Eventually, Damon got tired of trading blows and blasts. He could feel how much Stefan’s responses had slowed down, and he made a sudden feint by going limp, and then, when Stefan was pinned on the floor by his dead weight, he struck like a cobra for his brother’s neck. The tip of one canine just grazed a vein and a small and bitter amount of vampire blood spurted into his mouth.
Stefan went limp in his turn, but Damon didn’t bother to check whether it was a feint or not. He simply dragged his own body up and away, and forced his muscles to leave him propped languidly against the wall. He pressed some button in his brain and all the various pains and indignities he had suffered during the fight washed over him. They hurt, but he was still standing when his head cleared.
Stefan was getting up now, apparently seeking the bed to sit on, but uselessly since it had been overturned in the early stages of the fight. At last he found the chair that went with the desk (also now overturned) and collapsed on it.
Damon felt a little better. It had been a strange, silent battle, without any of the usual elaborate Italian cursing involved, but he felt he had made his point. He’d also proved, as if it needed to be established, that human blood would always provide superior Power, and that Stefan’s diet of animal blood was always going to betray him sooner or later.
Damon did his best at lounging against the wall and tried to remember exactly why he had attacked his younger brother in the first place. Oh, yes. Stefan had gotten fresh about Damon’s girls and Damon wasn’t going to let anyone get away with that.
“If you don’t mind,” Damon said, managing one gorgeous smile at nothing in particular, “let’s consider that particular subject closed.”
Stefan was still trying to make sure that he still had the normal complement of limbs, fingers and ears. At last he said, sullenly, “You can close as many subjects as you want. But I’m not leaving until I’m certain that Elena is reasonably safe.”
“Fine,” Damon said sarcastically. “Why didn’t you just say so in the beginning? It would have saved trouble. You can stay in this room if you want to—possibly after some major redecorating,” he added, looking around. They had done a pretty thorough job.
“Of course I can’t stay here,” Stefan said heatedly. “You’re staying here.”
“Of course I’m not staying here,” Damon replied, his voice icy with contempt. “I’m staying with Elena in her room.”
“You’re . . . moving in with her? That’s what you’re planning?”
“I already have moved in. And I’ve been through one big noisy fuss about it already, so don’t even think about starting another.”
Stefan was briefly silent. Then he said slowly, “So you’re sleeping on her floor?”
Damon lost his temper. “Little brother, you were the one who set all this up, right? You set me up to live like Elena’s human lover. Just exactly what were you expecting me to do?”
“To watch over Elena the way you did back when she first became a vampire,” Stefan said passionately. “Do you even remember that? The days when you watched over her without—without taking advantage of her!”
“No, that’s not true: what you expected. You knew exactly what you were doing when you made me her ‘boyfriend of a year.’ You set this all up. And you presume that I should behave completely differently from you when she loved you?”
Stefan stared into the distance. He gave the impression of panting, although he wasn’t doing anything of the kind. “I don’t know—I don’t remember what I expected of you,” he said angrily at last. “Except what I made you promise. I certainly didn’t expect to have to stay here and watch it!”
“There,” Damon said in his most distantly polite tone, “is the door. You will find it leads to a corridor, some stairs, and a place called Outside. Go Outside and then get the hell off of my territory. I’m telling you this, by the way, as the person who bled you not five minutes ago.”
“You won a fight. Big deal. Nothing is going to make me leave Elena if a—a copycat vampire is around. Do you really even think there’s a strange vampire in the vicinity?”
Damon shrugged. “Give me the benefit of your wisdom, little brother. What else can it be?”
“I don’t know,” Stefan said slowly. In the dark, his pupils filled his irises so that his eyes were only just ringed with a narrow band of green. He stared intently at Damon a moment before he added, “It could be something new. Something that came up from the Nether World. Have you ever heard of a baobhan sith?” He pronounced it “baa-van shee.”
“A what?” Damon demanded. “No, don’t bother to tell me. Whatever it is, it’s my fau
lt, right? If it’s from the Nether World, it’s on me.” Suddenly Damon felt tired and sick. And . . . hungry. Yes, definitely quite hungry. He needed to feed soon.
“Look,” he said almost expressionlessly. “If you won’t leave my territory, at least leave the campus. Go and live in the forest the way I did in the Old Wood in Fell’s Church. But get the freaking hell out of here. You don’t belong here now, any more than I belonged to Elena’s coterie last year. Can you understand?”
Stefan looked tired himself as he replied, “Just for information’s sake: I wasn’t trying to blame the sith creature on you. It was just a theory about why we can’t find a vampire, and undoubtedly it’s wrong. And I will leave the campus; I promise that after tonight you’ll never see me again. But first I’m going to tell you the prophecies Mrs. Flowers told me. You may need them. And I’m going to give you two things for Elena.”
Damon felt dim interest in the prophecies in spite of himself. The old lady could be helpful at times. “So?”
Dragging out each word, Stefan gave two completely meaningless oracular sayings to Damon, who listened with growing disappointment and afterward commented, “How . . . quaint. I’d say she’s fruity as a nutcake, but I’m sure you’d take exception.”
“I thought you should know about them,” Stefan repeated doggedly. “And here are the things for Elena. This locket I gave her the night we—parted. I’ve taken my picture out; you can replace it with one of you, if you like.”
Damon examined the locket silently. The ruby red rose was certainly striking against the black diamond background. It was a nice piece of craftsmanship.
“And the second thing?” he asked, sticking the necklace in his jeans pocket.