Paradise Lost (The Vampire Diaries 20)

“It would have been hard not to.”

“Will you do the same for Bonnie? Not leave her alone tonight, even for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Meredith said, sounding indignant. “I’d do it whether you asked me or not. But I think I’ll take her back to our room if she wakes up.”

“Fine, but don’t try to force her awake. I have a feeling that it could be dangerous. And when she wakes up naturally, don’t ask too many questions.”

Damon! The telepathic voice was unmistakable. I’m waiting in my dorm room for you. And I don’t even sense you moving.

Sense this, Damon sent back rudely, and he added a few crude epithets in Italian. We’re having a slight crisis here, but I’ll be there in ten minutes, he added.

Five minutes. There was a lot of Power behind the message.

Whatever, Damon replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But once outside Elena’s room, he broke into a distance-eating run.

He was almost on time. He would have been closer, except that he spent a minute or two outside Soto Hall strafing probes randomly in all directions. He still couldn’t believe it when he came up with no vampire other than Stefan.

Stefan opened the door of his room looking angry and accusing. Damon reflexively fell back into his most bland and leisurely expression and lounged his way inside.

“What the hell is going on?” Stefan demanded. “If Elena is here, who were they talking about on the radio?”

“And hello to you, too,” Damon said languidly. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“I don’t care how you are. When did—did Elena get released? You said she was with you.”

The slight stutter made Damon glance up sharply. He realized that if one looked closely enough, Stefan’s bravado was just that: bravado. Underneath, he was desperately worried.

Damon felt the upper hand slide smoothly onto his fist. He sat down on the bed in the spartan room.

“Elena was released from Mercy Havenwick this afternoon,” he said expressionlessly. “She’s in her room now, watching TV—or at least she was.”

“Then she’s really all right.”

“She’s better than all right; she’s been chafing at the bit to get out of that hospital since this morning. She was cured by the time you left her. But are you certain you’re all right, little brother?”—very solicitously.

Stefan froze over. “Oh, yes, I’m just fine. It’s always been my vocation in life to erase my existence from the world.”

“So you’ve finished, then?”

“I finished—last night.” Again the audible hesitation. Damon’s little brother had something on his mind.

“You got the diaries?”

“I did everything. Everything to everyone,” Stefan said impatiently.

Damon stretched, catlike. “Sounds like fun,” he murmured, but the next second he added, “Then what are you doing still on campus?”

“I just drove back to collect Meredith’s fighting stave. I hid it in the forest here.”

“And I see,” Damon commented genially, “that you’ve been taking my advice for once.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve discovered that you need human blood for survival.”

Stefan, who had been a tensely pacing young man, became a tensely leaping blur as he sprang and got his hands around Damon’s throat. Damon, caught by surprise, could only get a mirror hold on Stefan’s throat and try to choke him into unconsciousness.

“Take it back!” Stefan shouted. “Take it back or I swear I’ll break your playacting neck!”