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A new madness, more heated than Elena had seen before, bloomed in Klaus’s eyes. “I will kill you,” he said, almost affectionately, squeezing her face between his fingers so that Elena made an involuntary moan of pain and protest. “But not yet. I want you to be waiting for me, to think of me coming for you. You won’t know when, but it will be soon.”
Quickly, shockingly, he pulled her toward him and planted a soft, cold kiss on her mouth. His breath was rank, and the taste of Ethan’s blood on his lips made her gag.
Finally, he opened his hand and released her. Elena stumbled back several paces, wiping at her mouth furiously.
“I’ll see you again, little one,” Klaus said, and then he was gone, faster than Elena’s eyes could follow.
Matt caught Elena before she could fall. A moment later, Stefan’s strong arms were around her, and Matt let her go.
Everyone was blinking and dazed, as if Klaus’s exit had left a vacuum. The Vitale vampires were looking at one another uncertainly and, before Meredith and the rest could collect themselves enough to begin fighting again, the vampires were leaving, running away in a panicked, disorganized mob. Meredith reached for the stake in her belt, but it was too late. Frowning, she silently crossed the clearing to pick up her stave, turning it over in her hands to check for damage.
Zander, his fur bloody and bedraggled from the fight, lowered his head, and the rest of his Pack crowded around him anxiously. One of the other wolves licked quickly at his wound, and Zander leaned against him.
Chloe had not disappeared with the other vampires. Instead, she stood by Matt, biting at her lips with blunt teeth, staring at the ground. After a moment, Matt put his arm carefully around her and Chloe huddled close to his side.
Elena sighed wearily and let her head drop onto Stefan’s shoulder. She could still taste Klaus’s vile kiss, and tears stung her eyes.
Ethan was dead, but nothing was over. The fight was just beginning.
In a tree high above the clearing, a large black crow ruffled its feathers, eyeing the battleground below him. He had watched the fight critically, thinking that there were things he would have done differently, more aggressively. But no, this wasn’t Damon’s place anymore. He hadn’t wanted to be seen, hadn’t wanted to get involved with Elena and Stefan and all their problems. But the scent of blood and fire had led him here.
After everything, he still wanted to save Elena and Stefan, didn’t he? That was what was pulling him to the fight, an almost unnatural urge to do what he was built to do: to kill. When he’d seen Klaus fling his brother aside, everything in him had tensed to attack. And when the arrogant Original vampire had dared to touch Elena—Damon’s Elena, his heart still insisted—Damon had flown to the edge of the clearing, his normally slow pulse hammering with rage.
But they didn’t need him, they didn’t want him; he was done with them. He’d tried—he’d done his best, he’d changed—all for Elena’s love, and for the friendship he’d found with his brother at last. After centuries of caring for no one but himself, Damon had suddenly been caught in Elena’s world, wrapped up in the lives of a handful of mortal teenagers. He’d become someone he barely recognized.
And it hadn’t mattered. In the end, Damon was still left on the outside.
Klaus was gone and they were fine. This wasn’t his fight. Not anymore. Now, all he had was the cloak of night and the cold comfort of once again relying on no one but himself.
Damon was, he told himself fiercely, free.
Chapter 9
Matt craned to look over Stefan’s shoulder and through the creaking door of the abandoned boathouse. It was dark and musty inside, and Matt’s hand tightened automatically on Chloe’s.
“This should be a safe place for now,” Stefan told them.
Elena and the others had headed back to campus, shaken and quiet from the fight, but Chloe had nowhere to go. “I don’t know what to do now,” she’d said. “I can’t go back to the Vitale house. Will you help me?”
Matt had taken her hand, feeling a wave of guilty compassion wash over him. If only he hadn’t trusted Ethan. The other Vitale pledges had been innocent victims, but Matt had known vampires. Why hadn’t he suspected? “Wherever you go, I’m coming with you,” he’d said stubbornly. So Stefan had brought them here.
Matt rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. Safe or not, the old boathouse certainly was grim-looking. Stefan had said that students didn’t come here anymore, and Matt could easily believe it.
This had once been the boathouse for the Dalcrest crew team, but new docks and a boathouse had been built closer to the river. Since then, the small artificial lake this boathouse fronted had silted up. Now algae-scummed, brackish water lay shallowly across the muddy lake bottom, and the boathouse itself had been left to rot. Foul-smelling water sloshed below damp, softened wood underfoot. Above their heads, the rotting roof let in glimpses of the night sky.
“I’m not sure Chloe should be living like this,” Matt said slowly, not wanting to offend Stefan.
Stefan’s lips curled up in a bitter smile. “The first lesson you both need to learn is that she’s not living like this. She’s not living at all—not anymore.”
Next to Matt, Chloe hunched her shoulders protectively and crossed her arms. “I feel alive,” she muttered. Matt waited for the wry, dimpling twist of her mouth he’d gotten used to from the human Chloe, but she just gazed down at her feet somberly.
“This is what it is, Chloe,” Stefan said to her. His voice was dispassionate. “Until you can learn to survive without hurting humans, you can’t stay near them. Any scent or sound might set you off. It takes a long time to get to the point where you can trust yourself, and until you do, you’ll be skulking in the shadows, existing in the places where no human would go. Sewers. Caves. Places that make this boathouse look like luxury.”
Chloe nodded, looking up at Stefan with wide, earnest eyes. “I’ll do anything I have to,” she said. “This is my second chance—I understand that. I’m going to fix myself.”
Stefan gave her a small smile. “I hope so, Chloe,” he said. Rubbing the bridge of his nose between two fingers in a familiar weary gesture, he turned to Matt. “There are things you can do to help her,” Stefan told him. “She’s young. It’s important she have plenty of blood or she won’t be able to think about anything else.”
Matt started to speak and Stefan cut him off. “Not your blood. Animal blood. If you go with her into the woods when she’s hunting, you can help keep her grounded and away from humans. You can bring her animals when she doesn’t feel like she can go out.” Matt nodded, and Stefan turned to Chloe. “You’re fast and strong now; you’ll be able to catch deer if you want to. If you concentrate, you should be able to call smaller animals—birds and rabbits—to you. You can try not to kill them if you want, but you probably will anyway, at least until you learn to control yourself.”
“Thank you, Stefan,” Chloe said solemnly.
“Practice deep breathing,” Stefan told her. “Meditation. Listen to your own heartbeat, learn the new slower rhythm it has now that you’ve been turned. You’re going to get pretty agitated sometimes, and you should find out how to calm yourself down. Do it with her, Matt. It’ll help her focus.”
“Okay.” Matt wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans and nodded again. “We can do this.”
His eyes met Stefan’s, and Matt was surprised by the look on the vampire’s face. Despite the matter-of-fact tone Stefan had been using, he could tell Stefan was concerned. “It’s dangerous for you,” Stefan said gently. “I shouldn’t leave you with her.”
“I wouldn’t hurt him,” Chloe said. Her eyes filled with tears and she angrily brushed them away with the back of her hand. “I’d never hurt Matt.”
Stefan turned the same sympathetic gaze on her. “I know you don’t want to hurt him,” he told her, “but I also know you can hear the rushing of Matt’s blood as his heart pounds, that you can smell the overwhelming sweet blood-scent of him all around yo
u. It’s hard to think straight when he’s near you, isn’t it? Part of you just wants to tear into him, to rip at that soft skin of his throat, to find the vein that’s so full of rich, warm blood, just there below his ear.”
Chloe clenched her jaw, but the white edge of a tooth slipped past the firm line of her mouth, cutting at her lip. With a shudder, Matt realized that Chloe’s sharp vampire canines had descended while Stefan was talking, that she was ready to bite.
Steeling himself, Matt pushed down the instinct to run away from her and instead moved closer and put an arm across her shoulders.
“We’ll get through this,” he said firmly. Chloe took a deep, slow breath and then another, clearly trying to calm herself. After a moment, her shoulders relaxed a little and, looking at the looser set of her jaw, Matt thought that her teeth had gone back to normal.
“What else should we do?” Chloe asked Stefan, her voice determined.
Stefan shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He walked back to the doorway and looked out over the dark water of the lake. “In the end, the only thing that matters is that you really want to change,” he said. “If you want it enough and if your willpower is strong enough, you will. I won’t lie to you, it’s not easy.”
“I do want to,” Chloe said, her eyes shining with tears again. “I won’t hurt anyone. That’s not who I am, not even now. These last few days—I can’t be that thing.” She closed her eyes, and the tears spilled over her lashes, running in silvery lines down her cheeks.
“You can’t feed on anyone,” Stefan warned her. “If Matt or anyone else gets hurt, even if you’re sorry, I’ll do what I need to do to protect the humans here.”
“You’ll kill me,” Chloe agreed, her voice thin. Her eyes were still closed, and she hugged herself, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. “It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t want to live like that.”
“I’ll take responsibility for her,” Matt said, his voice sounding loud in his own ears. “I won’t let anything bad happen.”
Chloe inched closer to him, seeming to find comfort under his arm. Matt held on to her. Chloe could be saved; he knew it. He hadn’t been careful enough, hadn’t realized what Ethan was. But Chloe wasn’t lost to him, not yet.
“All right,” Stefan said quietly, looking between them. “Good luck.” He shook hands with Matt and then he turned and was gone, faster than Matt’s eyes could follow, no doubt headed back to Elena.
Chloe pressed against Matt’s side and laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, her dark, curly hair soft where it touched his face. This was dangerous, a small unhappy knot in his stomach reminded him, and he didn’t really know what he was doing.
But Chloe was breathing slowly beside him, and all he could think was: at least they had a chance.
“I’m fine, Bonnie,” Zander said, half laughing. “I’m tough, remember? Supertough. I’m a hero.” He tugged on her hand, trying to pull her onto the bed beside him.
“You’re hurt is what you are,” Bonnie said sharply. “Don’t try that macho stuff on me.” She pulled her hand away and shoved an ice pack at him with her other hand. “Put that on your shoulder,” she ordered.
They’d met up outside the library a little while after dawn, and she’d immediately seen that Zander was wounded. Back in his human form, he had seemed almost as graceful as always, running along with his Pack with his usual easy, loping stride, but he’d held himself aloof from the rest of the guys’ playful shoving and tussling, the rough hands-on affection that was their default mode when they weren’t on duty. As he’d stepped lightly out of range of Marcus’s and Enrique’s grappling arms and ducked away from Camden’s headlock, Bonnie had realized Zander must be hurting.
So she’d taken him to the cafeteria and filled him up with eggs and bacon and the sugary cereal he loved. They’d come back to Zander’s dorm room and she’d gotten him to take his shirt off so she could examine the damage. Normally, Bonnie would have been happily ogling Zander’s chiseled abs, but right now, the purple-black bruise beginning to bloom on his shoulder and stretch down his side was ruining the view.
“I’m not really hurt, Bonnie,” Zander insisted. “You don’t have to baby me.” He lay back on the bed, though, and didn’t try to get up, so Bonnie figured that Zander was feeling a lot worse than he was willing to admit.
“I’ll get you some ibuprofen,” she said, and he didn’t argue. She rummaged through his desk until she found the bottle and rattled the last couple of pills out into his hand, then brought him a bottle of water. Zander hitched himself up onto his elbows to swallow the pills and winced.
“Lie down,” Bonnie told him. “If you promise to stay in bed and try to nap, I could go get you some of my special healing tea.”
Zander grinned at her. “Why don’t you lie down with me?” he suggested. “I bet I’d feel a lot more comfortable with you here.” He patted the mattress next to him.
Bonnie hesitated. That was actually pretty tempting. She was about to snuggle up to him when a brisk knock came on the door.
Bonnie waved Zander back onto the bed as he started to rise. “I’ll get it,” she told him. “It’s probably one of the guys.” Not that Zander’s Packmates bothered to knock much, but maybe they were using their best manners, assuming Bonnie would be there.
Another sharp tap came as Bonnie crossed the room. “All right, hold your horses,” she muttered, opening the door.
In the hallway, her hand raised to knock yet again, stood a complete stranger, a girl with hair cut in a long blond bob. Her small, precise features mirrored Bonnie’s own surprise.
“Is Zander here?” the girl asked, frowning.
“Um,” Bonnie said, feeling thrown. “Yeah, he’s . . .”
Then Zander came up behind her. “Well, hi, Shay,” he said, his voice slightly unsure. He was smiling, though. “What’re you doing here?”
The girl—Shay, Bonnie thought, what kind of name was that?—glanced at Bonnie instead of answering, and Zander flushed. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah, Bonnie, this is Shay, who’s a friend from back home. Shay, this is my girlfriend, Bonnie.”
“Nice to meet you, Bonnie,” Shay said coolly, raising one eyebrow. Her eyes traced over Zander’s naked chest, lingering for a moment on the purpling bruise, and his cheeks flushed pink. “Been busy?” she asked.
“Come on in,” he said, and backed away from the door, reaching for his shirt. “I, uh, was just putting some ice on my shoulder.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Bonnie said, a little late, as she made room for Shay to pass her. Since when did Zander have female friends? Other than Bonnie, and Bonnie’s friends, he lived in an exclusively male world.
“I need to talk to you. Alone,” Shay said to Zander, shooting him a meaningful look and then cutting her eyes sharply to Bonnie.
Zander rolled his eyes. “Subtle, Shay,” he said. “But it’s okay. Bonnie knows about me and the rest of the Pack.”
A second eyebrow climbed up Shay’s forehead to join the first. “Do you think that’s wise?” she asked.
Zander’s lips quirked into the half smile Bonnie loved. “Believe me, it’s not the weirdest thing Bonnie knows,” he said.
“O-kay,” Shay said slowly. She fixed Bonnie with a long, speculative look and Bonnie stuck out her chin defiantly and glared right back at her. Finally, Shay shrugged. “I guess I lost my right to give you advice a while back,” she said, then lowered her voice, as if she was afraid someone might be eavesdropping from the hallway. “The High Wolf Council sent me,” she said quietly. “They’re not happy with what they’re hearing about the vampires at Dalcrest. They thought maybe I could help you guys find some direction.”
Zander’s jaw tightened. “Our direction’s fine, thanks,” he said.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Shay said. “I’m not trying to Alpha you.” She reached out and touched his arm lightly, letting her hand linger on it. “It was a good excuse to come vis
it,” she said, even more softly. “I was sorry about how things ended the last time we saw each other.”
Bonnie glanced down at herself. Shay was so focused on Zander that Bonnie had started to wonder if maybe she had disappeared and left them thinking they were alone together. But nope, same solid Bonnie.
“Oh,” she said, startled, as everything Shay had said suddenly clicked into place. “You’re a werewolf.”
She should have seen it immediately: despite Shay’s neat, swinging bob and feminine features, she moved the same way Zander and his Pack did, with a kind of solid grace, as if she was completely aware at all times of her body, without even having to think about it. And she had touched Zander the way he touched the guys in his Pack, easy and as if her body was almost part of his own.
He didn’t touch Bonnie that way. Not that Bonnie had any complaints at all about the way Zander did touch her, which was sweet and sure and as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever held. But still, it wasn’t quite the same.
There was no one there to overhear, but Shay pinned Bonnie with a glare. “Keep your voice down,” she whispered fiercely.
“Sorry,” Bonnie said. “I just didn’t know there were girl Original werewolves.”
Shay’s lips curved into a smirk. “Sure,” she said. “Where do you think all the little Original werewolves come from?”
“The High Wolf Council usually divides younger wolves up into Packs of either guys or girls when they send us out to keep an eye on things,” Zander told Bonnie. “They think mixing together distracts us from our jobs.”
“Apparently they’re not considering the other ways some of us can get distracted,” Shay said acidly. Her eyes were cold on Bonnie’s, but Bonnie hadn’t been through hell and back in the last year to let any bossy and self-important werewolf girl push her around.
Bonnie was just opening her mouth to tell Shay that she’d better lose the attitude when Zander, seeming to sense her reaction, grabbed hold of Bonnie’s hand.