Moonsong (23 page)

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Authors: L. J. Smith

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #David_James, #Mobilism.org

BOOK: Moonsong
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Zander sucked in a long breath, his eyes wide, and sat stil and silent for a few seconds. Then he reached out and put a gentle hand under Bonnie’s chin, turning her face so they were gazing straight into each other’s eyes.

“I would never hurt you, Bonnie,” he said slowly. “You know me, you see me. Do you think I’m a kil er?”

“No,” Bonnie said, her eyes fil ing with tears. “I don’t. I never did.”

Zander leaned forward and kissed her, his lips soft against hers, as if they were sealing some kind of pact.

Bonnie closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss.

She was fal ing in love with Zander, she knew. And, despite the fact that he had run off so suddenly last night, just before Samantha’s murder, she was sure he could never be a kil er.

30

“Cappuccino and a croissant?” the waitress said, and, at Elena’s nod, set them down on the table. Elena pushed her notebooks aside to make room. Midterms were coming up, on top of everything else that was happening. Elena had tried studying in her room but was too distracted by the sight of Bonnie’s empty bed. She and Meredith were al wrong without Bonnie.

She hadn’t gotten much done here at the café, either, despite getting one of the prime big outdoor tables that she could spread her books out on. She’d tried, but her mind kept circling back to Samantha’s death.

Samantha was such a nice girl, Elena thought. Elena remembered how her eyes lit up when she laughed and the way she bounced on the bal s of her feet as if she was bursting to move, run, dance, too ful of energy to sit stil .

Meredith didn’t make new friends that easily, but the wary coolness she usual y wore with strangers had relaxed around Samantha.

When Elena had left the dorm, Meredith was on the phone with Alaric. Maybe he would know what to say, how to comfort her. Unwil ing to break into their conversation, Elena left her a note indicating where she would be if Meredith needed her.

Stirring her coffee, Elena looked up to see Meredith coming toward her. The tal er girl sat down across from Elena and fixed her with her serious gray eyes. “Alaric says Dalcrest is a hot spot for paranormal activity,” she said.

“Black magic, vampires, werewolves, the whole package.” Elena nodded and added more sugar to her cup. “Just as Professor Campbel hinted,” she said thoughtful y. “I get the feeling he knows more than he’s saying.”

“You need to push him,” Meredith said tightly. “If he liked your parents so much, he’l feel like he has to tel you the truth. We don’t have time to waste.” She reached out and broke off a piece of Elena’s croissant. “Can I have this? I haven’t had anything to eat today, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.”

Looking at the strained lines on Meredith’s face, the dark shadows under her eyes, Elena felt a sharp stab of sympathy. “Of course,” she said, pushing the plate toward her. “I just cal ed Damon to come meet me.” She watched as Meredith decimated the croissant, stirring stil more sugar into her coffee. Elena felt in need of comfort.

It wasn’t long before they saw Damon sauntering down the street toward them, his hair sleek and perfect, his al -

black clothes casual y elegant, sunglasses on. Heads turned as he walked by, and Elena distinctly saw one girl miss her footing and fal off the curb.

“That was fast,” Elena said, as Damon pul ed out a chair and sat down.

“I’m fast,” Damon answered, “and you said it was important.”

“It is,” Elena said. “Our friend Samantha is dead.” Damon jerked his head in acknowledgment. “I know.

The police are al over campus. As if they’l be able to do anything.”

“What do you mean?” asked Meredith, glaring at him.

“Wel , these kil ings don’t exactly fal under the police’s agency, do they?” Damon reached out and plucked Elena’s coffee cup from her hand. He took a sip, then made a smal moue of distaste. “Darling, this is far too sweet.” Meredith’s hands were bal ing into fists, and Elena thought she had better speed things up. “Damon, if you know something about this, please tel us.” Damon handed her back her cappuccino and signaled the waitress to bring him one of his own. “To tel you the truth, darling, I don’t know much about Samantha’s death, or that of Mutt’s roommate, whatever his name was. I couldn’t get close enough to the bodies to have any real information. But I’ve found definite evidence that there are other vampires on campus. Sloppy ones.” His face twisted into the same expression he’d made after tasting Elena’s coffee. “Probably newly made, I’d guess. No technique at al .”

“What kind of evidence?” Meredith asked.

Damon looked surprised. “Bodies of course. Very poorly disposed of bodies. Shal ow graves, bonfires, that kind of thing.”

Elena frowned. “So the people who have disappeared were kil ed by vampires?”

Damon wagged a finger at her teasingly. “I didn’t say that. The bodies I examined—and let me tel you, digging up a shal ow grave was real y a first for me—were not the same ones that vanished from campus. I don’t know if your missing students were kil ed by vampires or not, but somebody else was. Several somebodies. I’ve been trying to find these vampires, but I haven’t had any luck. Yet.” Meredith, who normal y would have jumped on Damon’s comment about this being his first time digging up a grave, looked thoughtful. “I saw Samantha’s body,” she said hesitantly. “It didn’t look like a typical vampire attack to me.

And from the way Matt described Christopher’s body, I don’t think his did, either. They were”—she took a deep breath—“mauled. Torn apart.”

“It could be a pack of real y angry vampires, or messy ones,” Damon said. “Or werewolves might be vicious like that. It’s more their style.” The waitress appeared with his cappuccino, and he thanked her graciously. She retreated, blushing.

“There’s another thing,” Elena said once the waitress was out of hearing range. She glanced inquiringly at Meredith, who nodded at her. “We’re worried about Bonnie and her new boyfriend.” Quickly, she outlined the reasons they had for being suspicious of Zander and Bonnie’s reaction to their concerns.

Damon raised one eyebrow as he finished his drink.

“So you think the little redbird’s suitor might be dangerous?” He smiled. “I’l look into it, princess. Don’t worry.”

Dropping a few dol ars on the table, he rose and sauntered across the street, disappearing into a grove of maples. A few minutes later, a large black crow with shining iridescent feathers rose above the trees, flapping its wings powerful y. It gave a raucous caw and flew away.

“That was surprisingly helpful of him,” Meredith said. Her face was stil tired and drawn, but her voice was interested.

Elena didn’t have to look up to know that her friend was watching her speculatively. Eyes demurely downward, feeling her cheeks flush pink, she took another sip of her cappuccino. Damon was right. It was much too sweet.

31

Why do they always want to be on top of buildings?

Bonnie thought irritably. Inside. Inside is nice. No one falls to their death if they’re inside a building. But here we are.

Stargazing from the top of the science building while on a date with Zander was romantic. Bonnie would be al for another little nighttime picnic, just the two of them. But partying on a different roof with a bunch of Zander’s friends was not romantic, not even slightly.

She took a sip of her drink and moved out of the way without even looking as she heard the smack of bodies hitting the ground and the grunts of guys wrestling. After two days of living with Zander, she was beginning to get the names of his friends straight: Tristan and Marcus were the ones rol ing around on the floor with Zander. Jonah, Camden, and Spencer were doing something they cal ed parkour, which mostly seemed to involve running around like idiots and almost fal ing off the roof. Enrique, Jared, Daniel, and Chad were al playing an elaborate drinking game in the corner. There were a few more guys who hung around sometimes, but this was the core group.

She liked them, she real y did. Most of the time. They were boisterous, sure, but they were always very nice to her: getting her drinks, immediately handing her their jackets if she was cold, tel ing her that they had no idea what she saw in a loser like Zander, which was clearly their guy way of declaring how much they loved him and that they were happy he had a girlfriend.

She looked over at Zander, who was laughing as he held Tristan in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles over the top of Tristan’s head. “Do you give in?” he said, and grunted in surprise as Marcus, whooping joyful y, tackled them both.

It would have been easier if there were other girls around that she could get to know. If Marcus (who was very cute in a giant shaggy-haired Sasquatch kind of way) or Spencer (who had the kind of preppy rich-boy elegance that some girls found extremely attractive) had a regular girlfriend, Bonnie would have someone to exchange wry glances with as the guys acted like doofuses.

But, even though a girl would occasional y appear clinging to the arm of one of the guys, Bonnie would never see her again after that night. Except for Bonnie, Zander seemed to travel in an almost exclusively masculine world.

And, after two days of fol owing the macho parade around town, Bonnie was starting to get sick of it. She missed having girls to talk to. She missed Elena and Meredith, specifical y, even though she was stil mad at them.

“Hey,” she said, making her way over to Zander. “Want to get out of here for a while?”

Zander wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Um.

Why?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her neck.

Bonnie rol ed her eyes. “It’s kind of loud, don’t you think?

We could go for a nice quiet walk or something.” Zander looked surprised but nodded. “Sure, whatever you want.”

They made their way down the fire escape, fol owed by a few shouts from Zander’s friends, who seemed to think he was going on a food run and would shortly return with hot wings and tacos.

Once they were a block away from the rooftop party, the noise faded and it was peaceful, except for the distant sound of an occasional car on the roads nearby. Bonnie knew she ought to feel creeped out, walking around at night on campus, but she didn’t. Not with Zander’s hand in hers.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Bonnie said happily, gazing up at the half moon overhead.

“Yeah,” Zander said, swinging her hand between them.

“You know, I used to go on long walks—runs, real y—with my dad at night. Way out in the country, in the moonlight. I love being outside at night.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Bonnie said. “Do you guys stil do that when you’re home?”

“No.” Zander hesitated and hunched his shoulders, his hair hanging in his face. Bonnie couldn’t read his expression. “My dad … he died. A while ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bonnie said sincerely, squeezing his hand.

“I’m okay,” Zander said, stil staring at his shoes. “But, y’know, I don’t have any brothers or sisters, and the guys have sort of become like a family to me. I know they can be a pain sometimes, but they’re real y good guys. And they’re important to me.” He glanced at Bonnie out of the corner of his eyes.

He looked so apprehensive, Bonnie felt a sharp pang of affection for him. It was sweet that Zander and his friends were so close—that must have been the family stuff he had to deal with the other night. He was loyal, that much she knew. “Zander,” she said. “I know they’re important to you. I don’t want to take you away from your friends, you goof.” She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Maybe just for an hour or two sometimes, but not for long, I promise.” Zander returned the kiss with enthusiasm, and Bonnie tingled al the way down to her toes.

Clinging to each other, they made their way to a bench by the side of the path and sat down to kiss some more.

Zander just felt so good under her hands, al sleek muscles and smooth skin, and Bonnie ran her hands across his shoulders, along his arms, down his sides.

At her touch, Zander suddenly winced.

“What’s the matter?” she said, lifting her head away from his.

“Nothing,” said Zander, reaching for her. “I was just messing around with the guys, you know. They play rough.”

“Let me see,” Bonnie said, grabbing at the hem of his shirt, half concerned and half wanting to just check out Zander’s abs. He had turned out to be surprisingly modest, considering they were sharing a room.

Wincing again, he sucked his breath in through his teeth as Bonnie lifted his shirt. She gasped. Zander’s whole side was covered with ugly black-and-purple bruises.

“Zander,” Bonnie said horrified, “these look real y bad.

You don’t get bruises like that just messing around.” They look like you were fighting for your life—or someone else was, she thought, and pushed away the words.

“They’re nothing. Don’t worry,” Zander said, tugging his shirt back down. He started to wrap his arms around her again, but Bonnie moved away, feeling vaguely sickened.

“I wish you’d tel me what happened,” she said.

“I did,” Zander said comfortingly. “You know how crazy those guys get.”

It was true, she’d never known guys so rowdy. Zander reached for her again, and this time Bonnie moved closer to him, turning her face up for his kiss. As their lips met, she remembered Zander’s saying to her, “You know me. You see me.”

She did know him, Bonnie told herself. She could trust Zander.

Across the street, Damon stood in the shadow of a tree, watching Bonnie kiss Zander.

He had to admit he felt a little pang, seeing her in the arms of someone else. There was something so sweet about Bonnie, and she was brave and intel igent under that cotton-candy exterior. The witchy angle added a little touch of spice to her, too. He’d always thought of her as his.

Then again, didn’t the little redbird deserve someone of her own? As much as Damon liked her, he didn’t love her, he knew that. Seeing the lanky boy’s face light up in response to her smile, he thought maybe this one would.

After making out for a few more minutes, Bonnie and Zander stood up and wandered, hand in hand, toward what Damon knew was Zander’s dorm. Damon trailed them, keeping to the shadows.

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