“No! Elena crossed it out, in her diary! She crossed it out after she wrote it.”
Meredith was silent a moment. Then: “She got cold feet. Just the way you’ve got now. You need to believe in yourself, Bonnie. And if that crossed-out line wasn’t a true prophecy, then I’ve never heard one. She met a crow right outside her front door.”
* * *
Caroline Forbes frowned at the fingernail she was currently painting a deep iridescent duo-chrome green; the second coat of two. She liked green; it matched her eyes. She also liked her nails long. Of course that meant mastering the art of texting with the tips, and of using the fleshy pad of her pinkies to work on touch screens. That was fine; it was the price of beauty.
But just now she was feeling uncomfortable. Irritable.
And very, very pregnant.
She supposed she should be grateful it was just twins. She shifted position on her padded chair again. After all, most gray wolves had around five pups at once, and werewolf mothers commonly gave birth to triplets.
Caroline ducked her head just thinking about it, letting auburn hair for a moment blessedly cover her eyes.
There was no mirror in this room other than the makeup mirror on the vanity before her. Caroline shut the blinds regularly at sunset so that no darkened window could throw back her distorted reflection at her.
And it still wasn’t enough! All Caroline had to do was look down at her ungainly stomach to be reminded that her fit, sinewy body was a thing of the past.
Worst of all, nobody seemed able to tell her when her new, gourd-shaped form would finally release its burden. Her father was influential enough to have gotten her a werewolf obstetrician, but the woman was an idiot. She could only shake her head and give speeches about how not knowing the exact date of conception versus the exact date of conversion to wolvenkind made the birthdate so uncertain.
Caroline glanced around the dorm room with tears of self-pity prickling in her eyes. However, looking around only made the tears spill. She knew that all the pretty, expensive, softly harmonious things in the room had been bought by her parents—but they’d been actually set in order by Elena and Elena’s entourage.
For that matter, she supposed she was one of Elena’s entourage now. She couldn’t help feeling some gratitude.
The fact that she was also one of three freshmen to get a dorm room to herself was, she knew, due entirely to Stefan and his ability to Influence the humans who ran Dalcrest.
Now why could vampires do that and change shape if they were powerful enough and werewolves could only change shape? And why did vampires get a choice in their shape-changing, while werewolves were stuck with the lupine thing?
Caroline sighed as she painted the last fingernail luscious green. Thinking about her wolf-shape made delicate frissons run up and down her spine. She wasn’t ungainly in that form; it was impossible to tell that she was pregnant.
Maybe she would . . .
But, no. Not here—this small room would only frustrate the wolf in her. It wanted to run, to sniff the night air, to hunt and cavort under the starry night. It wanted to leap through an open window and race for the woods nearby, where Caroline had heard from her obstetrician that other creatures like her congregated of an evening. They would appreciate her beauty immediately, she felt sure.
It would be supremely unfair to force such an untamed animal to pace the narrow boundaries of the indoors.
Besides, her nail polish needed a clear top coat to make it smooth. A nuisance, but that was the price one paid for iridescent green glitter.
* * *
Matt Honeycutt glanced up at the hundred dollar bill he had framed and hung on his side of the dorm room. It was in memory of his Uncle Joe, who had given him a lot of advice—some of it good, and some pretty darn funny.
It helped him, right now, to stick to his studying, and to put aside regrets about that football scholarship at Kent State. He was here at Dalcrest to get a good education, even if it did sound as if everyone around him and in particular the guy directly above him was having a party.
For a moment Matt considered standing on his desk and thumping on the ceiling with his shoe, but he didn’t want to be unfriendly. He tried to shut his ears to the racket instead.
Unfortunately, the hundred dollar bill and the distraction of the noise made him think about something else, something that he wanted desperately to keep out of his mind.
Elena.
That same hundred had figured largely in their first date, which had been in early autumn like this. It had become something of a talisman for them.
But now Elena was with Stefan.
Well, at least she wasn’t with Damon. A little more than a month ago, Matt had been very unsure about her intentions. He couldn’t help the sharp breath he took, at the very thought of Damon. Damn! Just when you think that a guy is good and dead and ought to stay that way; couldn’t happen to a nastier fellow, he’s suddenly back alive and more arrogant than ever.
But of course Stefan had been devastated by his older brother’s death. And sorry, Mutt, a voice in Matt’s head seemed to say, but Elena was the same way, and Bonnie, too. That was why Damon wasn’t still resting in peace.