Лиза Смит - The Return - Nightfall

“So where were we?” Damon was walking back and forth, with the Virginia pine branch in his right hand, tapping it on his left palm. “Oh, that’s right ”—as if making a great discovery—“the girl and the stalwart knight are going to kiss.”

In Stefan’s room, Bonnie said, “For the last time, Meredith, did you find a backup file for Stefan’s note or not?”

“No,” Meredith said in a flat voice. But just as Bonnie was about to collapse again, Meredith said, “I found a different note completely. A letter, really.”

“A different note? What does it say?”

“Can you stand up at all? Because I think you’d better have a look at this.”

Bonnie, who had only just gotten back her breath, managed to hobble over to the computer.

She read the document on the screen — complete except for what seemed to be its final words, and gasped.

“Damon did something to Stefan!” she said, and felt her heart plummet and all her internal organs follow it. So Elena had been wrong. Damon was evil, through and through. By now, Stefan might even be…

“Dead,” Meredith said, her mind obviously following the same track that Bonnie’s had taken. She lifted dark eyes to Bonnie’s. Bonnie knew that her own eyes were wet. “How long,” Meredith asked, “has it been since you called Elena or Matt?”

“I don’t know; I don’t know what time it is. But I called twice after we left Caroline’s house and once at Isobel’s; and when I’ve tried after that, I either get a message that their mailboxes are full or it won’t connect at all.”

“That’s about exactly what I’ve gotten. If they went near the Old Wood — well, you know what it does to phone reception.”

“And now, even if they come out of the woods, we can’t leave them a message because we’ve filled up their voice mail—”

“E-mail,” Meredith said. “Good old e-mail; we can use that to send Elena a message.”

“Yes!” Bonnie punched the air. Then she deflated. She hesitated for an instant and then almost whispered, “No.” Words from Stefan’s real note kept echoing in her mind: I trust Matt’s instinctive protectiveness for you, Meredith’s judgment, and Bonnie’s intuition. Tell them to remember that.

“You can’t tell her what Damon’s done,” she said, even as Meredith began busily typing. “She probably already knows — and if she doesn’t, it’ll just make more trouble. She’s with Damon.”

“Matt told you that?”

“No. But Matt was out of his mind with pain.”

“Couldn’t it have been from those — bugs?” Meredith looked down at her ankle where several red welts still showed on the smooth olive flesh.

“It could be, but it wasn’t. It didn’t feel like the trees, either. It was just…pure pain. And I don’t know, not for certain, how I know that it’s Damon doing it. I just — know.”

She saw Meredith’s eyes unfocus and knew that she was thinking about Stefan’s words, too. “Well, my judgment tells me to trust you,” she said. “By the way, Stefan spells ‘judgment’ the preferred American way,” she added. “Damon spells it with ane. That may have been what was bothering Matt.”

“As if Stefan would really leave Elena alone with everything that’s been going on,” Bonnie said indignantly.

“Well, Damon fooled all of us and made us think so,” Meredith pointed out. Meredith tended to point out things like that.

Bonnie started suddenly. “I wonder if he stole the money?”

“I doubt it, but let’s see.” Meredith pulled the rocking chair away, saying, “Grab me a hanger.”

Bonnie grabbed one from the closet and grabbed herself one of Elena’s tops to put on at the same time. It was too big, since it was Meredith’s top given to Elena, but at least it was warm.

Meredith was using the hooked end of the wire hanger on all sides of the floorboard that looked most promising. Just as she managed to pry it up, there was a knock at the open door. They both jumped.

“It’s only me,” said the voice of Mrs. Flowers from behind a large duffel bag and a tray of bandages, mugs, sandwiches, and strong-smelling cheesecloth bags like the ones she’d used on Matt’s arm.

Bonnie and Meredith exchanged a glance and then Meredith said, “Come in and let us help you.” Bonnie was already taking the tray, and Mrs. Flowers was dumping the duffel bag on the floor. Meredith continued prying the board up.

“Food!” Bonnie said gratefully.

“Yes, turkey-and-tomato sandwiches. Help yourselves. I’m sorry I was away so long, but you can’t hurry the poultice for swellings,” Mrs. Flowers said. “I remember, long ago, my younger brother always said — oh, my goodness gracious!” She was staring at the place where the floorboard had been. A good-sized hollow was filled with hundred-dollar bills, neatly wrapped in packets with bank-bands still around them.

“Wow,” Bonnie said. “I never saw so much money!”

“Yes.” Mrs. Flowers turned and began distributing cups of cocoa and sandwiches. Bonnie bit into a sandwich hungrily. “People used to simply put things behind the loose brick in the fireplace. But I can see that the young man needed more space.”

“Thank you for the cocoa and sandwiches,” Meredith said after a few minutes spent wolfing them down while working on the computer at the same time. “But if you want to treat us for bruises and things — well, I’m afraid we just can’t wait.”

“Oh, come.” Mrs. Flowers took a small compress that smelled to Bonnie like tea and pressed it to Meredith’s nose. “This will take the swelling down in minutes. And you, Bonnie — sniff out the one that’s for that bump on your forehead.”

Once again Meredith’s and Bonnie’s eyes met. Bonnie said, “Well, if it’s only a few minutes — I don’t know what we’re doing next anyway.” She looked the poultices over and picked a round one that smelled of flowers and musk to put on her forehead.

“Exactly right,” Mrs. Flowers said without turning around to look. “And of course, the long thin one is for Meredith’s ankle.”

Meredith drank the last of her cocoa, then reached down to gingerly touch one of the red marks. “That’s okay—” she began, when Mrs. Flowers interrupted.

“You’re going to need that ankle at full capacity when we go out.”

“‘When we go out’?” Meredith stared at her.

“Into the Old Wood,” Mrs. Flowers clarified. “To find your friends.”

Meredith looked horrified. “If Elena and Matt are in the Old Wood, then I agree: we have to go look for them. But you can’t go, Mrs. Flowers! And we don’t know where they are, anyway.”

Mrs. Flowers drank from the cup of cocoa in her hand, looking thoughtfully at the one window that wasn’t shuttered. For a moment Meredith thought she hadn’t heard or didn’t mean to answer. Then she said, slowly, “I daresay you all think I’m just a batty old woman who’s never around when there’s trouble at hand.”

“We would never think that,” Bonnie said staunchly, but thinking that they’d found out more about Mrs. Flowers in the last two days than in the entire nine months since Stefan had moved in here. Before that, all she’d ever heard were ghost stories or rumors about the crazy old lady in the boardinghouse. She’d been hearing them since she could remember.

Mrs. Flowers smiled. “It’s not easy having the Power and never being believed when you use it. And then, I’ve lived for so long — and people don’t like that. It worries them. They start to make up ghost stories or rumors—” Bonnie felt her eyes go round. Mrs. Flowers just smiled again and nodded gently. “It’s been a real pleasure having a polite young man in the house,” she said, taking the long poultice from the tray and wrapping it around Meredith’s ankle. “Of course, I had to get over my prejudices. Dear Mama always said that if I kept the place, I might have to take in boarders, and to be sure not to take in foreigners. And then of course, the young man is a vampire as well—” Bonnie almost sprayed cocoa across the room. She choked, then went into a spasm of coughing. Meredith had her no-expression expression on.