Powerful forever."
Sharp white teeth and golden eyes shining in the candlelight, Ethan reached out toward the next pledge as Matt struggled again to shout, to fight. Ethan continued,
"Stuart, step forward."
Elena smel ed so good, rich and sweet like an exotic ripe fruit. Damon wanted to simply bury his head in the soft skin at the crook of her neck and just inhale her for a decade or two. Snaking his arm through hers, he pul ed her closer.
"You can't come in with me," she told him for the second time. "I might be able to get James to talk to me because it's a question about my parents, but I don't think he'l tel me anything if someone else is there. Whatever the truth is about the Vitale Society and my parents, I think he's embarrassed about it. Or afraid, or ... something." Without paying attention to what she was doing, Elena shifted her grip and held on to Damon's arm more firmly.
"Fine," Damon said stubbornly. "I'l wait outside. I won't let him see me. But you're not to walk across campus at night by yourself. It's not safe."
"Yes, Damon," Elena said in a convincing imitation of meekness, and rested her head on his shoulder. The lemony scent of her shampoo mixed with the more essential Elena smel of her. Damon sighed with contentment.
She cared for him, he knew that, and Stefan had taken himself out of the picture. She was stil young, his princess, and a human heart could heal. Maybe, with Stefan gone, she would final y see how much closer she was, mind and soul, to Damon, how perfectly they fit together.
In any case, she was his for now. He lifted his free hand and stroked her head, her silky hair pliant beneath his fingers, and smiled.
The professor's house was barely off campus, just across the street from the gilded entrance gates. They'd almost reached the edge of campus when a familiar presence that had been lurking nearby at last came very close.
Damon wheeled to scan the shadows, pul ing Elena with him.
"What is it?" Elena said, alarmed.
Come out, Damon thought with exasperation, sending his silent message toward the thickest shadows at the base of a crowd of oak trees. You know you can't hide from me.
One dark shadow detached itself from the rest, stepping forward on the path. Stefan simply gazed at the ground, shoulders slumped, his hands loose and open by his sides. Elena gasped, a smal hurt sound.
Stefan looked terrible, Damon thought, not without sympathy. His face seemed hol ow and strained, his cheekbones more prominent than usual, and Damon would have bet that he wasn't feeding properly. Damon felt a twinge of disquiet. He didn't take pleasure in causing his brother pain. Not anymore.
"Well?" Damon said, raising his eyebrows.
Stefan glanced up at him. I don't want to fight with you, Damon, he said silently.
So don't, Damon shot back at him, and Stefan's mouth twitched in a half smile of acknowledgment.
"Stefan," Elena said suddenly, sounding like the word had been jerked out of her. "Please, Stefan." Stefan stared down at the path under his feet, not meeting her eyes. "I sensed you were nearby, Elena, and I felt your anxiety," he said wearily. "I thought you might have been in trouble. I'm sorry, I was mistaken. I shouldn't have come."
Elena stiffened, and her long dark lashes fel over her eyes, hiding, Damon was almost sure, the beginnings of tears.
A long silence stretched between them. Final y, irritated by the tension, Damon made an effort to ease it. "So," he said casual y, "we broke into the campus security office last night."
Stefan looked up with a flicker of interest. "Oh? Did you find anything useful?"
"Crime scene photos, but they weren't very helpful," Damon said, shrugging. "The folders were marked with black Vs, so we're trying to figure out what that means.
Elena's going to talk to her professor about the Vitale Society, see if it could have anything to do with them."
"The... Vitale Society?" Stefan said hesitantly.
Damon waved a hand dismissively. "A secret society from back in the day when Elena's parents were here," he said. "Who knows? It may be nothing."
Drawing a hand across his face, Stefan seemed to be thinking hard. "Oh, no," he muttered. Then, looking at Elena for the first time, he asked, "Where's Matt?"
"Matt?" Elena echoed, startled out of her wistful contemplation of Stefan. "Um, I think he had some kind of meeting tonight. Footbal stuff, maybe?"
"I have to go," Stefan said tightly, and was immediately gone. With his enhanced abilities, Damon could hear Stefan's light footsteps racing away. But to Elena, he knew, Stefan had been nothing but a silently vanishing blur.
Elena turned to Damon, her face crumpling in what he recognized as a prelude to more tears. "Why would he fol ow me if he doesn't want to talk to me?" she said, her voice hoarse with sorrow.
Damon gritted his teeth. He was trying hard to be patient, to wait for Elena to give him her heart, but she kept thinking of Stefan. "He told you," he said, keeping his voice even. "He wants to make sure you're safe, but he doesn't want to be with you. But I do." Firmly recapturing her arm with his, he tugged her lightly forward. "Shal we?"
Chapter Thirty-Six
When he opened his door and saw Elena, James's face crumpled, just for a fraction of a second, and he stepped backward, as if he was considering closing the door in her face. Then he seemed to think better of it, and he opened it wider, his face creasing into its familiar smile.
"Why, Elena," he said, "My dear, I hardly expected a visitor at this hour. I'm afraid this isn't the best time." He cleared his throat. "I'd be delighted to see you at school, during office hours. Mondays and Fridays, remember?