The Vampire Diaries #10: Destiny Rising (The Hunters #3) (2012)

Chapter 40

  Ice cubes clinked lightly in his glass as Damon raised it in a toast to Katherine. "Here's to you, darling," he said. "The last survivor of Klaus's army. Lucky that you missed the battle, isn't it?"

With a sly smile, Katherine fluttered her eyelashes expressively, taking a sip of her own drink, and patted the sofa cushion next to her, inviting Damon to sit.

"Thank you for warning me," she said. "I may have been indebted to Klaus for bringing me back, but I didn't think I owed him another death. I never had any intention of fighting you and your precious princess again. I may be older and stronger than you, but there's always been too much luck on your side."

"Not my precious princess," Damon said with a grimace. "Stefan's. She was never really mine."

"Oh, well," Katherine said lightly, "I think it's always been a little more complicated than that, hasn't it?"

Damon narrowed his eyes. "You knew about Elena being a Guardian, didn't you?" he demanded. "And you never told Klaus. Why?"

A small, slightly smug smile crossed Katherine's face. "You should have learned by now that you can never ask a girl to give up all her secrets. And I'm full of secrets. Always." Damon frowned. He had never been able to get Katherine to tell him anything she didn't want to.

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Damon rose and opened the door to find Elena herself outside. Her face was pale and strained, and her jewel-blue eyes seemed huge as they stared at each other. Damon cocked an eyebrow and threw her his most brilliant smile, refusing to acknowledge the tremor of nervousness that ran through him.

She cared for him - he knew that. He'd tried to throw that fact back in her face, to deny it, and it hadn't worked. But there was also something in her that was driving her toward killing him, her Guardian's task pushing for fulfillment. Ever since he had saved her in the elevator, he had been able to feel that Elena was holding herself back. And he still loved her, would probably always love her. Part of him wanted to bow his head before her, take the punishment she was duty-bound to give him.

And whatever happened to him, he would probably deserve it.

Elena looked past him at Katherine and paled even further, although he wouldn't have thought that was possible. Damon turned and found that Katherine was standing absolutely still just a few feet away, looking back at Elena with a faint, secretive smile.

"So now you know," Katherine said to Elena. "And you're smart enough to use it."

"Did you know? Back when we first met?" Elena asked her abruptly, as if the words had been jerked out of her against her will.

Katherine shook her head. "You learn a lot when you're dead sometimes," she said, the faint smile spreading.

"Know what?" Damon said, looking back and forth between them.

Katherine came closer, trailing her fingers lightly across Damon's arm. "Like I said," she told him, "a girl has to have her secrets." She winked at Elena. "I'm going to leave town for a little while. I think it's better if I keep out of your way from now on."

Elena nodded. "You're probably right. Good-bye, Katherine," she said. "And thank you."

A flash of humor crossed Katherine's face. "Right back at you," she said, and for a moment, the resemblance between them struck Damon more strongly than it ever had before.

Then Elena, all business now, turned to Damon. "It's time for us to face the Guardians. Are you ready?" she asked him.

Damon downed the rest of his drink quickly, then slammed the glass down on his polished steel coffee table, and inwardly cursed his vampiric tolerance for alcohol. It might have been easier, he thought, to face what was coming if he had been a little bit drunk. "Ready as I'll ever be," he drawled.

Bonnie sniffed at the rich and varied scents as she turned over her store of herbs.

"Where does this one go?" Matt asked her, holding up a bag of purple petals.

"That's aconite. It's used for protection," Bonnie replied. "Put it over there with the dogwood and agrimony."

"Got it," Matt said, placing the aconite in a neat pile amidst the other herbs, as if it was the most normal task.

For their lives, it was pretty much as close to normal as it got. She was low on a bunch of herbs, unsurprisingly, after all the spells for protection and strength she had been performing in the past few weeks. She would have to drive down to Fell's Church soon and ask Mrs. Flowers to help her restock her supplies, now that things were quiet.

She wriggled with pleasure at the thought of a nice, normal visit home. It was so good to feel safe; it had been such a long time since she had.

Meredith and Elena were both out, and Bonnie had taken advantage of the room and the time without them to spread out piles of dried and fresh herbs all across the floor. Her best friends were both total neat freaks and would doubtless complain about the fragrant dust and crumbled bits of leaves this would leave behind. It was just amazing to worry about something as ordinary as what Meredith would say when she stepped in the remains of a pile of celandine (which was useful for happiness and aided in escaping entrapments).

Almost amazing. There was a steady ache inside her these days, a reminder of what she had lost, one that couldn't be cured by any herb. But she wasn't the only one who was in pain.

"I think you're really brave, Matt," Bonnie said. Matt looked up at her, startled by the abrupt shift in the conversation.

"When life hands you lemons . . ." Matt drifted off, not even able to complete the halfhearted joke. She knew he was devastated by losing Chloe, but he never let it change him. Bonnie admired that.

Before she could tell him as much, there was a knock at the door, and she tensed. An unexpected tap at the door usually meant disaster.

Nevertheless, she got up and opened the door, managing at the last minute to stop herself from kicking a little pile of chinaberry seeds (for luck and change) into Elena's slippers.

Slouched against her door frame, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, was Zander. He smiled at her tentatively. "Can I come in?" he asked.

He smelled so good, she thought. He looked gorgeous, too, and Bonnie just wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold on. She had missed him so much lately.

But she'd lost the right to grab on to Zander whenever she felt like it; she'd been the one to walk away. So instead of leaping into his arms, Bonnie just stepped back to let him in, feeling some kind of powdery leaves crumble under her bare heel.

"Oh, hey, Matt," Zander said as he stepped into the room, and then pulled up short, his eyes widening as he took in the little heaps of herbs on every available surface.

"Hey, Zander," Matt said. "I was just heading out, actually. Football practice."

Matt gave Bonnie a pointed look that said, Don't screw up a second chance. Bonnie smiled at her friend as he slipped out the door.

"Jeez," Zander said, impressed as he explored more of the room. Bonnie followed him. "Meredith is going to murder you. Do you want help cleaning this up?"

"Um." Bonnie looked around. Now that she saw the room through Zander's eyes, it looked much worse than she'd realized. "Wow. Maybe, yeah. But I know that's not why you're here. What's up?"

Zander took Bonnie's hand and together they carefully navigated their way through the room without knocking over any piles. When they finally arrived at her bed, which was probably the clearest surface in the room - she didn't like the smell of mixed herbs all over her sheets - they sat down and he took her hands in his big, warm ones.

"Listen, Bonnie," he said. "I've been thinking about what you said, that being Alpha to the Pack is such an important responsibility, and that I need another werewolf by my side who really understands that, to be my partner and help me. And you're right. Shay's perfect for that."

"Oh," Bonnie said, her voice tiny. Something was crumbling inside her, as fragile as a dead leaf. She tried to gently pull her hands away from Zander's, but he tightened his grip.

"No," he said, distressed. "I'm saying this wrong. Let me start over. Bonnie, look at me." She looked up, her vision clouded with tears, and met Zander's sea-blue eyes. "You, Bonnie," he said softly. "I love you. When we were fighting Klaus's army, I saw you casting spells to protect everyone, with this fierce kind of light in your face. You were so strong, and so powerful, and you could have been killed. Or I could have been killed, and we wouldn't have been together at the end. It made me realize what I should have known all along: you're the only one I want."

The crumbling thing in Bonnie's chest stopped its dry disintegration and began to melt instead, filling her with warmth. But she couldn't let Zander sacrifice the good of his Pack for her. "But nothing's changed," she said at last. "I love you, too, but what if loving me destroys everything else that matters to you?"

Zander pulled her closer. "It won't," he said. "The wolves on the Council can't choose who I love. I don't love Shay. I love you. Shay and I can lead the Pack together, but if it ever came down to it, I would rather lose that than lose you." He raised Bonnie's hand to his lips and kissed it softly, his eyes shining. "I can choose my own destiny," he said. "And I choose you. If you'll have me."

"If I'll have you?" Bonnie choked on her tears, wiped at her eyes, and then punched Zander softly in the shoulder. "You dork," she said lovingly, and kissed him.

Chapter 41

"Are you sure this will do what we need?" Elena asked Bonnie. They'd chosen Stefan's spacious, uncluttered single to summon the Principal Guardian. When Elena had called Bonnie, she'd come right up, her hand held tightly in Zander's. She looked so happy, but when she handed Damon the potion she'd made for him, her small face creased with anxiety.

"I think so," she said. "The valerian will slow his heart rate even more than usual, and the aconite ought to make his breathing really shallow. It will probably feel pretty weird," she told Damon, "but I don't think it'll hurt you."

Damon looked down at the thick green mixture in the cup. "Of course it won't," he said reassuringly. "You can't poison a vampire."

"I put honey in to make it taste better," Bonnie said.

"Thank you, redbird," Damon said, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Whether this plan works or not, I'm grateful." Bonnie grinned, a little flustered, and he added, "You and your wolf had better go. We wouldn't want the Guardians to think you were involved." Zander and Damon nodded to each other and Zander took Bonnie's hand again.

When they left, it was just the three of them: Elena, Damon, and Andres. Stefan had wanted to come, to stand by his brother's side in what might be Damon's last moments, but Damon hadn't let him. An angry Guardian is dangerous, he'd said. And, at best, Mylea would be very angry.

Damon drank Bonnie's potion in one long swallow and grimaced. "The honey doesn't help that much," he commented. Elena hugged him and he gently rubbed her back. "Whatever happens, it's not your fault," he said. Then he shuddered and leaned back against the wall, pressing one hand against his chest. "Ugh," he said faintly. "I don't feel . . ." His eyes rolled back in his head and he slid down the wall, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Damon!" she cried, and then caught herself. This was supposed to happen. He looked vulnerable like that, she thought, and smaller, and she dragged her eyes away from him. This would be easier if she didn't look at Damon.

"Are you ready to call the Guardian?" Elena asked Andres, and he nodded, holding tightly to her hand. His mouth was tense, and there was none of the usual warmth and humor in his eyes.

Elena concentrated on the link between herself and Andres, energy flowing back and forth between them, moving as steadily and rhythmically as the tide. As that energy found a balance and began to grow, she forced open the doors of Power inside herself.

OH. As soon as her Power was unleashed, everything in her swung to attention, snapping toward Damon. She wanted to . . . she didn't want to hurt him, exactly; it wasn't anger the Power was nursing inside her, but something cold and clean that wanted to destroy him. Not vengeance, not passion, but a cool, urgent instruction: This needs to be eliminated.

This must be what it was to have an unfulfilled task. It would be so easy to give in to that cold urgency, to do what she was expected to do. What she wanted to do.

No. She couldn't do it. Or, at least, she wouldn't.

With a physical effort, she turned her attention back to Andres. With the doors inside her mind wide open, she could see his expansive aura, shimmering green around him, filling half the room. Using immense concentration, she tried to move her own aura, blending her gold into Andres's green. Slowly, the colors slid together and mixed, filling the room. Power sang through Elena's veins, and everything she could see was touched with light. She met Andres's eyes, and his face was filled with wonder. They were stronger like this, more than twice as strong, and she felt the summoning go out with the Power of a shout.

"Guardians," Elena said, holding on to Andres's hand. "Mylea. I call on you. My task is complete."

Nothing happened.

For a long moment, they stood like that, hand-in-hand, eyes on each other, auras expanded to fill the room with Power, and felt nothing change.

Finally, something shifted infinitesimally, just a small adjustment in the universe. There was no physical change, but Elena knew that someone was listening at last, as if they'd flicked the call-waiting button on a phone.

"Mylea," she said. "I have killed Damon Salvatore. Now that my task is complete, come and release me from my compulsion."

There was still no answer. And then Andres slowly stiffened. His eyes rolled back and his aura faded, changing from green to a clear wash of white. His fingers trembled in Elena's.

"Andres!" she called, alarmed.

His eyes, unseeing, fixed on hers. The eerie white aura around him throbbed.

"I am coming, Elena." Mylea's voice came through Andres's mouth, sounding crisply businesslike. Elena could imagine her ticking Elena's name off a clipboard before stepping onto some kind of interdimensional escalator.

Released, Andres gasped and staggered. Making a face as if there was a strange taste in his mouth, he said, "That was . . . weird."

Elena couldn't stop herself from looking at Damon. His bones stood out distinctly, as if his pale skin had grown a size tighter, and his straight black hair was tousled. She could snap his neck with her mind, she thought, and she bit the inside of her cheek hard, looking away again, shaking.

Mylea stepped through nothingness and into the room. Her eyes went immediately to Damon. "He's not dead yet," she said coolly.

"No." Elena took a deep breath. "And I won't let Damon die," she said. "You have to revoke the task."

The Principal Guardian sighed briefly, but her face was, Elena thought, slightly sympathetic, and when she spoke, her voice was calm. "I was concerned that a task so tied to your own life would be difficult for you as your first duty," she said. "I apologize, and I understand why you have called me here to complete the job. You will not be punished for your foolish attachment to the vampire. But Damon Salvatore must die." She reached for Damon, and Andres and Elena moved to shield the vampire's unconscious body.

"Why?" Elena burst out. It was so unfair. "There are worse vampires than Damon," she said indignantly. "Until recently, he hadn't killed anyone for" - she wasn't sure, she realized, and this wasn't her strongest argument, anyway - "a long time," she finished lamely. "Why send me after Damon when truly evil vampires like Klaus and his descendants were around?" She could hear what she was almost saying: He's only a vicious killer some of the time. Let him go.

"It is not your job to question the decisions of the Celestial Court," Mylea told her sternly. "Time and again, Damon Salvatore has proven himself unable to control his emotions. He has no concept of right and wrong. We feel that he may grow to be as great a danger to humanity as any of the Old Ones."

"May," Elena said. "You mean you think he could just as easily go the other way. There's as great a chance that he will never kill again."

"It's not a chance we're prepared to take," Mylea said flatly. "Damon Salvatore is a murderer and so has forfeited his right to any consideration on our parts. Now step aside."

It was time to gamble. Elena took a deep breath.

"You need me," she said, and the Guardian frowned at her. "I am the daughter of a Principal Guardian. I killed Klaus, and I can destroy the most dangerous Old Ones, the ones you haven't found another way of getting rid of. I won't help you if you kill Damon."

She glanced at Andres, just the tiniest flick of her eyelashes, and he nodded. They had agreed that the most difficult part of their plan was making the Guardian believe that Elena wouldn't fight the Old Ones, would let innocent people suffer if she didn't get her way. Apparently Andres, at least, thought she sounded convincing enough for Mylea to believe her.

Mylea tilted her head to one side and stared at Elena, as if she was examining an interesting new specimen under some kind of special Guardian microscope. "The vampire is so important to you that you would risk punishment, risk being taken from your home and assigned to the Celestial Court?"

Elena nodded, her jaw clenched.

"The vampire should be conscious for this," Mylea said. Before Andres and Elena had a chance to block her again, she knelt beside Damon and pressed two fingers to his forehead. He blinked and stirred, and Mylea rose and left him without a glance, turning her gaze back to Elena.

"Would you risk your life for Damon Salvatore?" Mylea asked her.

"Yes," Elena said immediately. There didn't seem to be anything else to add.

"And what about you, vampire?" Mylea asked, looking over Elena's shoulder to address Damon. "Do you care so much for Elena that you would change your life for her?"

Damon pulled himself up to sit with his back against the wall. "Yes," he said steadily.

Mylea gave a slightly unpleasant smile. "I suppose we will see," she said, and reached for them both. She pressed their hands together, and Elena clasped her hand with Damon's and gave him a small smile. He squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

"There," Mylea said after a moment. "It is done."

That pull toward Damon, that cold feeling that he was a problem that needed to be eliminated, was completely gone. It was as if that connection had just suddenly snapped. But it had been replaced. She still felt connected. There was a great sense of Damon permeating through her, as if the air she breathed was made of him. His eyes widened, and she realized she could feel his heart beating in time with her own. Amazement was coming from Damon, running through the connection between them, and the lightest touch of fear. Concentrating, she tried to see Damon's aura.

A braided rope of light seemed to lead from her chest to Damon's, her aura's gold and the peacock-blue-and-black of Damon's aura twisted together.

"Now you are connected," Mylea said matter-of-factly. "If Damon kills, Elena will die. If Damon feeds on a human without their knowing, aware permission - no use of Power or illusion, but true agreement - Elena will suffer. In the event that Elena dies, the bond - the curse - will pass to a member of her family. If the bond is somehow broken, Damon will return to our attention and be eliminated immediately."

Damon's eyes widened. Through the bond between them, Elena felt a throb of dismay. "I'll starve," he said.

Mylea smiled. "You won't starve," she said. "Perhaps your brother will teach you his more humane methods of feeding. Or perhaps you will find willing humans, if you can honestly gain their trust."

The bond was vibrating now with a curious mixture of disgust and relief, but Damon's face was as closed off as Elena had ever seen it. She rubbed reflexively at her chest, pushing the intense emotions away.

"The bond will lose some of its intensity over time," Mylea said, almost sympathetically. "You feel each other's emotions strongly because it is so new." She looked between them. "It will connect you forever, and it may be deadly to one or both of you in the end."

"I understand," Elena told her and then, ignoring Mylea, she turned to Damon. "I trust you," she told him. "You'll do whatever you have to do to save me. As I've done for you."

Damon stared at her for a long moment, his dark eyes unfathomable, and Elena felt the connection between them flood with a sorrowful affection. "I will, princess," he promised.

His lips curved into a smile Elena had never seen on Damon's face before: neither his quick bitter smirk nor his brief and brilliant smile, but something warmer and gentler. And then the connection between them filled with love.

Chapter 42

Meredith ran across campus, her feet pounding in a steady rhythm, her breath coming in harsh, painful gasps. Her legs were aching. She'd been running for a long time, looping across the campus paths again and again. Stinging sweat trickled into her eyes, making them blink and water.

The harder she ran, the longer she could keep herself from thinking about anything except the slap of her running shoes against the ground or the sound of her own breath.

The day was starting to edge into evening as she took the curve past the history building again and started up the hill toward the dining hall. When she crested the hill, Alaric was waiting at the top.

"Hi," Meredith said, coming to a stop as she drew even with him. "Are you waiting for me?" She pulled up one foot to stretch out her quadriceps; she didn't want to cramp up.

"I wanted to make sure that you were okay," Alaric said.

"I'm fine," Meredith said dully. She let her foot drop and instead laced her hands behind her and folded forward, so that her head was almost touching her knees. She could feel her spine lengthening, and she had also begun to feel the ache from running for so long.

"Meredith?" Alaric knelt down beside her so that he could look up into her face. Meredith concentrated on the golden freckles scattered across his nose and the tops of his cheekbones, because she didn't want to meet his worried brown eyes. Their color was like honey against his tanned skin.

"Meredith?" Alaric said again. "Could you unpretzel yourself and talk to me for a minute? Please?"

Meredith unfolded, but didn't meet Alaric's eyes. Instead, she twisted from side to side, pulling her shoulders forward in turn. "I have to stretch or my muscles will get sore," she muttered.

Alaric stood and watched her, waiting calmly.

After a while, Meredith began to feel childish for not meeting Alaric's gaze, and she straightened and looked him squarely in the eye. He was still just standing there patiently, his face soft with sympathy.

"I know," she said. "I know everything you're going to say."

"Do you?" Alaric asked. He reached out and tucked back a long piece of hair that had come out of her ponytail, his hand lingering against her cheek. "Because I don't have the faintest idea what to say. I can't imagine what it must feel like to meet your brother for the first time and then have to kill him."

"Yeah," Meredith sighed, and wiped the sweat off her face. "I don't know what to feel, either. It's almost like Cristian was never real to me. He was just a story, something the Guardians could change in an instant."

She drew a line with the toe of her sneaker in the dust at the side of the path. "Ultimately," she said, "I never knew him at all. He talked about . . . oh, going to the beach and stuff, and the way our dad is. I could imagine that world, the world where we were a team." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "But everything was a lie, for him and for me."

Alaric wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled Meredith closer to him. "It's not fair," he said seriously. "Klaus destroyed a lot of people's lives. In the end, you were a big part of bringing him down and stopping that destruction, and you should be proud of that. And that other life, the one where he grew up happy, with a sister, it wasn't a lie. There was a world where Cristian loved you, and you loved him. That's still true. You and your friends made that happen."

Burying her face against Alaric's neck, Meredith said in a muffled voice, "My parents will never get over this, losing him again."

"Maybe it's better that they knew Cristian for this long, that they got to see him grow up instead of losing him when he was three, the way things were in the world you remember," Alaric suggested gently.

"Maybe." Meredith rolled her head on Alaric's shoulder until she was leaning against his shoulder and gazing out across the campus. "Do you know what Cristian said to me, at the end? I was about to stake him, and he said in this low, sort of secretive voice, 'Dad would be so proud of you.' And you know what? He was right. Maybe part of Cristian wanted me to kill him, for me to be strong."

Alaric tightened his arms around her. "You are strong, Meredith. You're the bravest person I've ever known."

"You're brave, too," Meredith said, sinking into his embrace. She thought of Alaric chanting spells, trying to raise Power to protect them all during the battle, going up against a vampire army with nothing but a stake and a spell book. "I love you so much," she said. "I want you with me, always."

Alaric's lips brushed across the back of her neck. "Me too," he murmured. "It's an honor to fight beside you, Meredith Sulez. And don't you ever forget it."

Chapter 43

Above Elena's and Damon's heads, the stars glittered in great long swathes across the dark night. The air was clear and chilly with the smells of autumn, and the sky seemed so deep that Elena felt like she could just fall into it, swim farther and farther among the stars forever.

"So," Damon said dryly. "You managed to avoid killing me. I suppose I should be grateful?"

The bond between them hummed with wry humor, and more than a touch of nervousness. It was strange being able to read Damon's emotions like this, seeing more than he allowed to show on his face. "Gratitude would be nice," she said cautiously, "but it's not necessary. Just try to keep returning the favor, okay?"

She felt him startle a little beside her, a shock zinging along their bond, and then he said, breezily, "Oh, I'd almost forgotten. You're trusting me not to hurt you, then?"

Elena stopped walking and put her hand on Damon's arm, pulling him to a stop beside her. "Yes," she said, gazing steadily into his eyes, letting him see the love she carried for him. "I am. You've been a lot of things, Damon Salvatore, but you've always been a gentleman."

Damon's eyes widened, and then he gave her the lovely, sweet smile she had seen for the first time in Stefan's room. "Well," he said, "it would break all the rules of chivalry to disappoint a lady."

Elena tipped her head back and gazed at the stars for a few minutes, enjoying the cool evening breeze that brushed her hair back from her face. With Klaus and his descendants gone, with Damon calm and peaceful at her side, it was good to be able to enjoy the night.

"Does your great trust in me mean you're planning to take both Salvatore brothers for one more spin?" Damon asked, still looking up at the stars. His tone was definitely joking now, a bit rough, but Elena could hear an undercurrent of longing in it, and feel his wistfulness in the connection between them. In some ways, it would be so easy: she'd spent a long time suspended between the brothers, loving Stefan, wanting Damon. It was almost comfortable at this point to love them both. But she had grown up at least a little now, she thought, and maybe it was time to shut those doors forever, to choose her true path.

"You'll always have a part of me, Damon." She pressed her hand to her chest, where she could feel the slight tug and ebb of the bond between them. "But I want my forever to be with Stefan."

"I know," Damon said. He turned to face her and ghosted his hand lightly across her hair, down over her shoulders. "I think maybe it's time for me to move on. There's a big world out there, and there are still a few places I haven't seen. Maybe there's somewhere else I belong."

Unexpectedly, Elena found herself crying, big, fat, babyish tears running hot over her cheeks and dripping off her chin. "You don't have to go," she choked. "I don't want you to leave."

"Hey," Damon said, startled, and moved closer, running his hand gently across her back. "I won't be gone forever. I think this slightly alarming thing between us" - he touched his chest lightly - "means I'll never be too far away."

"Oh, Damon," Elena choked.

Damon looked down at her seriously for a long moment. "It's the right thing, you know," he said. "Not that I've ever been particularly interested in doing the right thing. I've got a sinking feeling I'm about to learn."

He leaned down and brushed a light kiss across her mouth. His lips were soft and cold, and to Elena, they tasted like memories. Pulling back, he stood with her for a moment longer under the stars, his perfect pale skin shining in their light, his eyes gleaming, his velvety hair as dark as the night around them.

"Good-bye, Elena," he said. "Don't forget me."

Chapter 44

Concentrating, Stefan carefully knotted his tie. He looked, he knew, sleek and elegant in his best suit, a good match for lovely, golden Elena.

He'd made reservations at the nicest restaurant in town for a welcome-back dinner from her visit to Fell's Church to see Aunt Judith and Margaret. Klaus was dead; Damon was saved. Just for once, there was time for Elena to be a college girl, have fun without doom hanging over her.

So: French food. Roses on the table. A night of forgetting their pasts and instead enjoying the present together, like any couple in love. He ran down the two flights of stairs between their rooms, feeling light with happiness.

Elena's door was ajar. He tapped on it lightly, then pushed it inward, expecting to see Meredith and Bonnie bustling around Elena, helping her get ready for their big night.

Instead, the room was lit with candles, hundreds of tiny flames reflecting from the windows and mirrors to create a dazzling, glimmering play of light. Meredith and Bonnie were nowhere in sight and even their stuff seemed to have disappeared. The air was full of sweet scents, and Stefan saw scattered flowers among the candles: orchids and gardenias, orange blossoms and asters. In the language of flowers, all symbols of love in its many forms.

In the middle of the room stood Elena, dressed in a simple white sundress with lace detailing, waiting for him. He didn't think he had ever seen her look more beautiful. Her creamy skin, touched with just the faintest wash of pink, her jewel-blue eyes, her golden hair, all caught the light of the candle flames, shining as if she were an angel. But most beautiful of all were not her features but the look of pure, open love on her face. When her gaze met Stefan's, hers was full of fierce joy.

"Stefan," she said quietly. "I finally know what our future will look like."

Stepping forward into the room, Stefan came straight to her. However Elena saw their future, he would be there beside her, without question. He had learned long ago that his happiness, his life, was intimately tied to this one human girl, this one girl in all the world. He would go anywhere she wanted him to.

Elena took his hand and clasped it. "I love you, Stefan," she said. "That's the most important thing. I need to make sure you know it, because I haven't always treated you as well as I should have."

Stefan's voice caught in his throat, but he smiled at her. "I love you, too," he managed to say. "Always, always, always."

"The first time I saw you - remember that? Back outside the main office in high school - you just brushed past me without even looking. Right then, I decided that I was going to have you, that you were going to fall in love with me. No boy was going to treat me like that." Elena smiled a wry, self-deprecating smile. "But then you saved me from Tyler, and you were so sad and noble and good. I wanted to protect you, the way you'd protected me. And when we kissed, the whole world fell away."

Stefan made a soft sound, remembering, and his hand turned in Elena's grasp, twining their fingers together.

"You've saved me so many times and in so many ways, Stefan," Elena went on, "and I've saved you. We've plotted and planned together, we've fought and defeated all our enemies. There isn't anyone who loves me the way you do, and I could never love anyone else as much as I love you. I know what I want now. I want to be with you forever."

She let go of Stefan's hand and reached for something on the desk beside her that he hadn't noticed before. It was a silver goblet, intricately worked with threads of gold and set with jewels, a precious and beautiful item. The goblet was full of what looked like pure, clear water. Except the water was glowing with a shining light. He glanced up at Elena in sudden comprehension, and she nodded.

"The water from the Fountain of Eternal Youth and Life," she said solemnly. "I've always known that the day would come when I would drink it. I don't want to live, or die, without you. There's enough left for the others, if they want it someday. They might not. I don't know if I'd want forever, if it wasn't forever with you. I can't - " Her voice broke. "I can't imagine ever leaving you behind. But I had to wait until I was ready, until I was the person I wanted to be for the rest of forever. And now I know who I am." Elena raised the goblet to Stefan. "If . . . if you'll have me, Stefan, if you'll have me forever, I want to spend it with you."

Stefan's heart was overflowing, and he felt a hot tear run down his cheek. He had spent so long in the darkness alone, so long as a monster. And then this creature of life and light had found him, and he hadn't been alone anymore.

"Yes," he said joyfully, "Elena, all I want out of forever is you."

Elena raised the goblet and drank deeply, and then turned a happy, laughing face up to meet Stefan's kiss. Her joy resonated through him as their lips connected, and he sent his own back to her. Forever, they both felt, forever.

Stefan clung to her, almost overwhelmed. After more than five hundred years lost and wandering, he realized, he finally felt he was home for good.

Chapter 45

Dear Diary,

Forever.

The prospect should feel scary, I suppose: my time on Earth has been so relatively short. A lot has happened to me, more than most people get to experience in a lifetime, but I still have so much to learn and do.

But I'm sure of Stefan, and I'm sure about forever. All I can feel is overwhelming, riotous joy.

It's not even just Stefan and me, and the prospect of eternity to learn all the little things we don't know about each other, even yet: What was the color of Stefan's mother's eyes? What will his lips taste like, on a bright spring morning two hundred years from now? Where would he go, if he could go anywhere? And we can go everywhere. We'll have time.

That's so much of my happiness, but it's not all of it.

I finally know who I am. It's ironic in a lot of ways that I should be a Guardian, when I loathed and feared them with such passion. But an Earthly Guardian is different; Andres has taught me that: I can be compassionate and loving and human, and I can use my Guardian Powers to protect my home, to protect the people I care about, to keep evil from destroying the innocent.

There's my bond with Damon, too. Finally I know how I can care for Damon and love Stefan at the same time. There's a connection between Damon and me that'll last forever, that will keep him from being consumed by the darkness that has always threatened him. No matter where he is, I'll hold a piece of him and he'll have a piece of me.

Through everything, Stefan will be by my side.

And with us will be all my beloved friends, each of them so powerful and good, each in their own way. I love them all so much.

I'm trembling, but it's with anticipation. I'm not afraid anymore. I can't wait to see what the future holds, for all of us.