Destiny Rising (17 page)

“Please stop it,” Elena said, horrified. “Don’t hurt him any more.”

Damon’s smile widened, and he looked away from Jimmy, turning his whole attention to Elena. Jimmy’s arms kept jerking back and forth, though, thrusting the pool cue into himself even without Damon’s focus on him. “I’ll only stop if you leave right now, princess,” Damon said.

Elena blinked away tears. She was stronger than he thought. She would prove it. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go. But Damon”—and here she dared to touch his arm again, a quick soft touch—“what you said when I came in is true. I
never
give up.” Something seemed to shift in Damon when Elena touched him, the slightest softening of the grim lines of his face, and Elena almost felt like she’d gotten through to him. But a second later he was as cold and distant as ever.

Elena wheeled quickly and walked away, head high. Behind her, she heard Damon speak sharply and Jimmy’s grunts of pain cease.

Had she imagined the momentary change in Damon’s expression?
Please, please let that have been real,
Elena pleaded silently. Surely there was something left in that angry stranger behind her, something of the Damon she loved. She couldn’t lose him. But as she felt a wrenching in her chest, she wondered if she already had.

Chapter 27

T
he late afternoon sky was deep blue and golden with sunlight, and Stefan was grateful for the shade of the trees.
What kind of vampire provokes a confrontation in the daylight?
he could imagine Damon asking wryly before answering the question himself:
a very stupid one, Stefan.

The sun was making him slightly weary like it always did, his consciousness of its light a constant low, dull throbbing like a headache, despite the ring that protected him. Klaus was older than Stefan, and stronger. The sun wouldn’t bother him as much.

But Stefan didn’t want to face Klaus in the darkness. The hair on the back of his neck prickled uneasily at the very idea: after so long as a vampire, now Stefan himself was afraid of a monster in the dark.

He stopped when he reached the clearing in the woods where they’d fought Klaus’s family. Blood was the best way to attract any vampire’s attention. Stefan let his canines lengthen, then, wincing, bit sharply into his own wrist.

“Klaus!” he shouted, turning in a semicircle, his arm extended so that the blood spattered the ground around him.
“Klaus!”

Stefan stopped and listened to the noises of the woods: the light crackle of an animal moving through the undergrowth, the creak of tree branches in the wind. A long way away, nearer to campus, he could hear a couple hiking through the woods, laughing. No sign of Klaus. Taking a deep breath, Stefan slumped back against a tree trunk, cradling his bleeding arm protectively to his chest. He thought of Elena’s warmth, of her gentle kiss. He had to save her.

From behind him came a deep, amused voice: “Hello, Salvatore.”

Stefan spun around, stumbling in alarm. How had he not heard the older vampire arrive?

Klaus’s threadbare raincoat was dirty, but he wore it as if it were a royal robe. Every time he saw Klaus, Stefan was struck by how tall he was, how clear and sharp his eyes were. Klaus smiled and closed the distance between them again, standing too close. He smelled nauseatingly of blood and smoke and something subtly rotting.

“You called me, Salvatore?” Klaus asked him. He laid a hand on Stefan’s shoulder companionably.

“I wanted to talk,” Stefan said, keeping himself from flinching under Klaus’s hand. “I have an offer for you.”

“Let me guess.” Klaus’s smile widened. “You think we should settle our differences like gentlemen?” He sounded delighted. His fingers tightened on Stefan’s shoulder like a vise, and Stefan’s knees buckled. Klaus was so strong, even stronger than Stefan had remembered. “While I appreciate the blood you and your brother gave to bring me back, I hold all the cards in this game, Salvatore. I don’t need to play by your rules.”

“Not all the cards. You can’t kill Elena,” Stefan blurted, and Klaus cocked his head to one side, considering.

“Are you going to tell me how?” he asked. “Tired of your lady fair already? I did wonder why she’s still human after all this time. You’re leaving an out from eternal love, aren’t you? Clever.”

“I mean, she can’t be killed,” Stefan said doggedly. He lifted his head proudly, trying to project confidence. Klaus had to believe him. “Kill me instead. I’m the one you hate most.”

Klaus laughed, his sharp canines showing. “Oh, not clever after all,” he said. “Noble and dreary instead. So Elena’s the one with the out, then. She’d rather grow old and die than live forever in your arms? Your great romance must not be as strong as you thought.”

“I was the one you blamed for Katherine’s death,” Stefan went on steadily. “I tried to kill you back in Fell’s Church. You can do anything you want with me: kill me, have me join your army of followers. I won’t fight you. Just leave Elena alone. You won’t be able to kill her, so just let her go.”

Klaus chuckled again. Suddenly, he yanked Stefan closely against him and sniffed deeply, pressing his nose against the other vampire’s throat. His own scent was overwhelming, the sweet, rotting stench turning Stefan’s stomach. Just as quickly, Klaus shoved Stefan away again. “You stink of lies and fear,” he said. “Elena can be killed, and I’ll be the one to do it. You know it, and that’s why you’re afraid.”

Stefan made himself look Klaus squarely in the eyes. “No. She’s untouchable,” he stated as firmly as he could. “Kill me instead.”

Klaus struck him almost languidly with one hand and Stefan felt himself flying through the air. With a loud crack, he slammed into a tree and slid to the ground, gasping for breath.

“Oh, Salvatore,” Klaus said chidingly, towering above Stefan. “I do hate you. But I don’t want to kill you, not anymore.”

From where he lay on the ground, Stefan managed to raise his head and grunt inquiringly.
What, then?

“Better to kill Elena and let you live, I think,” the older vampire said, his white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. “I’ll kill her right in front of you, and make sure the image of her death haunts you forever, anywhere you go.” His smile widened. “That’ll be your fate.”

Klaus turned deliberately and sauntered out of the clearing, purposely not using his vampiric speed. Just before passing out of Stefan’s sight, he looked back and gave a little two-fingered salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said. “You and your lady love.”

Stefan let his head flop back down onto the forest floor. His spine was still cracked from where Klaus had thrown him into the tree. He had failed. Klaus was convinced that there was some way to kill Elena, and he wasn’t going to give up until he found it.

As soon as he could, Stefan would return to Elena and the others, give them their best chance of fighting Klaus. But a cold, dark misery was blossoming inside him and, just for the moment, Stefan let himself sink into that darkness.

Chapter 28

B
onnie was padding across campus in bare feet, her ice-cream-cone pajama bottoms flapping around her ankles.
Oh, great,
she thought dismally.
I forgot to get dressed again.

“Are you ready for the test?” Meredith said brightly next to her. Bonnie stopped and stared at her suspiciously.

“What test?” she asked. “We don’t have any classes together, do we?”

“Oh,
Bonnie
,” Meredith said, sighing. “Don’t you even read your email? There was some kind of mix-up, it turns out, and we all have to pass a big high-school Spanish exam we missed, or we won’t really have graduated.”

Bonnie stared at her, frozen in horror. “But I took French,” she said.

“Well, yeah,” Meredith said. “That’s why you should have been studying all this time. Come on, we’re going to be late.” She broke into a swift-footed run, and Bonnie stumbled after her, tripping over the laces of her Converse high-tops.

Wait a second,
she thought.
Wasn’t I barefoot a minute ago?

“Hang on, Meredith,” she said, drawing to a halt to catch her breath. “I think this is a dream.” Meredith ran on, though, straight and sure down the path, her long, dark hair flying out in the wind as she left Bonnie behind.

Definitely a dream,
Bonnie thought.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve had this dream before.
“I hate this dream,” she muttered.

She tried to remember the conscious-dreaming techniques she’d been talking about with Alaric.
This is a dream,
she told herself fiercely.
Nothing is real and I can change whatever I want.
Glancing down at herself, she made her sneakers tie themselves and changed her pajamas into skinny blue jeans and a black top. “Better,” she said. “Okay, forget the exam. I think I want . . .” Possibilities were flying through her mind, but then she forgot them all, because suddenly in front of her was Zander. Wonderful, darling Zander, who she missed with all her heart. And Shay.

“I hate my subconscious so much,” Bonnie mumbled to herself.

Zander was gazing down at Shay with a small smile, giving her that adoring look that was supposed to be reserved for Bonnie alone. As Bonnie watched, he ran his hand gently over Shay’s cheek, tipping her face toward him.
Change it!
Bonnie inwardly screamed at herself as Shay’s and Zander’s lips met in a soft, lingering kiss.

Before she could focus, though, everything went black for one second, and she felt a powerful, painful
yank
as she was torn from the dream. When her eyes opened, she was somewhere new, a breeze ruffling her curls. And watching her, standing alarmingly close, his face alight with laughter, was Klaus.

“Hello, little redbird,” he said. “Isn’t that what Damon used to call you?”

“How do you know that?” Bonnie said suspiciously. “And where am I, anyway?” The wind rose, blowing strands of hair across her face, and she shoved them back.

“I’ve been having a good rummage around in your mind, redbird,” Klaus said. “I can’t get to everything yet, but I can pick up bits and pieces.” He smiled widely and engagingly. He’d be quite handsome, really, Bonnie thought wildly, if he weren’t so obviously insane. Klaus went on. “That’s why I picked this place to have our chat.”

Bonnie’s head cleared a little, and she looked around. They were outdoors, on a tiny platform sheltered by an arched cupola. In every direction, a blue expanse spread out, and far below, a touch of green. Oh, jeez. They were somewhere really high.

Bonnie
hated
heights. Forcing herself to look away from the long drop on every side, she stayed still, in the middle of the platform, as far as possible from the sides, and glared up at Klaus. “Oh, yeah?” she said. It wasn’t the best line, but it was the best she could manage under the circumstances.

Klaus smiled cheerfully. “One of the pieces I came across was your memory of the orientation tour of campus. They offered to take you up in the bell tower, didn’t they? But
you
said”—and suddenly an eerie echo of Bonnie’s voice rose up all around them, joking, but with a touch of actual fear
—“‘No way, Jose, if I go up that high I’ll have screaming nightmares for a week!’”
As the memory of Bonnie’s voice died away, Klaus grinned. “And so I thought this might be a good place for our heart-to-heart.”

Bonnie remembered the incident on the tour vividly. The bell tower, the highest spot on campus, was a popular place, but Bonnie couldn’t look at it without her stomach clenching up. Zander and his friends liked to party on the rooftops of buildings, but rooftops tended to be a lot bigger than the bell tower, and there Bonnie could stay away from the edges. Plus, at those parties, she’d had big, reassuring, protective Zander with her, which made all the difference.

Still, she wasn’t going to let Klaus see he was getting to her. Crossing her arms defiantly, she carefully looked only at Klaus. “I was kidding on the tour,” she lied. “I just didn’t want to climb all those stairs.”

“Interesting,” Klaus said, his smile widening, and then he raised his hands. He didn’t touch Bonnie, but she found herself suddenly skidding back away from him, as if he was pushing her very hard. Her back collided at last with the railing at the edge of the platform, and she let out a helpless little
whoof
of air.

“Don’t lie to me, redbird,” Klaus said softly, walking toward her. “I can smell your fear.”

Bonnie clenched her teeth and said nothing. She did not look behind her.

“Tell me Elena’s secret, little bird,” Klaus said, his voice still soft and coaxing. “You’re her witch, so you must know. Why couldn’t I kill her in the battle? Did you do something?”

“No idea. Maybe your knife was dull,” Bonnie quipped.

She squeaked involuntarily as her feet suddenly left the ground. She was—oh, God—dangling in midair like a puppet suspended by invisible strings. Then those strings yanked her backward, her ankles banging painfully against the top of the railing as she was swept powerlessly out to hang in empty space. Bonnie caught one terrifying glimpse of the campus far below her before she slammed her eyes shut.
Don’t let me fall,
she prayed.
Please, please.
Her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“You know, they say that if you die in your dreams, you really die in your bed,” Klaus said softly, sounding like he was right next to her. “And I can tell you from personal experience that the saying’s quite true.” He let out a low, sickeningly excited laugh. “If I drop you, they’ll be picking pieces of you out of your bedroom walls for weeks,” he said. “But it doesn’t have to come to that. Just tell me the truth and I’ll let you down gently. I promise.”

Bonnie clenched her eyes and her jaw shut tighter. Even if she were willing to betray Elena—which she
wasn’t
, she never would, no matter what, she told herself firmly—she didn’t believe Klaus would keep his promise. She remembered dazedly how Vickie Bennett had died, though, at Klaus’s hands. She’d been torn to shreds, her blood spattered like a kid had swung around a can of red paint in her pink room. Maybe Klaus had killed Vickie in her dreams.

Klaus chuckled, and the air around Bonnie shifted again.

“What’s going on?” a confused, frightened, and oh-so-familiar voice asked. Bonnie’s eyes snapped open.

Next to her in midair dangled Zander. All the color was bleached out of his face, so that his wide, terrified eyes looked even more impossibly blue than usual. He was grasping at empty air with both hands, struggling to find something to hold on to.

“Bonnie?” he croaked. “Please, what’s going on?”

“Your girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, is refusing to tell me something I want to know,” Klaus told him. Klaus was seated on the railing of the bell tower, his own legs dangling off the side. He smiled at Zander. “I thought if I brought you in, you might provide some incentive for her.”

Zander looked at Bonnie pleadingly. “Please tell him, Bonnie,” he begged. “I need this to stop. Let me down.”

Bonnie gulped, panicking. “Zander,” she said. “Zander, oh, no. Don’t hurt him.”

“Whatever happens to Zander now is your fault, redbird,” Klaus reminded her.

And then something clicked together.
Hang on,
a voice said inside Bonnie’s head. The voice, cool and cynical, sounded sort of like Meredith.
Zander’s not scared of heights. He loves them.

“Stop it,” she said to Klaus. “That’s not Zander. That’s just something you made up. If you’re finding stuff inside my head, you’re doing a terrible job. Zander’s
nothing
like that.”

Klaus gave a sharp growl of irritation, and the Zander he’d created went limp in the air beside her, his head flopping to one side. He looked disturbingly dead like that, and even though Bonnie knew it wasn’t real, she had to look away.

She’d known all along this was a dream, of course. But she’d forgotten the central thing about controlling dreams:
they weren’t real
.

“This is a dream,” she murmured to herself. “Nothing is real and I can change whatever I want.” She looked at the false Zander and blipped him back out of existence.

“Clever, aren’t you?” Klaus commented, and then, as easily as opening his hand, he let her fall.

Bonnie sucked in one frightened breath, and then remembered to make a floor under her feet. She stumbled as she landed, her ankle turning under her, but she wasn’t hurt.

“It’s not over yet, redbird,” Klaus said, climbing down from the railing and walking toward her across the air as if it were solid, his dirty raincoat flapping in the breeze. He was still chuckling, and there was something about the sound that frightened Bonnie. Without even thinking about it, she flexed her mind and
threw
him as far as she could.

Klaus’s body flew backward, as floppy as a rag doll, and Bonnie had just a second to see his startled expression turn to rage before he was only a falling black speck on the horizon. As Bonnie watched, the speck stopped falling, turned, and rose, coming back toward her. It moved alarmingly fast, and soon she could make out the outline of some great predatory bird, a hawk perhaps, swooping toward her.

Time to wake up,
she thought. “It’s just a dream,” she said. Nothing happened. Klaus was getting closer, much closer.

“It’s only a dream,” she repeated, “and I can wake up anytime I want. I want to wake up
now.
”

And then she really did wake, warm under her comforter in her own cozy bed.

After one gasp of pure relief, Bonnie began to cry—great, ugly, choking sobs. She reached onto her desk, feeling for her cell phone. The images of Zander, his face intent, kissing Shay, hanging powerlessly in the air, stuck with her. They hadn’t been the real Zander; Bonnie knew that intellectually. But she needed to hear his voice anyway. Just as she was about to push the button to dial, she hesitated.

It wasn’t fair to call him, was it? She was the one who had said they should take some time apart, so Zander could think about what would be right for him, not just as a person, but as the Alpha of a Pack. It wouldn’t be fair to call him to make herself feel better, just because Klaus had used his image in Bonnie’s dream.

She turned the phone off and shoved it back onto the desk, sobbing harder.

“Bonnie?” The bed dipped as Meredith crossed the space from her own bed and sat on the edge of Bonnie’s. “Are you okay?”

In the morning, Bonnie would tell Meredith and the others everything. It was important that they know that Klaus had gotten into her dreams again, and that the techniques Alaric had researched had let Bonnie fight him off this time. But she couldn’t talk about it right now, not in the dark.

“Bad dream,” she said instead. “Stay here for a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” Meredith said, and Bonnie felt her friend’s thin, strong arm wrap around her shoulders. “It’ll be all right, Bonnie,” Meredith said, patting her on the back.

“I don’t think so,” Bonnie said, and buried her head on Meredith’s shoulder and wept.