Phantom (13 page)

“C
ookies,” Alaric said gravely. “Bonnie thinks she could manage to choke down a few cookies. Just to keep her strength up.”

“Cookies, got it,” said Meredith, rummaging in Mrs. Flowers’s kitchen cabinet to find a mixing bowl. She clunked a big china bowl that was probably older than she was onto the counter and checked the refrigerator. Eggs, milk, butter. Flour in the freezer. Vanilla and sugar in the cupboard.

“Look at you,” Alaric said admiringly as Meredith unwrapped a stick of butter. “You don’t even need a recipe. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Lots of things,” Meredith replied, basking in the warmth of Alaric’s gaze.

“What can I do to help?” he asked cheerfully.

“You can get another mixing bowl and measure two cups of flour and a teaspoon of baking powder into it,” Meredith told him. “I’ll beat the butter with the other ingredients in this bowl, and then we can put them together.”

“Got it.” Alaric found a bowl and measuring cups and started to measure out the items. Meredith watched his strong, tanned hands confidently leveling off the flour. Alaric had gorgeous hands, she thought. His shoulders were nice, too, and his face. All of him, really.

She realized she was ogling her boyfriend instead of stirring, and felt her cheeks color, even though no one was watching her. “Pass me the measuring cups when you’re done with them?”

He handed them to her. “I know something scary’s going on, and I want to protect Bonnie, too,” he said, smiling a little, “but I think she might be milking the situation a little. She loves that everyone’s pampering her.”

“Bonnie’s being very brave,” said Meredith primly, then flashed him a grin, “and, yes, she might be milking it.”

Matt came down the stairs and into the kitchen. “I think maybe Bonnie should have some tea when she gets out of her bubble bath,” he said. “Mrs. Flowers is busy putting protective spells on the bedroom Bonnie chose, but she said she has a mix of chamomile and rosemary that would be good, and to put honey in it.”

Meredith focused on mixing the cookie ingredients together as Matt boiled water and carefully measured dried herbs and honey to make the tea to Mrs. Flowers’s exact specifications. When he finally finished fussing over it, Matt picked up the fragile teacup and saucer carefully.

“Wait, maybe I’d better take the whole pot up,” he said. As he searched for a tray to carry it on, he asked, “Meredith, are you sure you and Bonnie got everything she might need from her house?”

“She was up there for nearly a half hour. She got everything she wanted,” said Meredith, “and if we missed anything, I’m sure Mrs. Flowers has some extras.”

“Good,” said Matt, his handsome face intent as he picked up the tea tray without spilling anything. “I just want to make sure Bonnie’s okay.”

He left the kitchen, and Meredith listened to his footsteps heading back upstairs. Once he was out of earshot, she and Alaric both burst out laughing.

“Yes, she’s definitely milking it,” said Meredith, when she’d stopped giggling.

Alaric pulled her toward him. His face was serious and intent now, and Meredith caught her breath. When they were this close, she could see the hidden flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, and they felt like a secret only Meredith knew.

“I love how you take care of your friend,” Alaric told her, his voice low. “What I love most is that you
know
she’s pushing it as far as she can, seeing what you’ll do for her, and you laugh, but you’re still going to give her whatever she needs.” He frowned a little. “No, that’s not right. I do love how you see the funny side of it, but what I love
most
is how well you take care of everyone you can.” He pulled her closer still. “I guess mostly I love
you
, Meredith.”

Meredith kissed him. How could she have worried that Celia would come between them? It was like there had been a mist filling her eyes, making it so that she was unable to see the simple truth: Alaric was crazy about her.

After a minute, she broke the kiss and turned back to the cookie dough. “Get a cookie sheet, would you?” she asked.

Alaric stood still for a moment. “Okay . . .” he said.

Closing her eyes, Meredith summoned all her strength. She had to tell him. She had promised herself she would.

He handed her a cookie sheet and she busied herself by scooping spoonfuls of dough onto it. “There’s something I need to tell you, Alaric,” she said.

Alaric froze next to her. “What is it?” he asked, his voice wary.

“It’s going to sound unbelievable.”

He gave a snort of laughter. “More unbelievable than everything else that’s happened since I met you?”

“Sort of,” Meredith said. “Or, at least, it’s specifically about me this time. I’ve been . . .” It was hard to say. “I come from a family of vampire hunters. All my life, I’ve been training to fight. I guess taking care of people is a family trait.” She smiled weakly.

Alaric stared at her.

“Say something,” Meredith prompted after a moment.

He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked wildly around. “I don’t know what to say. I’m surprised you never told me this. I thought”—he paused—“that we knew each other really well.”

“My family . . .” said Meredith miserably. “They made me swear that I would keep our secret. I never told anybody until a few days ago.”

Alaric closed his eyes for a minute and pressed his palms against them hard. When he opened them, he looked calmer. “I understand. I do.”

“Wait,” said Meredith. “There’s more.” The cookie sheet was full, and she cast about for something else to occupy her hands and eyes while she talked. She settled on a dish towel and twisted it nervously. “Do you remember that Klaus attacked my grandfather?”

Alaric nodded.

“Well, I found out a few days ago that he also attacked me, and stole my brother—the brother I’d never known I had—and took him away and made him a vampire. And he left me—I was only three—some kind of half vampire. A living girl, but one who needed to eat blood sausage and sometimes had . . . sharp teeth like a kitten’s.”

“Oh, Meredith . . .” Alaric’s face was full of compassion, and he moved toward her, hands out.
Toward me
, Meredith noted.
Not away, not afraid.

“Wait,” she said again. “Elena asked the Guardians to change things to the way they would have been if Klaus never came here.” She put down the dish towel. “So it never happened.”

“What?” Alaric said, staring at her.

Meredith nodded, a helpless, confused smile spreading over her face. “My grandfather died in a retirement home in Florida two years ago. I have a brother—one I don’t remember, unfortunately—he got sent away to boarding school when we were twelve and joined the military as soon as he turned eighteen. Apparently he’s the problem child of the family.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not a vampire. Not even a half vampire. Not now.”

Alaric was still staring at her. “Wow,” he said. “Wait a minute. Does that mean that Klaus is still alive? Could he come here, come after your family now?”

“I thought of that,” Meredith said, glad to address the practicalities. “I don’t
think
so. Elena asked the Guardians to change Fell’s Church so it was as if Klaus never came here. She didn’t ask them to change
Klaus
and his experience. For him, I think, logically, he did come here, long ago, and now he’s dead.” She smiled shakily. “I hope so, anyway.”

“So you’re safe,” Alaric said, “as safe as a vampire hunter might be. Is that all you needed to tell me?” When Meredith nodded, he reached for her and pulled her back into his arms. Holding her tightly, he said. “I would have loved you with sharp teeth, too. But I’m so glad for you.”

Meredith closed her eyes. She had needed to tell him, to know how he would have reacted if the Guardians hadn’t changed everything. A great warming gladness spread all through her.

Alaric pressed his lips against her hair.

“Wait,” she said once more, and he released her, looking inquisitive.

“The cookies.” Meredith laughed and put them in the oven, setting the timer for ten minutes.

They kissed until the buzzer rang.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Matt asked anxiously, standing by Bonnie’s bed. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything. Or maybe I should stay here. I could sleep on your floor. I know I snore, but I’d try not to, I swear.”

Bonnie gave him a brave little smile. “I’ll be fine, Matt. Thank you so much.”

With one last worried glance, Matt patted her hand awkwardly, then left the room. Bonnie knew he would toss and turn on his own bed, thinking of ways to keep her safe. Probably he would end up sleeping on the floor outside her door, she thought, giving a delighted little wriggle.

“Sleep well, my dear,” said Mrs. Flowers, taking his place by Bonnie’s bedside. “I have cast all the protective charms I know around you. I hope you like the tea. It’s my own special brew.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Flowers,” Bonnie said. “Good night.”

“You are enjoying this
way
too much,” said Meredith, who came in next carrying a plate of cookies. She was limping, but had insisted that she didn’t need a cane or crutch as long as her ankle was bandaged.

In fact . . . Bonnie took a closer look at Meredith. Her cheeks were flushed, and her usually smooth hair was a little mussed.
I think she’s very glad that Celia’s gone to UVA
, Bonnie thought with a smirk.

“I’m just trying to keep my spirits up,” Bonnie said with a mischievous smile. “And you know what they say: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. My lemonade is having Matt trying to fulfill my every need. It’s too bad we don’t have more boys around here.”

“Don’t forget about Alaric,” said Meredith. “He helped make the cookies. And he’s downstairs researching everything he can that might be related to this.”

“Ah, everyone catering to me, that’s what I like,” Bonnie joked. “Did I tell you how much I enjoyed the dinner you made? All my favorites . . . it was like my birthday. Or my last meal,” she added more soberly.

Meredith frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay in here? I know we’ve protected the house as well as we can, but we don’t really know what we’re fighting. And just because the last couple of attacks took place in daylight with the whole group around, it doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the way they have to be. What if whatever this is can get past our defenses?”

“I will be fine,” said Bonnie. Intellectually she knew she was in danger, but oddly, she didn’t feel scared. She was in a house with people she trusted, all of whom were focused wholeheartedly on her safety. Besides, she had a plan for the night—something she couldn’t do if Meredith slept in the room.

“Are you sure?” Meredith fretted.

“Yes,” Bonnie said emphatically. “If something bad was going to happen to me tonight, I’d know in advance, right? Because I’m psychic, and I get warnings about things.”

“Hmmm,” said Meredith, quirking one eyebrow. For a moment she looked like she was going to argue. Bonnie kept her gaze firm. Finally, Meredith put the tray of cookies on the table by the bed next to the teapot and cup Matt had brought up earlier, pulled the curtains across the window, and looked anxiously around to see what else could be done.

“Okay, then,” she said. “I’ll be right next door if you need me.”

“Thanks, Mer. Good night.” As soon as the knob clicked into place, Bonnie lay back in bed and bit into a cookie. Delicious.

A slow smile bloomed on her lips. She was the center of attention now, as if she were a Victorian heroine bravely suffering from some kind of wasting illness. She had been encouraged to pick out her favorite of the boardinghouse’s many bedrooms and had chosen this one. It was a charming room with creamy rose-patterned wallpaper and a maple sleigh bed.

Matt hadn’t left her side all night. Mrs. Flowers had fussed around her, fluffing pillows and offering her herbal tonics, and Alaric had been conscientiously researching protection spells in all the grimoires he could find. Even Celia, who had never been anything but snippy to her about her “visions,” promised before she left to let her know as soon as she found something helpful.

Bonnie turned on her side, inhaling the sweet scent of Mrs. Flowers’s tea. Here in this cozy room, it was impossible to feel like she needed protection, that she could be in danger this very second.

But was she? What was the time frame after one’s name was called? After Celia’s name had appeared, she had been attacked within the hour. After Meredith’s had appeared, she hadn’t been attacked until the next day. Maybe things were getting more spaced out. Maybe Bonnie wasn’t going to be in danger until tomorrow or the next day. Or next week. And Damon’s name had appeared before Bonnie’s did.

Bonnie’s skin tingled at the thought of Damon’s name in lake weeds. Damon was dead. She had
seen
him die—and in fact he’d died for her (although everyone else, in their compassion for Elena, seemed to have forgotten that). But the appearance of his name must mean
something
. And she was determined to figure out just what.

She listened. She could hear the sounds of Meredith moving around in the room next door with a steady thumping that suggested she was practicing with her stave, and from down below came the faint voices of Matt, Alaric, and Mrs. Flowers talking in the study.

Bonnie could wait. She poured herself a cup of tea, crunched on another cookie, and wiggled her toes pleasurably under the soft pink sheets. She sort of liked being a supernatural invalid.

An hour later, she had finished her cup of tea and all the cookies, and the house was quieter. It was time.

She climbed out of bed, her too-long polka-dotted pajama pants flapping around her ankles, and opened her overnight bag. While Meredith had waited downstairs at her house, she had pried up the loose board by her bed and taken out
Traversing the Boundaries Between the Quick and the Dead
, a book of matches, a silver knife, and the four candles she needed for the ritual. Now she took them out of her bag and rolled back the rug by the bed so she could crouch on the floor.