Lisa Smith: The Struggle

“I’d like to,” said Damon affably.

Aunt Judith looked pleased. “And this year Elena has a big part in it. She’s been chosen to represent the Spirit of Fell’s Church.”

“You must be proud of her,” said Damon.

“Oh, we are,” Aunt Judith said. “So you’ll try to come then?”

Elena broke in, buttering a roll furiously. “I’ve heard some news about Vickie,” she said. “You remember, the girl who was attacked.” She looked pointedly at Damon.

There was a short silence. Then Damon said, “I’m afraid I don’t know her.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. About my height, brown eyes, light brown hair… anyway, she’s getting worse.”

“Oh, dear,” said Aunt Judith.

“Yes, apparently the doctors can’t understand it. She just keeps getting worse and worse, as if the attack was still going on.” Elena kept her eyes on Damon’s face as she spoke, but he displayed only a courteous interest. “Have some more stuffing,” she finished, propelling a bowl at him.

“No thank you. I’ll have some more of this, though.” He held a spoonful of jellied cranberry sauce up to one of the candles so that light shone through it. “It’s such a tantalizing color.”

Bonnie, like the rest of the people at the table, looked up at the candle when he did this. But Elena noticed she didn’t look down again. She remained gazing into the dancing flame, and slowly all expression disappeared from her face.

Oh, no , thought Elena, as a tingle of apprehension crept through her limbs. She’d seen that look before. She tried to get Bonnie’s attention, but the other girl seemed to see nothing but the candle.

“… and then the elementary children put on a pageant about the town’s history,” Aunt Judith was saying to Damon. “But the ending ceremony is done by older students. Elena, how many seniors will be doing the readings this year?”

“Just three of us.” Elena had to turn to address her aunt, and it was while she was looking at Aunt Judith’s smiling face that she heard the voice.

“Death.”

Aunt Judith gasped. Robert paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. Elena wished, wildly and absolutely hopelessly, for Meredith.

“Death,” said the voice again. “Death is in this house.”

Elena looked around the table and saw that there was no one to help her. They were all staring at Bonnie, motionless as subjects in a photograph.

Bonnie herself was staring into the candle flame. Her face was blank, her eyes wide, as they had been before when this voice spoke through her. Now, those sightless eyes turned toward Elena. “Your death,” the voice said. “Your death is waiting, Elena. It is—”

Bonnie seemed to choke. Then she pitched forward and almost landed in her dinner plate.

There was an instant’s paralysis, and then everyone moved. Robert jumped up and pulled at Bonnie’s shoulders, lifting her. Bonnie’s skin had gone bluish-white, her eyes were closed. Aunt Judith fluttered around her, dabbing at her face with a damp napkin. Damon watched with thoughtful, narrowed eyes.

“She’s all right,” Robert said, looking up in obvious relief. “I think she just fainted. It must have been some kind of hysterical attack.” But Elena didn’t breathe again until Bonnie opened groggy eyes and asked what everyone was staring at.

It put an effective end to the dinner. Robert insisted that Bonnie be taken home at once, and in the activity that followed Elena found time for a whispered word with Damon.

“Get out!”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“I said, get out! Now! Go. Or I’ll tell them you’re the killer.”

He looked reproachful. “Don’t you think a guest deserves a little more consideration?” he said, but at her expression he shrugged and smiled.

“Thank you for having me for dinner,” he said aloud to Aunt Judith, who was walking past carrying a blanket to the car. “I hope I can return the favor sometime.” To Elena he added, “Be seeing you.”

Well, that was clear enough, Elena thought, as Robert drove away with a somber Matt and a sleepy Bonnie. Aunt Judith was on the phone with Mrs. McCullough.

“I don’t know what it is with these girls, either,” she said. “First Vickie, now Bonnie… and Elena has not been herself lately…”

While Aunt Judith talked and Margaret searched for the missing Snowball, Elena paced.

She would have to call Stefan. That was all there was to it. She wasn’t worried about Bonnie; the other times this had happened hadn’t seemed to do permanent damage. And Damon would have better things to do than harass Elena’s friends tonight.

He was coming here, to collect for the “favor” he’d done her. She knew without a doubt that that was the meaning of his final words. And it meant she would have to tell Stefan everything, because she needed him tonight, needed his protection.

Only, what could Stefan do? Despite all her pleas and arguments last week, he had refused to take her blood. He’d insisted that his Powers would return without it, but Elena knew he was still vulnerable right now. Even if Stefan were here, could he stop Damon? Could he do it without being killed himself?

Bonnie’s house was no refuge. And Meredith was gone. There was no one to help her, no one she could trust. But the thought of waiting here alone tonight, knowing that Damon was coming, was unbearable.

She heard Aunt Judith click down the receiver. Automatically, she moved toward the kitchen, Stefan’s number running through her mind. Then she stopped, and slowly turned around to look at the living room she’d just left.

She looked at the floor to ceiling windows and at the elaborate fireplace with its beautifully scrolled molding. This room was part of the original house, the one that had almost completely burned in the Civil War. Her own bedroom was just above.

A great light was beginning to dawn. Elena looked at the molding around the ceiling, at where it joined the more modern dining room. Then she almost ran toward the stairs, her heart beating fast.

“Aunt Judith?” Her aunt paused on the stairway. “Aunt Judith, tell me something. Did Damon go into the living room?”

“What!” Aunt Judith blinked at her in distraction.

“Did Robert take Damon into the living room? Please think, Aunt Judith! I need to know.”

“Why, no, I don’t think so. No, he didn’t. They came in and went straight to the dining room. Elena, what on earth?…” This last as Elena impulsively threw her arms around her and hugged her.

“Sorry, Aunt Judith. I’m just happy,” said Elena. Smiling, she turned to go back down the stairs.

“Well, I’m glad someone’s happy, after the way dinner turned out. Although that nice boy, Damon, seemed to enjoy himself. Do you know, Elena, he seemed quite taken with you, in spite of the way you were acting.”

Elena turned back around. “So?”

“Well, I just thought you might give him a chance, that’s all. I thought he was very pleasant. The kind of young man I like to see around here.”

Elena goggled a moment, then swallowed to keep the hysterical laughter from escaping. Her aunt was suggesting that she take up Damon instead of Stefan… because Damon was safer. The kind of nice young man any aunt would like. “Aunt Judith,” she began, gasping, but then she realized it was useless. She shook her head mutely, throwing her hands up in defeat, and watched her aunt go up the stairs.

Usually Elena slept with her door closed. But tonight she left it open and lay on her bed gazing out into the darkened hallway. Every so often she glanced at the luminous numbers of the clock on the nightstand beside her.

There was no danger that she would fall asleep. As the minutes crawled by, she almost began to wish she could. Time moved with agonizing slowness. Eleven o’clock… eleven thirty… midnight. One a.m. One thirty. Two.