They moved swiftly and silently through the museum. A vampire came toward Meredith and she sidestepped his blow, sweeping his feet out from under him with one kick. Before the vampire could hit the floor, Stefan had torn off his head.
It's like a dance, Meredith thought, half-dazed. Something about the smooth interplay between her and Stefan, the sweep of their weapons and the strikes of their limbs, worked like the best dancing couples. They didn't need to speak; she could sense his movements almost before they happened.
Three vampires raced across the hall in front of them, Darlene in hot pursuit as she pulled the trigger of her flamethrower. A jet of fire caught one of the vampires, and he gave a high, terrified scream as he burned.
Alex was halfway up the stairs, three vampires surrounding him, but he had a fierce grin on his face and an actual broadsword in his hand-even in the midst of battle, Meredith couldn't help being amazed by that-moving so quickly it was barely more than a blur of metal.
They passed a roped-off living room, where Tristan was tearing the throat out of a vampire, the fur of his muzzle matted with gore.
There was no sign of a vampire with yellow eyes.
At last, Meredith and Stefan came to a deserted dining room laid as if for a holiday feast. Silver and crystal sparkled, and a fake suckling pig, shiny with varnish, took pride of place on the table. This was the first room Meredith had come to where the walls were not spattered with blood, the hand-blocked wallpaper cleanly traced with Victorian vines and blossoms.
Stefan tensed, hearing a sound Meredith couldn't make out, and whipped around toward the door-but it was only Jack and Trinity, blood-spattered though seemingly uninjured. Zander and Shay, wolf-formed, padded in through a door at the other end of the room. They were bloody, too, and Zander was limping, but their tails were high with triumph.
"We've been through the rooms upstairs, but we didn't find any sign of Solomon," Jack said, scrubbing a hand over his tired face and smearing more blood across his cheek. "I think we have to face that he's disappeared again. Even though Andres thought he was here."
Trinity leaned back against the wall, her usually cheerful face glum. "Maybe it was a trick all along," she said. "He likes to tease us. Finding him like this seemed too easy."
Meredith's shoulders slumped. Had they really fought so hard, for nothing? Stefan was gripping the machete so tightly his knuckles were white with strain.
"No," he said, almost choking on his rage. "It's not acceptable. We have to end this."
"Maybe we do," a light, cultivated voice interrupted from the doorway. Meredith tried to turn, tried to raise her stave, but she suddenly found that she couldn't move.
Slow, deliberate footsteps crossed the floor behind her. The room had become very cold.
There was a rush of Power, and Zander slammed back against the wall, his paws scrabbling helplessly, long claws scraping against the floor. The Power flung Shay through the window, the glass shattering as her thick-furred body slammed through it.
As frost began to form in Meredith's hair, Solomon finally stepped into her field of vision. He was good-looking in a harsh way, tall, all lean muscles and graceful, purposeful movement, dressed simply in jeans and a shirt. Tawny hair fell to the nape of his neck, and his features were sharply cut. He could have passed for a human on the street.
He glanced at Meredith as he passed, and she slammed backward as if she'd been shoved, her head banging hard against the wall, her teeth jarring with the impact.
"Stefan." Solomon stopped to peer into the younger vampire's face. He sounded amused. "I thought you'd find me." He raised a hand and touched Stefan's face gently. Blood began to run from Stefan's nose, coating his chin and running down his neck. Solomon watched him for a few moments, then made a soft, discontented sound and turned away.
A moment later, he was gazing into Meredith's face. His eyes were almost golden, she saw, and bright with malice. "Meredith," Solomon said, as if he knew her. "I've been looking forward to meeting you." He watched her carefully, and she felt herself growing colder and colder. Something tightened inside her head with a sharp snap, and a hot stream ran down her face-blood, she realized, like Stefan. "Oh, no," he said, sighing, and made a wry face. "A pity." He moved on to Trinity and Jack, across the room. The painful tightness in Meredith's head eased a little but didn't end.
Trinity looked as if she'd been caught about to speak, her mouth partially open. She was as still as a mannequin. Beside her, the window was silvered with frost. Meredith was freezing.
"Jack!" Solomon peered delightedly into the hunter's face. "You've been looking for me for a long time, haven't you?" Meredith wondered what the Old One was doing, why he was toying with them. She was reminded of making rounds at her wedding reception: greeting everyone, making small talk.
She couldn't see Solomon's face, but she figured he was doing to Jack whatever it was he'd done to her and Stefan, expected to see Jack's face running with blood. Instead she heard Solomon chuckle, a sudden, surprised sound. "Oh," he said. "No, you won't do at all."
Solomon moved on again, and Meredith could see that Jack wasn't bleeding after all. There was a thin coating of frost on him, though, and his eyes looked furious.
"Hello, Trinity," Solomon said, and there was a new note in his voice, almost ... thoughtful. His hand traced over Trinity's shoulder, long fingers running across her collarbone. "You're strong. And tall, I like tall. Maybe you're worth my time." The cold in the room intensified sharply, and Meredith felt as if her skin, unable to shiver, might crack like the glass of Elena's windows.