“Bonnie.” Elena’s voice unsteady but her tone was demanding. “We don’t understand you. What kind of sacrifice?”
“Blood sacrifice,” Bonnie answered in a glutinous voice that made the hairs on Damon’s arms lift. “This is the second, but more is needed from Elena.”
Elena was closer to Bonnie than anyone else in the room. She looked doubtful, wetting her lips. But she kept her head, Damon noticed, as he continued to probe around Bonnie, trying to find whatever was feeding her this slop.
“Why should anyone need more from me?” Elena said in a careful, coaxing tone. “What could anyone want?”
“Blood and death.” The horrific answer came back in a maddeningly matter-of-fact tone. “That is the purpose of sacrifice. There will be more sacrifices soon.”
Meredith opened her mouth, but Elena, without even glancing back, waved a quelling hand at her. “I still don’t understand, Bonnie,” she said, moving stealthily until she was just behind the petite girl. “What do you think anyone would need blood sacrifices for? Or death?”
Even Damon, who was busy examining his little redbird to see exactly who was holding the strings of this ghastly marionette show, couldn’t have predicted what would happen next.
Bonnie whirled in her corner, hands flying down, and looked directly at Elena. Her face was distorted into a hideous leer, her small mouth twisted and grinning like a panting dog’s.
“FOR FUN!” she shouted in a hoarse voice not at all like her own light one.
Elena fell back as if she had been struck. Meredith darted to prop her up, then sat her on the bed and lunged forward again as Caroline shrilled a cry and Bonnie collapsed. Meredith wasn’t able to get to Bonnie quickly enough and there was a dull thud as Bonnie’s head hit the wall.
As if to echo it, there were four loud knocks at the door.
Everyone jumped, but no one said a word. Frightened glances were exchanged. Damon, frustrated in his attempt to trace any energy signature to Bonnie, strode forward to meet whatever new danger lay outside.
He grabbed the doorknob and nearly wrenched the door off its hinges in opening it.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded of the figure in the hallway.
“Uh . . . I’m from Amici’s?” A freckled delivery girl stepped forward hesitantly. “Someone ordered four large pizzas with everything?”
Damon deflated, hearing sighs behind him. “I suppose someone did,” he admitted and pulled a hundred dollar bill off his silver money clip. “Keep the change,” he said briefly, and shut the door on the girl’s astonished face. He dumped the four hot, square, greasy boxes on the nearest flat surface and turned to look at the queen-size bed.
Meredith had put the unconscious Bonnie on one side. Matt was talking to Elena, his arm around her shoulders, as she sat at the foot. Caroline had struggled up out of the lounge chair and was regarding the entire scene with an introspective frown.
“Get some ice out of the fridge,” Damon ordered her, and he went to check on his girls. “Then put it in a paper towel or something.”
“Are you all right?” he asked Elena. He pulled out his hipflask and made her drink a little Black Magic, ignoring Matt’s raised eyebrows.
The Black Magic helped. A hint of color showed in Elena’s drawn face and her body relaxed a bit.
“She—startled me, that’s all,” Elena said briefly. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Who was?” Matt muttered. He looked pleadingly at Damon. “What’s happening to Bonnie? Can you tell? Why is she saying all this crazy—stuff?”
Damon had to look away from his trusting young face. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he said harshly. “But I’m going to find out, you can bet on that. Matt, in a few minutes I’m going outside. I have to—well, do something that might help Bonnie and Elena. I can’t explain now, but will you watch Elena while I’m gone? Promise not to leave her alone even for a minute?”
“Of course,” Matt said instantly. His eyes were questioning,
but his voice was steady. As if I were Stefan, Damon thought sardonically.
He pushed his way by so that he could stand beside Meredith, who was bent over Bonnie. “What’s going on?”
“She went into another . . . psychogenic trance thing,” Meredith said, apparently thinking he might have missed it.
“How is she now, though?” Damon accepted the ice pack that Caroline slid across the bed.
“I don’t know. She seems a little feverish, but—well, frankly, I have no idea at all what’s going on!”
“I’m trying to figure it out, too,” Damon said sincerely. “But I have no clue as to what the problem is. Here, put this on her head where she bumped it. Did you hear what I asked Matt to do for Elena?”