L. Smith - Moonsong

“Maybe you just didn’t see her?” Elena wondered aloud.

“It’s a big library, she could have been tucked away in a study carrel or something.”

“I would have found her,” Damon said briefly. “I’m good at finding people.” His teeth shone white for a moment under the streetlights.

The problem was that the library was so normal. Once they were inside, Elena looked around at the gray-carpeted floors, the beige chairs, the rows and rows of bookshelves, the buzzing fluorescent lights. It was a place to study. It didn’t look like any secrets were hidden here.

“Upstairs?” she suggested.

They took the stairs rather than the elevator and worked their way down from the top floor. Going from floor to floor, they found … nothing. People reading and taking notes.

Books, books, and more books. In the basement, there was a room of vending machines and smal tables for study breaks. Nothing unexpected.

Elena paused in a hal way of administrative offices near the vending machine. “We’re not going to find anything,” she told Damon. His face twisted in frustration, and she added, “I believe you that there’s something going on here, I do, but without any leads, we don’t even know what we’re looking for yet.”

The door behind her, marked Research Office, opened, and Matt came out.

He looked tired, and Elena felt a quick flash of guilt.

After Christopher’s death, she and Meredith and Bonnie had meant to stick close to Matt. But he was always busy with footbal or class and didn’t seem to want them around.

She realized with a shock that she hadn’t talked to him in days.

“Oh, hey, Elena,” Matt said, looking startled. “Are you going to the party tonight?” He greeted Damon with an awkward nod.

“Mutt,” Damon acknowledged, giving a half smile, and Matt rol ed his eyes.

As they chatted about the party and classes and Bonnie’s new semiboyfriend, Elena cataloged her impressions of Matt. Tired, yes—his eyes were a little bloodshot, and there was grimness to his lips that hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. But why did he smel so strongly of soap? It wasn’t like he was particularly clean, she thought, inspecting a grubby trail tracing down Matt’s cheek to his neck. It looked like something had been dripped on his head. It was almost like he had been cleaning something. Something real y dirty.

Struck by a new thought, she glanced at his chest.

Surely he wouldn’t be wearing one of the V pins? As if aware of what she was wondering, Matt pul ed his jacket more tightly around him.

“What were you doing in that office?” she asked him abruptly.

“Uh.” Matt’s face was blank for half a second, and then he glanced up at the door, at the sign saying Research Office. “Research, of course,” he said. “I’ve got to go,” he added. “I’l catch you at the party later, okay, Elena?” He had half turned away, when Elena impulsively put out her hand to catch his arm. “Where have you been, Matt?” she asked. “I’ve hardly seen you lately.” Matt grinned, but he didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Footbal ,” he said. “Col ege bal ’s a big deal.” He gently pul ed away from her restraining hand. “Later, Elena.

Damon.”

They watched him walk away, and then Damon nodded toward the door Matt had come out of. “Shal we?” he said.

“Shal we what?” Elena asked, puzzled.

“Oh, like that wasn’t suspicious,” Damon said. He put his hand on the knob, and Elena heard the lock snap as he forced it open.

Inside was a very boring room. A desk, a chair, a smal rug on the floor.

Maybe a little too boring?

“A research office without books? Or even a computer?” Elena asked. Damon cocked his head to one side, considering, then, with a swift movement, pul ed aside the rug.

Below it was the clear outline of a trapdoor. “Bingo,” Elena breathed. She stepped forward, already bending down to try and pry it open, but Damon pul ed her back.

“Whoever is using this could stil be down there,” he said. “Matt just left, and I doubt he was alone.” Matt. Whatever was going on, Matt knew about it.

“Maybe I should talk to him,” Elena said.

Damon frowned. “Let’s wait until we know what we’re dealing with,” he said. “We don’t know what Matt’s involvement is. This could be dangerous for you.” He had taken hold of her arm again and was pul ing her gently, steadily out of the room. “We’l come back later.” Elena let him lead her away, grappling with what he’d said. Dangerous? she thought. Surely Matt wouldn’t be doing anything that would be a danger to Elena?

21

“What’s taking so long?” Bonnie asked, bouncing on the bal s of her feet. “Stop being so hyper,” Meredith said absently, craning her neck to see over the crowd outside McAl ister. There was some kind of bottleneck by the entrance to the dorm that was slowing everyone down. She shivered in her thin top; it was starting to get cold at night.

“Security’s at the door,” Bonnie said as they got closer to the entrance. “Are they carding people to get in?” Her voice was shril with outrage.

“They’re just checking that you have a student ID,” someone in the crowd told her, “to make sure you’re not a crazed kil er from off campus.”

“Yeah,” his friend said. “Only on-campus kil ers al owed.” A couple of people laughed nervously. Bonnie fel silent, biting her lip, and Meredith shivered again, this time for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.

When they final y got to the front of the line, the security guards glanced quickly at their IDs and waved them through. Inside, it was crowded and music was pumping, but no one real y seemed to be in a partying mood. People stood in smal groups, talking in undertones and glancing around nervously. The presence of the security guards had reminded everyone of the danger lurking unseen on campus. Anyone could be responsible, even someone in the room at that very moment.

As she thought about that, Meredith’s view of the room shifted, the other students around her changing from innocent to sinister. That curly-headed frat boy in the corner

—was he eyeing his pretty companion with something more than simple lust? The faces of strangers twisted viciously, and Meredith took a deep breath, calming herself until everyone looked normal again.

Samantha was coming toward her, a red plastic cup in her hand. “Here,” she said, handing Meredith a soda.

“Everyone’s on edge tonight, it’s creepy. We’d better stay alert and not drink,” she said, already on the same wavelength as Meredith.

Bonnie squeezed Meredith’s arm in farewel and took off into the crowd to look for Zander. Meredith sipped her drink and warily eyed the strangers surrounding her.

Despite the general malaise hanging over the party, some people were so wrapped up in each other that they were managing to have a good time anyway. She watched a couple kiss, as ful y focused on each other as if there was no one else in the world who mattered. They weren’t worrying about the attacks and disappearances on campus, and Meredith found herself feeling a sharp pang of envy. She missed Alaric, missed him with a bone-deep longing that stayed with her, even when she wasn’t consciously thinking about him.

“The kil er could be right here at this party,” Samantha said unhappily. “Shouldn’t we be able to sense something?

How can we protect anyone if we don’t know who we’re up against?”

“I know,” said Meredith. The crowd parted, and she saw a face she hadn’t expected: Stefan, leaning against the far wal . His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he glanced past her with a hopeful half smile already forming on his lips.

Poor guy. No matter what Meredith thought about Elena’s decision to take a break—and, for the record, Meredith thought that Elena was doing the right thing; her entanglement with both Salvatore brothers meant that they had al been heading for trouble—she couldn’t help pitying him. Stefan had the look of someone who was experiencing the same sharp pang of loneliness and desire as Meredith did when she thought of Alaric. It must be worse for him, because Elena was so close and because she chose to separate herself from him against his wishes.