Origins (9 page)

“It’s probably right under your nose,” Cordelia said.

“What?” asked Honoria sharply, as if she’d been insulted.

“It grows everywhere. Except our garden,” Cordelia said darkly.

“Well,” Father said, glancing at the two women, anxious to diffuse the situation. “After this meeting, Cordelia may escort Miss Honoria to her garden to find vervain.”

“Now, wait just a damn minute,” Mayor Lockwood said, pounding his beefy fist on the table. “You lost me at the woman talk. You mean to tell me that if I wear a lilac sprig, then the demons will leave me alone?” He snorted.

“Vervain, not lilac,” Cordelia explained. “It keeps evil away.”

“Yes,” Father said sagely. “And everyone in town must wear it. See to it, Mayor Lockwood. That way, not only will our citizens be protected, but anyone who does
not
wear it will be exposed as a vampire and can then be burned,” Father said, his voice so smooth and matter-of-fact that it took every ounce of self-control for me not to stand up, rush down the shaky ladder, find Katherine, and run away with her.

But if I did that, and if Katherine was as dangerous as the Founders thought … I felt like a trapped animal, unable to find any escape. Was I trapped with the enemy right now, or was the enemy back at Veritas? I knew that, beneath my shirt collar, the wound on my neck was beginning to ooze specks of blood, and it would only be a matter of time before they soaked through the fabric and stood out as a visible reminder of my betrayal.

Mayor Lockwood shifted uneasily, causing the chair to creak. I jumped. “Now, if the herb works, that’s one thing. But we’re in the middle of a war. We’ve got a lot of Confederate government officials passing through Mystic Falls on their way to Richmond, and if word gets out that instead of aiding the cause we’re fighting storybook creatures with flowers …” He shook his head. “We cannot issue an edict that everyone wear vervain.”

“Oh, really? Then how do we know
you’re
not a vampire?” Father demanded.

“Father!” I interjected. Someone had to bring a voice of reason into the discussion. “Mayor Lockwood is right. We need to think calmly. Rationally.”

“Your son has a good head on his shoulders,” Mayor Lockwood said grudgingly.

“A better head than yours,” Father mumbled.

“Well … we can discuss vervain later. Honoria, you’ll be in charge of making sure that we have a ready supply, and we can strongly encourage those we love to wear it. But for now, I want to discuss
other
ways we can find the vampires that walk among us,” Jonathan Gilbert said excitedly, unfolding large sheets of paper onto the table. Mayor Lockwood put his bifocals on his nose and peered at the papers, which had complicated mechanical drawings on them.

“This here looks like a compass,” Mayor Lockwood said finally, pointing to a complicated drawing.

“It is! But instead of finding north, it finds vampires,” Jonathan said, barely containing his excitement. “I’m working on the prototype. It just needs a bit more fine-tuning. It’s able to detect blood. The blood of others,” he said meaningfully.

“Can I see that, Mr. Jonathan?” Cordelia asked.

Jonathan looked up, surprised, but handed her the papers. She shook her head.

“No,” she said. “The prototype.”

“Oh, ah, well, it’s
very rough,”
Jonathan said as he fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out a shiny metal object that looked more like a child’s trinket than a tool for finding victims.

Cordelia turned the compass slowly in her hands. “It works?”

“Well …”—Jonathan shrugged—“it
will
work.”

“Here’s what I propose,” Father said, leaning back on his chair. “We arm ourselves with vervain. We work day and night to get the compass to work. And we make a plan. We set up a siege, and by month’s end our town will be clear.” Father crossed his arms in satisfaction. One by one, every member of the group, including Cordelia, nodded their heads.

I shifted on the wooden chair, holding my hand against my neck. The attic was hot and sticky, and flies were buzzing in the rafters, as if it were the middle of July rather than the middle of September. I desperately needed a glass of water, and I felt like the room was going to collapse in on me. I needed to see Katherine again, to remind myself that she
wasn’t
a monster. My breathing became shallow, and I felt that if I stayed here, I
would
say something I didn’t mean.

“I think I’m feeling faint,” I heard myself say, even though the words rang false even to my ears. Father looked at me sharply. I could tell he didn’t believe me, but Honoria clucked out sympathetic noises.

Father cleared his throat. “I’ll see my boy out,” he announced to the room before following me down the rickety ladder.

“Stefan,” Father said, grabbing my shoulder just as I opened the door that would lead back to a world I understood.

“What?” I gasped.

“Remember. Not a word of this to anyone. Even Damon. Not until he comes to his senses. Except I think his senses may be taken with our Katherine,” Father muttered, half to himself as he let go of my arm. I stiffened at the mention of Katherine’s name, but when I turned around, Father’s back was toward me as he headed into the house.

I walked back through town, wishing I’d ridden Mezzanotte instead of coming in the carriage. Now I had no choice but to walk home. I turned to my left, deciding to cut through the forest. I simply couldn’t interact with any more humans today.

T
hat night, Damon invited me to play cards with some of his soldier friends, who were camped out for the moment in Leestown, twenty miles away.

“I may not agree with them, but damn, can they play a good hand and drink a good pint,” Damon said.

I’d found myself agreeing, eager to avoid Father and any questions about vampires. But by the time twilight rolled around and I hadn’t seen any sign of Katherine or Emily, I wished that I hadn’t agreed to accompany Damon. My mind was still jumbled, and I wanted a night with Katherine to reassure me that my desire was leading me in the right direction. I loved her, but the practical, sensible side of me was having trouble disobeying Father.

“Ready?” Damon asked, clad in his Confederate uniform, when he stopped by my bedroom at twilight.

I nodded. It was too late to say no.

“Good.” He grinned and clattered down the stairs. I glanced wistfully out the window toward the carriage house, then followed him.

“We’re going out to the camp,” Damon yelled as we passed by Father’s study.

“Wait!” Father emerged from the study into the living room, several long branches filled with tiny, lilac-like purple flowers in his arms. Vervain. “Wear this,” he commanded, tucking a sprig into each of our breast pockets.

“You shouldn’t have, Father,” Damon said tersely, as he plucked the sprig out of his pocket and shoved it into his breeches pocket.

“I’ve given you latitude, son, and given you a roof. Now all I ask is that you do this,” Father said, slamming his meaty fist into his palm so hard, I saw him wince. Thankfully, Damon, usually so quick to pounce at any sign of weakness, didn’t notice.

“Fine, Father.” Damon shrugged easily and spread his arms as if in defeat. “I would be
honored
to wear your flower for you.”

Father’s eyes flickered with rage, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply broke off another sprig and tucked it into Damon’s coat pocket.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I accepted my own branch. My statement of thanks was less for the flower and more for Father showing mercy on Damon.

“Be careful, boys,” Father said, before retreating to his study.

Damon rolled his eyes as we walked outside.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” I mumbled, shivering in the night air. The summer-like day had become a chilly fall evening, but the mist that had been everywhere last night had lifted, giving us a crystal-clear view of the moon.

“Why not? He’s hard on us.” Damon snorted as he led the way to the stable. Mezzanotte and Jake were already bridled and stamping their hooves impatiently. “I had Alfred get everything ready. Thought we’d need a quick getaway.”

Damon swung his leg over Jake’s back, then galloped him down the path and turned in the direction opposite of town. We rode in silence for at least a half hour. With just the sound of the hooves and the sight of the moon peeking through the dense foliage, it felt like we were riding into a dream.

Finally, we began to hear sounds of flutes playing and laughter and the occasional gunshot. Damon directed us up over a hill toward a clearing. Tents were set up all over, and a piper played in the corner. Men were walking around, and dogs were stationed at the entrance. It was as if we’d arrived at a mysterious, hidden party.

“Hello, sir?” Two Confederate soldiers came up to us, their rifles pointed toward us. Mezzanotte took a few steps back and whinnied nervously.

“Soldier Damon Salvatore, sir! Here on leave from General Groom’s camp down in Atlanta.”

Immediately, the two soldiers relaxed their rifles and tipped their hats at us.

“Sorry ’bout that, soldier. We’re gearin’ up for battle, and we’re losing our men like flies, before they even hit the battlefield,” the taller soldier said, stepping up to pat Jake.

“Yes, and not because of typhus,” the other, smaller, mustachioed soldier said, obviously pleased to share this information with us.

“Killings?” Damon asked tersely.

“How’d you know?” the first guard asked, stroking his rifle. I glanced at the ground, unsure what to do. I felt that Damon was getting us into a dangerous situation, but I didn’t know what I could do to fix it.

“My brother and I are coming from Mystic Falls,” Damon said, jerking his thumb back as if to prove that was the direction we came from. “The next town over, past the forest. We’ve had some of our own trouble. People are saying it’s some type of animal.”

“Not unless it’s an animal that only goes for the throat and leaves the rest of the body untouched,” the mustachioed soldier said knowledgeably, his tiny eyes flicking back and forth between us.

“Hmm,” Damon said, sounding suddenly uninterested. But then he changed the subject. “Any good games of poker going on tonight?”

“Right there in that clearing by the oak trees.” The small soldier pointed a little ways off into the distance.

“Have a good evening, then. I thank you for your help,” Damon said with exaggerated politeness. We walked in the direction the soldier pointed, until Damon stopped abruptly at a small circle of soldiers, huddled around a fire and playing cards.

“Hello! Soldier Damon Salvatore on leave from General Groom’s boys,” Damon said confidently as he slid off his horse and glanced around the faces lit up by the campfire. “This is my brother, Stefan. Can we be dealt in?”

One ginger-haired soldier glanced at an older, grand-fatherly type whose arm was in a sling. He shrugged and gestured for us to sit on one of the logs set up around the fire. “Don’t see why not.”

Adrenaline seeped through my veins as we settled down and took our hands. Mine was good: two aces and a king. I immediately threw in some rumpled notes from my pocket, making a bet with myself. If I won money, then everything would be fine with Katherine. And if I didn’t, then … well, I didn’t want to think about it.

“All in,” I said confidently.

After we settled the game, I wasn’t surprised to emerge as the victor. I smiled as I took the pile of money and carefully put it in my pocket. I grinned in relief, finally feeling sure in my love for Katherine. I imagined what Katherine would say.
Smart
Stefan, maybe.
Savvy
Stefan. Or maybe she’d simply laugh, showing her white teeth, and allow me to take her into my arms and twirl her around and around the room….

We played several more hands after that, during which I lost the money I had won, but I didn’t care. The first hand had been the test, and now my heart and mind felt remarkably light.

“What are you thinking?” Damon asked, taking a flask from his pocket. He held it toward me, and I took a long swig.

The whiskey burned going down my throat, but I still craved more. It didn’t seem that any of the other soldiers were up for another hand. The five we were playing with had drifted off to chew tobacco, drink more whiskey, or tearfully talk about their sweethearts back home.

“Come on, brother, you can tell me,” Damon encouraged. He took the flask, swigged from it, then passed it back toward me.

I took another, deeper drink and paused. Should I tell him? Any hesitation I had earlier had disappeared. After all, he was
my brother.
“Well, I was thinking about how different Katherine is than any other girl I’ve met …,” I began evasively. I knew I was treading into dangerous territory, but part of me was dying to know whether Damon also knew Katherine’s secret. I took another sip of whiskey and coughed.

“How’s she different?” Damon asked, a smile curving on his lips.

“Well, I mean she’s not,” I said, sobering up as I frantically tried to backtrack. “I just meant that I noticed that she is—”

“That she’s a vampire?” Damon interrupted.

My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked. I glanced around nervously. People were drinking, laughing, counting their winnings.

But Damon was simply sitting there, the same smile on his lips. I couldn’t understand how he was
smiling
. And then a new, darker thought appeared in my mind. How did Damon know that Katherine was who she was? Had she told him? And had it been the same way, in the misty predawn, in bed? I shuddered.

“So she’s a vampire. What of it? She’s still Katherine.” Damon turned to look at me, urgency in his dark-brown eyes. “And you won’t say anything to Father. He’s half crazy as it is,” Damon said as he scuffed his boot against the ground.

“How did you find out?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

Suddenly, a shot was fired.

“Soldier down!” a uniformed boy who looked to be about fourteen yelled as he charged from tent to tent. “Soldier down! Attack! Out into the woods!”

Damon’s face paled. “I need to help. You, little brother, go home.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling torn and suddenly frightened.

Damon nodded tersely. “If Father asks, I drank too much at the saloon and am sleeping it off somewhere.”

Another shot was fired, and Damon took off into the woods, blending into the sea of soldiers.

“Go!” Damon yelled. I ran in the opposite direction to the now-abandoned camp and dug my heels into Mezzanotte, whispering in her velvety ears and imploring her to go faster.

Mezzanotte rode through the forest faster than she ever had before; once across the Wickery Bridge, she turned, as if she knew exactly how to head home. But then she reared and whinnied. I held on with my thighs and saw a shadowy figure with golden-brown hair, arm-in-arm with another girl.

I stiffened. No women would be out after dark unaccompanied by a man in the best of circumstances, but
definitely
not in these times. Not with the vampire attacks.

The face turned, and in the reflection on the water I saw a pale, pointed face.
Katherine. S
he was escorting little Anna from the apothecary. All I could see were the dark vines of Anna’s curls, bouncing over her shoulders.

“Katherine!” I yelled from the horse, with a strength I did not know I possessed. Now, instead of wanting to hold her, I wanted to use my arms to restrain her, to make her stop carrying out the awful thing she was about to do. I felt bile rise in my throat as I imagined finding a jagged branch and ramming it into her chest.

Katherine didn’t turn around. She held Anna’s shoulders tighter and led her into the forest. I kicked Mezzanotte hard on the flanks, the wind whipping against my face as I desperately tried to catch up with them.