The Vampire Diaries #9: Moonsong (The Hunters #2)（2012）

Moonsong is the second book in The Hunters trilogy and the ninth book in The Vampire Diaries novel series. It was released March 13, 2012.

Summary

Life is better than ever, Elena and her friends can’t wait to attend Dalcrest College. But when students start to disappear from campus, suddenly every new acquaintance is a potential enemy. Then Elena uncovers a long-hidden secret, one that shocks her to the core, and realizes that the darkness has followed her from Fell’s Church. But will it be Stefan or Damon who catches her when she falls?

In stores March 13, 2012. L. J. Smith said she wanted this book to be about the group going to Dalcrest College. Damon would help Meredith to control her bloodlust, although that seems to have been resolved in the ghostwritten books. In an email, L. J. Smith wrote:

"I wanted to write Moonsong, and give Bonnie an admirer who is just as sweet and even more naïve than she is—a pure white wolf with radiant blue eyes, who happens to be a werewolf with moonlight colored hair and the same blue eyes when he’s human. I wanted to show Damon’s surprising reaction to Xander the good werewolf (not at all happy about it—so much that he “accidentally” almost kills the poor innocent wolf).

I also wanted to show how Damon rescues Bonnie from a vicious wolf-pack attack, and then let her fly away with him. And I wanted to show how Bonnie, who knows a little medicine from her sister Mary, helps Damon deliver Caroline’s twin babies when she goes into labor deep in the woods. But that’s one scene that I would have had to fight tooth and nail for, because even the glow that Damon and Bonnie share at seeing new life come into the world wouldn’t be enough for them to call it decent. They would undoubtedly have tried to make me cut it. But I still want to write it, so badly.

The main antagonist of this book was Ethan Crane.


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Chapter One

Dear Diary,

I'm so scared.

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

Why?

Simply because I'm leaving home.

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

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

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

I suppose I'm scared partly because these last few weeks of summer have been wonderful. We packed all the enjoyment we would have been having these past few months - if it hadn't been for fighting the kitsune, traveling to the Dark Dimension, battling the jealousy phantom, and all the other Extremely Not Fun things we've done - into three glorious weeks. We had picnics and sleepovers and went swimming and shopping. We took a trip to the county fair, where Matt won Bonnie a stuffed tiger and turned bright red when she squealed and leaped into his arms. Stefan even kissed me on the top of the Ferris wheel, just like any normal guy might kiss his girlfriend on a beautiful summer night.

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

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

Even Damon...

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

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

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

He and Stefan seem to have come to an understanding. They know I love them both, and yet they haven't let jealousy come between them.

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

Aunt Judith called up, sounding impatient, "Elena!"

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

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

"Elena! Your ride is waiting!"

Aunt Judith was definitely getting stressed out now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stefan stood in the doorway, watching her.

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

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

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

"Okay. I'll be right down."

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

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

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

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

She wasn't leaving, not really. She was moving forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now, I know college students have a lot of expenses," he said. "And we don't want you to have to worry about money, so you've got an account at the student store, but..." He opened his wallet and handed Elena a fistful of bills. "Just in case."

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

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

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

"I'm going to miss you so much, Meggie," Elena said, pulling her close, her eyes filling with tears again. Her little sister's dandelion-soft hair brushed against Elena's cheek.

"But I'll be back for Thanksgiving, and maybe you can come visit me on campus. I'd love to show off my little sister to all my new friends."

Margaret swallowed. "I don't want you to go," she said in a small miserable voice. "You're always leaving."

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

Caleb Small wood remembered, and sometimes Margaret's innocent face looked strangely knowing.

"Elena," Aunt Judith said again, her voice thick and weepy, "you'd better get going."

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

"I'll call you tonight and let you know how I'm settling in." Aunt Judith nodded, and Elena gave her another quick kiss before wiping her eyes and opening the front door.

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

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

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

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

Damon's brilliant smile made something inside her stretch and purr like a panther recognizing its mate.

Both pairs of eyes watched her lovingly, possessively.

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

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

Chapter Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

"Better than if I'd gone to Harvard," she murmured.

"Much closer."

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

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

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

They needed to protect their home.

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

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

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

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

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

"What're you thinking?" His voice was a low murmur.

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

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

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

"Bye," she said through the open window. "I'll call you tonight. Every night."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damon rolled his eyes and drawled to Stefan, "Well, if you have to play human and attend school again, little brother, at least you didn't choose too hideous a spot. And, of course, the company will make up for every inconvenience," he added gallantly with a glance at Elena.

"But I still think that it's a waste of time."

"And yet, here you are," Elena said.

"I'm only here to keep you out of trouble," Damon retorted.

"You'll have to excuse Damon," Stefan said to Elena lightly. "He doesn't understand. He was thrown out of university back in the old days."

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

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

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

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

"Here we are," Stefan said, pulling up to an ivy-covered building. "Pruitt House."

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

"It's supposed to be the nicest dorm on campus," Elena said.

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

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

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

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

He had seemed almost lonely to Elena for that second - which was ridiculous, Damon was never lonely - but that fleeting impression was enough to make her say impetuously, "You could come to school with us, Damon. It's not too late, not if you used your Power to enroll . You could live on campus with us."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you all right?" a low voice asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the room was awful y small .

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

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

"Great, thanks - " Matt started to say, but Christopher's dad, having finally managed to wedge the TV on top of one of the dressers, turned to look at Matt.

"Hey," he said. "It just hit me - if you're from Fell 's Church, you guys were the state champions last year. You must be some player. What position do you play?"

"Uh, thanks," Matt said. "I play quarterback."

"First string?" Christopher's dad asked him.

Matt blushed. "Yeah."

Now they were all staring at him.

"Wow," Christopher said. "No offense, man, but why are you going to Dalcrest? I mean, I'm excited just to play college ball , but you could have gone, like, Division One." Matt shrugged uncomfortably. "Um, I had to stay close to home."

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

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

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

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

"What's that, dear?" Christopher's mom asked curiously.

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

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

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

"I guess that's fate telling us the bottom bunk's yours," Christopher said amiably.

"Yeah," Matt said distractedly, his heart pounding hard.

"Excuse me for a minute, okay?"

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

Fortis Aeturnus

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

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

Tell no one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Four

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

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

"I like it," Meredith said, wiggling her toes.

"Careful! I don't want polish on my new bedspread," Elena warned.

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

"Wait till you meet him."

Meredith smiled at Bonnie. "Isn't it an amazing feeling?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How romantic," Bonnie said happily.

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

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

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

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

"I think we should go out there," she said.

"Are you kidding me?" Bonnie asked from behind her.

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

"Well, quick, put on some jeans," Meredith said.

"But why?" asked Bonnie plaintively.

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

"Bonnie," Elena said patiently, "we have a responsibility to check out everything that's going on around here. We might just want to be normal college students, but we know the truth about the world - the truth other people don't realize, about vampires and werewolves and monsters - and we need to make sure that what's going on out there isn't part of that truth. If it's a human problem, the police will deal with it. But if it's something else, it's our responsibility."

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

"And then we'll be sorry," Meredith said agreeably.

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

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

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

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

Elena smiled at him appealingly. "We were just on our way to the student center, and we saw everyone out here. What's going on?"

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

The security officer stepped sideways to block her view.

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

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

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

"This time?" Bonnie asked, frowning.

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

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

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

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

"What have you got in there?"

"Pool cue," she lied. "We're going to play pool in the student center."

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

"We will ," Elena said sweetly, her hand on Meredith's arm. Meredith opened her mouth to ask another question, but Elena was pulling her away from the officer and toward the student center.

"Hey," Meredith objected quietly, when they were out of earshot. "I wasn't done asking questions."

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

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

"That was creepy, right?" Bonnie said. "Do you think" - she paused, and Meredith could see her swallow - "do you think something real y bad happened?"

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

"Do you think someone attacked her?" Elena asked.

Meredith shot her a significant look. "Maybe," she said.

"Or maybe something did."

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Five

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

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

She was coming up on the area the police had been searching the night before, still blocked off with yellow tape.

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

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

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

"Honestly, Bonnie McCullough, you're a moron," Bonnie muttered to herself. A guy passing her in the other direction overheard her and snickered, making Bonnie blush furiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, on the other hand...

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

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

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

And, Well, it had killed her, hadn't it?

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

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

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

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

"Bonnie!" he said enthusiastically. "Hey, I'm real y glad to see you. I was thinking about you earlier."

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

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

"You were?" Bonnie asked again, and this time didn't even worry about how she sounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stefan, a vampire.

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

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

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

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

"Nice punch," said a voice behind her.

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

"Thanks," said Meredith, surprised.

The girl strolled into the room. "What are you," she asked, "a black belt?"

"Yes," Meredith said, and couldn't help adding proudly,

"in taekwondo and karate."

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

"Sure," she said, her attitude light. "Show me what you've got."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Six

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fortis aeturnus," hissed the person on his left like a password, his breath warm on Matt's ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ethan walked into the crowd and stopped next to Matt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matt straightened his shoulders and held his head high.

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

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

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

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

You must keep your involvement with the society secret.

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

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

Chapter Seven

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

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

Lazy and clueless, Elena wrote neatly in her notebook.

Dead in less than a year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know the name Gilbert, you see," he said, "and the more I look at you, the more you remind me of someone - two someones - who were once very dear friends of mine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you." Elena bit her lip. "They never talked much about their college years. Maybe as I got older, they would have..." Her voice trailed off, and she realized with dismay that her eyes had filled with tears.

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

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

"Certainly, certainly," Professor Campbell said cheerful y. "Come to my office hours, and I'll tell you all about our hijinks back in the old days. I'm there every Monday and Friday from three to five, and I'll put out a welcome mat for you. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Serve you some of the horrible department coffee."

"Thank you, Professor Campbell ," Elena said. "I'd love that."

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

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

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

But Elena wouldn't like that.

She was so naive, dammit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damon wasn't the one who wanted to be here. No, the "let's all join hands and dance off to further our educations together" idea wasn't his, and he'd treated it with the proper scorn. He wasn't Stefan. He wasn't going to waste his time pretending to be one of the mortal children.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially Elena.

Chapter Eight

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

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

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

Once Elena finally made herself a salad, he led her to the empty table he'd spotted.

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

Elena broke the kiss and answered his unspoken question.

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

"That's great," Stefan said, pleased for her. "How was the class?"

"It was all right," Elena said, beginning to eat her salad.

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

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

Damon was right. Stefan didn't belong here; he was just playing a role, again. Killing some of his limitless time. But Elena - he looked at her, her shining blue eyes fixed on him - she did belong here. She deserved the chance at a normal life, and he knew she wouldn't have come to college without him.

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

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

Stefan closed his mouth and turned his head to listen.

"Who's Daniel Greenwater?" someone else asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Remember him from orientation? He seemed happy to be here. I don't think he would have left, not of his own free will ."

Elena stared at him, her wide eyes apprehensive now.

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

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

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

Stefan paused, staring at a flyer stuck to a tree by the cafeteria. Missing Student, the caption said, with a picture of a girl beneath it. "Promise me you'll be careful, Elena," he said. "Tell Meredith and Bonnie, too. And Matt. None of you should be wandering around campus by yourselves. Not at night, anyway."

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

He wrapped his arm around her waist, wanting to hold her, to keep her safe. "Why don't we go out tonight?" he said. "I've got a study group to go to, but it shouldn't last too long. We could go off campus for dinner. Maybe you could stay over tonight? I'd feel better if I knew you were safe." Elena looked at him, her eyes suddenly sparkling with laughter. "Oh, as long as that's the only reason you'd want me in your room," she said, smiling. "I'd hate to think you had designs on my virtue."

Stefan thought of Elena's creamy skin and silky golden hair, of her warmth, the rich wine of her blood. The idea of her in his arms again, without her aunt Judith or his landlady, Mrs. Flowers, down the hall , was intoxicating.

"Of course not," he murmured, bowing his head toward hers. "I have no designs. I live only to serve you." He kissed Elena again, sending all his love and longing to her.

Above their heads, Stefan heard a strident cawing and the flapping of wings, and, his lips still against Elena's, he frowned. Elena seemed to sense his sudden tension and pulled away from him, following his gaze toward the black crow wheeling above them.

Damon. Watching them, watching Elena, as always.

"Excellence." Ethan's voice rang out across the outdoor basketball court where the pledges were gathered. Dawn was breaking, and there was no one around except for Ethan and the sleepy-faced pledges. "As you know from our first meeting, each of you here exemplifies the peak of one or more types of achievement. But that's not enough." He paused, looking from face to face. "It's not enough for each of you to have a piece of the best. You can encompass all these attributes in yourself. Over the course of the pledge period, you will discover worlds inside yourselves that you've never imagined." Matt shuffled his sneakers against the asphalt and tried to keep the skeptical expression off his face. Expecting him to achieve the heights of academic or artistic success, he knew, was a long shot.

He wasn't particularly modest, but he was realistic, and he could list his best qualities: athlete, good friend, honorable guy. He wasn't stupid, either, but if excelling in intellect and creativity were prerequisites for being part of the Vitale Society, he might as Wellgive up now.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced around at his fellow pledges. It was reassuring to see that most of them were wearing expressions of barely restrained panic: apparently "encompassing all these attributes" wasn't something they'd reckoned on either. Chloe, the cute round-faced girl he'd noticed at the first gathering, caught his eye and winked, just a quick brush of her lashes, and he smiled back, feeling oddly happy.

"Today," Ethan announced, "we will work on athleticism." Matt sighed with relief. Athleticism he could do.

Al around him, he saw faces fall . The intellectuals, the leaders, the budding creative geniuses - they weren't looking forward to testing their athletic prowess. A low rebellious murmur sWelled among them.

"Don't sulk," said Ethan, laughing. "I promise you, by the time you become full members of the society, each of you will have reached your peak of physical perfection. For the first time, you will feel what it is to be truly alive." His eyes glittered with possibility.

Ethan went on to outline the pledges' task. They were about to embark on a fifteen-mile run, with several obstacles along the way. "Be prepared to get dirty," he said cheerful y. "But it wil be wonderful. When you finish, you'll have achieved something new. You are welcome to assist one another. But be aware: if you do not complete the run in three hours, you will not be invited to continue to the next step in the pledging process." He smiled. "Only the best can become members of the Vitale Society." Matt looked around and saw that the pledges, even those who looked like they had never left the science lab or the library, were retying their sneakers and stretching, wearing determined expressions.

"Holy cow," a voice beside him said. It was a nice voice, with a real twang to it, a voice that came from somewhere deeper in the South than Virginia, and Matt was smiling even before he looked around and saw that it was Chloe. "I figure you're about the only person here who isn't going to have a lot of trouble with this," she said.

She was so cute. Little dimples showed in her cheeks when she smiled, and her short dark hair fell in curls behind her ears. "Hey, I'm Matt," Matt said, grinning back at her.

"I knew that," she said cheerfully. "You're our football star."

"And you're Chloe, the amazing artist," he said.

"Oh." She blushed. "I don't know about that."

"I'd love to see your work sometime," he told her, and her smile widened.

"Any tips for today?" she asked. "I never run unless I'm about to miss the bus, and I think I'm about to regret that." Her face was so appealing that Matt momentarily felt like hugging her. Instead, he frowned thoughtfully up at the sky. "Under these kinds of conditions," he said, "the best thing to do is incline your arms at a fifty-degree angle to the ground and run with a light bounding step." Chloe stared at him for a minute and then giggled.

"You're teasing me," she said. "That's not fair. I have no idea about this stuff."

"I'll help you," Matt said, feeling good. "We can do it together."

Chapter Nine

Where r u? Elena texted impatiently. Stefan was supposed to meet her at her dorm room more than twenty minutes ago. Surely his study group was over by now? She was starving.

She paced around the room, occasional y glancing at the dark tree branches beyond the windows. It wasn't like Stefan to be late.

She checked her phone. It was too soon to try to reach him again.

Outside, something dark moved, and she gasped.

Then she shook her head. It was just the branches of the trees out there, waving in the breeze. She moved closer, trying to see past the reflections on the glass. Their room was on the third floor; there wouldn't be anyone sitting that high up. At least not anyone human. Elena shuddered.

"Elena," said a cool, clear voice from outside.

With a squeak that sounded like a frightened rabbit, Elena jerked backward, pressing one hand to her pounding heart. After a moment, she stepped up to the window and threw it open.

"Damon," she said. "You scared me to death. What are you doing out there?"

There was a flash of white teeth in the shadows. A mocking tone rang through his answer. "Waiting for you to invite me into your room, of course."

"You don't need an invitation," Elena said. "You helped me move in."

"I know," Damon said, smiling. "I'm being a gentleman." Elena hesitated. She trusted Damon, of course she did, but this seemed so intimate. Damon outside in the dark, Elena alone in her bedroom, neither of her roommates around. He'd been in her room at home, but Aunt Judith and Robert had been just down the hall . She wondered if Stefan would mind her being alone here with Damon, but she shook off the thought. He trusted Elena, that was what mattered.

"Elena," Damon's voice was soft but insistent. "Let me in before I fall ."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "You'd never fall . And if you did, you'd fly. But you can come in anyway." With a soft whoosh, faster than her eye could follow, Damon was suddenly beside her. She had to step back a pace. Eyes and hair as dark as night, pale luminous skin, perfectly cut features. He even smelled good. His lips looked so soft....

Elena caught herself leaning toward him, her own lips parting, and pulled away. "Stop it," she said.

"I'm not doing anything," Damon said innocently. When Elena arched a skeptical eyebrow at him, he shrugged and shot her a brief, brilliant smile. There, Elena thought. That's why Stefan might mind Damon being here. "Oh, all right.

I'm only teasing you."

He looked around the room and quirked an eyebrow of his own. "Why, Elena," he said, "I'm almost disappointed.

You and your friends are running so true to type here." Elena followed his eyes. Bonnie's side of the room was a mess, a tumble of stuffed animals, rejected outfits, and Dalcrest paraphernalia. In contrast, Meredith's area was rigidly tidy, books lined up alphabetically, a single silver pen on the desk next to her slim silver laptop, her bed neatly draped in a silk duvet in subtly patterned gray and white.

Her dresser and closet were closed, but inside, Elena knew, Meredith's clothes would be organized by type, color, and season. Damon was right: just by looking at their parts of the room, you could tell that Meredith was rational, sophisticated, carefully controlled, and private, while Bonnie was fluffy, fun-loving, and disorganized.

What about Elena's own things? What did they say about her? She looked over her part of the room with a critical eye. Framed art prints from her favorite exhibits, her silver brush and comb lined up on her dresser, deep-blue sheets that she knew set off her eyes and hair. Someone who held on to what she liked and didn't change easily?

Someone who was very aware of what suited her? She wasn't sure.

Damon smiled at her again, without the mocking edge this time. "Don't give it a second's thought, princess," he said affectionately. "You're more than your possessions."

"Thanks," Elena said shortly. "So, did you just drop in my window to say hello?"

He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They were standing very close together, and Elena backed away a little. "I thought maybe, now that you're a college girl, we could go out tonight and have some fun."

"Fun?" Elena said, still distracted by his mouth. "What kind of fun?"

"Oh, you know," he said, "just a little dinner, a few drinks.

Friend stuff. Nothing too daring."

"Right," Elena said firmly. "It sounds nice. But I can't tonight. Stefan and I are going out to dinner."

"Of course," Damon said. He gave her a firm little nod and what was so obviously supposed to be a supportive smile that she had to stifle a giggle. Supportive, friendly, and unassuming were not natural looks on Damon's face.

He was trying so very hard to be her friend even though they all knew there was more than that between them.

Since he had died and come back, he had been trying to change his relationships with Stefan and with her, she knew, to be with them in a way he never had before. It couldn't be easy on poor Damon, trying to be good. He was out of practice.

Elena's phone chimed. She read the text from Stefan: I'm sorry. The study group's running late. I think it'll be at least another hour. Meet later?

"Problem?" Damon was watching her, the same innocent, friendly smile on his face, and affection for him washed over Elena. Damon was her friend. Why shouldn't she go out with him?

"Change of plans," she said briskly. "We'll go out, but just for a little while. I need to be back here to meet Stefan in an hour." She texted Stefan quickly to let him know she was going to grab some food and looked up to see a triumphant smile on Damon's face as he reached to take her arm.

Bonnie walked across campus, practical y skipping in time to the happy tune in her head. A date with Zander, la la la la la. It was about time, too. She'd been eagerly anticipating seeing Zander again all week, and although they'd talked on the phone, she hadn't laid eyes on him around campus at all , even though of course she'd been looking.

At last she was about to see him. La la la la la. Lovely, gorgeous Zander.

She had on jeans and a sort of silvery, draping top that at least made it look like she might have some cleavage. It was a good outfit, she thought, understated enough for just hanging out but also a little bit special. Just in case they decided to go out clubbing or something at the last minute.

Zander hadn't told her what he'd planned, just asked her to meet him outside the science building. La la la la la, she hummed.

Bonnie's footsteps slowed, and the tune in her head died off as she saw flickering lights illuminating a group of people up ahead. They were gathered in the courtyard in front of one of the dorms.

Approaching, she realized it was a group of girls holding candles. The wavering light from the candles sent shadows across their serious faces. Propped against the wall of the dorm were three blown-up photos, two girls and a guy. All across the grass in front of them were heaped flowers, letters, and teddy bears.

Hesitant to break the silence, Bonnie touched the arm of one of the girls. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"It's a candlelight vigil for the missing people," the girl whispered back.

Missing people? Bonnie scanned the faces in the photographs. Young, smiling, about her age. "Are they all students here?" she asked, horrified. "What happened to them?"

"Nobody knows," the girl said, her gaze serious. "They just vanished. You didn't hear about this?" Bonnie's stomach dropped. She knew that a girl was attacked - or something - on the quad the first night, but she hadn't known about any disappearances. No wonder her gut instinct had warned her to be scared walking across campus the other day. She could have been in danger.

"No," she said slowly. "I didn't hear anything." She dropped her eyes and bowed her head, silent as she sent out a fervent hope that these three happy-looking people would be found, safe and sound.

In the distance, a siren began to wail.

"Something's happened."

"Do you think someone was attacked?"

A babble of frightened voices rose as the sirens got closer. A girl near Bonnie began to sob, a hurt, scared sound.

"All right, what's the trouble here?" said a new, authoritative voice, and Bonnie looked up to see two campus police officers shouldering their way through the crowd.

"We ... uh..." The girl who had spoken to Bonnie gestured at the photos and flowers against the wall . "We were having a vigil. For the missing people."

"What are those sirens for?" another girl asked, her voice rising.

"Nothing to worry about," said the officer, but his face softened as he looked at the sobbing girl. Bonnie realized with a slight shock that he wasn't much older than she was.

"Miss?" he said to the crying girl. "We'll help you get home." His partner looked around at the crowd. "It's time to break things up and head inside," he said sternly. "Stick together and be careful."

"I thought you said there was nothing to worry about," said another girl angrily. "What aren't you telling us?"

"There's nothing you don't know already," the man said patiently. "People are missing. You can never be too careful."

If there's nothing to worry about, why do we have to be careful? Bonnie wondered, but she bit back the words and hurried away down the path, toward the science building where Zander had suggested they meet.

The idea of trying to have a vision, to see if she could learn anything about the missing people, nudged at Bonnie's mind, but she pushed it away. She hated that.

She hated the loss of control when she slid into one of her visions.

It was unlikely to work, anyway. Her visions had always been about people she knew, about immediate problems facing them. She didn't know any of the missing people.

She bit her lip and walked faster. The excitement about her date had fizzled out, and she didn't feel safe now. But at least if she got to Zander, she wouldn't be alone.

When she arrived at the science building, though, Zander wasn't there. Bonnie hesitated and looked around nervously. This corner of campus seemed to be deserted.

She tried the door of the science building, but it was locked. Wellof course it was - there weren't any classes this late. Bonnie shook the handle of the front door in frustration. She reached into her bag, then groaned as she realized she'd left her phone back in her room.

Suddenly, she felt very exposed. The campus police had said to stick together, not to wander around alone at night, but here she was, all by herself. A cool breeze ruffled her hair and she shivered. It was getting awful y dark.

"Bonnie. Psst, Bonnie!"

Zander's voice. But where was he?

Bonnie saw nothing but the dark quad, streetlights throwing little circles of light on the paths. Above her, leaves rustled in the wind.

"Bonnie! Up here."

Looking up, she finally spotted Zander on the roof, peering down over the side at her, his pale hair almost glowing in the moonlight.

"What're you doing up there?" she called to him, confused.

"Come on up," he invited, pointing to the fire-escape ladder on the side of the building. It was lowered to just a couple of feet above the ground.

"Really?" said Bonnie dubiously. She walked over to the fire escape. She could make it onto the ladder, she was pretty sure, but she was going to look clumsy and awkward scrambling up on it. And what if she got caught? She hadn't actually read the campus regulations thoroughly, but wouldn't climbing the fire escape up to the roof of a closed building be against the rules?

"Come on, Bonnie," Zander called. His feet clanging loudly against the iron steps, he ran down the fire escape, shimmied down the ladder, and leaped to the ground, landing catlike on his feet beside her. He went down on one knee and held his hands out together. "I'll boost you up so you'll be able to reach."

Bonnie swallowed, then stepped up onto Zander's hands and stretched for the ladder. Once she swung her leg up onto the bottom rung, it was a piece of cake, although the slightly rusty metal was rough against her hands. She spared a moment to thank all the powers of the universe that she had decided to wear jeans rather than a skirt tonight.

Zander trailed behind her up the fire escape from one landing to another until final y they arrived on the roof.

"Are we allowed to be up here?" Bonnie asked nervously.

"Well," Zander said slowly, "probably not. But I come up here all the time, and no one's ever told me not to." He smiled that warm, wonderful smile at her and added, "This is one of my favorite places."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, it means it's a time of endings," Bonnie said. "It's al about dying and sleep. The Druid year begins again after Halloween."

"Hmm." Zander was still watching her intently. "How do you know so much, Bonnie McCullough?" A little smile played around his mouth.

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

"Interesting," Zander said softly. His tone grew lighter.

"So you see things, do you?"

"I really do," Bonnie said, seriously, staring back at him.

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

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

With a wrench, Bonnie pulled her eyes away from Zander's. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "That was weird. I think I almost fell asleep for a minute."

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

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

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

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

"Zander," Bonnie said, horrified. "Come down! You might fall !"

"We won't fall ," Zander said, smiling down at her. "Climb on up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's all right," he said soothingly. "It's amazing, Bonnie, I promise. Just let yourself be. Life isn't worth living if you don't take risks."

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

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

She had never felt so alive.