"What did you find out, Damon?"
Shrugging, Damon fol owed her into the room.
"Nothing," he answered grimly. "But I certainly don't think the missing kids just freaked out and went home or to Daytona Beach or something. I think you need to be careful." Elena sat down on her bed, drew her knees up, and rested her chin on them. "Have you used your Power to try to figure out what's going on?" she asked. "Meredith said she would ask you."
Damon sat down next to her and sighed. "Beloved, as little as I like to admit it, even my Power has limits," he said.
"If someone is much stronger than me, like Klaus was, he can hide himself. If someone is much weaker, he doesn't usualy make enough of an impression for me to find him unless I already know who he is. And for some ridiculous reason" - he scowled - "I can never sense werewolves at al ."
"So you can't help?" Elena said, dismayed.
"Oh, I didn't say that," Damon said. He touched a loose strand of Elena's golden hair with one long finger. "Pretty," he said absently. "I like your hair pul ed back like this." She twitched away from him, and he dropped his hand. "I'm looking into it," he went on, his eyes gleaming. "I haven't had a good hunt in far too long."
Elena wasn't sure that she ought to find this comforting, but she did, in a kind of scary way. "You'l be relentless, then?" she asked, a little chil going through her, and he nodded, his long black lashes half veiling his eyes.
She was so sleepy and felt happier now that she'd seen Damon, although she knew she shouldn't have let him in.
She missed him, too. "You had better go," she said, yawning. "Let me know what you find out." Damon stood, hesitating by the end of her bed. "I don't like leaving you alone here," he said. "Not with everything that's been happening. Where are those friends of yours?"
"They'l be here," Elena said. Something generous in her made her add, "But if you're that worried, you can sleep here if you want." She'd missed him, she had, and he was being a perfect gentleman. And she had to admit, she would feel safer with him there.
"I can?" Damon quirked a wicked eyebrow.
"On the floor," Elena said firmly. "I'm sure Bonnie and Meredith wil be glad for your protection, too." It was a lie.
While Bonnie would be thril ed to see him, there was a decent chance Meredith would kick him on purpose as she crossed the room. She might even put on special pointy-toed boots to do it.
Elena got up and pul ed down a spare blanket from her closet for him, then headed off to brush her teeth and change. When she came back, al ready for bed, he was lying on the floor, wrapped in the blanket. His eyes lingered for a minute on the curve of her neck leading down to her lacy white nightgown, but he didn't say anything.
Elena climbed into bed and turned out the light. "Good night, Damon," she said.
There was a soft rush of air. Then suddenly he whispered softly in her ear, "Good night, princess." Cool lips brushed her cheek and then were gone.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Elena woke to find Damon gone, his blanket folded neatly at the foot of her bed. Meredith was dressing for a morning workout, sleepy-eyed and silent, and she only nodded as Elena passed her; Elena had learned long ago that Meredith was useless for conversation before she'd had her first cup of coffee.
Bonnie, who didn't have class until that afternoon, was only a lump under her covers.
Surely Meredith would have said something if she had noticed Damon on the floor, Elena thought as she dropped in at the cafeteria to grab a muffin before class. Maybe Damon hadn't stayed. Elena bit her lip, thinking about that, kicking little stones on her way to class. She had thought he would stay, that he would want to try and keep her safe.
Was it right that she liked that and that she felt more than a twinge of hurt at the idea that he had left?
She didn't want Damon to be in love with her, did she?
Wasn't part of the reason she put her romance with Stefan on hold so that she and Damon could get each other out of their systems? But...
I am a lousy person, she realized.
Musing on her own lousiness took Elena al the way into her History of the South class, where she was doodling sadly in her notebook when Professor Campbel - James
- came in. Clearing his throat loudly, he walked to the front of the class, and Elena reluctantly pul ed her attention away from her own problems to pay attention to him.
James looked different. Unsure of himself, Elena realized. His eyes didn't seem quite as bright as usual, and he appeared to be somehow smal er.
"There's been another disappearance," he said quietly.
An anxious babble rose up from the rest of the class, and he held up his hand. "The victim this time - and I think we can say at this point that we're talking about victims, not students simply leaving campus - is, unfortunately, a student in this class. Courtney Brooks is missing; she was last seen walking back to her dorm from a party last night." Scanning the class, Elena tried to remember who Courtney Brooks was. A tal , quiet girl with caramel-colored hair, she thought, and spotted the girl's empty seat.