Phantom (10 page)

At first he couldn’t see why she hadn’t come to the surface. Then Meredith gestured emphatically, reaching to fumble at long tendrils of pondweed that had somehow become entangled with her legs.

Stefan swam down, pushing against the white water from the falls, and tried to work his hand under the pondweed to pull it off her. It was wrapped so tightly around Meredith’s legs that he couldn’t get his fingers beneath it. Her skin was pressed white by the strands.

Stefan struggled for a moment, then swam closer and let Power surge into him, sharpening and lengthening his canines. He bit, careful not to scratch Meredith’s legs, and pulled at the pondweed, but it resisted him.

A little late, he realized that the resilience of the plants must be supernatural: His Power-enhanced strength was enough to break bones, tear through metal, and should have had no problem with a bit of pondweed.

And finally—so
slow
, he reprimanded himself, always just so damn slow—he realized what he was looking at. Stefan felt his eyes widen in horror.

The tight strands of pondweed against Meredith’s long legs spelled out a name.

damon

W
here were they? Elena watched the water anxiously. If anything had happened to Meredith or Stefan, it was Elena’s fault.
She
had convinced Stefan to let Meredith jump the falls.

His objections had been totally reasonable; she could see that now. Meredith had been marked for death. For God’s sake, Celia had almost been killed simply getting off a train. What had Meredith been thinking, jumping off a cliff into water when she was in the same sort of peril? What had
Elena
been thinking of to let her? She should have been by Stefan’s side, holding Meredith back.

And
Stefan
. She knew he ought to be fine; the rational part of her brain kept reminding her that Stefan was a
vampire.
He didn’t even need to breathe. He could stay underwater for days. He was incredibly strong.

But not so long ago, she had thought Stefan was gone forever, stolen by the kitsune. Bad things
could
happen to him—vampire or not. If she lost him now through her own stupid fault, through her own stubbornness and insistence that everyone pretend that life could be the way it used to be—that they could have some simple fun without doom following them—Elena would lie down and die.

“Do you see anything?” Bonnie asked, a tremble in her voice. Her freckles stood out in dark dots against her pale face, and her normally exuberant red curls were plastered flat and dark against her head.

“No. Not from up here.” Elena shot her a grim look, and before she even consciously made the decision, she dived into the pool.

Underwater, Elena’s vision was clouded by the froth and sand thrown up by the falls, and she treaded water for a moment as she tried to peer around. She saw a patch of darkness that looked like it might be human figures off near the middle of the pool and struck out toward it.

Thank God,
Elena thought fervently. When she got closer, the darkness resolved itself into Meredith and Stefan. They seemed to be struggling against something in the water, Stefan’s face near Meredith’s legs, Meredith’s hands reaching desperately toward the surface. Her face was bluish from lack of oxygen, and her eyes were wide with panic.

Just as Elena came close to them, Stefan jerked sharply and Meredith shot upward. As if in slow motion, Elena saw Meredith’s arm swing toward her as Meredith rose. A sudden blow sent Elena shooting backward toward the rocks behind the falls, the falls pushing her deeper underwater as she passed under them.

This is bad,
she had just enough time to think, and then her head hit the rocks and everything went black.

When Elena awoke, she found herself in her room at home, still in her bathing suit. Sun shone through the window, but Elena was wet and shivering with cold. Water trickled from her hair and bathing suit, droplets winding down her arms and legs and puddling on the carpet.

She was unsurprised to see that Damon was there, looking as sleek and dark and poised as ever. He’d been perusing her bookshelf, as comfortable as if he were in his own home, and he wheeled around to stare at her.

“Damon,” she said weakly, confused but, as always, so happy to see him.

“Elena!” he said, appearing delighted for a moment, and then he frowned.

“No,” he said sharply. “Elena,
wake up
.”

“Elena, wake up.” The voice was frightened and desperate, and Elena fought the darkness that seemed to be holding her down and opened her eyes.

Damon?
she almost said, but bit the word back. Because of course it was Stefan who was gazing worriedly into her eyes, and even sweet, understanding Stefan might object to her calling him by his dead brother’s name twice in one day.

“Stefan,” she said, remembering. “Is Meredith all right?”

Stefan wrapped her tightly in his arms. “She will be. Oh, God, Elena,” he said. “I thought I was going to lose you. I had to pull you to shore. I didn’t know . . .” His voice trailed off, and he hugged her even closer to his chest.

Elena did a quick self-inventory. She was sore. Her throat and lungs hurt, probably from breathing in water and coughing it out. There was sand all over her, coating her arms and bathing suit, and it was starting to itch. But she was alive.

“Oh, Stefan,” Elena said, and closed her eyes for a moment, resting her head against him. She was so cold and wet, and Stefan was so warm. She could hear his heart beating beneath her ear. Slower than a human’s, but there, steady and reassuring.

When she opened her eyes again, Matt was kneeling next to them. “Are you okay?” he asked her. When she nodded, he turned his gaze to Stefan. “I should have jumped in,” he said guiltily. “I should have helped you save them. Everything seemed to happen so fast, and by the time I knew something was really wrong, you were bringing them back out of the water.”

She sat up and touched Matt’s arm, feeling a warm flood of affection for him. He was so
good
, and he felt so responsible for all of them. “Everyone’s fine, Matt,” she said. “That’s what matters.”

A few feet away, Alaric was inspecting Meredith as Bonnie hovered over them. Celia stood a little farther away, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched Alaric and Meredith.

When Alaric shifted away, Meredith caught Elena’s eye. Her face was white with pain, but she managed to give her an apologetic smile.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” she said. “And Stefan, I should have listened to you, or just had more sense and stayed on shore.” She grimaced. “I think I might have sprained my ankle. Alaric’s going to drive me to the hospital so they can tape it up.”

“What I want to know,” Bonnie said, “is whether this means it’s all over. I mean, Celia’s name appeared, and she was almost strangled in the train doors. And Meredith’s name appeared, and she almost drowned. They both got saved—by Stefan, good job, Stefan—so does that mean they’re safe now? We haven’t seen any more names.”

Elena’s heart lightened with hope. But Matt was shaking his head.

“It’s not that easy,” he said darkly. “It’s never that easy. Just because Meredith and Celia could be saved one time, it doesn’t mean whatever it is isn’t still after them. And even though her name wasn’t called, Elena was in danger, too.”

Stefan’s arms were still around Elena, but they felt hard and unyielding. When she glanced up at his face, his jaw was set and his green eyes full of pain.

“I’m afraid it’s not the end. Another name has appeared,” he told them. “Meredith, I don’t think you could have seen it, but the plants you were tangled in spelled it out against your legs.” Everyone gasped. Elena clutched his arm, her stomach dropping. She looked at Matt, at Bonnie, at Stefan himself. They’d never seemed more precious to her. Which one of the people who she loved was in danger?

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Meredith said wryly. Her color was better, Elena noted, and her voice sounded crisp and competent again, although she winced as Alaric touched her ankle gently. “Whose name was it?”

Stefan hesitated. His eyes darted to Elena and then quickly away. He licked his lips in a nervous gesture she’d never seen from him before. Taking a deep breath, he finally said, “The name the plants spelled out was Damon.”

Bonnie sat down with a thump, as though her legs had given way. “But Damon’s dead,” she said, her brown eyes wide.

But for some reason the news didn’t shock Elena to the core. Instead, a hard, bright feeling of hope flooded her. It would make sense
.
She had never believed someone like Damon could just be
gone
.

“Maybe he’s not,” she heard herself say, lost in thought as she recalled the Damon in her dreams. When she had passed out under the water, she had seen him again, and he had told her to wake up. Was that dreamlike behavior? It could have been her subconscious warning her, she supposed doubtfully, but his
name
had appeared underwater.

Could he be alive? He had died—she had no doubt about that. But he was a vampire; he had died before, and lived again. The Guardians had tried, they said, and they had said there was no way to bring Damon back. Was it a pointless hope? Was the eager beating of her heart at the thought that Damon might be alive just Elena fooling herself?

Elena snapped back to the present to find her friends staring at her. There was a moment of complete silence, as if even the birds had stopped singing.

“Elena,” Stefan said gently. “We saw him die.”

Elena gazed into Stefan’s green eyes. Surely, if there was any reason to hope, he would feel it the same way she did. But his gaze was steady and sad. Stefan, she saw, had no doubt that Damon was dead. Her heart squeezed painfully.

“Who’s Damon?” Celia asked, but no one answered.

Alaric was frowning. “If Damon’s definitely dead,” he said, “if you’re sure about that, then whatever is causing these accidents might be playing on your grief, trying to hit you where it hurts. Perhaps there’s an emotional danger here that it’s trying to create as well as a physical one.”

“If spelling out Damon’s name is meant to upset us, then it’s aiming at Stefan and Elena,” Matt said. “I mean, it’s no secret that Meredith and I didn’t like him much.” He crossed his arms defensively. “I’m sorry, Stefan, but it’s true.”

“I respected Damon,” said Meredith, “especially after he worked so hard with us in the Dark Dimension, but it’s true that his death didn’t . . . affect me the way it did Elena and Stefan. I have to agree with Matt.”

Elena glanced at Bonnie and noticed that her jaw was clenched and her eyes glistened with angry tears.

As Elena watched, Bonnie’s bright eyes dulled and lost focus, gazing off into the distance. She stiffened and turned her face up toward the top of the cliff.

“She’s having a vision,” Elena said, jumping to her feet.

Bonnie spoke in a voice flatter and rougher than her own. “He wants you, Elena,” she said. “He wants you.”

Elena followed her gaze toward the cliff. For a wild moment, that hard, bright hope came bursting back into her chest again. She fully expected to see Damon up there, smirking down at them. It would be just like him, if he’d somehow survived death, to show up suddenly, make a grand entrance, and then pass off the miracle with a shrug and a dry quip.

And there
was
someone standing at the top of the cliff. Celia gave a little scream, and Matt swore loudly.

It wasn’t Damon, though. Elena could tell that right away. The silhouetted figure was broader than Damon’s lithe form. But the sun was so bright she couldn’t make out the person’s features, and she lifted her hand to shade her eyes.

Like a halo, blond curly hair gleamed in the sunlight. Elena frowned.

“I think,” she said, recognition dawning on her, “that’s Caleb Smallwood.”

A
s soon as Elena spoke Caleb’s name, the person on the cliff began to pull back out of their line of sight. After a moment of hesitation, Matt took off running pell-mell up the path toward where they’d seen him.

It should have been silly, Elena thought, the way they all reacted as if they’d been threatened. Anyone had a right to hike the trails at Hot Springs, and Caleb—if it was Caleb—hadn’t
done
anything but peer down over the edge of the cliff at them. But nevertheless, there had been something ominous about the figure hovering so watchfully above them, and their reaction didn’t
feel
silly.

Bonnie gasped and her body relaxed as she came out of the trance.

“What happened?” she asked. “Oh, gosh, not
again.
”

“Do you remember anything?” Elena said.

Bonnie shook her head mournfully.

“You said, ‘He wants you, Elena,’” said Celia, examining Bonnie with a clinically enthusiastic glint in her eye. “You don’t remember who you were talking about?”

“I guess if he wanted Elena, it could have been
anyone
,” Bonnie said, her eyes narrowing. Elena stared at her. Had there been an uncharacteristic catty edge to Bonnie’s tone? But Bonnie grinned ruefully back at her, and Elena decided the comment had just been a joke.

A few minutes later, Matt came back down the path, shaking his head.

“Whoever it was just vanished,” he said, his forehead crinkled in confusion. “I couldn’t see anyone on the trail in either direction.”

“Do you think he’s a werewolf, like Tyler was?” Bonnie asked.

“You’re not the first person who’s asked me that,” Elena said, glancing at Stefan. “I just don’t know. I don’t think so, though. Caleb seems totally nice and normal. Remember how wolfy Tyler was even before he became a werewolf? Those big white teeth and his sort of animalness? Caleb’s not like that.”

“Then why would he spy on us?”

“I don’t know,” Elena said again, frustrated. She couldn’t think about this now. Her mind was still swimming with the question: Could Damon be alive? What did Caleb matter, compared to that? “Maybe he was just hiking. I’m not even sure it was Caleb. It could have been some other guy with curly blond hair instead. Just a random hiker who got scared off when Matt went charging up the hill toward him.”

Their discussion went in circles until eventually Alaric took Meredith off to the hospital to have a doctor check out her ankle. The rest of them adjourned to the top of the falls to gather up the picnic stuff.

They all nibbled at the chips and brownies and fruit, and Matt made himself a hot dog on the hibachi grill, but the joy had gone out of the day.

When Elena’s phone rang, it was a welcome relief. “Hey, Aunt Judith,” she said, forcing a cheerful note into her voice.

“Hi,” Aunt Judith said hurriedly. “Listen, I have to go to the auditorium to help do all the girls’ hair and makeup, and Robert already will have to leave work early to get to the recital on time. Would you do me a favor and pick up some flowers for Margaret on your way over? Something sweet and ballerinaish, if you know what I mean.”

“No problem,” Elena said. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ll see you there.” She wanted to forget for a while: forget mystery hikers and near-drownings and her constant alternating feelings of hope and despair about the appearance of Damon’s name. Watching her little sister twirl around in a tutu sounded just about right.

“Terrific,” said Aunt Judith. “Thank you. Well, if you are all the way up at Hot Springs, you’d better start heading home soon.”

“Okay, Aunt Judith,” Elena said. “I’ll get going now.”

They said good-bye, and Elena hung up and started gathering her things together. “Stefan, can I take your car?” she asked. “I need to get to Margaret’s dance recital. You can give him a ride back, right, Matt? I’ll call you guys later and we’ll work on figuring this out.”

Stefan got to his feet. “I’ll come with you.”

“What?” said Elena. “No, you need to stay with Celia and get to the hospital to take care of Meredith, too.”

Stefan took her arm. “Don’t go, then. You shouldn’t be alone now. None of us are safe. There’s something out there hunting us, and we need to all stick together. If we don’t let each other out of our sight, then we can all protect one another.”

His leaf green eyes were clear and full of anxiety and love, and Elena felt a pang of regret as she tugged her arm gently out of his grasp. “I need to go,” she said quietly. “If I spend all my time being scared and hiding, then the Guardians might as well have let me stay dead. I need to be with my family and live as normal a life as I can.”

She kissed him gently, lingering for a moment against the softness of his lips. “And you know they haven’t targeted me yet,” she said. “Nothing’s spelled out my name. But I promise I’ll be careful.”

Stefan’s eyes were hard. “What about what Bonnie said?” he argued. “That he wants you? What if that means Caleb? He’s hanging around at your house, Elena! He could come after you at any time!”

“Well, I’m not going to be there. I’ll be at a dance recital with my family beside me,” Elena pointed out. “Nothing will happen to me today. It’s not my turn yet, is it?”

“Elena, don’t be stupid!” Stefan snapped. “You’re in danger.”

Elena bristled.
Stupid?
Stefan, no matter how stressed or anxious, had never treated her with less than total respect. “Excuse me?”

Stefan reached for her. “Elena,” he said. “Let me come with you. I’ll stay with you until nightfall and then keep watch outside your house tonight.”

“It’s really not necessary,” Elena said. “Protect Meredith and Celia instead. They’re the ones who need you.” Stefan’s face fell, and he looked so devastated that she relented a little, adding, “Please don’t worry, Stefan. I’ll be careful, and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing more, and she turned to make her way down the trail, not looking back.

Once they were back at the boardinghouse, Stefan couldn’t relax.

He couldn’t remember ever, in all his long life, feeling so edgy and uncomfortable in his own body. He itched and ached with anxiety. It was as if his skin were fitted too tightly over his bones, and he moved irritably, tapping his fingers against the table, cracking his neck, shrugging his shoulders, shifting back and forth in his chair.

He wants you, Elena.
What the hell did that mean?
He wants you.

And the sight of that dark, hulking figure up on the cliff, a shadow blotting out the sun, those golden curls shining like a halo above the figure’s head . . .

Stefan knew he should be with Elena. All he wanted to do was to protect her.

But she had
dismissed
him, had—metaphorically, at least—patted him on the head and told him to stay, faithful guard dog that he was, and watch over someone else. To keep someone else safe. No matter that she was clearly in danger, that someone—some
he—
wanted her. Still she didn’t want Stefan to be with her right now.

What
did
Elena want? Now that Stefan stopped to think about it, it seemed that Elena wanted a host of incompatible things. To have Stefan as her loyal knight. Which he would always, always be, he asserted to himself, clenching his fist tightly.

But she also wanted to hold on to the memories of Damon, and to keep that part of her she had shared with him private and pristine, separate from everyone else, even from Stefan.

And she wanted so much more, too: to be the savior of her friends, of her town, of her world. To be loved and admired. To be in control.

And to be a normal girl again. Well, that normal life she had lived had been destroyed forever when she met Stefan, when he made the choice to let her into his world. He knew it was his fault, all of it, everything that followed after that, but he couldn’t be sorry that she was with him now. He loved her too much to have any room for regret. She was the center of his world, but at the same time, he knew it wasn’t the same for her.

A hole inside him gaped with longing, and he moved restlessly in his chair. His canine teeth lengthened in his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so . . . wrong. He couldn’t get the image of Caleb out of his head, looking down at them from the top of the cliff, as if checking to see whether whatever violence he’d hoped to cause had come to pass.

“More tea, Stefan?” Mrs. Flowers asked him softly, breaking into his furious thoughts. She was leaning forward over a little table with the teapot, her wide blue eyes watching him from behind her glasses. Her face was so compassionate that he wondered what she could see in him. This elderly, wise woman always seemed to perceive so much more than anyone else; perhaps she could tell how he was feeling now.

He realized she was still waiting politely for his answer, the teapot suspended in one hand, and he nodded automatically. “Thank you, Mrs. Flowers,” he said, offering forth his cup, which was still half-full of cold tea.

He didn’t really like the taste of normal human drinks; he hadn’t for a long time now, but sometimes drinking them made him fit in, made the others relax a bit more around him. When he didn’t eat or drink at all, he could sense Elena’s friends prickling, the hairs on the back of their necks rising, as some subconscious voice in them noted that he was not like them, adding it to all the other little differences he couldn’t control, and thereby concluding he was
wrong
.

Mrs. Flowers filled his cup and sat back, satisfied. Picking up her knitting—something pink and fluffy—she smiled. “It’s so nice to have all you young people gathered together here,” she commented. “Such a lovely group of children.”

Glancing at the others, Stefan had to wonder whether Mrs. Flowers was being gently sarcastic.

Alaric and Meredith had returned from the hospital, where her injury had been diagnosed as a mild sprain and taped up by the emergency room nurse. Meredith’s usually serene face was tight, probably at least partially because of the pain and her irritation at knowing she’d have to stay off her foot for a couple of days.

And partially, Stefan suspected, because of where she was sitting. For some reason, when Alaric had helped her hobble into the living room and over to the couch, he had parked her directly next to Celia.

Stefan didn’t consider himself an expert on romance—after all, he’d lived for hundreds of years and fallen in love only twice, and his romance with Katherine had been a disaster—but even he couldn’t miss the tension between Meredith and Celia. He wasn’t sure whether Alaric was as oblivious to it as he seemed or whether he was pretending obliviousness in the hope that the situation would blow over.

Celia had changed into an elegant white sundress and sat flipping through a journal titled
Forensic Anthropology
, looking cool and composed. Meredith was, in contrast, unusually grimy and smudged, her beautiful features and smooth olive skin marred by tiredness and pain. Alaric had taken a chair next to the couch.

Celia, ignoring Meredith, leaned across her toward Alaric.

“I think you might find this interesting,” she said to him. “It’s an article on the dental patterns in mummified bodies found on an island quite near Unmei no Shima.”

Meredith shot Celia a nasty look. “Oh, yes,” she said quietly. “Teeth, how fascinating.” Celia’s mouth flattened into a line, but she didn’t reply.

Alaric took the magazine with a polite murmur of interest, and Meredith frowned.

Stefan frowned, too. All the tension humming between Meredith, Celia, and Alaric—and now that he was watching, he could tell that Alaric knew exactly what was going on between the two young women and was flattered, irritated, and anxious in equal parts—was interfering with Stefan’s Powers.

While he’d sat and sipped his first cup of tea, reluctantly following Elena’s command to “stay,” Stefan had been sending out tendrils of Power, trying to sense whether Elena had made it home, whether anything had stopped her on her way. Whether Caleb had stopped her.

But he hadn’t been able to find her, even with his senses extended to their utmost. Once or twice, he’d caught what felt like a fleeting impression of what might be the very specific sound, scent, and aura that unmistakably meant
Elena
, but then it slipped away from him.

He’d blamed the fact that he couldn’t locate her on his weakening Powers, but now it was clear to him what was keeping him from finding her. All the emotion in this room: the pounding hearts, the flushes of anger, the acrid scent of jealousy.

Stefan pulled himself back, tried to quell the rage rising within him. These people—his
friends
, he reminded himself—were not purposely interfering. They couldn’t help their emotions. He took a swig of his rapidly cooling tea, trying to relax before he lost control, and winced at the taste. Tea wasn’t what he was craving, he realized. He needed to get out to the forest soon and hunt. He needed blood.

No, he needed to find out exactly what Caleb Smallwood was up to. He stood up so abruptly, so violently, the chair rocked unsteadily beneath him.

“Stefan?” Matt asked in an alarmed voice.

“What is it?” Bonnie’s eyes were enormous.

Stefan glanced around the circle of distracted faces, now all watching him. “I have to go.” Then he turned on his heels and ran.