the water with a sickening lurch.

Right in front of Elena, the aura she'd been following disappeared, dissolving into nothingness.

"It's a trick," she gasped, just as the boat smacked into the water hard, dumping them out.

Elena was pulled down, down, down under the water, her hair streaming out behind her like a mermaid's. No, she thought, no, please, no. She'd drowned once before, in the dark waters of the creek under Wickery Bridge. She'd died.

She kicked and thrashed, trying to swim up toward the surface, but it was as if some invisible force was pushing on her, sending her straight down. Her feet hit the muddy bottom and waterweed, soft as feathers, wrapped itself around her legs.

Holding her breath, she bent her legs and pushed off hard against the lake bottom, focusing on the dim light above. She could see shadows in the water above her-Matt and Darlene, and the vague outline of the boat.

She was so cold. Colder than made sense for a summer day, even in deep water.

The water had been cold the other time-the night she went off the bridge. Ice in her hair, the heavy painful push of water filling her lungs, the blackness that had sucked her in. The last thing she had seen was the hood of Matt's car swallowed by dark water.

I'm not going to make it. Elena pushed the thought away and kept swimming upward. Ice crystals were forming around her, she realized, sharp and crystalline.

She was about to break through when her hands hit something hard and flat and cold above her. She gasped in surprise, accidentally letting the water in, and red-and-black sparks burst in her vision. With the last of her strength, Elena pounded her fists against the barrier, felt for an opening. But it was no use.

The pond had frozen over above her. Solomon.

She tried to keep hitting at the ice, but she was floating down, down, toward the darkness below. A human death, she thought, and then, Oh, Stefan, I'm so sorry to leave you this way.

Some last spark in her flared in rebellion. She wasn't going to die like this, not again. She was a Guardian. Elena reached deep, deep inside herself and pulled hard at the last of her Power.

Something arced out of her, a pure white light, and with a sudden shock, the ice above her head cracked violently open. And somehow, with one last feeble kick, she managed to break the surface of the water.

She opened her eyes but for a moment, she still couldn't see. She was coughing, taking great rasping, greedy breaths, struggling not to slip back under. And then something grabbed her by the hair, was now holding her by the arms, and she started fighting it, turning and twisting blindly in the water.

"Elena! Elena!" There was a sharp pain across her face, and Elena stopped struggling, shocked. "Elena!" It was Matt, gripping onto one of her arms, his other hand raised to slap her again. Darlene, her wet hair matted, was clutching her other arm. The boat bobbed across the water next to them.

Tears streaming from her eyes, Elena clung to Matt, his body warm and solid next to her freezing one. She choked and gagged some more, spitting icy water. "It was a trick," she managed to say after a minute, sobbing.

"I know. I can't ... I don't know what just happened, but I'm so glad you're okay." Matt gulped and took a deep breath, his arms tight around Elena. "We have to get back to shore."

Matt boosted Elena up, steadying the boat with one hand. With a lot of effort, she managed to wiggle back over the side, scraping her stomach uncomfortably, and land in a graceless heap on the bottom of the boat.

They rowed back toward shore. The waves were gone and the surface of the lake was still. The ice had already almost melted in the summer sun, but here and there bits of it bobbed on the lake surface, so beautiful that Elena could barely believe it had just tried to kill her.

Matt frowned. "Maybe Stefan is right. Maybe it's too dangerous to try to save Trinity."

"No," Elena said. Her head was pounding, her eyes burned, and her chest felt raw and painful, but she wasn't going to listen to an argument about this again. "We're not going to kill her. Not unless we know for sure that she's already gone."

"No sign here," Jack said, tapping his earpiece. "But Solomon doesn't usually leave evidence of kills. Stay north and keep your eyes open. We're heading southwest."

Meredith heard the murmur of Stefan and Alex's reply, and then they ended the transmission. Jack jerked his chin and she followed him southwest through the woods, scanning carefully all around them.

She caught sight of a mark in the mud underfoot and lifted a hand to get Jack's attention. "Footprints," she said, keeping her voice low just in case. The indentations were indistinct, but they looked about Trinity's size. Not many people would be walking this far back in the woods.

Jack kneeled down to examine them, his blue-jeaned knees sinking into the soft soil. "Not her." He gestured at the heel. "These are too big. Trinity has smaller feet than this."

"Oh," said Meredith, disappointed. They'd been searching the woods for a while, and so far, they hadn't found anything. No bodies, no sign of anything unnatural. "Sorry," she added, feeling useless.

"Solomon's always been incredibly talented at staying invisible," Jack said, as if he were reading her mind. "Andres being able to find Solomon was the first break we'd had in a long time." He straightened up and shot Meredith a crooked smile. "Any chance we'll be able to talk Elena into trying again? I didn't know how handy a Guardian could be."

Meredith shook her head. "Elena won't help hunt as long as she thinks she might be able to save Trinity."

"Yeah, I see that." Jack's shoulders drooped and, for a minute, he looked very tired. "Trinity was a terrific hunter. But we have to accept that she's gone and what we're hunting is the vampire that killed her."

"I know," said Meredith. Her stave felt heavier than usual. There wasn't a lot of pleasure in this hunt, knowing that, at best, it would end in fighting something that had the shape of a friend.

They walked on in silence for a while. A couple of times, Jack stopped to check footprints on the forest floor, but both times shook his head and went on. Not Trinity's. Meredith kept her eyes peeled for any anomalies.

Then she spotted a familiar clump of plants: soft purple blossoms, branching green stems, and small-toothed leaves. "Look, vervain," she said, pleased, and unzipped the pack she carried on her back. The opportunity to restock their vervain supply wasn't something she would pass up. She began to pick the herb's shoots one by one, careful not to crush their blossoms.

"I haven't used vervain much," Jack said, coming closer to look. "But I should probably start putting it in tea or something, like you do. Does it hurt Stefan, though? To be around it?"

"Not really. Of course, he could never drink from any of us, but I don't think it would ever come to that." She paused. "It's important for the rest of us to keep our minds clear. We need all the defenses we can get."

Jack crouched down to examine the spindly plants more closely. "I never would have considered hunting with a vampire before now," he ventured. "Doesn't it bother you? What he is?"

Meredith straightened up. She'd picked all the plants but left the roots, just the way Bonnie had taught her. They'd grow again and she could come back to this patch for more. "Stefan's more than proven himself to me," she said flatly. "And he's not a killer. He doesn't feed on humans."

"I know that," Jack said. "He told me. Doesn't that make him weaker, though?" His dark eyes were intent.

"I guess, but he's pretty strong anyway. He's old, and vampires get stronger with age," Meredith said, suddenly determined to defend Stefan. She took a few steps farther into the woods, continuing their trek, then stopped and turned back to Jack, feeling a fierce, protective rush of heat inside her. "I trust Stefan. I might be a hunter, but I'm always going to be on his side."

Jack nodded and started walking again, shoulder to shoulder with her.

They walked in silence for a while after that. The day was getting hot, the sky a deep blue dome high above them. Meredith felt easier now, glad that she and Jack understood each other about Stefan. He wasn't an enemy of the hunters.

"You look tired, Meredith," Jack said, breaking the silence. "You doing all right?"

"I ... I haven't been sleeping well lately," she admitted.

"Anything wrong?"

"I keep having these weird dreams," Meredith said hesitantly. It wasn't really in her nature to talk about things like this; she hated seeming weak. But she felt strangely comfortable with Jack: He was a hunter; he was like her. "I dream that I'm in a hospital room, or maybe a lab, and I can't move." Shuddering, she realized how lame her words sounded. It was hard to explain how disturbing the dreams were. "I just feel like something terrible is happening," she said weakly.

Jack nodded, his warm brown eyes sympathetic. "Sounds scary." His arm brushed Meredith's reassuringly. "But you know the dreams can't hurt you, unless you let them. They're just images your mind has created while you're asleep. It's reality we need to worry about."

"I know." And to her surprise, Meredith did feel a little better. Just bringing the dreams into the daylight, putting them into words, had made them seem harmless. Jack was right. What was scary about a few dreams when she fought monsters in real life?