The Struggle Page 9

  Elena stared at her image in the mirror. It hadn’t been a dream. Not entirely. The wounds in her neck proved that. And now that she’d seen them, she noticed the feeling of light-headedness, of lethargy.

  It was her own fault. She’d taken so much trouble to warn Bonnie and Meredith not to invite any strangers into their houses. And all the time she’d forgotten that she herself had invited Damon into Bonnie’s house. She’d done it that night she had set up the dumb supper in Bonnie’s dining room and called out into the darkness, “Come in.”

  And the invitation was good forever. He could return any time he liked, even now. Especially now, while she was weak and might easily be hypnotized into unlocking a window again.

  Elena stumbled out of the bathroom, past Bonnie, and into the guest bedroom. She grabbed her tote bag and began stuffing things into it.

  “Elena, you can’t go home!”

  “I can’t stay here,” Elena said. She looked around for her shoes, spotted them by the bed, and started forward. Then she stopped, with a strangled sound. Lying on the dainty crumpled linen of the bed there was a single black feather. It was huge, horribly huge and real and solid, with a thick, waxy-looking shaft. It looked almost obscene resting there on the white percale sheets.

  Nausea swept over Elena, and she turned away. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Okay, okay,” Bonnie said. “If you feel that way about it, I’ll get Dad to take you home.”

  “You have to come, too.” It had just dawned on Elena that Bonnie was no safer in this house than she was. You and your loved ones, she remembered, and turned to grasp Bonnie’s arm. “You have to, Bonnie. I need you with me.”

  And at last she got her way. The McCulloughs thought she was hysterical, that she was overreacting, possibly that she was having a nervous breakdown. But finally they gave in. Mr. McCullough drove her and Bonnie to the Gilbert house, where, feeling like burglars, they unlocked the door and crept inside without waking anyone up.

  Even here, Elena couldn’t sleep. She lay beside Bonnie’s softly breathing form, staring toward her bedroom window, watching. Outside, the quince branches squeaked against the glass, but nothing else moved until dawn.

  That was when she heard the car. She’d know the wheezing sound of Matt’s engine anywhere. Alarmed, she tiptoed to the window and looked out into the early-morning stillness of another gray day. Then she hurried downstairs and opened the front door.

  “Stefan!” She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. She flung herself upon him before he could even shut the car door. He swayed backward with the force of her impact, and she could feel his surprise. She wasn’t usually so demonstrative in public.

  “Hey,” he said, returning the hug gently. “Me, too, but don’t crush the flowers.”

  “Flowers?” She pulled back to look at what he was carrying; then, she looked at his face. Then at Matt, who was emerging from the other side of the car. Stefan’s face was pale and drawn; Matt’s was puffy with tiredness, with bloodshot eyes.

  “You’d better come inside,” she said at last, bewildered. “You both look awful.”

  “It’s vervain,” said Stefan, some time later. He and Elena were sitting at the kitchen table. Through the open doorway, Matt could be seen stretched out on the family room sofa, snoring gently. He’d flopped there after eating three bowls of cereal. Aunt Judith, Bonnie, and Margaret were still upstairs asleep, but Stefan kept his voice low just the same. “You remember what I told you about it?” he said.

  “You said it helps keep your mind clear even when someone is using Power to influence it.” Elena was proud of how steady her voice was.

  “Right. And that’s one of the things Damon might try. He can use the power of his mind even from a distance, and he can do it whether you’re awake or asleep.”

  Tears filled Elena’s eyes, and she looked down to hide them, gazing at the long slender stems with the dried remains of tiny lilac flowers at the very tips. “Asleep?” she said, afraid that this time her voice was not as steady.

  “Yes. He could influence you to come out of the house, say, or to let him in. But the vervain should prevent that.” Stefan sounded tired, but satisfied with himself.

  Oh, Stefan, if you only knew, Elena thought. The gift had come one night too late. In spite of all her efforts, a tear fell, dripping onto the long green leaves.

  “Elena!” He sounded startled. “What is it? Tell me.”

  He was trying to look into her face, but she bowed her head, pressing it into his shoulder. He put his arms around her, not trying to force her up again. “Tell me,” he repeated softly.

  This was the moment. If she was ever going to tell him, it should be now. Her throat felt burned and swollen, and she wanted to let all the words inside pour out.

  But she couldn’t. No matter what, I won’t let them fight over me, she thought.

  “It’s just that—I was worried about you,” she managed. “I didn’t know where you’d gone, or when you were coming back.”

  “I should have told you. But that’s all? There’s nothing else upsetting you?”

  “That’s all.” Now she would have to swear Bonnie to secrecy about the crow. Why did one lie always lead to another? “What should we do with the vervain?” she asked, sitting back.

  “I’ll show you tonight. Once I’ve extracted the oil from the seeds, you can rub it into your skin or add it to a bath. And you can make the dried leaves into a sachet and carry it with you or put it under your pillow at night.”

  “I’d better give them to Bonnie and Meredith, too. They’ll need protection.”

  He nodded. “For now”—he broke off a sprig and placed it in her hand—“just take this to school with you. I’m going back to the boarding house to extract the oil.” He paused a moment and then spoke. “Elena …”

  “Yes?”

  “If I thought it would do you any good, I’d leave. I wouldn’t expose you to Damon. But I don’t think he’d follow me if I went, not anymore. I think he might stay—because of you.”

  “Don’t even think about leaving,” she said fiercely, looking up at him. “Stefan, that’s the one thing I couldn’t stand. Promise you won’t; promise me.”

  “I won’t leave you alone with him,” Stefan said, which was not quite the same thing. But there was no point in pushing him further.

  Instead, she helped him wake up Matt, and saw them both off. Then, with a stem of dried vervain in her hand, she went upstairs to get ready for school.

  Bonnie yawned all the way through breakfast and she didn’t really wake up until they were outside, walking to school with a brisk breeze in their faces. It was going to be a cold day.

  “I had a very weird dream last night,” Bonnie said.

  Elena’s heart jumped. She’d already tucked a sprig of vervain into Bonnie’s backpack, down at the bottom, where Bonnie wouldn’t see it. But if Damon had gotten to Bonnie last night …

  “What about?” she said, bracing herself.

  “About you. I saw you standing under a tree and the wind was blowing. For some reason, I was afraid of you, and I didn’t want to go any closer. You looked … different. Very pale but almost glowing. And then a crow flew down from the tree, and you reached out and grabbed it in midair. You were so fast it was unbelievable. And then you looked over at me, with this expression. You were smiling, but it made me want to run. And then you twisted the crow’s neck, and it was dead.”

  Elena had listened to this with growing horror. Now she said, “That’s a disgusting dream.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” said Bonnie composedly. “I wonder what it means? Crows are birds of ill omen in the legends. They can foretell a death.”

  “It probably meant that you knew how upset I was, finding that crow in the room.”

  “Yes,” Bonnie said. “Except for one thing. I had this dream before you woke us all up screaming.”

  That day at lunchtime there was another piece of violet paper on the office bulletin
board. This one, though, read simply: LOOK IN PERSONALS.

  “What personals?” said Bonnie.

  Meredith, walking up at that moment with a copy of the Wildcat Weekly, the school newspaper, provided the answer. “Have you seen this?” she said.

  It was in the personals section, completely anonymous, with neither salutation nor signature. I can’t bear the thought of losing him. But he’s so very unhappy about something, and if he won’t tell me what it is, if he won’t trust me that much, I don’t see any hope for us.

  Reading it, Elena felt a burst of new energy through her tiredness. Oh, God, she hated whoever was doing this. She imagined shooting them, stabbing them, watching them fall. And then, vividly, she imagined something else. Yanking back a fistful of the thief’s hair and sinking her teeth into an unprotected throat. It was a strange, unsettling vision, but for a moment it almost seemed real.

  She became aware that Bonnie and Meredith were looking at her.

  “Well?” she said, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

  “I could tell you weren’t listening,” sighed Bonnie. “I just said it still doesn’t look like Da—like the killer’s work to me. It doesn’t seem like a murderer would be so petty.”

  “Much as I hate to agree with her, she’s right,” Meredith said. “This smells like someone sneaky. Someone who has a grudge against you personally and who really wants to make you suffer.”

  Saliva had collected in Elena’s mouth, and she swallowed. “Also somebody who’s familiar with the school. They had to fill out a form for a personals message in one of the journalism classes,” she said.

  “And somebody who knew you kept a diary, assuming they stole it on purpose. Maybe they were in one of your classes that day you took it to school. Remember? When Mr. Tanner almost caught you,” Bonnie added.

  “Ms. Halpern did catch me; she even read some of it aloud, a bit about Stefan. That was right after Stefan and I got together. Wait a minute, Bonnie. That night at your house when the diary was stolen, how long were you two out of the living room?”

  “Just a few minutes. Yangtze had stopped barking, and I went to the door to let him in, and …” Bonnie pressed her lips together and shrugged.

  “So the thief had to be familiar with your house,” said Meredith swiftly, “or he or she wouldn’t have been able to get in, get the diary, and get out again before we saw them. All right, then, we’re looking for someone sneaky and cruel, probably in one of your classes, Elena, and most likely familiar with Bonnie’s house. Someone who has a personal grudge and will stoop to anything to get you … Oh, my God.”

  The three of them stared at one another.

  “It has to be,” whispered Bonnie. “It has to.”

  “We’re so stupid; we should have seen it right away,” said Meredith.

  For Elena, it meant the sudden realization that all the anger she’d felt about this before was nothing to the anger she was capable of feeling. A candle flame to the sun.

  “Caroline,” she said, and clenched her teeth so hard her jaw hurt.

  Caroline. Elena actually felt she could kill the green-eyed girl right now. And she might have rushed out to try if Bonnie and Meredith hadn’t stopped her.

  “After school,” said Meredith firmly, “when we can take her somewhere private. Just wait that long, Elena.”

  But as they headed for the cafeteria, Elena noticed an auburn head disappearing down the art and music corridor. And she remembered something Stefan had said earlier this year, about Caroline taking him into the photography room at lunchtime. For privacy, Caroline had told him.

  “You two go on; I forgot something,” she said as soon as Bonnie and Meredith both had food on their cafeteria trays. Then she pretended to be deaf as she walked rapidly out and backtracked to the art wing.

  All the rooms were dark, but the photography room’s door was unlocked. Something made Elena turn the knob cautiously, and move quietly once she was inside, rather than marching in to start a confrontation as she’d planned. Was Caroline in here? If so, what was she doing alone in the dark?

  The room appeared at first to be deserted. Then Elena heard the murmur of voices from a small alcove at the back, and she saw that the darkroom door was ajar.

  Silently, stealthily, she made her way until she stood just outside the doorway, and the murmur of sound resolved itself into words.

  “But how can we be sure she’ll be the one they pick?” That was Caroline.

  “My father’s on the school board. They’ll pick her, all right.” And that was Tyler Smallwood. His father was a lawyer, and on every board there was. “Besides, who else would it be?” he continued. “‘The Spirit of Fell’s Church’ is supposed to be brainy as well as built.”

  “And I don’t have brains, I suppose?”

  “Did I say that? Look, if you want to be the one to parade in a white dress on Founders’ Day, fine. But if you want to see Stefan Salvatore run out of town on the evidence of his own girlfriend’s diary …”

  “But why wait so long?”

  Tyler sounded impatient. “Because this way it’ll ruin the celebration, too. The Fells’ celebration. Why should they get the credit for founding this town? The Small woods were here first.”

  “Oh, who cares about who founded the town? All I want is to see Elena humiliated in front of the entire school.”

  “And Salvatore.” The pure hatred and malice in Tyler’s voice made Elena’s flesh crawl. “He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up hanging from a tree. You’re sure the evidence is there?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? First, it says she lost the ribbon on September second in the cemetery. Then, it says Stefan picked it up that day and kept it. Wickery Bridge is right beside the cemetery. That means Stefan was near the bridge on September second, the night the old man was attacked there. Everybody already knows he was on hand for the attacks on Vickie and Tanner. What more do you want?”

  “It would never stand up in court. Maybe I should get some corroborating evidence. Like ask old Mrs. Flowers what time he got home that night.”

  “Oh, who cares? Most people think he’s guilty already. The diary talks about some big secret he’s hiding from everyone. People will get the idea.”

  “You’re keeping it in a safe place?”

  “No, Tyler, I’m keeping it out on the coffee table. How stupid do you think I am?”

  “Stupid enough to send Elena notes tipping her off.” There was a crackle, as of newspaper. “Look at this, this is unbelievable. And it’s got to stop, now. What if she figures out who’s doing it?”

  “What’s she going to do about it, call the police?”

  “I still want you to lay off. Just wait until Founders’ Day, then you’ll get to watch the Ice Princess melt.”

  “And to say ciao to Stefan. Tyler … nobody’s really going to hurt him, are they?”

  “Who cares?” Tyler mocked her earlier tone. “You leave that to me and my friends, Caroline. You just do your part, okay?”

  Caroline’s voice dropped to a throaty murmur. “Convince me.” After a pause Tyler chuckled.

  There was movement, rustling sounds, a sigh. Elena turned and slipped out of the room as quietly as she had come in.

  She got into the next hallway, and then she leaned against the lockers there, trying to think.

  It was almost too much to absorb at once. Caroline, who had once been her best friend, had betrayed her and wanted to see her humiliated in front of the whole school. Tyler, who’d always seemed more an annoying jerk than a real threat, was planning to get Stefan driven out of town—or killed. And the worst thing was that they were using Elena’s own diary to do it.

  Now she understood the beginning of her dream last night. She’d had a dream like it the day before she had discovered that Stefan was missing. In both, Stefan had looked at her with angry, accusing eyes, and then he had thrown a book at her feet and walked away.

  Not a book. Her diary. Which had in it evidence that
could be deadly to Stefan. Three times people in Fell’s Church had been attacked, and three times Stefan had been on the scene. What would that look like to the town, to the police?

  And there was no way to tell the truth. Supposing she said, “Stefan isn’t guilty. It’s his brother Damon who hates him and who knows how much Stefan hates even the thought of hurting and killing. And who followed Stefan around and attacked people to make Stefan think maybe Stefan had done it, to drive him mad. And who’s here in town somewhere—look for him in the cemetery or in the woods. But, oh, by the way, don’t just search for a good-looking guy, because he might be a crow at the moment.

  “Incidentally, he’s a vampire.”

  She didn’t even believe it herself. It sounded ludicrous.

  A twinge from the side of her neck reminded her how serious the ludicrous story really was. She felt odd today, almost as if she were sick. It was more than just tension and lack of sleep. She felt slightly dizzy, and at times the ground seemed to be spongy, giving way under her feet and then springing back. Flu symptoms, except that she was sure they weren’t due to any virus in her bloodstream.

  Damon’s fault, again. Everything was Damon’s fault except the diary. She had no one to blame for that but herself. If only she hadn’t written about Stefan, if only she hadn’t brought the diary to school. If only she hadn’t left it in Bonnie’s living room. If only, if only.

  Right now all that mattered was that she had to get it back.

  10

  The bell rang. There was no time to go back to the cafeteria and tell Bonnie and Meredith. Elena set off for her next class, past the averted faces and hostile eyes that were becoming all too familiar these days.

  It was hard, in history class, not to stare at Caroline, not to let Caroline know she knew. Alaric asked about Matt and Stefan being absent for the second day in a row, and Elena shrugged, feeling exposed and on display. She didn’t trust this man with the boyish smile and the hazel eyes and the thirst for knowledge about Mr. Tanner’s death. And Bonnie, who simply gazed at Alaric soulfully, was no help at all.