Lisa Smith - The Struggle

It was strange, but she felt no need to lie to him. “Caroline took something that belonged to me. A diary. I came to get it back.”

A new look flickered in the dark eyes. “Undoubtedly to protect my worthless brother somehow,” he said, annoyed.

“Stefan isn’t involved in this!”

“Oh, isn’t he?” She was afraid he understood more than she meant him to. “Strange, he always seems to be involved when there’s trouble. He creates problems. Now, if he were out of the picture…”

Elena spoke steadily. “If you hurt Stefan again I’ll make you sorry. I’ll find some way to make you wish you hadn’t, Damon. I mean it.”

“I see. Well, then, I’ll just have to work on you , won’t I?”

Elena said nothing. She’d talked herself into a corner, agreeing to play this deadly game of his again. She looked away.

“I’m going to have you in the end, you know,” he said softly. It was the voice he’d used at the party, when he’d said, “Easy, easy.” There was no mockery or malice now; he was simply stating a fact. “By hook or by crook, as you people say—that’s a nice phrase —you’ll be mine before the next snow flies.”

Elena tried to conceal the chill she felt, but she knew he saw anyway.

“Good,” he said. “You do have some sense. You’re right to be afraid of me; I’m the most dangerous thing you’re ever likely to encounter in your life. But just now I have a business proposition for you.”

“A business proposition?”

“Exactly. You came here to get a diary. But you haven’t got it.” He indicated her empty hands. “You failed, didn’t you?” When Elena made no reply he went on. “And since you don’t want my brother involved , he can’t help you. But I can. And I will.”

“You will?”

“Of course. For a price.”

Elena stared at him. Blood flamed in her face. When she managed to get words out, they would come only in a whisper.

“What— price ?”

A smile gleamed out of the darkness. “A few minutes of your time, Elena. A few drops of your blood. An hour or so spent with me, alone.”

“You…” Elena couldn’t find the right word. Every epithet she knew was too mild.

“I’ll have it anyway, eventually,” he said in a reasonable tone. “If you’re honest, you’ll admit that to yourself. Last time wasn’t the last. Why not accept that?” His voice dropped to a warm, intimate timbre. “Remember…”

“I’d rather cut my throat,” she said.

“An intriguing thought. But I can do it so much more enjoyably.”

He was laughing at her. Somehow, on top of everything else today, this was too much. “You’re disgusting; you know that,” she said. “You’re sickening.” She was shaking now, and she couldn’t breathe. “I’d die before I’d give in to you. I’d rather—”

She wasn’t sure what made her do it. When she was with Damon a sort of instinct took over her. And at that moment, she did feel that she’d rather risk anything than let him win this time. She noticed, with half her mind, that he was sitting back, relaxed, enjoying the turn his game was taking. The other half of her mind was calculating how far the roof overhung the balcony.

“I’d rather do this,” she said, and flung herself sideways.

She was right; he was off guard and couldn’t move fast enough to stop her. She felt free space below her feet and spinning terror as she realized the balcony was farther back than she’d thought. She was going to miss it.

But she hadn’t reckoned on Damon. His hand shot out, not quick enough to keep her on the roof, but keeping her from falling any farther. It was as if her weight was nothing to him. Reflexively, Elena grasped the shingled edge of the roof and tried to get a knee up.

His voice was furious. “You little fool ! If you’re that eager to meet death I can introduce you myself.”

“Let go of me,” said Elena through her teeth. Someone was going to come out on that balcony at any second, she was sure of it. “ Let go of me .”

“Here and now?” Looking into those unfathomable black eyes, she realized he was serious. If she said yes he would drop her.

“It would be a fast way to end things, wouldn’t it?” she said. Her heart was pounding in fear, but she refused to let him see that.

“But such a waste.” With one motion, he jerked her to safety. To himself. His arms tightened around her, pressing her to the lean hardness of his body, and suddenly Elena could see nothing. She was enveloped. Then she felt those flat muscles gathering themselves like some great cat’s, and the two of them launched into space.

She was falling. She couldn’t help but cling to him as the only solid thing in the rushing world around her. Then he landed, catlike, taking the impact easily.

Stefan had done something similar once. But Stefan had not held her this way afterward, bruisingly close, with his lips almost in contact with hers.

“Think about my proposition,” he said.

She could not move or look away. And this time she knew that it was no Power that he was using, but simply the wildfire attraction between them. It was useless to deny it; her body responded to his. She could feel his breath on her lips.

“I don’t need you for anything,” she told him.

She thought he was going to kiss her then, but he didn’t. Above them there was the sound of french windows opening and an angry voice on the balcony. “Hey! What’s going on? Is somebody out there?”

“This time I did you a favor,” Damon said, very softly, still holding her. “Next time I’m going to collect.”

She couldn’t have turned her head away. If he’d kissed her then, she would have let him. But suddenly the hardness of his arms melted around her and his face seemed to blur. It was as if the darkness was taking him back into itself. Then black wings caught and beat the air and a huge crow was soaring away.

Something, a book or shoe, was hurled after it from the balcony. It missed by a yard.

“Damn birds!” said Mr. Forbes’s voice from above. “They must be nesting on the roof.”

Shivering, with her arms locked around her, Elena huddled in the darkness below until he went back inside.

She found Meredith and Bonnie crouching by the gate. “What took you so long?” Bonnie whispered. “We thought you were caught!”

“I almost was. I had to stay until it was safe.” Elena was so used to lying about Damon that she did it now without conscious effort. “Let’s go home,” she whispered. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

When they parted at Elena’s door, Meredith said, “It’s only two weeks until Founders’ Day.”

“I know.” For a moment Damon’s proposition swam in Elena’s mind. But she shook her head to clear it. “I’ll think of something,” she said.

She hadn’t thought of anything by the next day of school. The one encouraging fact was that Caroline didn’t seem to have noticed anything amiss in her room—but that was all Elena could find to be encouraged about. There was an assembly that morning, at which it was announced that the school board had chosen Elena as the student to represent “The Spirit of Fell’s Church.” All through the principal’s speech about it, Caroline’s smile had blazed forth, triumphant and malicious.

Elena tried to ignore it. She did her best to ignore the slights and snubs that came even in the wake of the assembly, but it wasn’t easy. It was never easy, and there were days when she thought she would hit someone or just start screaming, but so far she’d managed.

That afternoon, waiting for the sixth-period history class to be let out, Elena studied Tyler Smallwood. Since coming back to school, he had not addressed one word to her directly. He’d smiled as nastily as Caroline during the principal’s announcement. Now, as he caught sight of Elena standing alone, he jostled Dick Carter with his elbow.