But he wasn’t like that anymore. And he didn’t want her that way. He was trying so hard, although he hated to admit it even to himself, to be worthy of Elena. To be worthy of Stefan, even, if it came right down to it. It had been comforting to final y have his baby brother looking at him with something other than hatred and disgust.
Wel , that was over. The tentative truce, the beginnings of friendship, the brotherhood, whatever it had been between him and Stefan, was gone.
“Come on, princess,” he murmured to Elena, helping her up the stairs toward her door. “Just a little farther.” He couldn’t be sorry they kissed. She was so beautiful, so alive and vibrant in his arms. And she tasted so good.
And he loved her, he did, as far as his hard heart was capable of it. His mouth curled again, and he could taste his own bitterness. Elena was never going to be his, was she? Even when Stefan turned his back on her, the self-righteous idiot, he was al she thought about. Damon’s free hand, the one that wasn’t cupping Elena’s shoulder protectively, tightened into a fist.
They’d reached Elena’s room, and Damon fished in her purse for her keys, unlocking the door for her.
“Damon,” she said, turning in the doorway to look him straight in the eyes for the first time since before Stefan caught them kissing. She looked pale stil , but resolute, her mouth a straight line. “Damon, it was a mistake.” Damon’s heart dropped like a stone, but he held her gaze. “I know,” he said, his voice steady. “Everything wil work out in the end, princess, you’l see.” He forced his lips to turn up in a reassuring, supportive smile. The smile of a friend.
Then Elena was gone, the door to her room shutting firmly behind her.
Damon spun in his tracks, cursing, and kicked at the wal behind him. It cracked, and he kicked it again with a sour satisfaction at the feeling of the plaster splitting.
There was a muted grumbling coming from behind the other doors on the floor, and Damon could hear footsteps approaching, someone coming to investigate the noise. If he had to deal with anyone now, he’d probably kil him. That wouldn’t be a good idea, no matter how much he might enjoy it for the moment, not with Elena right here.
Launching himself toward an open hal window, Damon smoothly transitioned to a crow in midair. It was a relief to stretch his wings, to pick up the rhythm of flying and feel the breeze against his feathers, lifting and supporting him. He flew through the window with a few strong beats of his wings and flung himself out into the night. Catching the wind, he soared recklessly high despite the darkness of the night. He needed the rush of the wind against his body, needed the distraction.
25
Dear Diary,
I can’t believe what a fool I am, what a faithless, worthless fool.
I should never have kissed Damon, or let him kiss me.
The look on Stefan’s face when he found us was heartbreaking. His features were so stiff and pale, as if he was made of ice, and his eyes were shining with tears. And then it seemed like a light went out inside him, and he looked at me like he hated me.
Like I was Katherine. No matter what happened between us, Stefan never looked at me like that before.
I won’t believe it. Stefan could never hate me.
Every beat of my heart tells me that we belong together, that nothing can tear us apart.
I’ve been such a fool, and I’ve hurt Stefan, although that was the one thing I never wanted to do. But this isn’t the end for us. Once I apologize and explain what a moment of madness he witnessed, he’ll forgive me. Once I can touch him again, he’ll see how sorry I am.
It was only the adrenaline from coming so close to death, from that car chasing after us. Neither Damon nor I really wanted the other one, that kiss was just us clinging hard to life.
No. I can’t lie. Not here. I have to be honest with myself, even if I pretend with everyone else. I wanted to kiss Damon. I wanted to touch Damon. I always have.
But I don’t have to. I can stop myself, and I will. I don’t want to cause Stefan any more pain.
Stefan will understand that, will understand that I’ll do anything I can to make him happy again, and then he’ll forgive me.
This can’t be the end. I won’t let it be.
Elena closed her journal and dialed Stefan’s number once more, letting the phone ring until it went to voicemail and then hanging up. She’d cal ed him several times last night, then over and over again this morning. Stefan could see her cal ing, she knew. He always kept his phone on. He always answered, too; he seemed to feel some obligation to be available since he had the phone with him.
The fact that he wasn’t answering meant he was avoiding her on purpose.
Elena shook her head fiercely and dialed again. Stefan was going to listen to her. She wasn’t going to let him turn her away. Once she explained and he forgave her, everything could go back to normal. They could end this separation that was making them both so unhappy—
clearly, it hadn’t worked out the way she intended.
Except, what exactly was she going to say? Elena sighed and flopped down backward onto her bed, her heart sinking. Adrenaline from the car’s pursuit aside, al she could real y say was that she hadn’t meant for the kiss with Damon to happen, that she didn’t want him, not real y. She wanted Stefan. Al she could tel him was that it wasn’t something she had expected or planned. That Damon wasn’t the one she wanted. Not truly. That she would always choose Stefan.
That would have to be enough. Elena dialed again.
This time, Stefan picked up.
“Elena,” he said flatly.
“Stefan, please listen to me,” Elena said in a rush. “I’m so sorry. I never—”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Stefan said, cutting her off. “Please stop cal ing me.”
“But, please, Stefan—”
“I love you, but…” Stefan’s voice was soft but cold. “I don’t think we can be together. Not if I can’t trust you.” The line went dead. Elena pul ed the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a moment, puzzled, before she realized what had happened. Stefan, dear, darling Stefan who had always been there for her, who loved her no matter what she did, had hung up on her.
Meredith pul ed one foot up behind her back, held it in both hands, breathed deep, and slowly pul ed the foot higher, stretching her quadriceps muscle.
It felt good to stretch, to get a little blood flowing after her late night. She was looking forward to sparring with Samantha. There was a new move Meredith had figured out, a little something kickboxing inspired, that she thought Sam was going to love, once she got over the shock of being knocked down by Meredith once again. Samantha had been getting faster and more sure of herself as they kept working out together, and Meredith definitely wanted to keep her on her toes.
That was, it would be terrific to spar with Samantha, if Samantha ever actual y arrived. Meredith glanced at her watch. Sam was almost twenty minutes late.
Of course, they’d been out late the night before. But stil , it wasn’t like Samantha not to show up when she said she was going to. Meredith turned on her phone to see if she had a message, then cal ed Samantha. No answer.
Meredith left a quick voicemail, then hung up and went back to stretching, trying to ignore the faint quiver of unease running through her. She circled her shoulders, stretched her arms behind her back.
Maybe Samantha just forgot and had her phone turned off. Maybe she overslept. Samantha was a hunter; she wasn’t in danger from whoever—or whatever—was stalking the campus.
Sighing, Meredith gave up on her workout routine. She wasn’t going to be able to focus until she checked on Samantha, even though the other girl was probably fine.
Undoubtedly fine. Scooping up her backpack, she headed for the door. She could get in a run on the way over.
The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and Meredith’s feet pounded the paths in a regular rhythm as she wove between people wandering around campus. By the time she reached Samantha’s dorm, she was thinking that maybe Sam would want to go for a nice long run with her instead of sparring today.