Stefan’s voice was quietly savage. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, Damon? And now you’ve got it. You had to make her like us, like you. It wasn’t enough just to kill her.”
Damon didn’t glance back at him. He was looking at Elena intently through those hooded eyes, still kneeling there holding her chin. “That’s the third time you’ve said that, and I’m getting a little tired of it,” he commented softly. Disheveled, still slightly out of breath, he was yet self-composed, in control. “Elena, did I kill you?”
“Of course not,” Elena said, winding her fingers in those of his free hand. She was getting impatient. What were they talking about, anyway? Nobody had been killed.
“I never thought you were a liar,” Stefan said to Damon, the bitterness in his voice unchanged. “tust about everything else, but not that. I’ve never heard you try to cover up for yourself before.”
“In another minute,” said Damon, “I’m going to lose my temper.”
What more can you possibly do to me? Stefan returned. 7illing me would be a mercy.
“I ran out of mercy for you a century ago,” Damon said aloud. He let go, finally, of Elena’s chin. “What do you remember about today?” he asked her.
Elena spoke tiredly, like a child reciting a hated lesson. “Today was the Founders’ Day celebration.” She looked up at Damon, flexing her fingers in his. That was as far as she could get on her own, but it wasn’t enough. Nettled, she tried to remember something else.
“There was someone in the cafeteria … Caroline.” She offered the name to him, pleased. “She was going to read my diary in
front of everyone, and that was bad because …” Elena fumbled with the memory and lost it. “I don’t remember why. But we tricked her.” She smiled at him warmly, conspiratorially.
“Oh, ‘we’ did, did we?”
“Yes. You got it away from her. You did it for me.” The fingers of her free hand crept under his jacket, searching for the square- cornered harness of the little book. “Because you love me,” she said, finding it and scratching it lightly. “You do love me, don’t you?”
There was a faint sound from the center of the clearing. Elena looked and saw that Stefan had turned his face away.
“Elena. What happened next?” Damon’s voice called her back. “Next? Next Aunt tudith started arguing with me.” Elena
pondered this a moment and at last shrugged. “Over … something. I got angry. She’s not my mother. She can’t tell me what to do.”
Damon’s voice was dry. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem anymore. What next?”
Elena sighed heavily. “Next I went and got Matt’s car. Matt.” She said the name reflectively, flicking her tongue over her canine teeth. In her mind’s eye she saw a handsome face, blond hair, sturdy shoulders. “Matt.”
“And where did you go in Matt’s car?”
“To Wickery Bridge,” Stefan said, turning back toward them.
His eyes were desolate.
“No, to the boarding house,” Elena corrected, irritated. “To wait for … mmm. I forget. Anyway, I waited there. Then … then the storm started. Wind, rain, all that. I didn’t like it. I got in the car. But something came after me.”
