Лиза Смит - The Return - Nightfall

“NOW!”Elena insisted.

Stefan bit her wrist.

It was an odd sensation. It hurt a little more than when he pierced the side of her neck as usual. But there were good veins down there, she knew; she trusted Stefan to find the largest so that this would take the least amount of time. Her urgency had become his.

But when he tried to pull back, she clutched a handful of his wavy dark hair and said, “More, Stefan. You need it — oh, I can tell, and we don’t have time to argue.”

The voice of command. Meredith had told her once that she had it, that she could lead armies. Well, she might need to lead armies to get into this place to save him.

I’ll get an army somewhere, she thought fuzzily.

The starving blood fever that Stefan had been in — they obviously hadn’t fed him since she had last seen him — was dying into the more normal blood-taking that she knew. His mind melted into hers.When you say you’ll get an army, I believe you. But it’s impossible. No one’s ever come back.

Well, you will. I’m bringing you back.

Elena, Elena…

Drink,she said, feeling like an Italian mother.As much as you can without being sick.

But how did — no, you told me how you got here. That was the truth?

The truth. I always tell you the truth. But Stefan, how do I get you out?

Shinichi and Misao — you know them?

Enough.

They each have half a ring. Together it makes a key. Each half is shaped like a running fox. But who knows where they may have hidden the pieces? And as I said, just to get into this place, it takes an army….

I’ll find the pieces of the fox ring. I’ll put them together. I’ll get an army. I’ll get you out.

Elena, I can’t keep drinking. You’ll collapse.

I’m good at not collapsing. Please go on.

I can hardly believe it’s you“No kissing! Take my blood!”

Ma’am! But Elena, truly, I’m full now. Overfull.

And tomorrow?

“I’ll still be overfull.” Stefan pulled away, a thumb on the places where he had pierced veins. “Truly, I can’t, love.”

“And the next day?”

“I’ll manage.”

“You will — because I brought this. Hold me, Stefan,” she said, several decibels softer. “Hold me through the bars.”

He did, looking bewildered, and she hissed in his ear, “Act like you love me. Stroke my hair. Say nice things.”

“Elena, lovely little love…” He was still close enough mentally to say telepathically: Act like I love you? But while his hands were stroking and squeezing and tangling in her hair, Elena’s own hands were busy. She was transferring from under her clothes to under his a flask full of Black Magic wine.

“But where did you get it?” Stefan whispered, seeming thunderstruck.

“The magic house has everything. I’ve been waiting for my chance to give it to you if you needed it.”

“Elena—”

“What?”

Stefan seemed to be struggling with something. At last, eyes on the ground, he whispered, “It’s no good. I can’t risk you getting killed for the sake of an impossibility. Forget me.”

“Put your face to the bars.”

He looked at her but didn’t ask any questions, obeying.

She slapped him across the face.

It wasn’t a very hard slap…although Elena’s hand hurt from colliding with the iron on either side.

“Now,be ashamed!” she said. And before he could say anything else,“Listen!”

It was the baying of hounds — far away, but getting closer.

“It’s you they’re after,” Stefan said, suddenly frantic. “You have to go!”

She just looked at him steadily. “I love you, Stefan.”

“I love you, Elena. Forever.”

“I — oh, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t go; that was the thing. Like Caroline talking and talking and never leaving Stefan’s apartment, she could stand here and speak about it, but she couldn’t do it.

“Elena! You have to. I don’t want you to see what they do—”

“I’ll kill them!”

“You’re no killer. You’re not a fighter, Elena — and you shouldn’t see this. Please? Remember once you asked me if I’d like to see how many times you could make me say ‘please?’ Well, each counts for a thousand now. Please? For me? Will you go?”

“One more kiss…” Her heart was beating like a frantic bird inside her.

“Please!”

Blind with tears, Elena turned around and grasped hold of the cell door.

“Anywhere outside the ceremony where no one will see me!” she gasped and wrenched the door to the corridor open and stepped through.

At least she’d seen Stefan, but for how long that would last to keep her heart from shattering again— oh, my God, I’m falling — she didn’t know.

Elena realized that she was outside the boardinghouse somewhere — at least some eighty feet high — and plummeting rapidly. Her first, panicked conclusion was that she was going to die, and then instinct kicked in and she reached out with arms and hands and kicked in with legs and feet and managed to arrest her fall after twenty agonizing feet.

I’ve lost my flying wings forever, haven’t I? she thought, concentrating on a single spot between her shoulder blades. She knew just where they should be — and nothing happened.

Then, carefully, she inched her way closer to the trunk, pausing only to move to a higher twig a caterpillar that was sharing the branch with her. And she managed to find a sort of place where she could sit by sidling and then pushing backward. It was far too high a branch for her personal taste.

As it was, she found that she could look down and see the widow’s walk quite clearly, and that the longer she looked at any particular thing the clearer her vision got. Vampire vision plus, she thought. It showed her that she was Changing. Or else — yes, somehow here the sky was getting lighter.

What it showed her was a dark and empty boardinghouse, which was disturbing because of what Caroline’s father had said about “the meeting” and what she had learned telepathically from Damon about Shinichi’s plans for this Moonspire night. Could this be not the real boardinghouse at all, but another trap?

“We made it!” Bonnie cried as they approached the house. She knew her voice was shrill, was over-shrill, but somehow the sight of that brightly lit boardinghouse, like a Christmas tree with a star on top, comforted her, even if she knew that it was all wrong. She felt she could cry in relief.

“Yes, we did,” Dr. Alpert’s deep voice said. “All of us. Isobel’s the one who needs the most treatment, the fastest. Theophilia, get your nostrums ready, and somebody else take Isobel and run her a bath.”

“I’ll do it,” Bonnie quavered, after a brief hesitation. “She’s going to stay tranquilized like she is now, right? Right?”

“I’ll go with Isobel,” Matt said. “Bonnie, you go with Mrs. Flowers and help her. And before we go inside, I want to make one thing clear: nobody goes anywhere alone. We all travel in twos or threes.” There was the ring of authority in his voice.

“Makes sense,” Meredith said crisply and took up a place by the doctor. “You’d better be careful, Matt; Isobel is the most dangerous.”

That was when the high, thin voices began outside the house. It sounded like two or three little girls singing.

“Isa-chan, Isa-chan, Drank her tea and ate her gran.”

“Tami? Tami Bryce?” Meredith demanded, opening the door as the tune began again. She darted forward, then she grabbed the doctor by the hand, and dragged her along beside her as she darted forward again.

And, yes, Bonnie saw, there were three little figures, one in pajamas and two in nightgowns, and they were Tami Bryce and Kristin Dunstan and Ava Zarinski. Ava was only about eleven, Bonnie thought, and she didn’t live near either Tami or Kristin. The three of them all giggled shrilly. Then they started singing again and Matt went after Kristin.