Tearing her eyes away from the ground, Bonnie looked back up at Elena. “Oh, Elena, I don’t think—”
“You managed to bring Stefan to see me,” Elena went on doggedly, holding tight to her friend’s arm.
Bonnie tried to pull away. “But you weren’t supposed to be dead! Klaus had you in some kind of halfway place—you were a prisoner, not dead-dead.” She hesitated, and then asked in a low voice, “And do you remember how the Guardians said vampires just… end?”
“It’s worth a try, though, isn’t it?” Elena said quickly. “Guardians don’t know everything, we’ve proved that before. If you could help me to see him, Bonnie…” She was holding on to Bonnie too tightly, she realized, and forced her hands to relax. “Please,” she added quietly.
Bonnie chewed her lip. Elena could feel the moment when she gave in, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t want you to be hurt any more than you already are,” Bonnie said quietly.
“We have to try,” Elena insisted.
Bonnie hesitated, then finally nodded. “Okay.” She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and stepped toward the river, pulling Elena along with her. “When I did it for Stefan, I went into a trance and made contact with you, then brought him in. But I think maybe we’ll have to try something different.”
Their feet crunched over the rocky sand as Bonnie pulled Elena with her to the very edge of the river. Water lapped against their sneakers, soaking through the fabric and chilling Elena’s toes.
“I want you to let me use your Power,” Bonnie said, squeezing Elena’s hand. “It’ll help me search for Stefan. When I communicated with you, you came to me first, so I knew how to find you. I imagine he’ll be hard to find.”
“Of course,” Elena said.
She held tightly to Bonnie’s hand and tried to channel her own Power into her friend. Taking a deep, slow breath, Elena forced herself to relax until, out of the corners of her eyes, she began to see her own golden aura. It was dulled with gray patches of grief, but still stretched wide around her, entwining with the rose-pink of Bonnie’s aura.
Bonnie took a deep breath of her own and fixed her eyes on the patterns of the sunlight reflecting off the water. “Just as good as a candle for focusing,” she said absently. Elena watched as Bonnie’s small face became intent, her pupils as wide as a cat’s. Elena closed her own eyes.
Darkness. But ahead of her, a glimmer of rose and gold. Bonnie’s aura entwined with her own, leading her on. Bonnie’s small figure, very straight and determined, walked swiftly into the distance.
Elena hurried after her, her chest tight with excitement. She would see Stefan again. She could tell him how hard it was without him, every day, and he would hold her in his arms and comfort her. It would be like coming home.
They walked on into the darkness, the light of their auras surrounding them both. But then, slowly, the glow of their entwined auras began to fade. Elena called out, but her voice stuck in her throat. Where was Bonnie? Elena tried to run after her, but her friend grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing from view.
Elena stopped, half-sobbing.
“Stefan!” she called. Her voice echoed back to her. “Stefan!”
She was alone in the darkness.
Elena’s eyes fluttered open. She was standing on the riverbank, her toes chilled by the lapping waves. Bonnie blinked up at her, her face pale and wet with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Elena,” she said. “I couldn’t find him. He’s not anywhere we can reach.”
Elena leaned into her friend, letting Bonnie’s arms circle her shoulders, and sobbed.
Bonnie felt terrible. As she toed off her damp sneakers in the entryway of her and Zander’s apartment, she sniffled experimentally. Maybe spending the afternoon at the river had given her a cold. That would be an easy explanation for the rotten, hollow sensation in her chest.
But, no, if Bonnie was honest with herself, she had to admit the feeling was guilt. The first thing Elena had asked her for since Stefan had died—the only thing Elena had asked anybody for at all—and Bonnie couldn’t do it.
Remembering Elena’s strained smile when she thanked her for trying, Bonnie almost tripped over Zander’s mud-caked work boots, catching herself with a hand against the wall. Now, the end of summer, was the time when his landscaping business planted shrubs and trees, and every day he came home absolutely filthy.
That was what Bonnie needed. Zander. He’d pull her into his arms, smelling of grass and sunshine, and tell that it was okay, that she’d done the best she could.
She heard Zander’s voice and followed his low tones to the kitchen. As she turned the corner from the hallway, she stopped for a moment to simply look at him. He was standing with his back to her, all long lean muscles and tanned skin, his moonlight-blond hair curling at the nape of his neck, still damp with sweat. They’d been together for years now, but the sight of him still sometimes made her want to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“I know,” he said sharply into the phone. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“Hey,” she whispered, stepping forward and lightly brushing her fingers across his back. Zander jumped.
“Bonnie’s here,” he said tightly, turning around to face her. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.” He clicked the phone off.
“Who was that?” Bonnie asked, leaning forward for a kiss. Zander’s lips met hers, warm and soft. When he pulled away, though, he avoided her eyes.