Elena nodded doubtful y. "If that's what you real y want, Damon, and you real y think it's necessary," she said. "But I'm not happy about it."
Damon got to his feet and patted her shoulder. "Things are going to be different now," he said. He looked down at her, his face serious. "I'm not the same as I was, Elena."
Elena nodded again, more firmly this time. "I'l keep your secret, Damon," she promised.
Damon gave her a smal , tight smile, then took three steps toward her open window. In a moment he was gone, and a large black crow flew out into the night.
Chapter 23
The next morning, Elena felt light and joyful, as if she was hugging an enormous, wonderful secret to herself. Damon was stil alive. He had been in her room last night. Right?
She'd been through so much, she could hardly trust it. She climbed out of bed, noting that the clouds outside were stil pink and gold from the sunrise, so it must be very early. She careful y moved toward the window. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she went down on her hands and knees and scanned the floor careful y.
There. A tiny piece of dirt on the squeaky board, fal en from someone's shoe. And there, on the windowsil , the long scratches of a bird's claws. That was proof enough for Elena.
She stood up and gave a funny little hop of joy, clapping her hands together sharply once, an unstoppable grin spreading across her face. Damon was alive!
Then she took a deep breath and stood stil , wil ing her face into blankness. If she was real y going to keep this secret - and she supposed she would have to; she'd promised, after al - she was going to have to act like nothing had changed. And real y, things were pretty bad stil , she told herself. If she thought about the facts, she shouldn't be celebrating just yet.
Damon's return hadn't altered the fact that something dark was after Elena and her friends, or that Stefan was acting irrational y and violently. Her heart sank a little as she thought of Stefan, but stil a bubble of happiness went through her. Damon was alive!
And, what was more, he had an idea of what might be going on. It was exactly like Damon at his most infuriating to play this idea close to his chest and not let her know what he was thinking, but stil , his glimmer was more hope than anyone else had been able to offer yet. Perhaps there was light at the end of the tunnel after al .
A pebble pinged against Elena's window.
When she looked out, she saw Stefan, shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, watching her from the lawn. Elena waved to him to stay where he was, threw on jeans, a lacy white tank top, and shoes, and went downstairs to meet him. There was dew on the grass, and Elena's steps left footprints. The cool of dawn was already being replaced by dazzling hot sunshine: It was going to be another sticky Virginia summer day.
As she approached Stefan, Elena slowed down. She didn't quite know what to say to him. Since last night, every time she had thought of Stefan, she had involuntarily pictured Caleb's body flying through the air, the sickening crunch as he hit the marble monument. And she couldn't stop seeing Stefan's savage anger as he had attacked him, although Damon had been sure there must have been a reason. Damon. How would she ever keep Stefan from guessing the truth about his brother?
From the pained look on Stefan's face, it was clear he sensed her apprehension. He held out his hand. "I know you don't understand why I did what I did yesterday," he said,
"but there's something you have to see."
Elena stopped, but she didn't take his outstretched hand. His face fel a little further. "Tel me where we're going," she said.
"I need to show you something that I found," Stefan said patiently. "You'l understand when we get there. Please, Elena. I would never hurt you."
Elena stared at him. She knew without a doubt that it was true that Stefan would never hurt her.
"Okay," she said, making up her mind. "Wait here for a minute. I'l be right back."
She left Stefan on the lawn in the early morning sunshine as she retreated into the quiet dimness of the house. Everyone else was stil asleep: A quick glance at the clock in the kitchen told her it was barely six o'clock. She scribbled a note to Aunt Judith, saying she was going to grab breakfast with Stefan and would be back later. Reaching for her purse, she paused and made sure that a dried sprig of vervain was stil tucked inside it. Not that she thought Stefan would ever do anything to her... but it never hurt to be prepared.
When she came out of the house, Stefan ushered her into his car parked at the curb, opening the passenger-side door for her and hovering over her as she fastened her seat belt.
"How far away is it?" Elena asked.
"Not far," Stefan said simply. Watching him drive, Elena noticed the worry lines at the corners of his eyes, the unhappy droop of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders, and wished she could put her arms around him and comfort him, raise her hand and wipe those lines by his eyes away. But her memories of the rage on his face the day before held her back. She just couldn't make herself reach out to him.
They hadn't driven for long when Stefan turned onto a culde-sac of expensive houses. Elena leaned forward. They were pul ing up to a large white house fronted by a spacious pil ared porch. She knew that porch. After junior prom, she and Matt had sat on its steps and watched the sun rise, stil wearing their clothes from the dance. She had kicked off her satin sandals and laid her head against Matt's tuxedoed shoulder, listening dreamily to the music and voices coming from the afterprom party in the house behind them. It had been a good night from a different lifetime.
She stared at Stefan accusingly. "This was Tyler Smal wood's house, Stefan. I don't know what you're planning, but Caleb's not here. He's in the hospital."