Phantom, p.20
Phantom, page 20
Meredith was about to speak when Stefan appeared in the doorway, pale and wild-eyed. Elena lay unconscious in his arms. Meredith dropped her coffee cup. “Stefan!” she cried, staring in horror. “What happened?”
“The phantom’s trapped her,” Stefan said, his voice catching. “I don’t know how.”
Meredith felt like she was falling. “Oh no, oh no,” she heard herself say in a tiny, shocked voice. “Not Elena, too.”
Matt stood up, glowering. “Why didn’t you stop it?” he asked accusingly.
“We don’t have time for this,” Stefan said coldly, and strode past them to the stairs, clutching Elena protectively. In silent accord, Matt, Meredith, and Alaric followed him up to the room where Bonnie lay sleeping.
Mrs. Flowers was knitting by her bedside, and her mouth opened into an O of dismay when she saw who Stefan carried. Stefan gently placed Elena on the other side of the double bed by Bonnie’s pale and tiny form.
“I’m sorry,” Matt said slowly. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. But . . . what happened?”
Stefan just shrugged, looking stricken.
Meredith’s heart squeezed in her chest at the sight of her two best friends laid out like rag dolls. They were so still. Even in sleep, Elena had always been more mobile, more expressive than this. Over the course of a thousand sleepovers, ever since they were little, Meredith had seen sleeping Elena smile, roll herself more tightly in the blankets, snuggle her face into the pillows. Now the pink-and-gold-and-cream-colored warmth of Elena seemed faded and cold.
And Bonnie, Bonnie who was so vibrant and quick-moving, she’d hardly ever kept still for more than a moment or two in her whole life. Now she was motionless, frozen, almost colorless except for the dark dots of her freckles against her pale cheeks and the bright expanse of red hair on her pillow. If it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of their chests, both girls could have been mannequins.
“I don’t know,” Stefan said again, the words sounding more panicked this time, and looked up to meet Meredith’s eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
Meredith cleared her throat. “We called the hospital to check on Caleb while you were gone,” she said carefully, knowing what effect her words would have. “He’s been released.”
Stefan’s eyes flashed murderously. “I think,” he said, his voice like a knife, “that we should pay Caleb a visit.”
Elena was suspended in darkness. She wasn’t alarmed, though. It was like floating slowly under warm water, gently bobbing in the current, and a part of her wondered distantly and without fear whether it was possible that she had never come up out of the waterfall basin at Hot Springs. Had she been drifting and dreaming all this time?
Then suddenly she was speeding, bursting upward, and she opened her eyes on dazzling daylight and gulped a long, shaky breath.
Soulful, worried dark brown eyes gazed down into hers from a pale face hovering above her.
“Bonnie?” Elena gasped.
“Elena! Thank God,” Bonnie cried, grabbing her by the arms in a viselike grip. “I’ve been here all by myself for days and days, or what feels like days and days anyway, because the light never changes, so I can’t tell by the sun. And there’s nothing to do here. I can’t figure out how to get out, and there’s nothing to eat, although I’m weirdly not hungry, so I guess it doesn’t matter. I tried to sleep to pass the time, but I wasn’t getting tired, either. And suddenly you were here, and I was so happy to see you, but you wouldn’t wake up, and I was getting really worried. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Elena said groggily. “The last thing I remember is being on a bench. I think I got caught by some kind of mystical fog.”
“Me too!” Bonnie exclaimed. “Not the bench part, but the fog part. I was in my room at the boardinghouse, and this weird fog trapped me.” She shivered theatrically. “I couldn’t move at all. And I was so cold.” Suddenly her eyes widened with guilt. “I was doing a spell when it happened, and something came up behind me and said stuff. Nasty things.”
Elena shuddered. “I heard a voice, too.”
“Do you think I . . . set something loose? When I was doing the spell? I’ve been worrying that maybe I might have done so accidentally.” Bonnie’s face was white.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Elena reassured her. “We think it’s the phantom—the thing that’s been causing the accidents—that it stole your spirit so it could use your power for itself. And now it’s taken me, I guess.”
She quickly told Bonnie about the phantom, then pushed up on her elbows and really looked around for the first time. “I can’t believe we’re here again.”
“Where?” asked Bonnie anxiously. “Where are we?”
It was midday and a sunlit blue sky stretched brightly overhead. Elena was pretty sure it was always midday here: It certainly had been the last time she’d been here. They were in a wide, long field that seemed to go on forever. As far as Elena could see, there were tall bushes growing—rosebushes with perfect velvety black blooms.
Midnight roses. Richly magical roses grown for holding spells only the kitsune could coat onto them. A kitsune had sent Stefan one of these roses once, with a spell to make him human, but Damon had accidentally intercepted it, much to both brothers’ dismay.
“We’re in the kitsunes’ magic rose field, the one that the Gatehouse of the Seven Treasures opens into,” she told Bonnie.
“Oh,” Bonnie said. She thought for a moment and then asked helplessly, “What are we doing here? Is the phantom a kitsune?”
“I don’t think so,” Elena answered. “Maybe it’s just a convenient place to stash us.”
Elena took a deep breath. Bonnie was a good person to be with in a crisis. Not good in the way that Meredith was—Meredith’s way was the planning-and-getting-things-done way—but good in that Bonnie looked up at Elena trustingly with big, innocent eyes and asked questions, confident that Elena would know the answers. And Elena would immediately feel competent and protective, as if she could deal with whatever situation they were embroiled in. Like right now. With Bonnie depending on her, Elena’s mind was working more clearly than it had for days. Any moment now, she’d come up with a plan to get them out of here. Any moment now, she was sure.
Bonnie’s cold, small fingers worked their way into Elena’s hand. “Elena, are we dead?” she asked in a tiny, quavering voice.
Were they dead? Elena wondered. She didn’t think so. Bonnie had been alive after the phantom took her, but unwakeable. It was more likely their spirits had traveled here on the astral plane and their bodies were back in Fell’s Church.
“Elena?” Bonnie repeated anxiously. “Do you think we’re dead?”
Elena opened her mouth to respond when a crackling, stomping noise interrupted her. The rosebushes nearby began to thrash wildly, and there was a great rushing sound that seemed to come from every direction at once. The snapping of branches was deafening, as if something huge was shoving its way through the bracken. All around them, thorny rosebush branches whipped back and forth, although there was no wind. She yelped as one of the waving branches smacked her across the arm, gashing her skin open.
Bonnie let out a wail, and Elena’s heart beat double time in her chest. She whirled around, pushing Bonnie behind her. She balled her hands into fists and crouched, trying to remember what Meredith had taught her about fighting an attacker. But as she looked around, all she could see for miles were roses. Black, perfect roses.
Bonnie gave a small whimper and pressed closer to Elena’s back.
Suddenly Elena felt a sharp, aching tug rip through her, as if something were being pulled slowly but firmly out of her torso. She gasped and stumbled, clutching her hands to her stomach. This is it, she thought numbly, feeling as though every bone in her body were being ground to a pulp. I am going to die.
Chapter 28
No one answered the door at the Smallwoods’ house. The driveway was empty and the house looked deserted, the shades pulled down.
“Maybe Caleb’s not here,” Matt said nervously. “Could he have gone somewhere else when he got out of the hospital?”
“I can smell him. I can hear him breathing,” Stefan growled. “He’s in there, all right. He’s hiding out.”
Matt had never seen Stefan look so angry. His usually calm green eyes were bright with rage, and his fangs seemed to be involuntarily extended, little sharp points showing every time he opened his mouth. Stefan caught Matt looking at them and frowned, running his tongue self-consciously across his canines.
Matt glanced at Alaric, who he’d been thinking of as the only other normal person left in their group, but Alaric was watching Stefan with what was clearly fascination rather than alarm. Not entirely normal, then, either, Matt thought.
“We can get in,” Meredith said calmly. She looked to Alaric. “Let me know if someone’s coming.” He nodded and positioned himself to block the view of anyone walking past on the sidewalk. With cool efficiency, Meredith wedged one end of her fighting stave in the crack of the front door and started to pry it open.
The door was made of heavy oak, and clearly had two locks and a chain engaged inside, and it withstood Meredith’s leverage against it. Meredith swore, then muttered, “Come on, come on,” redoubling her efforts. The locks and chains gave suddenly against her strength, and the door flew open, banging into the wall behind it.
“So much for a quiet entrance,” Stefan said. He shifted restlessly on the doorstep as they filed past him.
“You’re invited in,” Meredith said, but Stefan shook his head.
“I can’t,” he said. “It only works if you live here.”
Meredith’s lips tightened, and she turned and ran up the stairs. There was a brief shout of surprise and some muffled thumping. Alaric glanced at Matt nervously, and then up the stairs.
“Should we help her?” he said.
Before Matt could answer—and he was pretty sure Meredith wasn’t the one who needed help—she returned, shoving Caleb down the stairs before her, twisting one of his arms tightly behind his back.
“Invite him in,” she ordered as Caleb stumbled to the bottom of the stairs. Caleb shook his head, and she yanked his arm up higher so that he yelped in pain.
“I won’t,” he said stubbornly. “You can’t come in.” Meredith pushed him toward Stefan, stopping him just at the threshold of the front door.
“Look at me,” Stefan said softly, and Caleb’s eyes flew to his. Stefan’s pupils widened, swallowing his green irises in black, and Caleb shook his head frantically, but seemed unable to break his gaze.
“Let. Me. In,” Stefan ordered.
“Come in, then,” said Caleb sullenly. Meredith released him and his eyes cleared. He turned and dashed up the stairs.
Stefan burst through the door like he’d been shot through a gun and then stalked up the stairs. His smooth, stealthy movements reminded Matt of a predator’s—of a lion or a shark. Matt shivered. Sometimes he forgot how truly dangerous Stefan was.
“I’d better go with him,” Meredith said. “We don’t want Stefan doing anything he’d regret.” She paused. “Not before we find out what we need to know, anyway. Alaric, you’re the one who knows the most about magic, so you come with me. Matt, keep an eye out and warn us if the Smallwoods pull into the drive.” She and Alaric followed Stefan up the stairs.
Matt waited for the screaming to start, but it remained ominously quiet upstairs. Keeping one eye on the driveway through the front windows, Matt prowled through the living room. He and Tyler had been friends once upon a time, or at least had hung out, because they were both first-string on the football team. They’d known each other since middle school.
Tyler drank too much, partied too hard, was gross and sexist toward girls, but there had been something about him that Matt had sometimes enjoyed. It was the way he’d thrown himself into things, whether it was the no-holds-barred tackle of an opposing team’s quarterback or throwing the absolutely craziest party anyone had ever seen. Or the time when they’d been in seventh grade and he’d gotten obsessed with winning at Street Fighter on PlayStation 2. Every day he’d had Matt and the rest of the guys over, all of them spending hours sitting on the floor of Tyler’s bedroom, eating chips and talking trash and pounding the buttons of the controller until Tyler had figured out how to win every fight.
Matt heaved a sigh and peered out the front window again.
There was a brief muffled thump from upstairs, and Matt froze. Silence.
As he turned back to pace across the living room again, Matt noticed a particular photo among the neat row of frames on top of the piano. He crossed over and picked it up.
It must have been the football banquet, junior year. In the picture, Matt’s arm was around Elena, who he’d been dating then, and she was smiling up at him. Next to them stood Tyler, hand in hand with a girl whose name Matt couldn’t remember. Alison, maybe, or Alicia. She’d been older than them, a senior, and had graduated that year and left town. They were all dressed up, he and Tyler in jackets and ties, the girls in party dresses. Elena had worn a white, deceptively simple short dress, and looked so lovely that she’d taken Matt’s breath away.
Things had been so easy then. The quarterback and the prettiest girl in school. They’d been the perfect couple.
Then Stefan came to town, a cold, mechanical voice whispered to him, and destroyed everything.
Stefan, who had pretended to be Matt’s friend. Stefan, who had pretended to be a human being.
Stefan, who had pursued Matt’s girlfriend, the only girl Matt had ever really been in love with. Probably the only girl he would ever feel that way about. Sure, they’d broken up just before Elena met Stefan, but Matt might have gotten her back, if not for him.
Matt’s mouth twisted, and he threw the photo to the floor. The glass didn’t break, and the photo just lay there, Matt and Elena and Tyler and the girl whose name he didn’t remember smiling innocently up at the ceiling, unaware of what was heading toward them, of the chaos that would erupt less than a year later. Because of Stefan.
Stefan. Matt’s face was hot with anger. There was a buzzing in his head. Stefan the traitor. Stefan the monster. Stefan who had stolen Matt’s girl.
Matt stepped deliberately onto the picture and ground it beneath his heel. The wooden frame snapped. The feel of the glass shattering under his foot was oddly satisfying.
Without looking back, Matt stomped across the living room toward the stairs. It was time for him to deal with the monster who had ruined his life.
“Confess!” Stefan growled, doing his best to compel Caleb. But he was so weak and Caleb kept throwing up mental blocks. No doubt about it—this boy had access to Power.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caleb said, pressing his back against the wall as if he could tunnel into it. His eyes flicked nervously from Stefan’s angry face to Meredith, who was holding her staff balanced between her hands, ready to strike, and back to Stefan. “If you just leave me alone, I won’t go to the police. I don’t want any trouble.”
Caleb looked pale and shorter than Stefan remembered. There were bruises on his face, and one of his arms was in a cast and supported by a sling. Despite everything, Stefan felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at him.
He’s not human, he reminded himself.
Although . . . Caleb didn’t seem all that wolfish either, for a werewolf. Shouldn’t there be a little more of the animal in him? Stefan hadn’t known many werewolves, but Tyler had been all big white teeth and barely repressed aggression.
Next to him, Alaric blinked at the injured boy. Cocking his head to one side and examining him, he echoed Stefan’s thoughts, asking skeptically, “Are you sure he’s a werewolf?”
“A werewolf?” said Caleb. “Are you all crazy?”
But Stefan was watching Caleb carefully, and he saw a tiny flicker in Caleb’s eyes. “You’re lying,” Stefan said coldly, reaching out with his mind once more, finally finding a crack in Caleb’s defenses. “You don’t think we’re crazy. You’re just surprised that we know about you.”
Caleb sighed. His face was still white and strained, but a certain falseness went out of it as Stefan spoke. His shoulders slumped and he stepped away from the wall a little, head hanging wearily.
Meredith tensed, ready to spring, as he moved forward. He stopped and held up his hands. “I’m not going to try anything. And I’m not a werewolf. But, yeah, I know Tyler is, and I’m guessing that you know that, too.”
“You’ve got the werewolf gene,” Stefan told him. “You could easily be a werewolf, too.”
Caleb shrugged and looked Stefan straight in the eye. “I guess. But it didn’t happen to me; it happened to Tyler.”
“Happened to?” Meredith asked, her voice rising with outrage. “Do you know what Tyler did to become a werewolf?”
Caleb glanced at her warily. “What he did? Tyler didn’t do anything. The family curse caught up with him, that’s all.” His face was shadowed and anxious.
Stefan found his tone gentling despite himself. “Caleb, you have to kill someone to become a werewolf, even if you carry the gene. Unless you’re bitten by a werewolf yourself, there are certain rituals that have to be performed. Blood rituals. Tyler murdered an innocent girl.”
Caleb’s knees seemed to give out, and he slid to the floor with a muffled thump. He looked sick. “Tyler wouldn’t do that,” he said, but his voice was unsteady. “Tyler was like a brother to me after my parents died. He wouldn’t kill anyone. I don’t believe you.”
“He did,” Meredith confirmed. “Tyler murdered Sue Carson. We negotiated for her to come back to life, but it doesn’t change the fact that he did kill her.”
Her voice held the unmistakable ring of truth, and all the fight seemed to go out of Caleb. He sank lower and rested his forehead against his knees. “What do you want from me?”
He looked so thin and rumpled that, despite the urgency of their mission, Stefan was distracted. “Weren’t you taller than this?” he asked. “Bigger? More . . . put together? The last time I saw you, I mean.”
