Maybe I’m insane, he thought, shame always ready to leap for his throat. I helped her—after the first time when she had it all her own way—to do those things. If what they had done equated to madness, as it would seem to, then he had aided and abetted her . . .
Stop it, Stefan!
The voice was so sharp it was almost like having Damon mock him, urging him to renounce the role of martyr. Stefan flushed, full of new blood, full of anger—
And then in shock, glanced upward.
There was no mistaking that voice—or that indignation. Bonnie had been right, his inamorata was here, watching over him. He looked at Meredith to see if she had heard anything and saw that she hadn’t.
Who was he to flout one of Elena’s edicts?
Meredith’s dark eyes were on him. He said, apropos of nothing, “You rigged the drawing of the twigs. You made sure you’d be first.”
She didn’t admit it aloud, but he could still pick up thoughts from her mind.
Rigorously, he tried to shut his own mind to it.
“You wanted to see if it was bearable.”
This time she answered him. “If it would be bearable for anybody except Elena. I think Bonnie will be fine, if you control her mind, and keep it light and romantic.”
“Like the kiss?”
She flinched, making him flinch. Then she straightened herself and met his eyes again directly, sparing him nothing. “A little lighter than the kiss,” she suggested.
He wasn’t hurt by her reaction; his mind was elsewhere. “And Matt?”
“If I can stand it—but, no, Matt isn’t sensible. You’re absolutely right. I’ve got to stop Matt even if it means hitting him over the head. He’ll try to give—and he’ll be humiliated and mortified when he can’t.”
Stefan looked away. “You were humiliated and mortified?”
“We’re being completely honest with each other, aren’t we?” He nodded.
“Stefan—it isn’t flattering.”
“Tell me.”
“I felt—well—disposable. As if, when you were done with me, you would crush me like an aluminum can and toss me in the waste basket. I kept wondering if I’d be evaluated by the FDA. I didn’t feel like a person anymore.”
Stefan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He wanted to cry. But that was as unfair to Meredith as anything else that had happened. She would end up comforting him, the perpetrator.
“Don’t—Stefan, it’s not that bad. We did it for a reason, a reason we’d both agreed on beforehand. So just saying “food” is all wrong. I guess I was thinking of the other girls—and boys—out there who saw a sudden dark shadow in the night—”
“And then found themselves being served raw. We do what we do, Meredith. We prey on your species. To us—to most of us—you are meat. And for a lot of vampires, you’re disposable, a lot of them kill when they feed But you’ve known that all along, Meredith. You knew how different we were. You knew we were that bad. How could it have come as such a surprise?”
Meredith
Meredith thought, partly because knowing something is not the same as experiencing it. And then she thought, because I was hoping I was wrong.
“Stefan—please. Whatever your race is, you are not. And some of what I felt was sheer fear and unfamiliarity.”
“No, you were right the first time. It’s not something you should have to get used to. Under any circumstances. I’m a—”
Meredith’s cell phone chimed.
Like an automaton she picked up. “Yes? Matt? Yes, we’re just finishing up here. I know time is running out. We’ll hurry.”
She put the phone down and looked at Stefan.