"But, Elena-" "And I'll probably go home with Bonnie or Meredith after school, so don't wait dinner. Bye!"
"Elena-"
Elena was already at the front door. She closed it behind her, cutting off Aunt Judith's distant protests, and stepped out onto the front porch.
And stopped.
All the bad feelings of the morning rushed over her again. The anxiety, the fear. And the certainty that something terrible was about to happen.
Maple Street was deserted. The tall Victorian houses looked strange and silent, as if they might all be empty inside, like the houses on an abandoned movie set. They looked as if they were empty ofpeople , but full of strange watching things.
That was it; something was watching her. The sky overhead was not blue but milky and opaque, like a giant bowl turned upside down.
The air was stifling, and Elena felt sure that there were eyes on her.
She caught sight of something dark in the branches of the old quince tree in front of the house.
It was a crow, sitting as still as the yellow-tinged leaves around it. And it was the thing watching her.
She tried to tell herself that this was ridiculous, but somehow she knew . It was the biggest crow she had ever seen, plump and sleek, with rainbows shining in its black feathers. She could see every detail of it clearly: the greedy dark claws, the sharp beak, the single glittering black eye.
It was so motionless that it might have been a wax model of a bird sitting there. But as she stared at it, Elena felt herself flush slowly, heat coming in waves up her throat and cheeks. Because it was... looking at her. Looking the way boys looked at her when she wore a bathing suit or a sheer blouse. As if it were undressing her with its eyes.
Before she realized what she was doing, she had dropped her backpack and picked up a stone from beside the driveway. "Get out of here," she said, and heard the shaking anger in her own voice. "Go on! Getaway !" With the last word, she threw the stone.
There was an explosion of leaves, but the crow soared up unharmed. Its wings were huge, and they made enough racket for a whole flock of crows. Elena crouched, suddenly panicked as it flapped directly over her head, the wind of its wings ruffling her blond hair.
But it swooped up again and circled, a black silhouette against the paper-white sky. Then, with one harsh croak, it wheeled away toward the woods.
Elena straightened up slowly, then glanced around, self-conscious. She couldn't believe what she had just done. But now that the bird was gone, the sky felt ordinary again. A little wind made the leaves flutter, and Elena took a deep breath. Down the street a door opened and several children poured out, laughing.
She smiled at them, and took another breath, relief sweeping through her like sunlight. How could she have been so silly? This was a beautiful day, full of promise, and nothing bad was going to happen.
Nothing bad was going to happen-except that she was going to be late getting to school. The whole crowd would be waiting for her in the parking lot.
You could always tell everyone you stopped to throw stones at a Peeping Tom, she thought, and almost giggled. Now,that would give them something to think about.
Without a backward glance at the quince tree, she began to walk as quickly as she could down the street.
The crow crashed through the top of the massive oak, and Stefan's head jerked up reflexively. When he saw it was only a bird, he relaxed.
His eyes dropped to the limp white form in his hands, and he felt his face twist in regret. He hadn't meant to kill it. He would have hunted something larger than a rabbit if he'd known how hungry he was. But, of course, that was the very thing that frightened him: never knowing how strong the hunger would be, or what he might have to do to satisfy it. He was lucky that this time he'd killed only a rabbit.
He stood beneath the ancient oak trees, sunlight filtering down onto his curly hair. In jeans and T-shirt, Stefan Salvatore looked exactly like a normal high school student.
He wasn't.
Deep in the woods, where no one would see him, he'd come to feed. Now he licked at his gums and lips painstakingly, to make sure there was no stain on them. He didn't want to take any chances. This masquerade was going to be hard enough to pull off as it was.
For a moment he wondered, again, if he should just give it all up. Perhaps he should go back to Italy, back to his hiding place. What made him think that he could rejoin the world of daylight?
But he was tired of living in shadows. He was tired of the darkness, and of the things that lived in it. Most of all, he was tired of being alone.
He wasn't sure why he'd chosen Fell's Church, Virginia. It was a young town, by his standards; the oldest buildings had been put up only a century and a half ago. But memories and ghosts of the Civil War still lived here, as real as the supermarkets and fast-food joints.
Stefan appreciated respect for the past. He thought he might come to like the people of Fell's Church. And perhaps-just perhaps-he might find a place among them.
He'd never be accepted completely, of course. A bitter smile curved his lips at the idea. He knew better than to hope forthat . There would never be a place where he could belong completely, where he could truly be himself.