Stefan. Stefan had been so certain, so... convincing...in his announcements about being wel again.
Al that talk about going back to hunting animals - but the truth was that he needed much more blood to recover.
Now her mind spun into planning mode, faster and faster.
Stefan obviously wasn't going to be able to Influence both of those officers without a very large donation of human blood.
And if Elena gave it...the sick feeling in her stomach increased and she felt the smal hairs on her body stand up...if she gave it, what were the chances that she would become a vampire herself?
High, a cool, rational voice in her mind answered. Very high, considering that less than a week ago, she had been exchanging blood with Damon. Frequently. Uninhibitedly.
Which left her with the only plan she could think of. These sheriffs wouldn't find Matt, but Meredith and Bonnie had told her the whole story of how another Ridgemont sheriff had come, asking about Matt - and about Stefan's girlfriend. The problem was that she, Elena Gilbert, had "died"nine months ago. She shouldn't be here - and she had a feeling that these officers would be inquisitive.
They needed Stefan's Power. Right now. There was no other way, no other choice. Stefan. Power. Human blood.
She moved to Meredith, who had her dark head down and cocked to one side as if listening to the two sheriffs clomping above on the stairs.
"Meredith - "
Meredith turned toward her and Elena almost took a step back in shock. Meredith's normal y olive complexion was gray, and her breath was coming fast and shal owly.
Meredith, calm and composed Meredith, already knew what Elena was going to ask of her. Enough blood to leave her out of control as it was being taken. And fast. That terrified her.
More than terrified.
She can't do it, Elena thought. We're lost.
Chapter 10
Damon was making his way up the beautiful rose-covered trel is below the window of the bedchamber of M. le Princess Jessalyn D'Aubigne, a very wealthy, beautiful, and much-admired girl who had the bluest blood of any vampire in the Dark Dimension, according to the books he'd bought. In fact, he'd listened to the locals and it was rumored that Sage himself had changed her two years ago, and had given her this bijoux castle to live in. Delicate gem that it appeared, though, the little castle had already presented Damon with several problems. There had been that razor-wire fence, on which he ripped his leather jacket; an unusual y dexterous and stubborn guard whom it had real y been a pity to strangle; an inner moat that had almost taken him unawares; and a few dogs that he had treated with the Saber-tranquilizer routine - using Mrs. Flowers's sleeping powder, which he'd brought with him from Earth. It would have been easier to poison them, but Jessalyn was reputed to have a very soft heart for animals and he needed her for at least three days. That should be long enough to make him a vampire - if they did nothing else during those days.
Now, as he pul ed himself silently up the trel is, he mental y added long rose thorns to the list of inconveniences. He also rehearsed his first speech to Jessalyn. She had been - was - would forever be - eighteen. But it was a young eighteen, since she had only two years'experience at being a vampire.
He comforted himself with this as he climbed silently into a window.
Still silently, moving slowly in case the princess had guardian animals in her bedchamber, Damon parted layer after layer of filmy, translucent black curtains that kept the blood-red light of the sun from shining into the chamber. His boots sank into the thick pile of a black rug. Making it out of the enfolding curtains, Damon saw that the entire chamber was decorated in a simple theme by a master of contrast. Jet-black and off-black. black.
He liked it a lot.
There was an enormous bed with more bil owing filmy black curtains almost encasing it. The only way to approach it was from the foot, where the diaphanous curtains were thinner.
Standing there in the cathedral-like silence of the great chamber, Damon looked at the slight figure under the black silk sheets, among dozens of smal throw pil ows.
She was a jewel like the castle. Delicate bones. A look of utter innocence as she slept. An ethereal river of fine, scarlet hair spil ing about her. He could see individual hairs