Fells Church, 8:00 P.M.
“Well. . .”
“Well, what?” Aurora prodded. “This Damon has been occupying your thoughts quite steadily for the past half hour, non? Why is he so important?”
Bonnie sighed. She didn’t want to think about Damon anymore. Frankly the subject of the malevolent Italian was starting to give her a headache. Was it really that though? More than likely it was her nauseating surroundings.
*I have to get out of this room!* she thought wildly. Her eyes kept roaming back to the outline of Caroline’s body, and the smell of the blood was going to drive her insane.
“Moi aussi,” Aurora said vaguely. “Although I suspect for a different reason.”
Bonnie groaned in response to Aurora’s comment “I wish you’d stop reading my mind,” was her quiet reply.
The vampire looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. . .habit.”
Rolling her eyes, Bonnie pushed past her into the hallway. Instantly, she could breathe easier. And once she was back in the main room of the apartment, she sank down on the expensive leather couch and shut her eyes. Something told her she would never be able to forget the sight of all that blood for as long as she lived.
“Why did you come here ma petite?” Bonnie heard Aurora ask. She felt the cushions dip as the tall vampire sat next to her.
*Oh, why not?* Her strength was gone. *Hmm. . .maybe I should have eaten Meredith’s soup. . .* Bonnie’s mind was running rampant in her exhaustion. And as the last of her resistance fled, she realized that she trusted this strange woman beside her. None of her psychic senses were alarmed. She was suddenly seized with a mad impulse to tell her anything and everything.
“I came to try and discover if Damon had anything to do with Caroline’s death.”
The vampire was not phased. “How were you going to do that?”
“I have ways,” Bonnie replied mysteriously. Aurora began to ask another question, but Bonnie shook her head and cut her off. “Huh-uh. Now you answer one. Just exactly who are you?”
Aurora assumed her amused look again, arching one eyebrow perfectly. “D’accord,” she said amiably, “if this is the game we are playing. . .my name is Aurora Katerine Delmonoix. I was born in a petite village near the English Channel called St. Malo. The year was 1773. I was the youngest daughter of a poor shopkeeper and his wife. Shortly after my twentieth birthday, I met the vampire who made what you see before you today. Est-ce que sufficient?”
Bonnie smiled, beginning to understand Aurora’s intermingling languages. “Yes, that’s sufficient. . .for now.”
“Merci, my royal highness. Now, if I may pose another question?”
Feeling an insane urge to giggle, Bonnie nodded. “You may.”
“I sense a lot of conflict in you when you think of Damon,” she began slowly, as if gauging Bonnie’s reaction. “He fills you sometimes with fear and anger, but always with curiosity and longing.”
“Yes, always,” Bonnie echoed softly. She seemed doomed to be haunted by that word.
“What happened with him?”
“Not as much as you’d think,” was the vague answer.
Aurora frowned. “Bonnie, you must help me understand. I don’t know why I’m here. I was called, and had to come, but I don’t know who or what called me. If Damon is behind what’s happening here, I must know. I need to understand him.”
Laughter welled up in Bonnie’s throat. “Understand Damon?” She turned to look at Aurora incredulously. “That’s hysterical. No one understands Damon. Not even his brother.”
“Il a un frere?” Aurora’s eyes widened. “He has a brother?”
*She’s going to get the whole story eventually,* Bonnie rationalized. “Yes, he has a brother. Stefan,” her reply was careless, and she expected another barrage of questions. Instead, she received silence. Aurora looked as though she were in shock.
“Aurora?”
The dark-haired vampire looked at Bonnie as if she weren’t seeing her. Her eyes were glazed, and she gripped Bonnie’s hand tightly. “Salvatore,” she whispered.
Bonnie started. “How did you know that?”
Just as quickly as she’d gone into it, Aurora snapped out of her trance. She smiled and squeezed Bonnie’s hand in reassurance. Then she tapped her own head. “You were broadcasting to me again,” she replied simply.
Bonnie felt her eyes narrow. “I don’t believe you,” she stated. “Do you know Damon or Stefan?”
Aurora sighed. “I know of them. They’ve made quite an impression upon the vampire community.”
“The human one as well,” Bonnie replied without thinking.
“So I gathered.” Aurora paused, searching for words, then went on. “Look petite, you may as well come out with the entire story. It may help. And who knows, maybe we can come up with a. . .” she faltered.
“Plan?” Bonnie suggested.
“Oui, merci. A plan, nous avons besoin--pardon. We need a plan.”
Bonnie thought a moment. She didn’t have any other leads, may as well make do with this one.
“No one settles for moi. I am a high commodity I’ll have you know.” Aurora declared haughtily.
Bonnie laughed. “Do you realize you do that without even thinking about it?”
“Read your thoughts?” Aurora’s smile was devilish. “Oh, I think about it.” She reached out and cupped Bonnie’s chin. “You know you have the power as well.”
“I know,” Bonnie said quietly.
“And those ‘ways’ you mentioned earlier,” Aurora went on. “You are a witch, non?”
“More like a witchlet,” was the red-head’s sheepish reply. “A newbie witchlet. I haven’t had much practice.”
Aurora was laughing deeply as she stood up. She pulled Bonnie with her. The difference in their heights was amazing. Bonnie felt like a midget.
“We shall work on that. I will help you develop your powers. It’s always nice to know you have some way of defending yourself. And your height is perfect. I could not call you ‘ma petite’ if you were any taller. Now let us get out of here. This place is giving me, how you say. . .`the creeps’.”
Bonnie let Aurora lead her to the door. A vampire getting “the creeps”? This was too amusing. . .
* * * * *
Cecily’s Apartment, 10:05 P.M.
*There is something inherently wrong in my head,* Matt thought to himself as he followed Cecily down the hall of her apartment complex. *What am I doing?*
“Thanks for bringing me home,” Cecily broke into his thoughts. She stopped in front of a door that read “C13” and fished a key out of her purse. “I don’t like to walk by myself at night.”
Matt laughed nervously. “You’re from Brooklyn, and you’re afraid of a little town in Virginia?” He paused and considered what he’d just said. “Nevermind,” he amended. “Be afraid.”
Cecily threw him a weird look as she opened her door. “Very afraid?” she teased.
Matt smiled without humor and followed her inside. His sarcastic mood was quickly overshadowed by surprise. “Whoa, Cecily, this place is fantastic!”
Looking around, Matt saw the home of his dreams. Modern furniture with classic straight lines, all in black, outfitted the large spacious living area. The carpet was plush, and a soft gray that complemented the dove color of the walls. Replicas of several modern paintings hung around the room.
“It’s like you went in my head and took out my ideal apartment,” he told her breathlessly as he examined different aspects of the room.
Cecily frowned. “You found me out,” she said. “I read your mind and did this just to get you here. Now you know too much.” She paused, then continued soberly. “I’m afraid I have to kill you.”
Matt stared at her, aghast. “Excuse me?”
She nodded, full of solemnity. “I’m afraid so. Of course, that’s after I get you into bed one more time.” Her frown broke and she burst into laughter.
He continued to stare at her in amazement. *Damn, I thought only guys tried lines like that.*
Cecily punched him playfully on the arm. “Lighten up Matt.” She kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse in the hall. “Would you like something to drink?” she offered over her shoulder as she padded softly into her kitchen.
Matt followed her. He leaned against the wall, watching as she puttered around, getting glasses and ice. Her blond hair was so pale and fine; it was like gossamer. It caressed her shoulders in thin silky waves.
*You’re in trouble boy,* he thought miserably as his eyes locked to the graceful movement of her hips as she walked. He knew he would sleep with her again if she wanted him too. There seemed no point in resisting. And as Cecily reached into her refrigerator for a pitcher of iced tea, allowing her blouse to stretch tightly over her chest, Matt began to wonder why he’d wanted to resist in the first place.
“I heard you and Bonnie broke up,” Cecily ventured quietly as she poured the tea. Matt wondered if she really could read his thoughts.
His smile was laced with bitterness as he took the glass she offered him and joined her at the table. “That my dear, is old news. Where’ve you been?”
Cecily studied her iced tea. “I was kind of laying low,” she replied carefully, while avoiding meeting his gaze. “I mean, I’m not proud of what I did, Matt. I ruined your relationship.”
“You what?” Matt was shocked. “Cecily—“
“Well, it’s true isn’t it?” she rushed on. “I can’t believe I came on to you the way that I did! You were perfectly happy with Bonnie, and I—“
“Not true.”
Cecily stopped. “What?”
Matt cleared his throat. “Bonnie and I were not perfectly happy.” He sat back and rubbed his temples. *One constant headache* “Look,” he went on. “I’m not condoning what we did, but it’s not all your fault. In fact, it’s mine more than anyone’s. I’m the one who cheated on my girlfriend. But Cecily, Bonnie and I were having major problems. We hadn’t been really together for a long time.”
Cecily pushed her glass aside and took his hand in her own. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Her eyes were wet.
Feeling embarrassed, Matt looked down at the table. “For what?”
“For being you.”
He looked up quickly and beamed when he saw Cecily’s smile radiating back at him. “No problem.”
“You know Matt,” Cecily began sweetly. Her smile became devilish. “I can’t say that I’m sorry you and Bonnie aren’t together anymore. Now we don’t have to sneak around and feel guilty.”
Matt’s thoughts flashed back to Bonnie unconscious on the floor. *Right. . .no guilt here at all* “Um, I’m not sure—-Jesus Christ!“
Before he had even finished his sentence Cecily had pounced on him. Matt felt his pulse quicken as she pulled him to his feet and savagely caught his lips with hers. He gasped when she swept everything off the table and pushed him back onto it.
“I thought guys were supposed to do things like that,” he said breathlessly.
Cecily straddled him. “I’m a modern woman,” she replied before pulling her blouse over her head.
Vaguely, Matt noted that her bra was see-through. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He swallowed several times. “But,” he protested weakly, “you spilled your iced tea.”
Cecily’s smile was intoxicating. She gave him a sexy wink as she began to unbutton his pants. “That’s okay,” she said merrily. “I wasn’t going to drink it anyway.”
Matt found himself smiling back as she leaned in closer for another kiss. *Hell, who needs tea?*
* * * * *
Across town, same time
"Dad, I'm fine. Alaric and I are perfectly comfortable in the hotel."
Meredith sighed deeply as she listened to her father's protests over the phone. *Why Me?* she wondered.
She glanced over at Alaric who was smiling faintly at her. He'd warned her against calling her parents to tell them she was in town. "After all," he'd said, "we're not exactly here for a friendly visit."
*Why don't I ever listen to him?* she asked silently. She knew the answer. . .she was stubborn, and sometimes Alaric was too smart for his own good.
Meredith became aware that her father was silent. "I'm sorry Dad, what did you say?"
Mr. Sulez made an exasperated noise. "I said, I'm sure you're aware that your mother and I don't approve of you and Alaric living together and sharing hotel rooms. We'd really prefer it if you came to stay here."
Her face flaming, Meredith grew angry. "Dad! I'm twenty years-old, I'm an adult remember? Now, I've given you our number here in case you need to call. I'm going to go, because I don't want to be having this conversation anymore."
"Meredith, wait!" her father's voice sounded urgent.
"What?" she replied hotly.
"I'm sorry honey, I overreacted. Sometimes I just forget that you're not my little girl anymore."
Meredith smiled. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry I got upset too. I do have to go though Dad. Alaric and I will come by tomorrow, okay? Bye."
She replaced the handset and exhaled slowly.
"That painful?" Alaric asked quietly.
"Same old, same old. I'm too young. . .you're too old, yada yada yada." She looked up to see Alaric leafing through some well-worn notebooks. "What are you doing?"
He looked up at her briefly with a grim expression on his smooth face. "I'm looking through some of my old journals that I kept during Katherine and Klaus. I know it's grasping at straws, but we have no idea what we're up against this time. I'm willing to do anything."
"I don't even know where to begin," Meredith remarked. "Last time I checked, we'd run out of enemies."
"Not in good ol' Fell's Church," was Alaric's sarcastic reply.
Meredith started to join him on the bed, when the phone rang. Alaric looked up at her quizically. "Who could that be?"
"Probably Bonnie," the dark-haired girl said as she turned back to the phone. "Hello?"
"Meredith?"
*Something familiar. . .* Frowning, she replied, "Yes, this is Meredith." *I know this voice. . .*
The voice breathed deeply. "Meredith. . .it's Elena."
