The Fury Read online

  Stefan shook his head. “How can you even suggest that? After what happened …” His voice trailed off.

  “With Katherine? I can say it, if you can’t. Katherine made a foolish choice, and she paid the price for it. Elena is different; she knows her own mind. But it doesn’t matter if you agree,” he added, overriding Stefan’s new protests. “The fact is that she’s weak now, and she needs blood. I’m going to see that she gets it, and then I’m going to find who did this to her. You can come or not. Suit yourself.”

  He stood, drawing Elena up with him. Let’s go.”

  Elena came willingly, pleased to be moving. The woods were interesting at night; she’d never noticed that before. Owls were sending their mournful, haunting cries through the trees, and deer mice scuttled away from her gliding feet. The air was colder in patches, as it froze first in the hollows and dips of the wood. She found it was easy to move silently beside Damon through the leaf litter; it was just a matter of being careful where she stepped. She didn’t look back to see if Stefan was following them.

  She recognized the place where they left the wood. She had been there earlier today. Now, however, there was some sort of frenzied activity going on: red and blue lights flashing on cars, spotlights framing the dark huddled shapes of people. Elena looked at them curiously. Several were familiar. That woman, for instance, with the thin harrowed face and the anxious eyes—Aunt Judith? And the tall man beside her—Aunt Judith’s fiancé, Robert?

  There should be someone else with them, Elena thought. A child with hair as pale as Elena’s own. But try as she might, she could not conjure up a name.

  The two girls with their arms around each other, standing in a circle of officials, those two she remembered though. The little red-haired one who was crying was Bonnie. The taller one with the sweep of dark hair, Meredith.

  “But she’s not in the water,” Bonnie was saying to a man in a uniform. Her voice trembled on the edge of hysteria. “We saw Stefan get her out. I’ve told you and told you.”

  “And you left him here with her?”

  “We had to. The storm was getting worse, and there was something coming—”

  “Never mind that,” Meredith broke in. She sounded only slightly calmer than Bonnie. “Stefan said that if he—had to leave her, he’d leave her lying under the willow trees.”

  “And just where is Stefan now?” another uniformed man asked.

  “We don’t know. We went back to get help. He probably followed us. But as for what happened to—to Elena …” Bonnie turned back and buried her face in Meredith’s shoulder.

  They’re upset about me, Elena realized. How silly of them. I can clear that up, anyway. She started forward into the light, but Damon pulled her back. She looked at him, wounded.

  “Not like that. Pick the ones you want, and we’ll draw them out,” he said.

  “Want for what?”

  “For feeding, Elena. You’re a hunter now. Those are your prey.”

  Elena pushed her tongue against a canine tooth doubtfully. Nothing out there looked like food to her. Still, because Damon said so, she was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Whichever you think,” she said obligingly.

  Damon tilted his head back, eyes narrowed, scanning the scene like an expert evaluating a famous painting. “Well, how about a couple of nice paramedics?”

  “No,” said a voice behind them.

  Damon barely glanced over his shoulder at Stefan. “Why not?”

  “Because there’ve been enough attacks. She may need human blood, but she doesn’t have to hunt for it.” Stefan’s face was shut and hostile, but there was an air of grim determination about him.

  “There’s another way?” Damon asked ironically.

  “You know there is. Find someone who’s willing—or who can be influenced to be willing. Someone who would do it for Elena and who is strong enough to deal with this, mentally.”

  “And I suppose you know where we can find such a paragon of virtue?”

  “Bring her to the school. I’ll meet you there,” Stefan said, and disappeared.

  They left the activity still bustling, lights flashing, people milling. As they went, Elena noticed a strange thing. In the middle of the river, illuminated by the spotlights, was an automobile. It was completely submerged except for the front fender, which stuck out of the water.

  What a stupid place to park a car, she thought, and followed Damon back into the woods.

  Stefan was beginning to feel again.

  It hurt. He’d thought he was through with hurting, through with feeling anything. When he’d pulled Elena’s lifeless body out of the dark water, he’d thought that nothing could ever hurt again because nothing could match that moment.

  He’d been wrong.

  He stopped and stood with his good hand braced against a tree, head down, breathing deeply. When the red mists cleared and he could see again, he went on, but the burning ache in his chest continued undiminished. Stop thinking about her, he told himself, knowing that it was useless.

  But she wasn’t truly dead. Didn’t that count for something? He’d thought he would never hear her voice again, never feel her touch. …

  And now, when she touched him, she wanted to kill him.

  He stopped again, doubling over, afraid he was going to be sick.

  Seeing her like this was worse torture than seeing her lying cold and dead. Maybe that was why Damon had let him live. Maybe this was Damon’s revenge.

  And maybe Stefan should just do what he’d planned to do after killing Damon. Wait until dawn and take off the silver ring that protected him from sunlight. Stand bathing in the fiery embrace of those rays until they burned the flesh from his bones and stopped the pain once and for all.

  But he knew he wouldn’t. As long as Elena walked the earth, he would never leave her. Even if she hated him, even if she hunted him. He would do anything he could to keep her safe.

  Stefan detoured toward the boardinghouse. He needed to clean up before he could let humans see him. In his room, he washed the blood from his face and neck and examined his arm. The healing process had already begun, and with concentration he could accelerate it still further. He was burning up his Powers fast; the fight with his brother had already weakened him. But this was important. Not because of the pain—he scarcely noticed that—but because he needed to be fit.

  Damon and Elena were waiting outside the school. He could feel his brother’s impatience and Elena’s wild new presence there in the dark.

  “This had better work,” Damon said.

  Stefan said nothing. The school auditorium was another center of commotion. People ought to have been enjoying the Founders’ Day dance; in fact, those who had remained through the storm were pacing around or gathered in small groups talking. Stefan looked in the open door, searching with his mind for one particular presence.

  He found it. A blond head was bent over a table in the corner.

  Matt.

  Matt straightened and looked around, puzzled. Stefan willed him to come outside. You need some fresh air, he thought, insinuating the suggestion into Matt’s subconscious. You feel like just stepping out for a moment.

  To Damon, standing invisible just beyond the light, he said, Take her into the school, to the photography room. She knows where it is. Don’t show yourselves until I say. Then he backed away and waited for Matt to appear.

  Matt came out, his drawn face turned up to the moonless sky. He started violently when Stefan spoke to him.

  “Stefan! You’re here!” Desperation, hope, and horror struggled for dominance on his face. He hurried over to Stefan. “Did they—bring her back yet? Is there any news?”

  “What have you heard?”

  Matt stared at him a moment before answering. “Bonnie and Meredith came in saying that Elena had gone off of Wickery Bridge in my car. They said that she …” He paused and swallowed. “Stefan, it’s not true, is it?” His eyes were pleading.

  Stefan looked away.
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  “Oh, God,” Matt said hoarsely. He turned his back on Stefan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I don’t believe it; I don’t. It can’t be true.”

  “Matt …” He touched the other boy’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry.” Matt’s voice was rough and ragged. “You must be going through hell, and here I am making it worse.”

  More than you know, thought Stefan, his hand falling away. He’d come with the intention of using his Powers to persuade Matt. Now that seemed an impossibility. He couldn’t do it, not to the first—and only—human friend he’d had in this place.

  His only other option was to tell Matt the truth. Let Matt make his own choice, knowing everything.

  “If there were something you could do for Elena right now,” he said, “would you do it?”

  Matt was too lost in emotion to ask what kind of idiotic question that was. “Anything,” he said almost angrily, rubbing a sleeve over his eyes. “I’d do anything for her.” He looked at Stefan with something like defiance, his breathing shaky.

  Congratulations, Stefan thought, feeling the sudden yawning pit in his stomach. You’ve just won yourself a trip to the Twilight Zone.

  “Come with me,” he said. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  3

  Elena and Damon were waiting in the darkroom. Stefan could sense their presence in the small annex as he pushed the door to the photography room open and led Matt inside.

  “These doors are supposed to be locked,” Matt said as Stefan flipped on the light switch.

  “They were,” said Stefan. He didn’t know what else to say to prepare Matt for what was coming. He’d never deliberately revealed himself to a human before.

  He stood, quietly, until Matt turned and looked at him. The classroom was cold and silent, and the air seemed to hang heavily. As the moment stretched out, he saw Matt’s expression slowly change from grief-numbed bewilderment to uneasiness.

  “I don’t understand,” Matt said.

  “I know you don’t.” He went on looking at Matt, purposefully dropping the barriers that concealed his Powers from human perception. He saw the reaction in Matt’s face as uneasiness coalesced into fear. Matt blinked and shook his head, his breath coming quicker.

  “What—?” he began, his voice gravelly.

  “There are probably a lot of things you’ve wondered about me,” Stefan said. “Why I wear sunglasses in strong light. Why I don’t eat. Why my reflexes are so fast.”

  Matt had his back to the darkroom now. His throat jerked as if he were trying to swallow. Stefan, with his predator’s senses, could hear Matt’s heart thudding dully.

  “No,” Matt said.

  “You must have wondered, must have asked yourself what makes me so different from everybody else.”

  “No. I mean—I don’t care. I keep out of things that aren’t my business.” Matt was edging toward the door, his eyes darting toward it in a barely perceptible movement.

  “Don’t, Matt. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let you leave now.” He could feel barely leashed need emanating from Elena in her concealment. Wait, he told her.

  Matt went still, giving up any attempt to move away. “If you want to scare me, you have,” he said in a low voice. “What else do you want?”

  Now, Stefan told Elena. He said to Matt, “Turn around.”

  Matt turned. And stifled a cry.

  Elena stood there, but not the Elena of that afternoon, when Matt had last seen her. Now her feet were bare beneath the hem of her long dress. The thin folds of white muslin that clung to her were caked with ice crystals that sparkled in the light. Her skin, always fair, had a strange wintry luster to it, and her pale gold hair seemed overlaid with a silvery sheen. But the real difference was in her face. Those deep blue eyes were heavy-lidded, almost sleepy looking, and yet unnaturally awake. And a look of sensual anticipation and hunger curled about her lips. She was more beautiful than she had been in life, but it was a frightening beauty.

  As Matt stared, paralyzed, Elena’s pink tongue came out and licked her lips.

  “Matt,” she said, lingering over the first consonant of the name. Then she smiled.

  Stefan heard Matt’s indrawn breath of disbelief, and the near sob he gave as he finally backed away from her.

  It’s all right, he said, sending the thought to Matt on a surge of Power. As Matt jerked toward him, eyes wide with shock, he added, “So now you know.”

  Matt’s expression said that he didn’t want to know, and Stefan could see the denial in his face. But Damon stepped out beside Elena and moved a little to the right, adding his presence to the charged atmosphere of the room.

  Matt was surrounded. The three of them closed in on him, inhumanly beautiful, innately menacing.

  Stefan could smell Matt’s fear. It was the helpless fear of the rabbit for the fox, the mouse for the owl. And Matt was right to be afraid. They were the hunting species; he was the hunted. Their job in life was to kill him.

  And just now instincts were getting out of control. Matt’s instinct was to panic and run, and it was triggering reflexes in Stefan’s head. When the prey ran, the predator gave chase; it was as simple as that. All three of the predators here were keyed up, on edge, and Stefan felt he couldn’t be responsible for the consequences if Matt bolted.

  We don’t want to harm you, he told Matt. It’s Elena who needs you, and what she needs won’t leave you permanently damaged. It doesn’t even have to hurt, Matt. But Matt’s muscles were still tensed to flee, and Stefan realized that the three of them were stalking him, moving closer, ready to cut off any escape.

  You said you would do anything for Elena, he reminded Matt desperately and saw him make his choice.

  Matt released his breath, the tension draining from his body. “You’re right; I did,” he whispered. He visibly braced himself before he continued. “What does she need?”

  Elena leaned forward and put a finger on Matt’s neck, tracing the yielding ridge of an artery.

  “Not that one,” Stefan said quickly. “You don’t want to kill him. Tell her, Damon.” He added, when Damon made no effort to do so, Tell her.

  “Try here, or here.” Damon pointed with clinical efficiency, holding Matt’s chin up. He was strong enough that Matt couldn’t break the grip, and Stefan felt Matt’s panic surge up again.

  Trust me, Matt. He moved in behind the human boy. But it has to be your choice, he finished, suddenly washed with compassion. You can change your mind.

  Matt hesitated and then spoke through clenched teeth. “No. I still want to help. I want to help you, Elena.”

  “Matt,” she whispered, her heavy-lashed jewel blue eyes fixed on his. Then they trailed down to his throat and her lips parted hungrily. There was no sign of the uncertainty she’d shown when Damon suggested feeding off the paramedics. “Matt.” She smiled again, and then she struck, swift as a hunting bird.

  Stefan put a flattened hand against Matt’s back to give him support. For a moment, as Elena’s teeth pierced his skin, Matt tried to recoil, but Stefan thought swiftly, Don’t fight it; that’s what causes the pain.

  As Matt tried to relax, unexpected help came from Elena, who was radiating the warm happy thoughts of a wolf cub being fed. She had gotten the biting technique right on the first try this time, and she was filled with innocent pride and growing satisfaction as the sharp pangs of hunger eased. And with appreciation for Matt, Stefan realized, with a sudden shock of jealousy. She didn’t hate Matt or want to kill him, because he posed no threat to Damon. She was fond of Matt.

  Stefan let her take as much as was safe and then intervened. That’s enough, Elena. You don’t want to injure him. But it took the combined efforts of him, Damon, and a rather groggy Matt to pry her off.

  “She needs to rest now,” Damon said. “I’m taking her someplace where she can do it safely.” He wasn’t asking Stefan; he was telling him.

  As they left, his mental voice added, for Stefan’s ears alo
ne, I haven’t forgotten the way you attacked me, brother. We’ll talk about that later.

  Stefan stared after them. He’d noted how Elena’s eyes remained locked on Damon, how she followed him without question. But she was out of danger now; Matt’s blood had given her the strength she needed. That was all Stefan had to hang on to, and he told himself it was all that mattered.

  He turned to take in Matt’s dazed expression. The human boy had sunk into one of the plastic chairs and was gazing straight ahead.

  Then his eyes lifted to Stefan’s, and they regarded each other grimly.

  “So,” Matt said. “Now I know.” He shook his head, turning away slightly. “But I still can’t believe it,” he muttered. His fingers pressed gingerly at the side of his neck, and he winced. “Except for this.” Then he frowned. “That guy—Damon. Who is he?”

  “My older brother,” Stefan said without emotion. “How do you know his name?”

  “He was at Elena’s house last week. The kitten spat at him.” Matt paused, clearly remembering something else. “And Bonnie had some kind of psychic fit.”

  “She had a precognition? What did she say?”

  “She said—she said that Death was in the house.”

  Stefan looked at the door Damon and Elena had passed through. “She was right.”

  “Stefan, what’s going on?” A note of appeal had entered Matt’s voice. “I still don’t understand. What’s happened to Elena? Is she going to be like this forever? Isn’t there anything we can do?”

  “Be like what?” Stefan said brutally. “Disoriented? A vampire?”

  Matt looked away. “Both.”

  “As for the first, she may become more rational now that she’s fed. That’s what Damon thinks anyway. As for the other, there’s only one thing you can do to change her condition.” As Matt’s eyes lit with hope, Stefan continued. “You can get a wooden stake and hammer it through her heart. Then she won’t be a vampire anymore. She’ll just be dead.”