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

Chapter 10

Meredith flipped her pillow over to find its cooler side, lay down again, and squeezed her eyes shut. Sleep, she told herself firmly. She had so much to do tomorrow, so much to do every day. She couldn't afford not to be rested.

But when she closed her eyes, all she saw was the cat's little body, bloody and torn. It was a message, she knew: Solomon wanted them to know it could have been any of them. Would be one of them, all of them, soon.

They were determined to find him, but so far Jack was right. Solomon seemed to be invisible.

They'd gone to the apple orchard and searched the fields and woods around it, hoping that Solomon's hideout would be nearby. Nothing. A heavy ominous feeling hung over all of them like a dark cloud. He was coming, and it would be better to hunt him and fight him on their own terms rather than wait for his attack.

Meredith flipped her pillow again and turned over, looking for a more comfortable position. Alaric was snoring softly next to her, sleeping like a log. Closing her eyes again, she saw white on red: the white cat ripped apart on the blood-drenched bed.

Then the image morphed into her friend Samantha, torn apart by vampires back in college, blood sprayed across her bed, and Meredith took a quick breath, one that sounded more like a sob to her own ears. Then it was her brother, Cristian, his gray eyes half-open, Meredith's own stave through his heart.

Every night recently it had been like this, images of death keeping Meredith awake until exhaustion finally caught up with her. So much death.

Pushing the memories away, she tried to make herself relax, timing her breathing to Alaric's: slow, long, steady breaths. She was so tired.

Time passed. After a while, she realized with a start that she was somewhere new. It was chilly, and a glaring white light hung above her, hurting her eyes. She tried to turn her face away.

She couldn't move.

Tensing her whole body, she took a deep breath and tried again. She still couldn't move. It felt like a tracery of thin wires was fitted over her body, holding her in place. Trying not to panic, Meredith strained against it, making an effort to lift one leg and then the other, her mouth dry with fear. Paralyzed.

Her heart thumped in her chest. She couldn't even turn her head. Meredith could hear herself panting, the sound harsh in the silence. Losing her careful control for a moment, she struggled frantically, the tendons in her neck going tight as she tried to thrash against the pillow. She wanted to hit out with her arms, kick, jump up and fight, or run away. But finally she stopped. She still couldn't move.

Calm down, she told herself sternly. Figure out where you are.

The light was blinding, making her eyes sting and water. But if she blinked away the tears, she could make out white walls, flat and sterile looking. A harsh antiseptic smell. Was she in a hospital?

Meredith was stretched out flat on some kind of bed or table, legs together, arms at her sides. There was something made of shiny silver metal just to the left of her head. She tried to examine it through the corner of her eyes. A sink maybe, or some kind of medical equipment.

Something moved at the edge of her field of vision, and she flinched backward. Whatever it was, she knew it wasn't good.

It was watching her.

Something in Meredith snapped, and she began to thrash again, straining ineffectively against the wires holding her immobilized. She tried to shut her eyes against the glare and found that they, too, were held open now. Her throat felt rough and raw, and a harsh, shrill sound went on and on, hurting her ears.

It was a while before she realized that she was the one screaming.

Meredith's eyes snapped open onto darkness. She gasped and panted, trying to calm her racing heart. She was in her own bed. Just a dream.

She'd kicked off the covers. Alaric was stirring and grumbling next to her. "S'matter?" he asked groggily. "You all right?"

"Bad dream," Meredith said, wiping roughly at her eyes. Hunters did not cry. "I couldn't move," she told him. "Something terrible was about to happen to me. I was ..." She paused to gather her thoughts, and Alaric wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

"It's okay," he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. "Just a dream." He sighed, already falling back asleep. Meredith bit back more explanations of exactly how terrible the dream had been, how shaken and uncertain she still felt. Alaric was right; it was only a dream.

But she couldn't shake the feeling of dread coursing through her. There was only one person who might know what it meant, who took dreams as seriously as she did. I wish Bonnie were here, she thought longingly.

I wish I were home, Bonnie thought longingly. This was nothing at all like she'd pictured.

She'd thought a witchy retreat would be all about getting in touch with nature. Hadn't Alysia said that they would be channeling natural elements? Bonnie had pictured a bunch of earthy, hippie types, chanting and waving crystals in between learning about herbs and spells.

It wasn't anything like that. Instead, Bonnie found herself in an elegant skyscraper apartment far above the streets of Chicago. Looking out the floor-to-ceiling stretch of windows beside her, she could see a steady stream of traffic below, the cars tiny and toylike. There were about twenty people scattered in groups around the big room, all beautifully dressed, glasses in hand. Near her, a sharp-featured blonde in an ice-blue cocktail dress tipped her head back and laughed shrilly. It was an expensive cocktail party in a big city, and Bonnie felt frumpy and out of place.

I am strong, she told herself. I am magic. But she could feel a prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. This room of strangers felt almost like the glamorous high society she'd mingled with in the Dark Dimension, a place Bonnie had tried to shut away in the back of her mind. These people could easily be vampires and demons. Why not? What proof did she have, after all, that they weren't? There was no Lady Ulma here to dress Bonnie in finery so that she could outshine them all, and no Damon to save her if they trapped her. Bonnie shoved her fists deep into the pockets of her pants and hunched her shoulders.

The only thing that indicated this place might be more than just an expensive apartment was the mosaic floor, the small tiles underfoot making up a design of intertwining plants, with dark green and rich gold and patches of bright color. Chamomile, she identified automatically, good for strength and healing. Valerian, to guard against evil. Daisies for happiness.

The pattern of leaves and vines and blossoms went all the way around the edges of the room. Further in were runes and other symbols. All the ones she could identify were positive, signs of healing and protection. The center of the mosaic was filled by a brilliant golden sun.

So, probably good witches, Bonnie thought hopefully. Not vampires and demons.

Her phone buzzed in her bag, and Bonnie automatically fished it out. There was a text from Zander: Remember you've saved the world before. You rock. Have fun. I <3 u. xox

So sweet, Bonnie thought. He was thinking of her, had known she might be feeling nervous. She pictured Zander's eyes, the warm blue of a Caribbean sea, looking at her with simple love. Zander believed in her. And she should, too.

Bonnie straightened her shoulders and dropped the phone back in her bag before striding confidently into the middle of the room. I've saved the world before. I rock.

Alysia came over to meet her. In a little black dress, her wild curls tamed in a loose bun, she was more pulled together than she'd been at Mrs. Flowers's. But her wide, freckly smile was the same.

"Bonnie!" she exclaimed, handing her a glass of wine. "Let me introduce you to the people you'll be working with over the next few weeks." She led her to a small group centered around a leather sofa. The floor beneath them, Bonnie noted, had the Nordic rune Fehu. The slanty F represented abundance, success, and energy. I guess Mrs. Flowers making me memorize all those runes might come in handy after all, she thought.

There were three other people in what was going to be her group. On the couch was a thin African American man a few years older than Bonnie whom Alysia introduced as Rick, and a gray-haired older woman named Marilise. Poppy, a tall, willowy girl whose designer clothes screamed "society diva" to Bonnie, hovered beside them.

After introducing them all, Alysia left to talk to another group, and an awkward silence stretched between them. Bonnie fiddled with the glass in her hand, putting it down on a tiny table at one end of the couch, then picking it up again.

"So," Rick offered at last with a thin smile, "is this what you guys were expecting?"

Marilise shook her head. "I'm used to pulling energy out of the elements when I work," she said. "I like to have my feet planted firmly on the ground and growing things all around me. I don't know how I'm going to manage."

Poppy was nodding eagerly. "I totally agree," she said. "I talked to Alysia about it, asked her why they brought us all to the middle of Chicago. She said part of the challenge is connecting with natural elements anywhere, even in places that are the farthest from nature. It's supposed to make us stronger," she finished with an awkward little laugh.

They're all just as nervous as I am, Bonnie realized, and that fact warmed her. She smiled at Poppy and the girl grinned back at her, tucking a tiny wisp of hair back into place.

"I've never really thought of the things I can do as connecting with the natural elements," Bonnie said thoughtfully, "but nature's all around us, isn't it? Even here. We've got the sun and the wind, and the earth's still there, under all that concrete." They were all nodding, and Bonnie stood up straighter under their attention. "I use a lot of herbs," she told them, "and those are a bit of the natural world you can take anywhere."

Looking at their interested faces, Bonnie realized that here were people who wanted to learn what she had to teach them, who could probably teach her things she didn't know. Zander was right, she thought. She smiled tentatively around at the group, and they smiled back at her. Right now, this is where I need to be.

Chapter 11

"Is that a gun?" Elena asked, knowing it was a stupid question. They were at the apple orchard on the edge of town, on the roof of the building that housed the cider press, and Jack was loading a handgun with wooden bullets, quickly and competently. What Elena meant was, why do you have a gun?

"Sure," Jack said easily. Catching Elena's expression, he laughed. "Look, I know that bullets won't stop a vampire, especially not an Old One. But wooden bullets might slow him down a little at a distance while we're getting ready to fight."

"Good idea," Stefan said thoughtfully, resting a hand on Elena's shoulder. "What else do you use?"

"Take a look," Jack said, nodding toward a couple of large duffle bags in the corner. Meredith and Zander were already picking carefully through them, examining weapons, while Alaric watched from a few feet away.

"Is this a flamethrower?" Meredith asked, her gray eyes bright with excitement. "Awesome!"

The roof of the cider press building was shady and cool. "We haven't seen a sign of Solomon," Jack had told them when his team welcomed them up. "But we're keeping an eye on things. This is a good place to train, too. Nothing overlooks us, plenty of room, and there aren't many people here this time of year. Easy to avoid being seen."

It should have been a peaceful place, the tiny green apples dangling from the trees' branches, no sound but the rustling of the leaves. But shadows lurked beneath the trees, and Elena shuddered. What did this sun-dappled place have to do with an ancient vampire?

She watched, slightly wary, as Darlene handed Meredith something that looked like a weed sprayer attached to a couple of cylinders and Meredith shot a ball of flame across the roof.

"Careful there," Darlene warned, but Meredith laughed.

"That's such a good idea," she said. "Take the fire right to the vampire. How did you manage to get that?"

"We've got connections," Jack said with a wink. Then he sobered. "Seriously, though, there's nothing more important than eliminating vampires. Vampires who are a threat to humanity, of course," he added quickly, looking at Stefan.

"You want to see some of the fighting moves we've worked out?" Trinity offered eagerly. At Meredith's nod, Trinity picked up a stave from the bag and took a tae kwon do stance, poised with one foot in front of the other, her weight carefully balanced. "Attack me," she said, smiling broadly. "But not with the flamethrower, please."

Meredith flashed her a smile in response, and slipped out her own stave. Before Trinity could brace herself, Meredith swept the stave at her legs, and Trinity had to leap to avoid the blow. A moment later, Roy, the shorter of the two brothers, joined in, swinging a heavy blade at Meredith's arms.

"Practice sword; it's blunt," Jack muttered in an aside to Elena.

Stefan joined the fight, moving so quickly and gracefully that he seemed like a blur, using his superior strength to pull Trinity off balance as his teeth just grazed her throat. But then Alex, the other dark-haired brother, jumped in. The three hunters managed to separate Meredith and Stefan, blocking them whenever either got close to one of their opponents. Alex fell to one knee as Meredith swung her stave at his head, and Trinity immediately stepped on his back, launching herself into the air and knocking Meredith to the ground.

The three hunters were fighting smoothly as a unit, keeping Meredith and Stefan off balance. It reminded Elena of how the Pack fought, and she glanced at Zander. He was watching with a smile of simple enjoyment, his eyes sharp.

"Nice," Meredith said, waving away the hand Trinity extended to her and climbing to her feet.

"We know you two fight well together," Jack said, nodding to Stefan. "You could never have defeated Old Ones if you didn't. But we hunters have our own techniques, based on centuries of experience fighting in groups. We can teach you, if you want."

He and Darlene lined up across from Meredith and Stefan, beginning to demonstrate stances and holds. Trinity wandered over to Elena.

"Want to spar?" she offered, grinning easily and pushing her long brown hair out of her eyes.

Elena felt herself flush. "Thanks," she said, "but I'm not a fighter."

"That's not what I heard," Trinity argued. "You're a Principal, aren't you? Come on. Want me to show you some moves?"

Elena reconsidered. Since she'd met Stefan, she'd found herself fighting against all kinds of enemies-supernatural and otherwise-and there was always the chance that one day her Guardian Powers and her friends wouldn't be enough to save her in a battle. Maybe it was time she learned to defend herself better. Plus there was the edge of a challenge in Trinity's cheerful gaze.

"You're on," Elena said. "How do we start?"

Trinity's smile spread. "Okay, slide your feet shoulder-width apart, and balance your weight equally between them. Keep your arms loose with your fists just in front of your stomach." She glanced down and nudged Elena's feet a little closer together with her own sneakered foot. "Good," she said. "Now, just react as I move at you."

She punched straight at Elena's chest, moving in half time, and Elena lifted her arm automatically to block the blow. "Good," Trinity said again, shifting quickly to kick at Elena. She made contact this time, her foot gently hitting the side of Elena's thigh.

Elena swung around and kicked back at her automatically. Trinity dodged out of the way, huffing a small surprised laugh. "Awesome," she said. "Powerful and amazing, right? Try again, but this time, slide your right foot a bit forward and point your left foot to the side. That way, you can shift your weight back better when you kick and get more momentum going."

Elena changed her foot position and was eyeing Trinity carefully, getting ready to kick again, when Zander stiffened and held up a hand for silence. "There's someone coming. More than one person," he said. "Apple smell's stronger."

Stefan heard them, too; Elena could tell. He and Zander stepped to either side of the roof entrance, ready.

"Come on," Trinity whispered, as she and the other human hunters arranged themselves in a curving line to meet whatever came through the door. Elena and Alaric, the weakest fighters, dropped back behind the line. Alaric was muttering a quick charm, and Elena closed her eyes for a moment, searching for evil. She couldn't activate her Guardian Powers without an immediate threat. At least, not yet.

But, try as she might, she couldn't sense anything unusual. Then the roof door burst open and three figures charged through.

They looked like a bunch of townie dads, Elena had time to think, but it didn't matter. She'd seen enough vampires to know they could have started out as anyone. Two had stakes, and one carried a machete, its blade gleaming wickedly.

The one with the machete swung it at Stefan, his teeth bared with rage, and Elena gasped in surprise as Stefan jerked back, blood streaming down his arm. Zander tackled Stefan's attacker from behind, low and fast, changing forms as he cannoned into the back of the guy's legs, and they fell in a tangle of fur and limbs. The machete clattered onto the rooftop beside them.

Stefan, his wound already closing, grabbed the next attacker by the arm and flung him in the air like a rag doll. The guy landed with a thud at the edge of the roof as Meredith stepped smoothly forward to strike him with her stave. At the edge of the roof, Jack drew his gun.

The third man, tall and blond, reached for the machete, swinging it up with an easy grip. Jack fired his gun, but the man kept coming, machete raised in one hand and a stake in the other.

"Wait!" Stefan called. "Stop!" He was staring in horror at the guy he had thrown across the roof, who was clambering to his feet slowly, blood streaming down his face from a head wound. The man with the machete snarled and charged toward Meredith, his shirt darkening with his own blood.

Stefan reached out and held him back, pinning his arms and forcing the man to drop the machete and the stake. Zander held his opponent by the back of the throat and shook him a little, growling.

"They're humans," Stefan said. "They've been Influenced; they're not responsible for what they're doing."

The blood-soaked guy charged, but Jack grabbed him and held his arms firmly behind his back, as he struggled and kicked. All three kept fighting without pause, wrenching away from their captors ceaselessly, even though they were clearly helpless against them. Elena could see now what Stefan had sensed with his Power: Their auras were curiously clouded, as if they weren't really aware of what was happening.

"What should we do?" Trinity asked, distressed.

"Let me try," Stefan said. He shifted so that he was holding the blond guy firmly still, face-to-face. The man snarled and tried to lunge at him, not flinching even when Stefan dug his fist into the bleeding bullet wound to stop him. Elena saw Stefan's gaze flicker down to the wound and back again, the almost imperceptible flare of his nostrils as the scent of fresh blood hit him. Then he swallowed and focused, locking his eyes on the guy's.

"You don't want to do this," he said softly. "You want to stop and go home." He was trying to use his Power to break the Influence, Elena could tell, but it wasn't working. The man's aura grew grayer and more clouded as Stefan spoke, and he fought harder against him. Stefan tried using his Power on the others, one after the other, but it was no use.

"I can't break it," he admitted finally. "They've been Influenced by someone really Powerful."

Jack nodded. "Solomon. He's sending you a message. He knew we wouldn't kill the humans, and that they couldn't beat us. He wanted to show you how Powerful he is."

"I've got an idea," Zander said thoughtfully. Back in human form, he rubbed at his jaw as if it were sore, working it slowly. "I might be able to break the compulsion enough to get these guys to tell us the truth." He turned the bearded man with the head wound to face him, keeping a steady, gentle grip on him. Zander was so laid-back, Elena sometimes forgot how inhumanly strong he was. But now she couldn't help seeing how easily Zander controlled his captive, even though the guy fought and thrashed, his eyes stretching wide and his teeth bared.

Zander rested his chin on the guy's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, pressing their chests together. Turning his head to face into his captive's neck, he breathed steadily and deeply. After a moment, Elena realized Zander was growling softly, deep in his throat.

At first, the guy fought harder, rearing away, but Zander only pulled him closer, blood from his face smearing across Zander's own cheek. The hair on Zander's arms was growing longer and thicker, Elena realized, turning to white fur again. His shoulders hunched and his jaw lengthened.

Zander wasn't changing fully this time, she saw, but he was somewhere between a wolf and a man now. Roy and Alex glanced anxiously at each other, but no one moved.

Finally, Zander's captive seemed to give up and grew still, his head hanging down against Zander's shoulder. His aura had calmed, Elena saw, its natural soft yellow color breaking through in patches.

Then Zander spoke, his voice half a growl, half human speech. "Why are you here?"

The guy was panting in time with Zander's breaths, and his answer seemed to be pulled out of him in gasps. "To kill the girl," he said. "Kill everyone with her. Don't give up."

"Who told you to do this?" Zander asked. The guy panted against him, not answering, and Zander's voice dropped an octave, the growling note increasing. "Who was it?"

The guy thrashed once more and then went limp, supported only by Zander's arms around him, holding him up. "Didn't know him," he panted. "Some guy. He was tall." He licked his lips. "Yellow eyes like a coyote. He wanted us to meet him on the hills north of campus two nights from now. Midnight under the full moon. Bring the girl's head, or we'll suffer."

Elena caught her breath and looked at the others. Jack's eyes were wide, a smile beginning to play around the edges of his mouth, and Trinity was biting her lip. Stefan had grown very still and thoughtful.

Zander relaxed, shifting the guy's weight, and his captive went limp against him. "I don't think he has anything else to tell us," he said. "He smells like apples, though. They all do. Probably they work here at the orchard."

It took Elena a moment to catch his meaning, but then it dawned on her. "If the scent came from them, the orchard might have nothing to do with Solomon," she said.

Alaric cocked an eyebrow. "At least if they were compelled to break into your apartment to destroy the stave and kill your cat, it probably means Solomon can't come in without an invitation."

Elena shrugged. That wasn't very comforting, not if Solomon could send people in after her, and not if his magic could infiltrate her apartment. She thought of the ice cracking across her windows, and shivered.

"Would sending humans work? Could they kill you?" Meredith asked, looking at Elena. "They're human, but they've been Influenced. Surely that wouldn't count as not being supernatural."

Elena shrugged again. She didn't know, but she didn't really want to test the theory.

"It's irrelevant," Stefan said. His voice was sharp. "They'd never get to Elena."

"The important thing is that now we know where Solomon will be in two nights," Jack said softly.

Stefan smiled. "Maybe we can get the jump on him this time."

It wasn't much, not yet, but it was the first crack they'd found in Solomon's armor. It was a beginning.

Chapter 12

Deep in Germany's Black Forest, Damon sank down onto the trunk of a fallen tree. Dampness seeped through the legs of his expensive jeans, now rumpled and smeared with mud.

"I hate this," he complained, dropping his head into his hands. He was dirty and exhausted and, most of all, hungry. Thick, dark conifers rose around them, their heavy branches blocking out the sky.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Katherine glanced wearily at him without answering. Her light blond hair, usually smooth and perfect, was a tangled mess, and there was dirt on her face. Still, she was in better shape than Damon, he thought bitterly. At least she had been able to Influence people to let her feed.

They'd been fleeing across Europe for days, losing themselves in countless city crowds. Budapest, Paris, Berlin. But wherever they went, the packs of vampires had found them.

"We can't keep running," Damon said. "Maybe it's time we make a stand, choose a spot we can defend and take out as many of them as we can. We need to figure out who's behind this."

Katherine shook her head. "I don't know about you, but dying twice was enough for me. It's smarter to keep moving. We'll lose them eventually."

Damon felt a red wall of rage rising up in his mind. He was too old, too experienced, to be herded around like an animal, running from place to place in fear. Whoever was doing this, he wanted to rip them apart, feel their blood and flesh rend in his hands and between his teeth. "It would make me feel better if I killed someone," he muttered.

"Heavens." Katherine's tone was mocking. "Are you starting to regret the deal you made for little Elena? How does it go? You can't feed unless you romance them first?"

"Stop it," Damon said, suddenly feeling more tired than angry. "I'll kill whoever's behind this, that I promise you. The deal doesn't apply to vampires."

"Poor Damon," Katherine said, a new, softer tone in her voice. When Damon looked up, she was standing right in front of him, looking at him with clear blue eyes-a shade lighter than Elena's, his mind automatically categorized, but not really so different. She raised her wrist to her own mouth and bit down, opening her vein, and the forest was flooded with the rich scent of her blood. "Here, drink," she said, holding her arm out to him. Damon stared at her, and her mouth tightened in annoyance. "You can't keep going without anything to eat," she snapped. "You're a liability like this."

"Well, I'd hate to be a burden," Damon said with a shrug, taking her wrist and bringing it to his lips.

He hadn't tasted Katherine's blood since she first made him a vampire, and he was unprepared for the rush of memories it brought back to him. A delicate girl, hardly more than a child, appearing at dusk in the rooms of his father's palazzo. Her hair was a fine light gold, shining in the candlelight as she sank into a low curtsy. Her skin was so pale that he could see the fine blue tracery of her veins when she reached out for him, and her lips were cool when he lowered his head to meet them.

Damon's eyes were burning when he let go of Katherine's hand. Her pale pink lips parted in surprise, and he wondered if she, too, had just been transported back in time. His heartbeat quickened as he felt Katherine's blood running through him, warming him and bringing him strength. It wasn't as good as feeding on a human, but it would keep him going for a while.

"Thank you, darling," he said dryly.

Katherine's voice was light. "This whole situation should teach you not to make deals with Guardians. They're tricky, I hear."

Damon was opening his mouth to answer when a sound in the distance made him pause. He cocked his head to listen and heard it again: the crackle of footsteps on dry leaves, coming toward them, fast. "They've found us," he hissed.

He pulled his Power around him quickly, fiercely concentrating on the sensation of his own form dissolving and compacting. His bones thinned and reformed within him, changing shape, his fingers spreading into wings as his toes curled into claws. He had a moment to feel grateful for Katherine's blood: This was difficult to manage when he wasn't feeding regularly.

Then Damon, in the form of a crow, stretched his glossy black wings and rose past tree branches into the sky. He could feel the currents of air behind him shifting as Katherine took silent flight in the shape of a snowy owl.

They had escaped their enemies once more, for now. But Damon knew they couldn't keep going forever. Sooner or later, they would have to fight.

#TVD11KatherinetheTease

It was a warm, clear night. An almost-full moon shone overhead, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine rose up to Stefan on the balcony outside their apartment.

But Stefan wasn't here to appreciate the beauty of the evening. He sent out tendrils of his Power, questing, trying to sense whatever was out there. Why was he so weak?

Maybe Damon was right; maybe it was worth drinking human blood regularly for the strength it would give him. Stefan drank Elena's blood sometimes, and she drank his, but it was an act of love, not a feeding. He didn't take enough to make him strong. He swiped his hand across his face, irritated with himself, and tried to focus.

He couldn't sense anything. There was an Old One after Elena, who knew the loophole in her immortality and was sending humans after her. Stefan gripped the edge of the balcony and felt the metal begin to buckle beneath his hand. Conscientiously, he forced his fingers to relax. They didn't want to lose their security deposit.

Was that a footstep below, too light for human ears to hear? He froze, listening. The night was alive with a thousand sounds: insects buzzing, the soft beats of a bat's wings, the distant sound of traffic.

Again, almost right below, a footstep on the grass. Without stopping to think, Stefan launched himself over the rail, his canines lengthening as he leaped.

The warm, solid body beneath him let out a huff of surprise as he hit it, both of them slamming down on the ground. Human, he automatically classified, even as he reached for the throat.

It didn't matter. Human or not, he had to keep this person from Elena. But the realization slowed him a little, long enough for the figure underneath him to twist and kick hard at Stefan's chest. Stefan slammed him back onto the ground, baring his fangs-and then realized the person beneath him was Jack. For an instant, he didn't think he could stop. He didn't want to stop. Jack's heart was pounding, and Stefan's canines were sharp with anticipation. It would be easy.

He let go and rolled to one side. Jack lay flat on the ground, panting, one hand pressed against his chest.

"You're heavy," he said finally.

"I'm sorry." Stefan climbed to his feet and offered Jack a hand up. "I didn't realize it was you. I've been a little tense lately."

He could still hear Jack's heart beating, hard and fast, as he rose. Stefan averted his eyes from the vein at the side of Jack's neck, ignoring the thought of the rich blood rushing quickly beneath the skin. He needed to go out to the woods and feed properly, but guarding Elena was more important.

Jack brushed off his pants, which were covered with dirt. "Didn't mean to startle you. I'm just patrolling, keeping an eye out."

"I attacked too quickly," Stefan said, guilt slamming heavily into him. "I should have made sure of who you were before I jumped on you."

"Hey, don't worry about it." Jack waved a dismissive hand, although Stefan noticed he winced as he cautiously rolled his neck, checking to see if he was injured. "Guarding Elena is the important thing. Plus, I could totally take you down if I had to."

Stefan smiled dutifully at the joke, then stared out into the darkness, watching and listening. Far off, a car started up and drove in the opposite direction. There was no one else nearby that he could sense. "He's all I can think about," he said. "Solomon, I mean." Jack nodded, and Stefan went on. "We'd gotten to where the Old Ones weren't coming after Elena anymore. I was hunting them instead. I thought all this was over."

His hands curled into fists, and he felt his canines press sharp against his lips again, ready to bite. "We don't know where he is, and he's coming after Elena. I want to rip out his throat." Stefan glanced at Jack, feeling oddly ashamed at the admission.

Jack patted Stefan lightly on the shoulder. "This is normal, Stefan," he said reassuringly. "You feel this way because you're a warrior. Even though you're a vampire, you're a hunter, too. That means you're always prepared for a fight. And you have something worth fighting to protect."

Stefan looked up at the darkened windows of their apartment. Extending his Power, he could feel Elena sleeping deeply, her dreams troubled, but her breathing even. Jack was right, he thought. Elena was Stefan's to protect. She was worth fighting for.

Chapter 13

"So the patient came in complaining of chest pains, but when we hooked him up to the EKG, he told us he'd changed his mind and that the pain was in his legs." Jasmine came out of her bedroom, holding a long golden necklace around her neck. "Can you fasten this for me?"

"Uh-huh," Matt said, looking out the window at the darkening sky. He had promised to meet Elena and the others at Dalcrest at nine, so they could canvass the hills around campus before midnight, when Solomon would show to meet the humans he'd influenced.

Matt knew he should leave, but he liked it here. Jasmine's apartment was warm, filled with texture and color: handmade bowls in the kitchen, red-painted walls with heavy woven hangings in the living room, a velvety sofa. A cozy nest, far from violence and vampires and hunters.

"Matt?" Jasmine said, and the part of Matt's mind that wasn't already out the door registered that she'd said something a moment before.

"What?" he asked. Jasmine arched her brows meaningfully and wiggled the necklace a little. "Oh." Matt moved her heavy fall of hair out of the way so he could work the catch. Her skin was honey golden and very smooth, and she smelled sweet. He stroked the back of her neck, once, twice, watching the tendrils of hair fall back into place around his fingers. "Why are you getting dressed up?"

Jasmine frowned. "Because we're going out." At Matt's blank look, she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, where is your mind today? I swear, you haven't heard a thing I've said in the last hour."

Matt could feel his cheeks flushing, his ears getting hot. She was right; he hadn't been listening. "I'm really sorry," he said awkwardly. "I promised to meet Elena and Stefan tonight."

"That's okay," Jasmine said, shrugging. "I'd have liked to have you to myself, but I haven't seen them in ages." Looking at Matt's expression, her face fell and she added hesitantly. "If that's all right?"

"I'm sorry," Matt said. Her mouth trembled, and he hastened to add, "It's just, there's some stuff going on with them. They wanted to talk to me alone about it. Just this time."

"Oh." Jasmine wrapped a finger in her long curls, tugging them straight. Her mouth was still soft and hurt. "Okay, well, call me tomorrow." She said it breezily, but Matt could tell she was upset. She knew he was lying, he realized.

"I'll see you later," Matt said, his stomach tying itself in knots. He hesitated in the doorway. There was a cool wind blowing, and the full moon shone, heavy in the sky. He wanted to stay, wanted just to wrap himself up in her, in her honey skin and soft smile. Jasmine tilted her face up toward him and he kissed her gently.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said, his heart aching just a little bit.

And then he was on his way out into the night, shutting the door behind him.

"This customer's voice mailbox is full. Please try again later. Thank you," an electronic voice chirped. Elena pushed her phone's off button a little more violently than necessary.

Why hadn't Damon listened to any of her messages? He must have ignored every single one for his entire mailbox to be full.

"I'm worried about Damon," she told Stefan through the balcony doorway. He was pacing back and forth across the balcony, scowling at the tops of trees as if he could see straight through them to find someone lurking below.

"Damon's fine," he said absently.

"I don't think so," Elena said. "He's worried about something. I think he might be in danger."

Whenever she reached out to Damon through their shared connection, all she felt was a sort of grim anxiety. She closed her eyes and concentrated on their bond, but she couldn't get any clear picture, just images of forests and cities. It felt like he was running from something.

"If Bonnie were here, she could use a spell to contact him," she said, frustrated. "I wish ... I can't do anything."

Stefan finally looked up to meet Elena's gaze. His face softened, and he took the few steps across the balcony to stand before her. "Elena," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Just because Damon isn't responding to you doesn't mean something's wrong. He's always been hard to pin down. He'll get in touch in his own time."

Elena shook her head. "This time is different. I'm worried," she said.

Tilting her chin up, Stefan gazed into Elena's eyes. "I know," he said. "But with everything going on here, Damon's probably safest of all of us. And even if he is in trouble, Damon's very, very good at taking care of himself. I wish he were here, too, but only because he could help protect you from Solomon."

"I'm not helpless, Stefan," Elena said sharply.

Stefan blinked in surprise at her tone. "I never said you were," he replied. "But you're the one Solomon's after. Don't worry about Damon; worry about yourself."

"Okay," Elena said, sighing inwardly. She knew Stefan was only trying to protect her. But she'd saved people, she'd killed Klaus; surely she could hold her own against any threat.

She tried her best to push away her anxiety over Damon. Whatever was going on with him, she couldn't do anything to help him now. No matter how strongly she felt that something was wrong.

Elena's sensation of wrongness didn't go away, not even later, when they met the others on the hills overlooking campus. It was a clear night, the full moon high. Zander and his Pack were in wolf form and alert, sniffing the wind, their ears cocked for any sound. One of them, Daniel, raced around the others to greet them, his heavy tail wagging, and Zander snapped at him, herding him back into place.

Once upon a time, Elena remembered, she hadn't been able to tell any of the wolves apart-except for Zander, with his snow-white fur. Now they were as distinct to her in wolf form as they were as humans. The reddish-tinged one that was Shay yelped a short bark at oversize Jared. He pulled his lips back in a lazy laugh, cocking his black-tipped ears. Tristan sprang at Enrique, growling playfully, and toppled him to the ground, where they rolled in a mock battle. Zander yipped once and they sprang apart guiltily, joining the rest of their group as the Pack paced the hillside.

There were a couple of hours yet till midnight. If they could just figure out where Solomon would come from, they could get into position, launch an attack.

Elena shut her eyes and focused her Power, trying to force open the doors within herself that would help her track down evil. Nothing. With a huff of irritation, she opened her eyes again.

Matt was climbing up the hill toward Elena and Stefan. He carried a flashlight, which he cast over the trees and grass around them, but he didn't speak. He looked grim, his lips pressed tightly together.

Meredith and Alaric followed him, Alaric also holding a flashlight, while Meredith balanced her stave in one hand.

"Where do you think we should look?" Stefan asked, glancing at Meredith.

"If I were going to meet a bunch of brainwashed humans to get a report on their evil mission," Meredith said thoughtfully, "I'd head for a good, clear space with plenty of moonlight. He'll need light to see them, to Influence them. We could get into the tree cover near the biggest clearing and wait."

Stefan nodded. "Makes sense. The most open spot is up on top of the ridge. When Jack's team gets here, we'll head up."

Zander raised his head, his tail wagging, and a moment later, Jack and his group appeared over the crest of the hill. Jack and Roy raised their hands briefly, acknowledging Elena and the others, while Trinity shot Elena a warm smile. Darlene and Alex had their heads down, watching their step. Both carried heavy-looking bags of weapons.

"Looks like it's going to rain," Jack said in greeting when they reached them. Elena glanced up in surprise. It was true-black clouds had blocked out the moon while they talked, and the sky, clear a few moments ago, looked ominously heavy.

"That was fast," Alaric said uneasily. A cold wind blew across the hillside, lifting Elena's hair and bringing goose bumps out on her arms.

Meredith and Elena exchanged a worried glance. "Remember how Klaus could change the weather?" Elena said slowly. "Even Damon can make it storm, if he's angry enough."

Meredith swore. "Solomon knows we're here. He planned it."

"It's a trap. We need to get out of here." Stefan stepped closer to Elena, wrapping his arm around her shoulders protectively, his eyes scanning the tree cover around them. Her heart sped up. Which way could they go to escape? The dark shadows beneath the trees were suddenly menacing.

Something hit Elena's cheek, and she jumped. At almost the same moment, one of the wolves yelped. Her arm stung, hit by something sharp and heavy.

"Hail!" Alex shouted just as a burst of lightning cracked across the sky. Thunder rumbled, and the wind picked up, whipping stinging shards of hail into their faces.

Stefan was trying to shout something above the roar of the wind, and Elena huddled closer to him, shielding her head from the hail. "What?" she yelled back.

"Let's go!" he shouted. The hail was coming down faster now, ripping into the ground. Stefan swung Elena into his arms and began to run at top vampire speed for the cover of the trees, wolves and hunters on his tail. Elena peered over Stefan's shoulder to see Matt and Alaric bringing up the rear, their flashlight beams swinging wildly.

There was a flash of bright light all around them and thunder cracked again, closer this time. Stefan backpedaled, Meredith and Jack flinching back just as a tree fell in flames right in front of them. Elena felt the searing heat of the flames on her cheeks, close enough that her hair sizzled. Behind them, another deafening crash resounded as lightning hit and flames rose up, blocking their retreat.

They were all trapped.

Stefan's arms tightened around Elena. Bright ashes were blowing everywhere, setting the grass around them ablaze. She blinked the smoke out of her eyes and tried to see.

Trinity was shouting something, but Elena couldn't hear her over the crackle of the flames. With a grimace, the brown-haired girl pulled some sort of long scythe from the case on her shoulder. As they watched, she began to gouge the ground, tearing up a long strip of sod.

Meredith stared at her for a second, and then began to imitate her, using the sharp edges at the end of her stave to dig a trench.

They're getting rid of the grass so the fire can't get any closer, Elena realized. She struggled out of Stefan's arms and began to pull and yank at the grass as the rest of the hunters lowered their weapons to dig at the ground, making a firebreak. The wolves whined anxiously around them and one-Tristan, Elena thought, squinting through the smoke-gave a low, unhappy howl. She bent her head back down, pulling at the grass.

Hot ash scorched their skin, but soon they had carved out a fireproofed circle of black dirt around them. They stood in a tight group at the center of the firebreak, the wolves on the outer rim, growling at the flames as if they could scare them into submission. A spark flew to land on Meredith's cheek, and she batted it off, wincing with pain. This isn't going to work, Elena realized, her heart sinking. They were still trapped, and Solomon's Power seemed limitless.

But as if the fire were losing interest in them, the flames began to die down, and the storm faded. "He's playing games," she told Stefan, as soon as the smoke had cleared enough for her to speak. "He could have killed us, but he's not trying, not yet. He wants us to be afraid of him."

"I know," Stefan said tightly. He looked down at her, his mouth a narrow line and his green eyes dark with worry. "I'm afraid of what's going to happen when he does try."

"I'm the one he wants," Elena said miserably. "You're all in danger because of me."

Dark steam was still rising from the ground around them. The stench of burning was everywhere.

But the fire was out, and the clouds were clearing. Looking up, Elena saw that the moon shone peacefully overhead once more. If not for the damage that had been done to her friends-Jared's fur was ragged and scorched, burned right off in a couple of places, and a long red burn was rising on Darlene's cheek-she could almost believe she'd imagined the whole thing.

Matt coughed, a deep, rattling cough, and waved the smoke away.

"We know he's somewhere," Jack exclaimed, his face smudged with soot. "He's in the area. Even he doesn't have enough Power to do this from too far away. It's the best lead we've ever had, because he's not going to leave-" He broke off.

"Until I'm dead," Elena finished, her voice flat.

Jack winced, looking apologetic.

"We will not use Elena as bait," Stefan said coldly. "Our first priority is keeping her safe."

"But I won't be safe until we find Solomon," Elena told him, guilt stabbing through her chest. Everyone was risking their lives for her, and so far she hadn't been able to do anything to help, despite all her Power. "Look, I haven't been much use in tracking him. I think we should call in Andres. Maybe he can help."

Just thinking of Andres made Elena feel better. He'd taught her how to access and control her Power, but more than that, he was her friend. Andres was wise. He understood Elena, and his Guardian Power, while different from her own, was equally strong.

"We can do this," she told the others, looking at the dying flames all around them. "We're not going to give up until we find Solomon, and kill him."

Chapter 14

The flames burned fiercely, yellow and orange with a flash of cold azure at the base. Frowning with concentration, Bonnie refused to be pulled into their hypnotic patterns. She clutched her falcon charm tight in one hand and breathed deeply, calling upon the stone's properties.

The charm Damon had given her was made of blue lace agate, which contained the properties of tranquility, and balance between mind, body, and spirit. This balance allowed Bonnie to access more Power than she'd ever dreamed of.

The falcon was cool in her palm, the sharp points of its beak and claws almost painful as she clutched it, yet somehow the little sharp pricks were reassuring. Bonnie could feel her own energy flowing into the stone and then circling back to her, calmer and steadier. After a few moments, she turned this Power outward to the flames, as easily as flipping a switch.

The flames flickered once and then went out.

Bonnie's new friends burst into applause and came up to congratulate her. Poppy squeezed her shoulders in a side hug, while Rick thumped her enthusiastically on the back. Marilise, always more reticent, hung back, but the smile on her face was one of pure delight. Bonnie smiled back at her proudly.

"Bonnie, that was amazing!" Alysia was grinning so widely that her freckles flowed together in little islands of brown across her cheeks. "I can't believe how far you've come in such a short time!"

Bonnie really couldn't believe it either. Finding her working stone had been a big step. The fact that it had come from the necklace Damon had sent her for her birthday couldn't be a coincidence. Sometimes he knew things about her; she was sure of it.

During the short time she had been with this group, she'd learned so much. Rick had turned out to know more about astrology and the influence of the stars and planets than anyone Bonnie had ever met. Marilise grew her own herbs at her cottage in North Carolina and had, in her gentle, quiet way, shown Bonnie helpful new ways of using them. And Poppy could see the future in crystal balls and cards-with more control than Bonnie had ever had over her own visions.

Tonight they, and all the other groups, had gotten a chance to demonstrate their new skills to everyone else.

Now Bonnie, full of gratitude, pulled Alysia into a spontaneous hug. "Thank you," she said. "If you hadn't talked me into coming here, I never could have done that. Every day, I can feel myself getting stronger and stronger."

Alysia's grin spread even wider, and she squeezed Bonnie back affectionately. "I'm glad you're here. You're making me look good." She stuck out her tongue playfully at an older man on the other side of the room, and he threw back his head and laughed. There was a core group of five who had organized the retreat, and each was in charge of mentoring a group of recruits. Alysia had said there was a friendly rivalry among the core group as to whose proteges would learn the most.

Bonnie glanced around the massive apartment, which had seemed so frightening at first but was now almost cozy, full of magic. It took up three floors of the building, complete with balconies and a roof deck. It felt like an expensive, grown-up version of a college dorm, Bonnie thought, communal and built for temporary living rather than someone's home.

"And now for the feast!" Alysia exclaimed, leading Bonnie to the dining room as the others followed. "It's a celebration," she explained. "So we threw together something special."

A wall of windows covered one wall of the dining room, looking out over the car headlights tracing a river of light far below. Alysia had created one of her beautiful illusions-pale flower petals falling ceaselessly from the ceiling, disappearing before they hit the floor.

The long table in the center of the room was heaped with food: a hodgepodge of everyone's favorites, from roast chicken to curry to peanut brittle to a bright pile of stir-fried vegetables. "Yum," Bonnie said and took a seat. "It's like a magic menu."

"I wish," Alysia said, rolling her eyes. "We were working on this all afternoon."

Bonnie was reaching for a platter of pork chops when her phone rang. Zander. "Oh, I need to take this. I'll be right back," she said, excusing herself and slipping out of the dining room.

"Hey," she answered, once she was alone back in the mosaic-floored living room where she had first met her team. "How's it going? I miss you."

"Sure you do." Zander's voice sounded rougher than usual, tired, but she could hear the smile in it. "That's because I'm awesome."

"Modest, too," Bonnie told him. She wandered over to a window and looked out at the streets far below. "How are things there?" Zander didn't say anything for a moment, and Bonnie tensed. "What's going on?"

"I'm thinking," Zander said. "How's witch camp?"

"Witch camp is fantastic. Soon I will be the queen of all witches. Seriously, I'm getting really strong." She wanted to go into more detail, tell Zander all the amazing things she was learning to do, but she didn't like the way he had paused when she asked him what was going on back home. His voice wasn't quite right-he sounded worried. She used her firmest tone. "What do you mean you're thinking? Give me a straight answer. Is everything okay?"

Zander sighed. "The Old One-Solomon-is getting closer. He's sent compelled humans after us. And he killed Elena's cat. Last night, we thought we had him, but we just stumbled into a trap." He paused. "He drew lighting and fire down around us."

Bonnie stiffened, feeling the blood drain out of her cheeks. Fire was one thing that the Pack couldn't fight. "I'm coming home," she said.

"No."

"You need me." She was already crossing the living room, heading for the stairs that would lead to her bedroom. She could pack and be at the airport in an hour, catch the next flight to Richmond or Washington, D.C. ... "You'll pick me up at the airport, right?"

"Bonnie, stop," Zander insisted. "Listen to me."

"I have to be there!"

"We can handle it!" Zander said loudly, and Bonnie stopped in her tracks.

"If you're in danger-"

"We've got the Pack," Zander interrupted. "We've got hunters; we've got Stefan. We've got Elena, and she's bringing her other Guardian friend out. Solomon's tough, but there's a whole superhero alliance here."

Bonnie felt like her heart was being squeezed. "You don't need me?" she said in a tiny voice.

"Of course we need you," Zander said, his voice warm and reassuring. "I need you. Even when you're not here, you're helping protect us. We're all using the charms and everything you left. But right now, you need to stay there, keep working on your own stuff. You'll be stronger than ever when you come back, and then you'll fix whatever we haven't taken care of yet. Trust me and the Pack and the others for now, okay?"

Wavering, Bonnie closed her eyes for a moment. Her friends were in danger.

But it was true that she needed to be stronger if she was really going to be useful. The agate falcon rested cool against her collarbone-it never seemed to get warm-and she tried to take comfort in its calming properties.

"Trust us," Zander said again. "We want you back, but not till you're ready. Believe me, I miss you like crazy, but it'll all be okay. We'll hold down the fort."

"Okay." Bonnie bit her lip. "I'm going to learn everything that might help us, and then I'm on the first plane back."

I hope I'm doing the right thing, she thought.

Chapter 15

Stefan stared at the row of small white bottles on the drugstore shelf and looked at Elena's list again. Moisturizer, he read. It seemed like that ought to be simple, but there were fifteen different brands lined up in front of him, divided into different categories: revitalizing, he read, and tone correcting, and age defying.

Age defying? Stefan shook his head. Elena was going to look eighteen forever; surely that wasn't the one she wanted.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket, hoping it wasn't Elena with more additions to the shopping list.

Damon, said the display.

A bubble of relief rose up in Stefan's chest. He'd been positive that Damon was fine and would get back in touch when he was ready, and he'd been right. But it was nice to have it confirmed.

"Elena's been worried about you," Stefan said in greeting when he answered the phone.

"I guess the Guardians' bond is still good, then. Nice to know they do quality work," Damon answered. His voice sounded tired, rougher than Stefan was used to hearing it, and very far away.

"Damon?" Stefan asked, gripping the phone. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

There was a shifting, as if Damon was looking around. "Let's see," he said. "Casinos. Sunshine. Yachts. Monaco. Not for long, though, I'm afraid."

"What's going on?" Stefan asked, grabbing a bottle of moisturizer at random and tossing it into his basket. There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and he shifted the phone to his other ear. "Are you there?"

Damon sighed. "There's something after Katherine and me," he said, sounding a little embarrassed. "Wherever we go, packs of vampires come after us. I wanted to know if you had any idea who they are or what's going on. They're strong, and there are a lot of them. It's nothing we can't handle," Damon added quickly. "But it's getting tiresome."

"That sounds strange," Stefan began, worried, and then something Damon had said finally clicked. "Wait-you're traveling with Katherine?" he asked sharply. "Is she hunting for you?" Trust Damon to find a way around the rules the Guardians gave him, he thought. And Katherine, of all people: After everything she'd done, how could Damon trust her?

"You think I'm cheating?" Damon asked, his voice flattening dangerously. "You should know better than anyone, I always keep my word." There was a long pause, and Stefan kneaded the bridge of his nose between two fingers, feeling guilty. He always assumed the worst of Damon, but that wasn't fair.

Damon sighed again, wearily. "I didn't call to fight, little brother," he said. "I just want to know if you have any idea what's going on."

"Right. Sorry. I don't want to fight either. I know you're not hunting," Stefan apologized. It was true: Damon wouldn't take an unwilling victim, not with Elena so linked to him that she'd be able to tell. "Well, I don't know if this is related, but there's another Old One here in town. Solomon. And he's after Elena."

"After Elena?" Damon's voice got sharper, focused. A woman said something behind him-Katherine, Stefan realized-and he replied, his voice muffled, then came back on the line. "Is Elena in danger?"

"It'll be okay. I've hunted a lot of Old Ones since you left. And you know how strong Elena is," Stefan said. There was no point in making Damon worry; he couldn't do anything more than the rest of them could. Which seemed to be nothing at this point. "Andres just got here to help us track Solomon down."

"And then bing, boom, you'll take him out," Damon said lightly. "Nice to know you've got things under control. I don't see how this could be related, though. The vampires coming after us aren't Old Ones. If anything, they feel ... new."

"New like newly made?" Stefan said. "You should be able to handle them easily, then."

Damon laughed a short, dry laugh. "You'd think so," he said. "No, it's not that they feel newly made, exactly, they're just ... different, I suppose."

"You're not making a lot of sense, Damon," Stefan told him. The drugstore was almost empty, but the elderly cashier was peering at him from the other end of the aisle, her eyebrows raised. Stefan turned away from her, hunching his shoulders. He needed to keep his voice down. That was the problem with small towns: Someone was always watching you.

"When you've dealt with your little problem there, why don't you come out here?" Damon said. There was an artificial lightness to his voice as he added, "Come on, Stefan. It'll be fun. A little gambling, a little sailing, a little vampire killing. When was the last time you were in Monaco?"

"I can't," Stefan said automatically. "I need to be here to protect Elena."

There was another long pause, and Damon said, grimly, "I thought you said she was fine."

"She is, but ..." Stefan could hear his own voice rising in irritation, and he stopped himself. Damon was his brother, and he'd saved Stefan's life more than once.

And he knew that, if Damon suspected how bad things were, he would come rushing back to fight on their side. He was better off out of it.

"I'm sorry," Stefan said, his voice gentle. "Elena will be fine. And I know you and Katherine will survive. You always do."

"I hope so," Damon said. "But it sounds like you've made your choice, anyway." The line went dead. Stefan stared down at the phone in his hand for a moment, wondering if he should call Damon back. The cashier down at the end of the store was still watching him. He tucked the phone back into his pocket.

Damon's tone had been bitter at the end, and Stefan felt bad about it, he really did. His brother had called to ask him for help, something he rarely did, and Stefan had turned him down. Guilt ran sharp through his veins. He couldn't worry about Damon, he reminded himself. Damon would be fine. It was Elena who mattered.

"Marisol's amazing," Andres said happily. "We've been doing research in the rain forest, classifying plants no one knew about before, and we both love it. The life force there is so wonderful; even though she's not a Guardian, I think she feels it as much as I do."

Elena watched Andres's smile light up his face, his warm brown eyes shine. She remembered how much sorrow he'd carried with him when they first met, after the death of the man who'd raised him. It was good to see the joy shining through him now.

"I'm so happy for you," she said, squeezing her friend's hand. "Have you told her you're a Guardian?"

"Of course." Andres sounded surprised. "How could we love each other if she didn't know the truth about me?"

Elena thought of Matt's insistence on keeping the supernatural hidden from Jasmine, and shook her head. "I don't think you could, not forever," she agreed, feeling a pang of sorrow for Matt.

Stefan's key rattled in the lock, and Elena and Andres looked up, smiling in welcome. Stefan smiled back automatically, his eyes searching out Elena's as they always did. As he leaned over to kiss her hello, Elena noticed tight lines of tension around his mouth.

"Did something happen?" she asked.

"I talked to Damon," Stefan told her.

"You did?" Relief flooded through Elena, mixed with a slightly miffed feeling: Damon had called Stefan, but not her? After all the messages she had left him? "Is he okay? Where is he?"

"He's fine," Stefan said. "He's in Monaco."

Monaco. Glamorous, full of life. Sounded like Damon. But then, why the angry, anxious emotions that had streamed-were still streaming-through the connection between them? "Did he get my messages?" she asked hesitantly. "And the e-mails?"

"He didn't say," Stefan told her. "We didn't talk for very long."

Elena frowned. "Well, why-" But Stefan was avoiding her eyes, his face closed off tightly. There was something he didn't want to tell her. Elena bit her lip. Maybe she should let it rest for now. "I'm glad he's all right, anyway," she said. "And wait till you hear what we figured out."

Andres cleared his throat and broke into a grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "We were talking over the situation," he said, "and I thought of something that may help. Once, back when I first came into my Powers, I needed to trace an animal spirit who had been making trouble in town. The problem was, no one knew who the spirit was: She could have taken any kind of human disguise. My mentor, Javier, and I worked together and I learned how to do, er ..." He waved his hand impatiently, looking for the words. "I guess you'd call it a vision spell? I was able to channel my Power through something we knew the spirit had seen in the past and find my way back to what she was seeing in the present."

"I'm not sure I understand," Stefan said.

Elena bounced on her heels, tugging at his sleeve in her excitement. "If we find something that we know Solomon has looked at, Andres might be able to see what Solomon's looking at now!" she exclaimed. "We could figure out where he's hiding!"

"But we don't know what he's seen," Stefan said, frowning. "The things that happened here, with Sammy and my stave, he must have compelled humans to do."

"The ice?" Elena wondered. "He wasn't there, but he must have seen it somehow, right? Could we use the windows, or the bed ...?"

Andres was shaking his head. "I think it has to be something more specific," he said. "Something Solomon actually laid eyes on, rather than controlling from a distance. And something recent, so a lot of people haven't seen it since he did. Too many people have been in and out of this apartment since then."

There was a baffled silence as they all thought.

"The car accident," Stefan said suddenly. Andres and Elena stared at him, and then Elena began to smile.

"Of course," she said. "He would have watched, wouldn't he? That open road, surrounded by tree cover. It would have been easy for him." She got up and disappeared into the bedroom. "I haven't worn this shirt since that day," she said, coming out with a white shirt in one hand. "I washed out as much of the blood as I could, but it still needs to be dry-cleaned."

Andres took it from her, turning the soft fabric over in his hands. "I'll try," he said. "Help me. The more Power we can put into this, the better." Elena took his hand and they both closed their eyes. For several moments, the only sound in the room was their breathing, deep and slow and in time with each other. Stefan held perfectly still.

Elena's blue eyes and Andres's brown ones flew open at the same moment.

"Shining metal," Andres said. "A young girl, fighting a tall dark-haired man. No, they're working out, very formal movements. A big open room."

"That's what Jack's seeing, not Solomon," Elena said instantly. "Jack saw me in that shirt, too. He must be training with his team."

"Okay, yes." Andres's eyes were tracking back and forth rapidly, but Elena was sure he wasn't seeing the room they were in. "A library. Wooden tables, books. Oh, this one feels familiar. Meredith." He swallowed and tried again, his eyes moving faster. "Oh! I'm seeing through Stefan's eyes now." His gaze focused for a moment, snapping out of the trance. "That was curious, seeing myself from outside."

"Try again," Elena said. "Push past the people you recognize if you can. I think, other than Jack, Solomon would be the only stranger."

"Okay." They closed their eyes and breathed together for a moment, then began again. This time Andres didn't speak immediately, his eyes moving more slowly back and forth, as if he was looking hard for something. There was a silence.

Elena was frowning, still holding tightly to Andres hand, but her gaze shifted to meet Stefan's. "The apple men," she said slowly. "The ones who attacked us. They said something about Solomon having yellow eyes."

The fact had gotten lost in everyone's excitement over the supposed clue to where Solomon was going to be, but that was a clue, too, wasn't it? The idea of yellow eyes teased at the back of her mind, reminding her of something, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Does knowing he has yellow eyes help, Andres?" Stefan asked quietly.

Andres didn't answer, but his eyes moved a little faster. When he spoke, he sounded breathless. "A big room," he said. "Wainscoting, paneling. I can see a formal garden through the windows." He frowned. "There's a woman. No, a mannequin. In a long dress, blue, with a full skirt. A large fireplace."

Stefan looked baffled. "An old mansion?" he asked doubtfully. "Something at the college, maybe?"

But Elena knew. "The Plantation Museum," she gasped. "Down near the river. It's got to be."

Spontaneously, she hugged Andres, then jumped to her feet and hurled herself into Stefan's arms. "We can do it," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "We've finally got him."

Stefan nodded and held her close for a second. His arms were strong around her, and, when he kissed her, soft and sweet, she felt a flash of how he wanted to protect her, hold her here forever safe in his arms.

Finally he let go and headed for the closet where they kept his weapons. "Call the others," he said. "We should attack tonight."

Chapter 16

Meredith felt as tense as the string of a bow, taut and ready to fire. "And I have a crossbow," she muttered to herself, "so that's convenient."

The weapon was smooth and reassuringly heavy in her hand, and she had her hunter's stave strapped to her back. When she got close enough for the stave to be useful, she would drop the bow.

The sun was setting, its last long rays coloring the horizon. Meredith, Alaric, and Stefan were coming up on the east side of the Plantation Museum, concealed behind the remnants of what had once been slave cabins. Jack's team, Matt, and the Pack would be circling around the house, ready to approach from any angle.

Her earpiece crackled to life as Jack's voice said, "In position," and Trinity answered "In position."

"In position," Meredith repeated. Alaric glanced over as he pulled out a crossbow of his own and headed farther into the garden: As the least powerful fighters, he and Matt were supposed to stick to the long-range weapons, keeping their distance from Solomon and whoever was in the house with him. Andres would hang back, too, wielding his Guardian Powers if he could.

Stefan slipped away from them around the side of the cabins. A minute later, his voice chimed in. "In position."

The earpieces belonged to Jack's team, another clever tool from their arsenal. Meredith couldn't believe she had never thought of using them before. It allowed them all-except for the Pack, who were in wolf form right now-to coordinate their attack from all over the museum and its grounds, fully aware of what everyone else was doing. And the Pack had their own forms of communication, could fight as a unit with no need for speech.

They were all here, and ready. Everyone but Elena. It felt weird to go into a fight without Elena, but Stefan had insisted: Solomon wanted Elena dead, and she would stay as far from him as possible. Elena had argued, but finally had agreed to go to the movies; Solomon wouldn't come after her in the middle of a crowded theater. Or so they all hoped.

Elena's lethal blood was with them, though. A thin coat, mixed with water, had been applied to the killing edge of every weapon they carried, and filled the tiny hypodermics in the ends of Meredith's special hunter's stave. Meredith only hoped there would be enough to do the job.

The sun sank below the horizon, and the dim security lamps around the museum snapped on. Meredith tested her bowstring and fitted an arrow carefully into place.

At first she'd instinctively objected to the idea of coming after a vampire at night. But the Plantation Museum was full of visitors and workers during the day, and none of them were willing to endanger innocent people if they could possibly help it.

Now Andres just had to use his Power, strengthened by the life force of the plants in the garden, to sense if Solomon was still seeing the museum, and they could begin. Meredith's earpiece crackled again, and Andres's voice came through, hushed and excited. "He's here. Solomon's inside the house. He's facing a wall, so I can't tell which floor he's on."

Meredith adjusted her grip on her crossbow and slipped forward. The night was silent, almost as if she were alone, but she knew that all around her the others were coming forward, tightening around Solomon's hiding place like a noose.

A shadowy figure crossed in front of the mansion-a guard, Meredith realized, and she glanced to her right. One of the wolves was already skulking through the bushes toward the figure. He raised his head and looked back at her, cocking his ears forward in a prearranged signal. A vampire, not a compelled human.

Without hesitating, Meredith aimed the crossbow and fired. There was a soft thwack as the bolt found its mark. The vampire fell with a thud. Meredith hurried across the open lawn, staying low, the wolf keeping pace beside her.

She knelt to check the vampire and found the bolt had gone through his heart. The wolf-Daniel, she now realized-sniffed cautiously at the wound and then looked up at Meredith, giving her a single tail wag of approval.

"Guard down. Ready," she said softly, touching her earpiece. In a single movement, she dropped the crossbow, took her stave from its sheath. The others were heading through windows and side doors. Meredith rested her hand for a moment on the rough gray fur of Daniel's back for reassurance; then together they slipped through the museum's front entrance.

By the door stood a hoopskirted mannequin, its blank face framed by a full curled wig, meant to represent the lady of the house back in the old plantation days. It filled so much space that it took Meredith a moment to realize there was a person at the admissions desk behind it.

She hesitated for a second too long. The tall, elegant blonde behind the desk looked natural there, like any museum docent-except for the fangs that she bared at them. Another vampire of Solomon's. She started to lunge at Meredith, and Meredith ducked quickly, raising her stave, knowing she was too late, that her split second of delay would prove fatal.

Then there was a crash of shattering glass as, faster than any human could move, Stefan hurtled through the window, grabbing the woman and swinging her around. He snapped her neck in a single, clean motion. Meredith moved forward to stake the woman in the heart, her movements perfectly matched to Stefan's, as they always were.

"Thanks," she said, when she'd caught her breath. He nodded in response, turning toward the hall. Meredith turned with him, raising her stave in anticipation.

They could hear the others all over the mansion, glass shattering and the sound of blows. A wolf snarl came from a room farther down. Daniel tensed and slipped quietly past them, the fur on his shoulders bristling. Footsteps thudded down the stairs.

Stefan stood a little in front of her, his whole body tense and ready, his teeth bared. He held his machete easily in one hand. He looked like something primal and wild, Meredith thought fleetingly, like a warrior out of prehistory.

And then Solomon's minions burst through the door.

Meredith didn't think after that, just slid smoothly into battle, kicking and leaping and twisting as her hunter instincts commanded, her stave slicing through the air. A dark-haired vampire girl lunged for her throat, and Meredith stabbed her smoothly through the heart.

She was aware of Stefan working fluidly next to her, their blows and parries complementing each other's instinctively. They turned together, cutting the heads neatly off a pair of vampires. Blood geysered up from the vampires' throats, splattering the walls, and the bodies fell to the floor with a thud.

Then the room was empty, except for the four vampire corpses, lying on a floor slick with blood. Meredith and Stefan finally turned to look at each other, breathing heavily.

They could hear the sounds of the battle still going on throughout the lower floor of the mansion-a muffled cry, the angry clang of metal weapons colliding, the sharp barks of the Pack. Nodding at Stefan, Meredith raised her stave once more, and they went forward together into the fight.

They moved swiftly and silently through the museum. A vampire came toward Meredith and she sidestepped his blow, sweeping his feet out from under him with one kick. Before the vampire could hit the floor, Stefan had torn off his head.

It's like a dance, Meredith thought, half-dazed. Something about the smooth interplay between her and Stefan, the sweep of their weapons and the strikes of their limbs, worked like the best dancing couples. They didn't need to speak; she could sense his movements almost before they happened.

Three vampires raced across the hall in front of them, Darlene in hot pursuit as she pulled the trigger of her flamethrower. A jet of fire caught one of the vampires, and he gave a high, terrified scream as he burned.

Alex was halfway up the stairs, three vampires surrounding him, but he had a fierce grin on his face and an actual broadsword in his hand-even in the midst of battle, Meredith couldn't help being amazed by that-moving so quickly it was barely more than a blur of metal.

They passed a roped-off living room, where Tristan was tearing the throat out of a vampire, the fur of his muzzle matted with gore.

There was no sign of a vampire with yellow eyes.

At last, Meredith and Stefan came to a deserted dining room laid as if for a holiday feast. Silver and crystal sparkled, and a fake suckling pig, shiny with varnish, took pride of place on the table. This was the first room Meredith had come to where the walls were not spattered with blood, the hand-blocked wallpaper cleanly traced with Victorian vines and blossoms.

Stefan tensed, hearing a sound Meredith couldn't make out, and whipped around toward the door-but it was only Jack and Trinity, blood-spattered though seemingly uninjured. Zander and Shay, wolf-formed, padded in through a door at the other end of the room. They were bloody, too, and Zander was limping, but their tails were high with triumph.

"We've been through the rooms upstairs, but we didn't find any sign of Solomon," Jack said, scrubbing a hand over his tired face and smearing more blood across his cheek. "I think we have to face that he's disappeared again. Even though Andres thought he was here."

Trinity leaned back against the wall, her usually cheerful face glum. "Maybe it was a trick all along," she said. "He likes to tease us. Finding him like this seemed too easy."

Meredith's shoulders slumped. Had they really fought so hard, for nothing? Stefan was gripping the machete so tightly his knuckles were white with strain.

"No," he said, almost choking on his rage. "It's not acceptable. We have to end this."

"Maybe we do," a light, cultivated voice interrupted from the doorway. Meredith tried to turn, tried to raise her stave, but she suddenly found that she couldn't move.

Slow, deliberate footsteps crossed the floor behind her. The room had become very cold.

There was a rush of Power, and Zander slammed back against the wall, his paws scrabbling helplessly, long claws scraping against the floor. The Power flung Shay through the window, the glass shattering as her thick-furred body slammed through it.

As frost began to form in Meredith's hair, Solomon finally stepped into her field of vision. He was good-looking in a harsh way, tall, all lean muscles and graceful, purposeful movement, dressed simply in jeans and a shirt. Tawny hair fell to the nape of his neck, and his features were sharply cut. He could have passed for a human on the street.

He glanced at Meredith as he passed, and she slammed backward as if she'd been shoved, her head banging hard against the wall, her teeth jarring with the impact.

"Stefan." Solomon stopped to peer into the younger vampire's face. He sounded amused. "I thought you'd find me." He raised a hand and touched Stefan's face gently. Blood began to run from Stefan's nose, coating his chin and running down his neck. Solomon watched him for a few moments, then made a soft, discontented sound and turned away.

A moment later, he was gazing into Meredith's face. His eyes were almost golden, she saw, and bright with malice. "Meredith," Solomon said, as if he knew her. "I've been looking forward to meeting you." He watched her carefully, and she felt herself growing colder and colder. Something tightened inside her head with a sharp snap, and a hot stream ran down her face-blood, she realized, like Stefan. "Oh, no," he said, sighing, and made a wry face. "A pity." He moved on to Trinity and Jack, across the room. The painful tightness in Meredith's head eased a little but didn't end.

Trinity looked as if she'd been caught about to speak, her mouth partially open. She was as still as a mannequin. Beside her, the window was silvered with frost. Meredith was freezing.

"Jack!" Solomon peered delightedly into the hunter's face. "You've been looking for me for a long time, haven't you?" Meredith wondered what the Old One was doing, why he was toying with them. She was reminded of making rounds at her wedding reception: greeting everyone, making small talk.

She couldn't see Solomon's face, but she figured he was doing to Jack whatever it was he'd done to her and Stefan, expected to see Jack's face running with blood. Instead she heard Solomon chuckle, a sudden, surprised sound. "Oh," he said. "No, you won't do at all."

Solomon moved on again, and Meredith could see that Jack wasn't bleeding after all. There was a thin coating of frost on him, though, and his eyes looked furious.

"Hello, Trinity," Solomon said, and there was a new note in his voice, almost ... thoughtful. His hand traced over Trinity's shoulder, long fingers running across her collarbone. "You're strong. And tall, I like tall. Maybe you're worth my time." The cold in the room intensified sharply, and Meredith felt as if her skin, unable to shiver, might crack like the glass of Elena's windows.

"Maybe," Solomon said again, sounding pleased. Meredith couldn't see what he was doing to Trinity-his body was blocking her view of his hands, but they were on Trinity's face. Then he stepped back and Meredith had a moment to feel relief: The girl was unchanged, her mouth still frozen in shock.

But as Meredith watched in horror, a thin tendril of blood began to run from Trinity's open mouth, tracing over her chin and onto the floor. A moment later, blood was running from her nose, dripping like tears from her eyes. So much blood, much more than had come from Stefan or Meredith. Solomon cocked his head, watching Trinity closely, his tongue running across his lips. Her hair matted as blood began to run from her ears.

"Pretty," Solomon said, his voice a warm purr. "I like this one."

No, no, no, Meredith thought frantically. I have to do something! The blood was freezing on Trinity's face, her nostrils caking with dark red ice. She was still motionless, but now there was the faintest choking noise coming from her. Solomon leaned forward, intent. Help! Meredith thought, still unable to move.

Near the window, something shifted.

Meredith stared as one of the vines in the wallpaper twisted, lengthening across the wall. Was she going crazy? Suddenly the wallpaper was writhing with vines, the flowers expanding as the tendrils reached the carpet and continued to spread.

And the room was getting warmer. The blood on Trinity's face was thawing and beginning to flow again.

Andres, she thought. It must be Andres. He had Power over life and growing things; this warmth and motion must come from him.

Solomon, focused on Trinity, didn't seem to notice the wallpaper. A single vine ran across the table, nudging the fake suckling pig with a scraping noise, and Meredith held her breath. Whatever was happening, they needed Solomon unaware.

Wait a second, she realized-she held her breath. However Solomon had frozen her in place, taken her power over her own body, his Influence was fading. Carefully, she flexed her muscles, and her fingers tightened slowly on her stave. She couldn't move her arms, not yet, but she blinked and shifted her gaze to Stefan. He had straightened and was glaring at Solomon, his whole body tensed.

A vine wrapped itself around Solomon's ankle. With a grunt, he pulled away, his concentration on Trinity broken. Another, thicker vine whipped itself around his waist, and he snarled, tearing it off.

In that moment, Stefan struck. He leaped forward and swung his machete high overhead, its blade coated in Elena's blood, slamming it down to slice cleanly through Solomon's skull and torso.

For one moment, Solomon held together, a line of blood running straight down from his forehead to his waist. Then, with a sickening squelch, his body fell in two clean pieces onto the floor.

Everything was very quiet.

Solomon's control over her broke with a sudden snap. Shuddering, Meredith took a long, shaky gasp of air, and everything came back into focus.

Stefan was breathing hard, his eyes wide and dark, his canines extended. Meredith hurried to his side and began kicking the sections of Solomon's body apart, just in case he had some regenerative Power. "We did it," she started to say, "we-" But she broke off as Trinity collapsed behind her, her body shaking in sudden and terrifying convulsions.

Jack rushed to kneel beside his fellow hunter. "She's still bleeding," he said urgently, his hands moving carefully over her.

The doors at both ends of the dining room slammed open as the others started to spill in. "We were frozen in that parlor upstairs," Darlene explained, then gasped, seeing Trinity. "Oh my God!" She ran to kneel on the girl's other side. Alex and Roy followed, their faces shocked. Shay scrambled back through the window, girl formed again and swearing, her face and arms dotted with tiny cuts.

There was a pounding of boots in the hall, and Matt pushed his way through a crowd of werewolves, dangling a crossbow from one hand and pulling Andres with the other. "Andres did it," he announced. "He just pulled the life force out of that garden and sent it racing through here. The whole picture of what was going on was hanging before us like some kind of vision or something. I've never seen anything like it." Andres nodded, looking drained but triumphant.

The smiles dropped off both their faces as they saw Trinity's body, now terribly still, lying surrounded by her friends. "Is she ...?" Matt asked, a quaver in his voice.

Zander rose to his feet, changing from wolf to man in one motion. "We have to get her to a hospital," he said, nodding to his Pack. "Jared, Dan, find something you can use as a stretcher." The two nodded and began to rise, but Jack stepped forward, shaking his head firmly.

"Stop," he said. "We can't take her to a hospital like this. I don't think it'll help. Whatever Solomon did to her, they can't fix. And those are impossible injuries. There will be too many questions." He and Zander stared at each other, both steely with determination.

"We can't let her die," Roy protested, a note of desperation in his voice.

"No one's going to die," Stefan said quietly. There was blood running through his hair and spattered across his face from the death blow he'd dealt Solomon, but his voice was so full of authority that both Jack and Zander, each a leader in his own right, turned to listen. "We'll take her to my apartment." He swiftly bit at his wrist and held it to Trinity's slack mouth, rubbing her throat with his other hand to force the unconscious girl to swallow. "My blood will help for now. I just hope it's enough."

Zander and Jack both nodded. At the gesture, Daniel and Jared went and cleared the dining table, taking the cloth to put carefully under Trinity. The girl moaned in pain, her head turning restlessly from one side to the other as they tried to shift her, her eyes moving frantically beneath their lids. Meredith wasn't sure whether it was a good or bad sign that Trinity didn't wake up.

She made her way through the crowd of hunters and werewolves over to Matt and Andres. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly. Matt was frowning, his gaze on Trinity but his eyes distant, as if he was thinking hard. Andres leaned against him, looking shaky and disoriented.

"Yeah," Matt said, blinking. "Yeah, I'm fine. I have to go do something, though. Can you help Andres? Using that much Power took a lot out of him. He can barely stand." Carefully, he shifted Andres's weight onto Meredith's shoulder.

The Guardian was heavier than she would have guessed. He was practically asleep, dead weight against her. Matt gave her a brief, distracted smile, then slid through the crowd and was gone.

"All right there, Andres?" Meredith asked, nudging him into an easier position and slipping her arm around him. "What does Matt think he's doing, taking off now?"

She wasn't really expecting an answer, but Andres smiled at her. "Matt has been wrestling with his conscience," he murmured. "He's between a rock and a hard place, as I think the expression goes ..."

Meredith tightened her grip on him. "What do you mean?" But the Guardian only hmmed softly, his gaze foggy with exhaustion. His thick black lashes fluttered against the shadows beneath his eyes.

They were ready to move Trinity now, the werewolves carrying her carefully, Jack and Stefan keeping pace beside her makeshift stretcher. Jack was holding Trinity's hand. As they left, he cast a swift glance over the room. "Can you take care of this place?" he asked Darlene.

Meredith looked around the room at the floor coated with blood and gore, the windows shattered, Solomon's body in pieces, vampire corpses scattered through the hallways. Water was running in long dirty stains through the bloody wallpaper. Andres's magic vines, wilting, ran across the floor. Even the suckling pig had smashed. There was no way they could leave the museum this way for innocent curators to find in the morning.

"What does he mean, take care of it?" she asked Darlene.

The older woman smiled grimly, the flamethrower hanging from her hand. "He means burn it to the ground," she said. "Want to help me find some gasoline?"

Chapter 17

Trinity moaned and thrashed her head against the pillow, trying to pull away. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes moved rapidly. She was still trying to fight.

"You're safe now," Elena murmured, trying to soothe her. "We've got you." She stroked Trinity's hair carefully back from her forehead, and the girl stilled a little, whimpering. She was terribly pale. "It's taking her a long time to heal," Elena said nervously, looking up at Stefan.

"I know." Stefan ran his fingers unconsciously across the wrist he had fed Trinity from. "But giving her any more blood isn't safe. She'd rather die than be a vampire; any hunter would."

Elena's breath caught in her throat. Stefan thought that Trinity-funny, sweet-tempered Trinity, who had sparred with her and sympathized over Sammy's death-was dying. Elena didn't want to believe it, but Trinity looked so small and helpless lying there, trapped in her unconscious fight.

Jack nodded, his eyes fixed on his young teammate. His hair and clothes were spattered with blood and his face was exhausted, but he hadn't left Trinity's side. "All we can do now is watch over her," he said softly. "At least we killed Solomon."

Stefan nodded. "It was all thanks to Andres," he said. "Without him, we never could have gotten free."

Andres was slumped in a chair in the corner of the bedroom, completely asleep. Elena could sympathize. It sounded like he had channeled so much Power that he had burned himself out temporarily.

"Everyone fought hard," Meredith said with a brief smile, dried blood cracking on her face. "And we won."

Solomon was dead, Elena reminded herself. With all the worry over Trinity, she hadn't really let it sink in. It didn't feel like they'd won.

Glimpsing her own reflection in the window, she saw a pale, large-eyed girl, one who looked like the victim in a dark fairy tale, not the happy princess. She was edgy and anxious, as if there was some kind of doom hanging over her head. As if there was something terrible still out there in the dark.

Stefan had told Elena that Solomon was the same man who brushed past her outside the bar a while ago, with the yellow-green eyes. She shivered at the thought that he had touched her, and realized how close she could have been to death at that moment. I'm being ridiculous, she told herself. Everything will be all right, as long as Trinity survives.

Trinity shifted in the bed and gave a soft whimper, and Elena forced her attention back to the wounded girl.

The apartment was full, but it was very quiet, just the shuffle of feet in the hall as everyone-hunters, werewolves, Elena's friends-stopped by, one after another, to gaze in at Trinity as she struggled for life. They were all injured in varying degrees, with limps, bruises, and cuts, but no one was hurt as badly as Trinity. Her hair spread out over the pillow, and her lashes were dark against the pallor of her face. She was breathing slowly and shallowly. Elena realized that she was breathing in time with Trinity, trying to make her friend's breath get stronger by sheer force of will.

But there was one person she hadn't seen. "Where's Matt?" she asked Meredith.

"He said he had something to do," Meredith reassured her. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Elena nodded. Tension still hung over her, over all of them. Trinity was balanced between life and death now, they all knew it, and the only thing they could do was to wait.

Matt scrubbed fiercely at the blood on his face with a wet wipe he'd found in the glove compartment of his car. He met his own gaze in the rearview mirror, confused and desperate, and looked away in frustration.

If he went into the hospital with blood on his shirt and in his hair, they'd either arrest him or try to operate on him.

Maybe there was something in his trunk. Hunching his shoulders so that no one in the hospital parking lot would realize he was covered in blood, he unearthed a dirty gray hoodie and pulled it over his head.

The emergency room was lit so brightly lit that it hurt his eyes for a moment. He staggered, blinking his eyes rapidly to adjust, and looked around. Before he could make it to the nurse behind the desk, Jasmine's voice spoke behind him. "Matt? What's going on?"

He turned to see her standing there, crisp and competent in her white coat, the complete opposite of everything he felt right now. When she saw his face, her eyes widened and she pulled him to the side of the room. "What is it?" she asked urgently. "What's happened?"

Matt licked his lips nervously. On the ride over, all he'd been able to think was: Get Jasmine. She can help Trinity. You need Jasmine. And she could help; he knew she could. But he didn't know what to say now.

"Please," he managed, his voice cracking. "Please, we have to hurry."

Jasmine frowned and glanced toward the admitting desk, and Matt angled himself to block her view. "No," he said. "We can't do this here. There'll be too many questions. You have to come with me now."

"Take a breath and tell me what's going on," Jasmine said calmly. Then she got a good look at him, and her eyes widened. "You have blood on your face." She reached out to touch him, clearly worried. "Where are you hurt?"

"It's not mine." Matt took a deep breath, feeling as if he was flinging himself off a high cliff over dark water. If he did this, there was no going back. But he had to. Trinity's life was at stake. "Please, trust me. I'll explain on the way. Vampires are real. Magic is real. A friend is hurt, and we can't bring her here."

Jasmine's eyes flew toward the admitting desk again, and the security guard beside it. "Please," Matt said desperately. "I need your help."

He gazed pleadingly at Jasmine and reached for her hand, trying to throw all the love he felt for her into one look, trying to remind her of how she trusted him. It was a lot to ask. But even if she thought he was having a psychotic break, he didn't mind, as long as he could get her to come help Trinity. She needed a doctor.

Jasmine looked doubtfully between him and the security guard, then finally sighed, her eyes softening. "I'll tell my supervisor I have to leave for personal reasons, and I'll come," she said. "But afterward, Matt, if I ask you to come back to the hospital with me, you're coming."

Matt pulled her into a hug, clinging to her, breathing in the scent of her, the normality and sanity she meant to him. "I'll wait for you out front," he said. "Bring a medical kit if you can. And please hurry."

Chapter 18

Nothing was killing these vampires.

Damon grabbed one by the neck and sank a stake into his heart. His opponent fell, but instead of dying like he should have, he simply pulled the stake out of his chest, scrambled back to his feet, and lunged toward Damon again. What the-? Before the strange vampire could get close enough, Katherine grabbed him from behind and snapped his neck.

The vampire fell like a stone, but by now Damon knew that was only temporary. Breaking their necks kept these vampires down for longer than anything else they'd tried, but it wasn't permanent. Damon knew from experience that they had about half an hour before that vampire would be up and fighting again.

He glared down at the circle of temporarily incapacitated vampires around him. "What the hell?" he growled, kicking at one of them. "Stakes don't kill them, breaking their necks doesn't kill them, it's impossible to pull their heads off or their hearts out, they can walk in the daylight, and apparently they're not affected by holy ground." He gestured around at the baroque-style Russian Orthodox church they were standing in. Some older vampires still refused to go on holy ground, and it had been worth trying. "How are we supposed to kill them?"

"We'll find something," Katherine said grimly. "Let's search the bodies while they're out." She looked tired, Damon thought, her beautiful lapis lazuli eyes sunken and a slight grayish pallor to her skin. She wasn't getting enough to eat, he knew, and she was still letting him feed from her.

Damon used the toe of his extremely expensive-but now, to his dismay, badly scuffed-boot to flip over the vampire closest to him, an East Asian man with short dark hair. "Nothing worthwhile here," he said, going through the fallen vampire's pockets. "A few coins."

"This one's pockets are empty," Katherine reported, bending over another at the other end of the room.

"This one looks like a peasant." Damon glared haughtily down at the next unconscious vampire, who was dressed in ripped jeans and a stained T-shirt. "Terrible taste in clothes." Starving and running for his life made him more irritable than usual.

"We were more discerning when we turned people in the old days." Katherine sniffed. "You and Stefan were the only ones I made for centuries."

"You made up for it these last few years, though, didn't you?" Damon asked absently. Was there something in the peasant's pocket? His fingers closed on a narrow rectangle of cardboard, and he pulled it out. A business card. There was no phone number or address or any information at all, really. Just a company name-Lifetime Solutions-and a stylized black-and-white figure eight. "An infinity symbol?" he asked aloud. "Katherine, this-"

As he looked up, there was a sudden flurry of movement, and Katherine made a high, choking sound, her eyes startled wide open. There was a wooden stake buried in her chest.

One of the vampires who should have still been unconscious had risen up behind her, utterly silent, and attacked Katherine from behind. Katherine stared at Damon for one long moment, her lips parted in surprise. And then she fell.

Horrified, Damon flew across the room quickly enough to catch her before she hit the floor. Cradling Katherine carefully in the crook of one arm, he snapped the other vampire's neck again before it could stake him, too. The strange vampire hit the floor with a thud as Damon turned his full attention to Katherine.

"No, darling, stay with me," he begged, the shock hitting him. He pulled the stake from her chest, but he could tell already that it was too late. Her beautiful blue eyes were glazing over as he watched. Time seemed to stretch out as Damon thought of the long roads they'd traveled together, him and Katherine. From his days as a human, when he'd loved her with all his heart, to now, when they had become companions, even friends. Sharp, spiteful, sometimes charming, never boring. His Katherine.

"Damon," she breathed, just a whisper of sound. His chest tight with sorrow, Damon watched as the life in Katherine's eyes faded, and she went heavy and still in his arms.

He held her close for a moment, then slowly lowered her to the ground, stroking her cheek in silent apology. His eyes felt hot. He'd loved Katherine, and then he'd hated her. He'd died and killed for her, and he'd watched her die once before. Lately, she'd been his friend. His mind kept coming back to that. He didn't have many friends. He never had. "I'm sorry, Katherine," he whispered to her.

He kneeled, gazing down at her body, which looked painfully small and still on the floor of the church. She'd always loomed so large to him, his maker, his first love. "They'll pay for this," he swore solemnly. "I'll find a way to kill them. I promise."

One of the vampires on the floor stirred, and Damon slammed the stake in his hand through its chest. It wouldn't kill the vampire, Damon knew that, but it would keep him down a few minutes longer. They were recovering faster than they had the first few times he and Katherine had fought them. Wasn't that a wonderful thing to realize, he thought bitterly, now that he was alone.

Alone. Damon thought briefly of his brother, and anger whipped through him. Damon had asked Stefan to come. If he had been there, they wouldn't have been quite so outnumbered, and maybe Katherine wouldn't have died.

It was time to go. Damon got to his feet and scooped Katherine up in his arms, cupping her head carefully with one hand to hold it against his shoulder, her hair soft under his fingers. She was as light as she'd been the first day he'd met her, when he had lifted her down from her father's carriage. She'd looked shyly at him through dark lashes, and his human heart had sped up, filled with emotions he'd barely understood. They'd been such children then.

He was going to take these strange, almost unkillable vampires down, no matter what. As Damon pushed his way through the front double doors, his footsteps echoing in the vast empty space of the church, he felt for the business card in his pocket. Lifetime Solutions. It was as good a place as any to start.

#TVD11FarewellKatherine

On the apartment's balcony, Stefan closed his eyes for a moment. It was almost morning, and he was tired. Solomon was dead now, and Elena was safe. He wondered how long it would take for that to really hit him, for the gaping pit of anxiety he'd been carrying inside to heal.

A cool dawn breeze brushed his cheek, and just for a moment, it felt almost like a hand. It carried a fresh scent with it, the smell of damask roses. Stefan frowned.

Back at the beginning, when he'd been alive, Katherine had smelled like that. She used to bathe in rose water. It had been a long time since he'd smelled that scent-it wasn't the kind of perfume modern women wore.

Good-bye, Stefan. He didn't know if he really heard the words, but suddenly they were there in his mind. Katherine's voice. In a flash he knew what had happened, and his chest tightened with sorrow. Katherine was dead. She'd been his enemy those last times he'd seen her, but once upon a time he'd loved her.

He pushed the thought away. I'm just tired and morbid, he told himself, but something in him felt that it was true. He needed to call Damon to make sure he was okay.

Entering the living room from the balcony, Stefan almost ran into Jasmine, who flinched backward. "Sorry, oh, I'm sorry," she said, breathlessly.

Stefan stepped deliberately away from her, his hands held up in what he hoped was a nonthreatening gesture. "No, excuse me," he said. Earlier, Matt had made Stefan show Jasmine his fangs and his speed to convince her that he was a vampire, and she'd coped with it all surprisingly well. Matt followed Jasmine in from the bedroom and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Elena, Jack, and Meredith, who had been talking quietly on the sofa, jumped to their feet at Jasmine's arrival.

"How is she?" Elena asked.

Jasmine smiled wearily. "Trinity's stable," she said. "I set her up with some saline to keep her from getting dehydrated, and the tranexamic acid helped with the bleeding. I'm going to leave some antibiotics with you that she should take twice a day for the next week and a half, but I think she'll be fine." Her eyes flittered hesitantly back to Stefan. "The-what you gave her, the blood, really helped her heal. I don't think she would be alive without it."

Jack clapped Stefan on the shoulder, and Elena threw her arms around Jasmine. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much." Matt grinned and hugged Jasmine, too, and then Meredith piled on, all four of them laughing now, loose with relief.

Stefan smiled, keeping his distance, but a great wave of gratitude washed over him. If Trinity lived, if she recovered, then they would have come through this amazingly unscathed.

After a little more talk, all of them promising to help with Trinity's care, make sure she stayed in bed and took all her medications, Matt and Jasmine headed for the door. "Jasmine's working the emergency room again tomorrow," Matt said. "She'd better catch all the sleep she can. Meredith, do you want a ride?"

Meredith nodded. "Just let me grab my stuff," she said. "It's in the bedroom." She put a finger to her lips. "I won't wake her, I promise. Hunters can be as quiet as cats."

Jasmine rested her head on Matt's shoulder as they waited. Jack headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to tell the others," he threw back over his shoulder.

Alone for a moment, Stefan took the opportunity to pull Elena aside, to tell her about the strange moment out on the balcony. "When I was outside-" he began.

But before he could continue, feet pounded down the hall and Meredith burst back into the living room, her olive skin unnaturally pale. "Trinity's gone!"

Chapter 19

"We'll find her. We will find her," Matt said, pushing his foot down on the accelerator. He wasn't sure whom he was trying to convince, Jasmine or himself, but even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. How could anyone have gotten to Trinity? She'd only been unattended for a couple of minutes at most. There'd been no sign of violence in the room, just the covers pushed back, the saline drip making a wet patch on the empty bed.

"I can't understand how she could have walked away." Jasmine shivered. "She was so sick. She just kept staring at me with those yellow eyes while I gave her the injections. I doubt she even saw me."

"I don't think she left on her own," Matt said tightly. The sun was just coming over the horizon, dazzling him, and he squinted hard at the road ahead. Then the other part of what Jasmine had said registered, and his hands jerked on the wheel.

"Careful!" Jasmine yelped, and Matt swerved back into his own lane, his heart pounding.

"What do you mean, yellow eyes?" he asked. "Trinity has blue eyes; I'm sure of it."

Shaking her head, Jasmine wrapped her arms around herself. "This is all too weird," she muttered, and fell into silence for the rest of the ride home.

When they got to Jasmine's building, Matt parked and walked Jasmine to her door. She turned to him, her key in her hand, and his heart sank. There was something unfamiliar in her face: a look of fear and doubt. I did this. I wanted to keep all this from her so she'd never have to look like that.

"Trinity will be all right," he said, babbling, desperate to take that look away. "We'll find her tomorrow; everything will be fine. She can't have gone far. And, you know, she'll be all right because you saved her. I can't-I'm so grateful to you, I can't tell you how much-"

But Jasmine was shaking her head back and forth in denial, a strong no no no. "Matt-" she said.

"I love you," Matt said quickly, talking over her. "It's not always like this, I promise. And we can teach you to protect yourself." Matt reached out a hand, trying to reassure her, but her arms were crossed over her chest.

That was the wrong thing to say; he knew it as he said it. Jasmine's lips twisted into a wry smile. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

Matt's vision blurred. "I love you," he said again, hearing the flat note of despair in his voice. He always lost everything. Everyone.

Jasmine's eyes were shining with tears. She uncrossed her arms and reached out to take Matt's hand. "I love you, too, Matt," she said, steadily. "But this is too dangerous, for both of us." She frowned. "Maybe I can finish my residency somewhere else. We could start fresh."

Matt stepped back. "I can't just leave," he said. "These are my friends. We have to find Trinity and figure out-" He broke off. Jasmine's face was miserable with longing, but her mouth was a firm line.

"I know," she said, her fingers tightening on his as if she couldn't bear to let him pull away. "You're so loyal. I love that about you."

"So ... is this the end?" he asked her, dreading what she would say next. He felt like he was drying up inside, withering.

"I think it has to be," Jasmine whispered. Tears were running down her cheeks, and she let go of his hand again to swipe at them, sniffing.

Part of Matt wasn't surprised. All this time, he'd known that it would come down to this-his friends, or Jasmine. He couldn't have both. Love didn't work out for him. He ducked his head down, stared at his grimy sneakers. "I don't want to lose you," he said softly, "but I can't change who I am."

There was a choked-off sob from Jasmine, and then her lips brushed lightly over his cheek. He didn't look up, just kept his eyes fixed on the tattered shoelaces on his right shoe, the rip in the side. Then she was gone, the door of her building slamming behind her.

Matt touched the spot where Jasmine had kissed him, holding onto this, the last kiss she would give him. The sun had risen over the horizon now, and everything seemed hard and cold and bright.

He turned and walked back to the car alone, the wind whipping against his cheeks where he could still feel Jasmine's kiss.