Moonsong (7 page)

Elena came out of the building and started across the quad, tucking her long golden hair behind her ears, oblivious to the black crow that swooped from tree to tree above her. Damon was going to find out what was going on here, and he was going to do it before whatever it was touched any of his humans.

Especial y Elena.

8

“Ugh, I don’t think there’s a single thing on the hot-lunch bar I’d ever consider eating,” Elena said to Stefan. “Half the stuff I can’t even identify.” Stefan watched patiently as she passed on to the salad bar.

“This isn’t much better,” she said, lifting a watery spoonful of cottage cheese and letting it slop back into the container for emphasis. “I thought the food at col ege would be more edible than in our high school cafeteria, but apparently I was wrong.”

Stefan made a vague sound of agreement and looked around for a place for them to sit. He wasn’t eating. Human food didn’t have much taste for him now, and he’d used his Power to cal down a dove to his balcony that morning. That had provided enough blood to hold him until the evening, when he would need to hunt again.

Once Elena final y made herself a salad, he led her to the empty table he’d spotted.

She kissed him before she sat down and a shiver of delight ran through him as their minds touched. The familiar link between them slid into place, and he felt Elena’s joy, her contentment at being with him and at their new, nearly normal, lives. Below this, a touch of excitement fizzed through her, and Stefan sent a questioning thought between them, wondering what had happened since they’d seen each other that morning.

Elena broke the kiss and answered his unspoken question.

“Professor Campbel , my history professor, knew my parents when they were in col ege,” she said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were bright, and Stefan could sense how big this was for her. “He was a real y good friend of theirs. He can tel me stories about them, parts of their lives I never knew before.”

“That’s great,” Stefan said, pleased for her. “How was the class?”

“It was al right,” Elena said, beginning to eat her salad.

“We’re talking about the colonial days for the first couple of weeks.” She looked up, her fork poised in midair. “How about you? What was your philosophy class like?”

“Fine.” Stefan paused. Fine wasn’t real y what he meant. It had been strange to be sitting in a col ege classroom again. He’d attended col ege a few times during his long history, seen the changing fads in education. At first, his classmates had been a select number of wealthy young men, and now there was a more diverse mix of boys and girls. But there was an essential sameness to al those experiences. The professor lecturing, the students either bored or eager. A certain shal owness of thought, a shy ducking away from exposing deeper feelings.

Damon was right. Stefan didn’t belong here; he was just playing a role, again. Kil ing some of his limitless time. But Elena—he looked at her, her shining blue eyes fixed on him

—she did belong here. She deserved the chance at a normal life, and he knew she wouldn’t have come to col ege without him.

Could he say any of this to her? He didn’t want to dim the excitement in those lapis lazuli eyes, but he had sworn to himself that he would always be honest with her, would treat her as an equal. He opened his mouth, hoping to explain some of what he felt.

“Did you hear about Daniel Greenwater?” a girl asked nearby, her voice high with curiosity as she and her friends slid into the empty chairs on the other end of the table.

Stefan closed his mouth and turned his head to listen.

“Who’s Daniel Greenwater?” someone else asked.

“Look,” the first girl said, unfolding a newspaper she held. Glancing over, Stefan saw it was the campus paper.

“He’s a freshman, and he just vanished. He left the student center when it closed last night, and his roommate says he never came back to the room. It’s real y creepy.” Stefan’s eyes met Elena’s across the table, and she raised an eyebrow thoughtful y. Could this be something they should look into?

Another girl at the other end of the table shrugged. “He probably just got stressed out and went home. Or maybe his roommate kil ed him. You know you get automatic As if your roommate dies.”

“That’s a myth,” Stefan said absently, and the girls looked up at him in surprise. “Could I see the paper for a moment, please?”

They passed it over, and Stefan studied the picture on the front. A high school yearbook photo smiled up at him, a skinny floppy-haired guy with a slight overbite and friendly eyes. A face he recognized. He had thought the name sounded familiar.

“He lives in our dorm,” he said softly to Elena.

“Remember him from orientation? He seemed happy to be here. I don’t think he would have left, not of his own free wil .”

Elena stared at him, her wide eyes apprehensive now.

“Do you think something bad happened to him? There was something weird going on in the quad the first night we were here.” She swal owed. “They said a girl had gotten into some trouble, but the cops wouldn’t real y tel us anything. Do you think it might be related to Daniel Greenwater’s disappearance?”

“I don’t know,” Stefan said tightly, “but I’m worried. I don’t like anything out of the ordinary.” He stood up. “Are you ready to go?” Elena nodded, although half her lunch was stil on her tray. Stefan handed the paper politely back to the girls and fol owed Elena outside.

“Maybe we’re paranoid because we’re used to terrible things happening,” Elena said, once they were on the path heading back up the hil toward their dorm. “But people disappear al the time. Girls get harassed or attacked sometimes. It’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t mean there’s a sinister plot behind it al .”

Stefan paused, staring at a flyer stuck to a tree by the cafeteria. Missing Student, the caption said, with a picture of a girl beneath it. “Promise me you’l be careful, Elena,” he said. “Tel Meredith and Bonnie, too. And Matt. None of you should be wandering around campus by yourselves.

Not at night, anyway.”

Elena nodded, her face pale, staring at the picture on the flyer. Stefan felt a sharp pang of regret even through his anxiety. She had been so excited when they met for lunch, and now that enthusiasm had drained away.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, wanting to hold her, to keep her safe. “Why don’t we go out tonight?” he said. “I’ve got a study group to go to, but it shouldn’t last too long. We could go off campus for dinner. Maybe you could stay over tonight? I’d feel better if I knew you were safe.” Elena looked at him, her eyes suddenly sparkling with laughter. “Oh, as long as that’s the only reason you’d want me in your room,” she said, smiling. “I’d hate to think you had designs on my virtue.”

Stefan thought of Elena’s creamy skin and silky golden hair, of her warmth, the rich wine of her blood. The idea of her in his arms again, without her aunt Judith or his landlady, Mrs. Flowers, down the hal , was intoxicating.

“Of course not,” he murmured, bowing his head toward hers. “I have no designs. I live only to serve you.” He kissed Elena again, sending al his love and longing to her.

Above their heads, Stefan heard a strident cawing and the flapping of wings, and, his lips stil against Elena’s, he frowned. Elena seemed to sense his sudden tension and pul ed away from him, fol owing his gaze toward the black crow wheeling above them.

Damon. Watching them, watching Elena, as always.

“Excel ence.” Ethan’s voice rang out across the outdoor basketbal court where the pledges were gathered. Dawn was breaking, and there was no one around except for Ethan and the sleepy-faced pledges. “As you know from our first meeting, each of you here exemplifies the peak of one or more types of achievement. But that’s not enough.” He paused, looking from face to face. “It’s not enough for each of you to have a piece of the best. You can encompass al these attributes in yourself. Over the course of the pledge period, you wil discover worlds inside yourselves that you’ve never imagined.” Matt shuffled his sneakers against the asphalt and tried to keep the skeptical expression off his face. Expecting him to achieve the heights of academic or artistic success, he knew, was a long shot.

He wasn’t particularly modest, but he was realistic, and he could list his best qualities: athlete, good friend, honorable guy. He wasn’t stupid, either, but if excel ing in intel ect and creativity were prerequisites for being part of the Vitale Society, he might as wel give up now.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced around at his fel ow pledges. It was reassuring to see that most of them were wearing expressions of barely restrained panic: apparently “encompassing al these attributes” wasn’t something they’d reckoned on either. Chloe, the cute round-faced girl he’d noticed at the first gathering, caught his eye and winked, just a quick brush of her lashes, and he smiled back, feeling oddly happy.

“Today,” Ethan announced, “we wil work on athleticism.” Matt sighed with relief. Athleticism he could do.

Al around him, he saw faces fal . The intel ectuals, the leaders, the budding creative geniuses—they weren’t looking forward to testing their athletic prowess. A low rebel ious murmur swel ed among them.

“Don’t sulk,” said Ethan, laughing. “I promise you, by the time you become ful members of the society, each of you wil have reached your peak of physical perfection. For the first time, you wil feel what it is to be truly alive.” His eyes glittered with possibility.

Ethan went on to outline the pledges’ task. They were about to embark on a fifteen-mile run, with several obstacles along the way. “Be prepared to get dirty,” he said cheerful y. “But it wil be wonderful. When you finish, you’l have achieved something new. You are welcome to assist one another. But be aware: if you do not complete the run in three hours, you wil not be invited to continue to the next step in the pledging process.” He smiled. “Only the best can become members of the Vitale Society.” Matt looked around and saw that the pledges, even those who looked like they had never left the science lab or the library, were retying their sneakers and stretching, wearing determined expressions.

“Holy cow,” a voice beside him said. It was a nice voice, with a real twang to it, a voice that came from somewhere deeper in the South than Virginia, and Matt was smiling even before he looked around and saw that it was Chloe. “I figure you’re about the only person here who isn’t going to have a lot of trouble with this,” she said.

She was so cute. Little dimples showed in her cheeks when she smiled, and her short dark hair fel in curls behind her ears. “Hey, I’m Matt,” Matt said, grinning back at her.

“I knew that,” she said cheerful y. “You’re our footbal star.”

“And you’re Chloe, the amazing artist,” he said.

“Oh.” She blushed. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’d love to see your work sometime,” he told her, and her smile widened.

“Any tips for today?” she asked. “I never run unless I’m about to miss the bus, and I think I’m about to regret that.” Her face was so appealing that Matt momentarily felt like hugging her. Instead, he frowned thoughtful y up at the sky. “Under these kinds of conditions,” he said, “the best thing to do is incline your arms at a fifty-degree angle to the ground and run with a light bounding step.” Chloe stared at him for a minute and then giggled.

“You’re teasing me,” she said. “That’s not fair. I have no idea about this stuff.”

“I’l help you,” Matt said, feeling good. “We can do it together.”

9

Where r u? Elena texted impatiently. Stefan was supposed to meet her at her dorm room more than twenty minutes ago. Surely his study group was over by now? She was starving.

She paced around the room, occasional y glancing at the dark tree branches beyond the windows. It wasn’t like Stefan to be late.

She checked her phone. It was too soon to try to reach him again.

Outside, something dark moved, and she gasped.

Then she shook her head. It was just the branches of the trees out there, waving in the breeze. She moved closer, trying to see past the reflections on the glass. Their room was on the third floor; there wouldn’t be anyone sitting that high up. At least not anyone human. Elena shuddered.

“Elena,” said a cool, clear voice from outside.

With a squeak that sounded like a frightened rabbit, Elena jerked backward, pressing one hand to her pounding heart. After a moment, she stepped up to the window and threw it open.

“Damon,” she said. “You scared me to death. What are you doing out there?”

There was a flash of white teeth in the shadows. A mocking tone rang through his answer. “Waiting for you to invite me into your room, of course.”

“You don’t need an invitation,” Elena said. “You helped me move in.”

“I know,” Damon said, smiling. “I’m being a gentleman.” Elena hesitated. She trusted Damon, of course she did, but this seemed so intimate. Damon outside in the dark, Elena alone in her bedroom, neither of her roommates around. He’d been in her room at home, but Aunt Judith and Robert had been just down the hal . She wondered if Stefan would mind her being alone here with Damon, but she shook off the thought. He trusted Elena, that was what mattered.

“Elena,” Damon’s voice was soft but insistent. “Let me in before I fal .”

Rol ing her eyes, she said, “You’d never fal . And if you did, you’d fly. But you can come in anyway.” With a soft whoosh, faster than her eye could fol ow, Damon was suddenly beside her. She had to step back a pace. Eyes and hair as dark as night, pale luminous skin, perfectly cut features. He even smel ed good. His lips looked so soft….

Elena caught herself leaning toward him, her own lips parting, and pul ed away. “Stop it,” she said.

“I’m not doing anything,” Damon said innocently. When Elena arched a skeptical eyebrow at him, he shrugged and shot her a brief, bril iant smile. There, Elena thought. That’s why Stefan might mind Damon being here. “Oh, al right.

I’m only teasing you.”

He looked around the room and quirked an eyebrow of his own. “Why, Elena,” he said, “I’m almost disappointed.

You and your friends are running so true to type here.” Elena fol owed his eyes. Bonnie’s side of the room was a mess, a tumble of stuffed animals, rejected outfits, and Dalcrest paraphernalia. In contrast, Meredith’s area was rigidly tidy, books lined up alphabetical y, a single silver pen on the desk next to her slim silver laptop, her bed neatly draped in a silk duvet in subtly patterned gray and white.