Matt had run....
Bonnie shook her head. All at once she couldn't stand this house any longer. It had somehow settled into her mind, making her accept all the impossible angles of the distorted walls. She had even grown accustomed to the awful smell and the red light. But now, with Caroline holding out a blood-soaked bandage and telling her that it was Matt who had bled all over it...
"I'm going home," Bonnie announced suddenly. "And Matt didn't do it, and - and I'm never coming back!" Accompanied by the sound of Caroline's giggling, she whirled, trying not to look at the nest Caroline had made under her corner desk. There were empty bottles and half-empty plates of food piled in there with the clothes. Anything could be under them - even a malach.
But as Bonnie moved, the room seemed to move with her, accelerating her spin, until she had gone twice around before she could put out a foot to stop herself.
"Wait, Bonnie - wait, Caroline," Meredith said, sounding almost frantic. Caroline was folding her body like a contortionist, getting back under the desk. "Caroline, what about Tyler Smallwood? Don't you care that he's the real father of your - your kids? How long were you dating him before he joined up with Klaus? Where is he now?"
"Forrr all I know he's dead. You and yourrr friends killed him." The snarl was back, but it wasn't vicious. It was more of a triumphant purr. "But I don't miss him, so I hope he stays dead," Caroline added, with a muffled giggle. "He wouldn't marrrry me."
Bonnie had to get away. She fumbled for the doorknob, found it, and was blinded. She had spent so long in ruby dimness that the hall light was like the midday sun on the desert.
"Turrn off the lamp!" Caroline snapped from under the desk. But as Meredith moved to do it Bonnie heard a surprisingly loud explosion and saw the red-swathed shade go dark by itself.
And one thing more.
The hallway light swept across Caroline's room like a beacon as the door swung shut. Caroline was already tearing at something with her teeth. Something with the texture of meat, but not cooked meat.
Bonnie jerked back to run and almost knocked over Mrs. Forbes.
The woman was still standing in the hall where she had been when they went into Caroline's room. She didn't even look as if she'd been listening at the door. She was just standing, staring at nothing.
"I have to show you out," she said in her soft, gray voice. She didn't lift her head to meet Bonnie's or Meredith's eyes. "You might get lost otherwise. I do."
It was a straight shot to the stairs and down and four steps to the front door. But as they walked, Meredith didn't say anything, and Bonnie couldn't.
Once outside, Meredith turned to look at Bonnie.
"Well? Is she more possessed by the malach or the werewolf part of her? Or could you tell anything from her aura?"
Bonnie heard herself laugh, a sound that was like crying.
"Meredith, her aura isn't human - and I don't know what to make of it. And her mother doesn't seem to have an aura at all. They're just - that house is just - "
"Never mind, Bonnie. You don't have to go there ever again."
"It's like..." But Bonnie didn't know how to explain the fun-house look of the walls or the way the stairs went down instead of up.
"I think," she said finally, "that you'd better do some more research. On things like - like possession of the American kind."
"You mean like possession by demons?" Meredith shot her a sharp look.
"Yes. I guess so. Only I don't know where to start listing what's wrong with her."
"I have a few ideas of my own," Meredith said quietly. "Like - did you notice that she never showed us her hands? That was very strange, I thought."
"I know why," Bonnie whispered, trying not to let the sobbing laughter out. "It's because - she doesn't have fingernails anymore."
"What did you say?"
"She put her hands around my wrists. I could feel them."
"Bonnie, you're not making any sense."
Bonnie made herself speak. "Caroline has claws now, Meredith. Real claws. Like a wolf."
"Or maybe," Meredith said in a whisper, "like a fox."
Chapter 6
Elena was using all her considerable talents at negotiation to calm Matt down, encouraging him to order a second and third Belgian waffle; smiling at him across the table. But it wasn't much good. Matt was moving as if he were driven to rush, while at the same time he couldn't take his eyes off her.
He's still imagining Damon swooping down and terrorizing some young girl, Elena thought helplessly.
Damon wasn't there when they stepped out of the coffee shop. Elena saw the frown between Matt's eyebrows begin and had a brainstorm.
"Why don't we take the Jag to a used-car dealership? If we're going to give up the Jaguar, I want your advice on what we get in return."
"Yeah, my advice on beat-up, falling-apart heaps has got to be the best," Matt said, with a wry smile that said he knew Elena was managing him, but he didn't mind.
The single car dealership in the town didn't look very promising. But even it was not as depressed-looking as the owner of the lot. Elena and Matt found him asleep inside a small office building with dirty windows. Matt tapped gently on the smudged window and eventually the man started, jerked up in his chair, and angrily waved them away.
But Matt tapped again on the window when the man began to put his head down once more, and this time the man sat up very slowly, gave them a look of bitter despair, and came to the door.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"A trade-in," Matt said loudly before Elena could say it softly.