The bright morning sun shone on the long, winding drive that led to the garage behind the boardinghouse. Puffs of white cloud scudded across the light blue sky. It was such a peaceful scene that it was almost impossible to believe that anything bad had ever happened in this place. The last time I was here, thought Stefan, putting on his sunglasses, it was a wasteland.
When the kitsune had held sway in Fel 's Church, it had been a war zone. Children against parents, teenage girls mutilating themselves, the town half-destroyed. Blood on the streets, pain and suffering everywhere.
Behind him, the front door opened. Stefan turned quickly to see Mrs. Flowers coming out of the house. The old woman wore a long black dress, and her eyes were shielded by a straw hat covered with artificial flowers. She looked tired and worn, but her smile was as gentle as always.
"Stefan," she said. "The world is here this morning, the way it should be." Mrs. Flowers stepped closer and gazed up into his face, her sharp blue eyes warm with sympathy. She looked as if she were about to ask him something, but at the last minute seemed to change her mind and instead said, "Meredith cal ed, and Matt, too. It seems that, against al the odds, everyone has survived unscathed." She hesitated, and then squeezed his arm. "Almost everyone."
Something twisted painful y in Stefan's chest. He didn't want to talk about Damon. He couldn't, not yet. Instead, he bowed his head. "We owe you a great debt, Mrs. Flowers,"
he said, choosing his words with care. "We never could have defeated the kitsune without you - you were the one who held them at bay and defended the town for so long. None of us wil ever forget that."
Mrs. Flowers's smile deepened, an unexpected dimple flickering in one cheek. "Thank you, Stefan," she said with equal formality. "There is no one I would have rather fought alongside than you and the others." She sighed and patted his shoulder. "Although I must be getting old at last; I feel the need to spend most of today dozing in a chair in the garden. Fighting evil takes more out of me than it used to."
Stefan offered his arm to assist her down the porch steps, and she smiled at him once more. "Tel Elena that I'l make those tea biscuits she likes whenever she's ready to leave her family and come visit," she said, then turned toward her rose garden.
Elena and her family. Stefan imagined his love, her silky blond hair tumbling about her shoulders, little Margaret in her lap. Elena had another shot at a real human life now, which was worth everything.
It had been Stefan's fault that Elena lost her first life - he knew that with a hard certainty that gnawed at his insides. He had brought Katherine to Fel 's Church, and Katherine had destroyed Elena. This time he would make sure Elena was protected.
With one last glance at Mrs. Flowers in her garden, he squared his shoulders and walked into the woods. Birds sang at the sun-dappled edges of the forest, but Stefan was headed much deeper in, where ancient oaks grew and the underbrush was thick. Where no one would see him, where he could hunt.
Stopping in a smal clearing several miles in, Stefan took off his sunglasses and listened. From nearby came the soft crackle of something moving beneath a bush. He concentrated, reaching out with his mind. It was a rabbit, its heart beating rapidly, looking for its own morning meal. Stefan focused his mind on it. Come to me, he thought, gently and persuasively. He sensed the rabbit stiffen for a moment; then it hopped slowly out from under a bush, its eyes glassy.
It came toward him docilely and, with an extra mental nudge from Stefan, stopped at his feet. Stefan scooped it up and turned it over to reach the tender throat, where its pulse fluttered. With a silent apology to the animal, Stefan gave himself over to his hunger, al owing his fangs to click into place. He tore into the rabbit's throat, drinking the blood slowly, trying not to wince at the taste. While the kitsune had threatened Fel 's Church, Elena, Bonnie, Meredith, and Matt had insisted he feed on them, knowing human blood would keep him as strong as possible for the fight. Their blood had been almost otherworldly: Meredith's fiery and strong; Matt's pure and wholesome; Bonnie's sweet as dessert; Elena's heady and invigorating. Despite the foul taste of the rabbit in his mouth, his canines prickled with remembered hunger. But now he wouldn't drink human blood, he told himself firmly. He couldn't keep crossing that line, even if they were wil ing. Not unless his friends' safety was at risk. The change from human to animal blood would be painful; he remembered that from when he had first stopped drinking human blood - aching teeth, nausea, irritability, the feeling that he was starving even when his stomach was ful - but it was the only option.
When the rabbit's heartbeat stopped altogether, Stefan gently disengaged. He held the limp body in his hands for a moment, then set it on the ground and covered it with leaves. Thank you, little one, he thought. He was stil hungry, but he had already taken one life this morning. Damon would have laughed. Stefan could almost hear him. Noble Stefan, he would scoff, his black eyes narrowing in half-affectionate disdain. You're missing all the best parts of being a vampire while you wrestle with your conscience, you fool.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a crow cawed overhead. For a moment, Stefan ful y expected the bird to plummet to earth and transform into his brother. When it didn't, Stefan gave a short half laugh at his own stupidity and was surprised when it sounded almost like a sob. Damon was never coming back. His brother was gone. They'd had centuries of bitterness between them and had only just started to repair their relationship, joining together to fight the evil that always seemed drawn to Fel 's Church and to shield Elena from it. But Damon was dead, and now Stefan was the only one left to protect Elena and their friends.
A latent worm of fear squirmed in his chest. There was so much that could go wrong. Humans were so vulnerable, and now that Elena had no special powers, she was as vulnerable as any of them.
The thought sent him reeling, and immediately he took off, running straight toward Elena's house on the other side of the woods. Elena was his responsibility now. And he would never let anything hurt her again.
The upstairs landing was almost the same as Elena remembered it: shining dark wood with an Oriental carpet runner, a few little tables with knickknacks and photographs, a couch near the big picture window overlooking the front drive.
But halfway to the stairs, Elena paused, glimpsing something new. Among the silver-framed photos on one of the smal tables was a picture of herself and Meredith and Bonnie, faces close together, grinning widely in caps and gowns and proudly brandishing diplomas. Elena picked it up, holding it close. She had graduated from high school. It felt odd to see this other Elena, as she couldn't help thinking of her, her blond hair pul ed back in an elegant French twist, creamy skin flushed with excitement, smiling with her best friends, and not remember a thing about it. And she looked so carefree, this Elena, so ful of joy and hope and expectations for the future. This Elena knew nothing of the horror of the Dark Dimension or the havoc the kitsune had caused. This Elena was happy. Glancing quickly among the photos, Elena located a few more she hadn't seen before. Apparently this other Elena had been queen of the Snow Bal , though Elena remembered Caroline had won that crown after Elena's death. In this picture, however, Queen Elena was resplendent in pale violet silk, surrounded by her court: Bonnie fluffy and adorable in shiny blue taffeta; Meredith sophisticated in black; auburn-haired Caroline looking aggrieved in a tight silver dress that left very little to the imagination; and Sue Carson, pretty in pale pink, smiling straight into the camera, very much alive. Tears stung Elena's eyes once more. They had saved her. Elena and Meredith and Bonnie and Matt and Stefan had saved Sue Carson.
Then Elena's gaze landed on another photograph, this one of Aunt Judith in a long, lacy wedding dress, Robert standing proudly beside her in a morning suit. With them was the other Elena, clearly the maid of honor, in a dress the color of green leaves, holding a bouquet of pink roses. Beside her stood Margaret, shining blond head ducked shyly, grasping Elena's dress with one hand. She was wearing a ful -skirted white flower girl's dress tied with a wide green sash, and she clutched a basket of roses in her other hand.
Elena's hands shook a little as she put this picture down. It looked as if a good time had been had by al . What a pity she hadn't actual y been there.
Downstairs, a glass clinked against the table, and she heard Aunt Judith laugh. Putting aside al the strangeness of this new past she'd have to learn, Elena hurried down the stairs, ready to greet her future.
In the dining room, Aunt Judith poured orange juice from a blue jug while Robert spooned batter onto the waffle iron. Margaret was kneeling behind her chair, narrating an intense conversation between her stuffed rabbit and a toy tiger.
A great surge of joy fil ed Elena's chest, and she grabbed Aunt Judith in a tight hug and spun her around. Orange juice spil ed across the floor in a wide arc.
"Elena!" scolded Aunt Judith, half laughing. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing! I just I love you, Aunt Judith," Elena said, hugging her tighter. "I real y do."
"Oh," said Aunt Judith, her eyes soft. "Oh, Elena, I love you, too."
"And what a beautiful day," Elena said, pirouetting away.
"A wonderful day to be alive." She dropped a kiss on Margaret's blond head. Aunt Judith reached for the paper towels.
Robert cleared his throat. "Are we to take it that you've forgiven us for grounding you last weekend?"
Oh. Elena tried to figure out how to respond, but after she'd been living on her own for months, the whole concept of being grounded by Aunt Judith and Robert seemed ridiculous. Stil , she widened her eyes and put on an appropriately contrite expression. "I'm truly sorry, Aunt Judith and Robert. It won't happen again." Whatever it is. Robert's shoulders relaxed. "We'l say no more about it, then," he said with obvious relief. He slid a hot waffle onto her plate and handed her the syrup. "Do you have anything fun planned for today?"