“You see,” said Meredith archly, “all Mr. Tanner’s work has paid off. Bonnie now knows the Spanish Inquisition is not a rock group.”
Elena was laughing with sheer ebullience as they went up the stairs.
Mrs. Bennett looked pale and tired, but invited them in.
“Vickie’s been resting; the doctor said to keep her in bed,” she explained, with a smile that trembled slightly. Elena, Bonnie, and Meredith crowded into the narrow hallway.
Mrs. Bennett tapped lightly at Vickie’s door. “Vickie, sweetheart, some girls from school to see you. Don’t keep her long,” she added to Elena, opening the door.
“We won’t,” Elena promised. She stepped into a pretty blue-and-white bedroom, the others right behind her. Vickie was lying in bed propped up on pillows, with a powder-blue comforter drawn up to her chin. Her face was paper-white against it, and her heavy-lidded eyes stared straight ahead.
“That’s how she looked last night,” Bonnie whispered.
Elena moved to the side of the bed. “Vickie,” she said softly. Vickie went on staring, but Elena thought her breathing changed slightly. “Vickie, can you hear me? It’s Elena Gilbert.” She glanced uncertainly at Bonnie and Meredith.
“Looks like they gave her tranquilizers,” said Meredith.
But Mrs. Bennett hadn’t said they’d given her any drugs. Frowning, Elena turned back to the unresponsive girl.
“Vickie, it’s me, Elena. I just wanted to talk to you about last night. I want you to know that I believe you about what happened.” Elena ignored the sharp glance Meredith gave her and continued. “And I wanted to ask you—”
“No!” It was a shriek, raw and piercing, torn from Vickie’s throat. The body that had been as still as a wax figure exploded into violent action. Vickie’s light-brown hair whipped across her cheeks as she tossed her head back and forth and her hands flailed at the empty air. “No! No!” she screamed.
“Do something!” Bonnie gasped. “Mrs. Bennett! Mrs. Bennett!”
Elena and Meredith were trying to hold Vickie on the bed, and she was fighting them. The shrieking went on and on. Then suddenly Vickie’s mother was beside them, helping to hold her, pushing the others away.
“What did you do to her?” she cried.
Vickie clutched at her mother, calming down, but then the heavy-lidded eyes glimpsed Elena over Mrs. Bennett’s shoulder.
“You’re part of it! You’re evil!” she screamed hysterically at Elena. “Keep away from me!”
Elena was dumbfounded. “Vickie! I only came to ask—”
“I think you’d better leave now. Leave us alone,” said Mrs. Bennett, clasping her daughter protectively. “Can’t you see what you’re doing to her?”
In stunned silence, Elena left the room. Bonnie and Meredith followed.
“It must be drugs,” said Bonnie once they were out of the house. “She just went completely nonlinear.”
“Did you notice her hands?” Meredith said to Elena. “When we were trying to restrain her, I got hold of one of her hands. And it was cold as ice.”
Elena shook her head in bewilderment. None of it made sense, but she wouldn’t let it spoil her day. She wouldn’t. Desperately, she searched her mind for something that would offset the experience, that would allow her to hold on to her happiness.
“I know,” she said. “The boarding house.”
“What?”
“I told Stefan to call me today, but why don’t we walk over to the boarding house instead? It’s not far from here.”
“Only a twenty-minute walk,” said Bonnie. She brightened. “At least we can finally see that room of his.”
“Actually,” said Elena, “I was thinking you two could wait downstairs. Well, I’ll only get to see him for a few minutes,” she added, defensively, as they looked at her. It was odd, perhaps, but she didn’t want to share Stefan with her friends just yet. He was so new to her that he felt almost like a secret.
Their knock on the shining oak door was answered by Mrs. Flowers. She was a wrinkled little gnome of a woman with surprisingly bright black eyes.
“You must be Elena,” she said. “I saw you and Stefan go out last night, and he told me your name when he came back.”
“You saw us?” said Elena, startled. “I didn’t see you.”
“No, no you didn’t,” said Mrs. Flowers, and chuckled. “What a pretty girl you are, my dear,” she added. “A very pretty girl.” She patted Elena’s cheek.
“Uh, thank you,” said Elena uneasily. She didn’t like the way those birdlike eyes were fixed on her. She looked past Mrs. Flowers to the stairs. “Is Stefan home?”
“He must be, unless he’s flown off the roof!” said Mrs. Flowers, and chuckled again. Elena laughed politely.
“We’ll stay down here with Mrs. Flowers,” said Meredith to Elena, while Bonnie rolled her eyes in martyrdom. Hiding a grin, Elena nodded and mounted the stairs.
Such a strange old house, she thought again as she located the second stairway in the bedroom. The voices below were very faint from here, and as she went up the steps they faded entirely. She was wrapped in silence, and as she reached the dimly lit door at the top, she had the feeling she had entered some other world. Her knocking sounded very timid. “Stefan?” She could hear nothing from inside, but suddenly the door swung open. Everyone must look pale and tired today, thought Elena, and then she was in his arms.
Those arms tightened about her convulsively. “Elena. Oh, Elena…”
Then he drew back. It was just the way it had been last night; Elena could feel the chasm opening between them. She saw the cold, correct look gather in his eyes.
“No,” she said, hardly aware that she spoke aloud. “I won’t let you.” And she pulled his mouth down to hers.
For a moment there was no response, and then he shuddered, and the kiss became searing. His fingers tangled in her hair, and the universe shrank around Elena. Nothing else existed but Stefan, and the feel of his arms around her, and the fire of his lips on hers.
A few minutes or a few centuries later they separated, both shaking. But their gaze remained connected, and Elena saw that Stefan’s eyes were too dilated for even this dim light; there was only a thin band of green around the dark pupils. He looked dazed, and his mouth — that mouth! — was swollen.
“I think,” he said, and she could hear the control in his voice, “that we had better be careful when we do that.”
Elena nodded, dazed herself. Not in public, she was thinking. And not when Bonnie and Meredith were waiting downstairs. And not when they were absolutely alone, unless…
“But you can just hold me,” she said.
How odd, that after that passion she could feel so safe, so peaceful, in his arms. “I love you,” she whispered into the rough wool of his sweater.
She felt a quiver go through him. “Elena,” he said again, and it was a sound almost of despair.
She raised her head. “What’s wrong with that? What could possibly be wrong with that, Stefan? Don’t you love me?”
“I…” He looked at her, helplessly — and they heard Mrs. Flowers’s voice calling faintly from the bottom of the stairs.
“Boy! Boy! Stefan!” It sounded as if she were pounding on the banister with her shoe.
Stefan sighed. “I’d better go see what she wants.” He slipped away from her, his face unreadable.
Left alone, Elena folded her arms across her chest and shivered. It was so cold here. He ought to have a fire, she thought, eyes moving idly around the room to rest finally on the mahogany dresser she’d examined last night.
The coffer.
She glanced at the closed door. If he came back in and caught her… She really shouldn’t — but she was already moving toward the dresser.