Burly tried to get his balance back by coming forward. Elena used his own energy to trip him over the back of her blocking ankle by straightening her right leg and pulling with her left hand while driving with her right.
Cool! He tumbled over just as Meredith had done when she had made Elena practice this move over and over during the last three weeks. He crashed quite heavily into the wall and after that seemed to lose all interest in the proceedings.
Elena was so far into the zone that when a third figure came flying at her very fast, she almost assisted him clean over her shoulder. She managed to stop herself in time, which was good because it was Stefan.
He had obviously come to rescue her—in fact, he’d undoubtedly been tracking her aura all the way from her own room in Soto Hall. Now, however, he seemed to see a glint in her eye as she relaxed back into the depths of her hoodie.
“Good work,” he murmured, managing to look properly awed, and then he clearly took in her disguise, and added, “Um . . . damn! Is that—that’s Elena in there, right?” He made a show of peering into her hood, apparently not noticing the fact that he was simultaneously holding her hand and urging her up the next staircase. Of course, he could see in midnight darkness like a cat, and the slight shadow of her hood offered not the slightest protection from his visual acuity.
“It had better be,” Elena mused, “since you seem to be taking me to your bedroom. In quite a hurry, I might mention. I hope you’re not doing that with random girls in disguise—or with random short boys, either.”
Stefan gave her a longsuffering look. “Of course not,” he breathed. “They’re never random; they all look a lot like you.”
Elena snorted and murmured in a sing-song voice, “I know someone who’s not getting anything tonigh-hight.”
“It was a joke; a joke!” Stefan said hastily. After a moment’s thought, he added, “Actually . . . um . . . I got a glimpse of your face when you were taking care of those bad guys. Um, it was just a quick glimpse—but I know you so well . . .” He was clearly trying to cover all his bases.
Elena couldn’t help it; she smothered a chuckle into her sleeve. “So how much of the fight did you see?” she whispered.
Stefan gave her a sideways glance. “A fair bit. Well, all of it really. Mostly all—but maybe there was more at the beginning that I wasn’t there for. . . .”
“You came to rescue me when I first noticed that they were behind me,” Elena translated, resigned.
“Yes and no. Mostly yes. But you really were magnificent back there. Meredith’s a fine teacher.”
“That’s true.” Elena cheered up suddenly. “You know, she taught me a whole different set of pressure points for . . .” She clicked her teeth together meaningfully. “Your kind.”
“Oh. Right. Yes, Damon’s showed me pretty much the entire spectrum.”
“He did? Damon? That’s weird; I’m surprised he would take the . . .” Elena’s voice trailed off.
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
Elena felt anger rushing up inside her like steam. Damon had been beating Stefan up, hunting him, and humiliating him for centuries. “Remind me to remind him of a few pressure points the next time I see him.”
“It doesn’t matter now. Really. And he’s stopped ever since he, er, came back. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s genuinely grateful.”
“He should be; it took enough work,” Elena murmured absently. They had reached Stefan’s floor and stopped on the landing and she noticed they were getting some odd glances. “Stefan? I think we should stop holding hands now.”
Stefan took a quick look around, and then shrugged, squeezing their interlaced fingers. “Let them think what they want,” he said, and for the first time that night she glimpsed his sweet, wickedly handsome smile. “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
Elena twisted her wrist, slipping her hand free. “Yes,” she said in a voice that she knew no one other than her demon lover could hear. “But what about guys who really have to sneak around just because this place has such old-fashioned regulations? They may end up getting in trouble or—or even rusticated if we act like we’re totally flaunting the rules.”
Rustication meant losing your room and maybe also the right to continue classes. Of course, having a female in your room after 9:00 P.M. would lead to the exact same thing, which was why Elena had felt that sneaking in would be an adventure in the first place. Now she suddenly and heartily wished she hadn’t done it.
Stefan was still reacting to her last statement, wincing. “Of course you’re right. I’m an idiot.”
“Wrong,” Elena barely whispered, “I’m the idiot.”
“You? You always champion the underdog.”
“No, it’s just that I got a little taste of alienation when I was . . .” Elena clicked her teeth again, very gently. “Your kind. It taught me things I needed to learn—but not enough, obviously,” she finished under her breath.
They drew abreast of the odd-glancers. Elena set her face in its most pugnacious frown and walked with her most boyish lack of grace. It wasn’t going to be enough, she realized with a sinking feeling. The glancers had become starers and Elena was under serious scrutiny.
“Hey,” one of the starers said. “It’s not a—” And he used a term which made Elena want to put pressure just behind his jaw and keep it there until he screamed. “It’s a girl!”