Moonsong (27 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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You could always wish to be better. But even if he could, after al , be perfected, he suspected that it would take more than a few obstacle courses and group problem-solving exercises to do it.

“And now it is time to at last discover your purpose,” Ethan continued. “Time to complete the final stage in your transformation from ordinary students into true avatars of power.” He took a clean and shining silver cup from the altar and dipped it into the deep stone bowl in front of him.

“With every step forward in evolution, there must be some sacrifice. I regret any pain this wil cause you. Be comforted by the knowledge that al suffering is temporary. Anna, step forward.”

There was a slight uneasy stirring among the pledges.

This talk of suffering and sacrifice was different than Ethan’s usual emphasis on honor and power. Matt frowned.

Something was wrong here.

But Anna, looking tiny in her long robe, walked without hesitation up to the altar and pushed back her hood.

“Drink of me,” Ethan said, handing her the silver cup.

Anna blinked uncertainly and then, her eyes on Ethan, tipped back her head and drained the cup. As she handed it back to Ethan, she licked her lips automatical y, and Matt tried to peer more closely at her. In the flickering candlelight, her lips looked unnatural y red and slick.

Then Ethan led her around the side of the altar and into his arms. He smiled, and his face twisted, his eyes dilating and his lips pul ing back in a snarl. His teeth looked so long, so sharp. Matt tried to shout a warning but realized with horror that he couldn’t move his lips, couldn’t draw the breath to cal out.

He knew, suddenly, that he had been a fool.

Ethan sank his fangs deep into Anna’s neck. Matt strained, trying to run toward them, to attack Ethan and throw him away from Anna. But he couldn’t move at al . He must be under some kind of compulsion. Or perhaps something in the drink, some magic ingredient, had made them al docile and stil . He watched helplessly as Anna struggled for a few moments, then went limp, her eyes rol ing back in her head.

Unceremoniously, Ethan let her body drop to the ground. “Don’t be afraid,” he said kindly, gazing around at the horrified, frozen pledges. “Al of us”—he gestured toward the silent, masked Vitale behind him—“went through this initiation recently. You must brace yourself to suffer what is only a smal , temporary death, and then you wil be one of us, a true Vitale. Never growing old, never dying.

Powerful forever.”

Sharp white teeth and golden eyes shining in the candlelight, Ethan reached out toward the next pledge as Matt struggled again to shout, to fight. Ethan continued,

“Stuart, step forward.”

Elena smel ed so good, rich and sweet like an exotic ripe fruit. Damon wanted to simply bury his head in the soft skin at the crook of her neck and just inhale her for a decade or two. Snaking his arm through hers, he pul ed her closer.

“You can’t come in with me,” she told him for the second time. “I might be able to get James to talk to me because it’s a question about my parents, but I don’t think he’l tel me anything if someone else is there. Whatever the truth is about the Vitale Society and my parents, I think he’s embarrassed about it. Or afraid, or … something.” Without paying attention to what she was doing, Elena shifted her grip and held on to Damon’s arm more firmly.

“Fine,” Damon said stubbornly. “I’l wait outside. I won’t let him see me. But you’re not to walk across campus at night by yourself. It’s not safe.”

“Yes, Damon,” Elena said in a convincing imitation of meekness, and rested her head on his shoulder. The lemony scent of her shampoo mixed with the more essential Elena smel of her. Damon sighed with contentment.

She cared for him, he knew that, and Stefan had taken himself out of the picture. She was stil young, his princess, and a human heart could heal. Maybe, with Stefan gone, she would final y see how much closer she was, mind and soul, to Damon, how perfectly they fit together.

In any case, she was his for now. He lifted his free hand and stroked her head, her silky hair pliant beneath his fingers, and smiled.

The professor’s house was barely off campus, just across the street from the gilded entrance gates. They’d almost reached the edge of campus when a familiar presence that had been lurking nearby at last came very close.

Damon wheeled to scan the shadows, pul ing Elena with him.

“What is it?” Elena said, alarmed.

Come out, Damon thought with exasperation, sending his silent message toward the thickest shadows at the base of a crowd of oak trees. You know you can’t hide from me.

One dark shadow detached itself from the rest, stepping forward on the path. Stefan simply gazed at the ground, shoulders slumped, his hands loose and open by his sides. Elena gasped, a smal hurt sound.

Stefan looked terrible, Damon thought, not without sympathy. His face seemed hol ow and strained, his cheekbones more prominent than usual, and Damon would have bet that he wasn’t feeding properly. Damon felt a twinge of disquiet. He didn’t take pleasure in causing his brother pain. Not anymore.

“Wel ?” Damon said, raising his eyebrows.

Stefan glanced up at him. I don’t want to fight with you, Damon, he said silently.

So don’t, Damon shot back at him, and Stefan’s mouth twitched in a half smile of acknowledgment.

“Stefan,” Elena said suddenly, sounding like the word had been jerked out of her. “Please, Stefan.” Stefan stared down at the path under his feet, not meeting her eyes. “I sensed you were nearby, Elena, and I felt your anxiety,” he said wearily. “I thought you might have been in trouble. I’m sorry, I was mistaken. I shouldn’t have come.”

Elena stiffened, and her long dark lashes fel over her eyes, hiding, Damon was almost sure, the beginnings of tears.

A long silence stretched between them. Final y, irritated by the tension, Damon made an effort to ease it. “So,” he said casual y, “we broke into the campus security office last night.”

Stefan looked up with a flicker of interest. “Oh? Did you find anything useful?”

“Crime scene photos, but they weren’t very helpful,” Damon said, shrugging. “The folders were marked with black Vs, so we’re trying to figure out what that means.

Elena’s going to talk to her professor about the Vitale Society, see if it could have anything to do with them.”

“The… Vitale Society?” Stefan said hesitantly.

Damon waved a hand dismissively. “A secret society from back in the day when Elena’s parents were here,” he said. “Who knows? It may be nothing.”

Drawing a hand across his face, Stefan seemed to be thinking hard. “Oh, no,” he muttered. Then, looking at Elena for the first time, he asked, “Where’s Matt?”

“Matt?” Elena echoed, startled out of her wistful contemplation of Stefan. “Um, I think he had some kind of meeting tonight. Footbal stuff, maybe?”

“I have to go,” Stefan said tightly, and was immediately gone. With his enhanced abilities, Damon could hear Stefan’s light footsteps racing away. But to Elena, he knew, Stefan had been nothing but a silently vanishing blur.

Elena turned to Damon, her face crumpling in what he recognized as a prelude to more tears. “Why would he fol ow me if he doesn’t want to talk to me?” she said, her voice hoarse with sorrow.

Damon gritted his teeth. He was trying hard to be patient, to wait for Elena to give him her heart, but she kept thinking of Stefan. “He told you,” he said, keeping his voice even. “He wants to make sure you’re safe, but he doesn’t want to be with you. But I do.” Firmly recapturing her arm with his, he tugged her lightly forward. “Shal we?” 36

When he opened his door and saw Elena, James’s face crumpled, just for a fraction of a second, and he stepped backward, as if he was considering closing the door in her face. Then he seemed to think better of it, and he opened it wider, his face creasing into its familiar smile.

“Why, Elena,” he said, “My dear, I hardly expected a visitor at this hour. I’m afraid this isn’t the best time.” He cleared his throat. “I’d be delighted to see you at school, during office hours. Mondays and Fridays, remember?

Now, if you’l excuse me.” And, stil smiling gently, he shuffled forward and did try to close the door in her face.

But Elena swung her hand up and stopped him. “Wait,” she said. “James, I know you didn’t want to talk to me about the pins, but it’s important. I need to find out more about the Vitale Society.”

His bright black eyes glanced toward her and away, as if embarrassed. “Yes, wel ,” he said, “the problem is of course that unchaperoned solo visits from a student—any student, you understand, my dear, no reflection on you personal y—to a professor’s home are, er, frowned upon.

The wicked world we live in, you know,” and, with a soft chuckle, he pushed firmly against the door. “There are times and places.”

Elena pushed back. “I don’t believe for a minute that you’re trying to make me go away because my visit is inappropriate,” she said flatly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. People are in danger, James.

“I know you and my parents were part of the Vitale Society,” Elena continued doggedly. “I need you to tel me whatever it is that you’ve been hiding about those days. I think the Vitale is tied to the murders and disappearances on campus, and we have to stop it. You’re my only lead at this point, James.” He hesitated, his eyes watering with emotion, and Elena fixed him with her gaze. “More people are going to die,” she said harshly, “but you might be able to save them. Wil you?”

James visibly wavered and then seemed to give in al at once, his shoulders dropping. “I don’t know if anything I can tel you wil help. I don’t know anything about the murders.

But you’d better come in,” he said, and led the way down the hal and through his house. The kitchen was shining clean, with spotless white surfaces. Copper pots, woven baskets, and cheery red dishcloths and towels hung from hooks and were arranged on top of cupboards. Framed prints of fruits and vegetables hung on the wal s at intervals.

James sat her down at the table, then busied himself with making her a cup of tea.

Elena waited patiently until he final y settled across from her, with cups of tea in front of them both. “Milk?” he asked fussily, handing her the jug, without meeting her eyes.

“Sugar?”

“Thank you,” Elena said. Then she leaned across the table and placed her hand on his, keeping it there until he raised his eyes to look at her. “Tel me,” she said simply.

“I don’t know anything about the murders,” James said again. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have kept this secret if I thought anyone was in danger from it.” Elena nodded. “I know you wouldn’t,” she said. “Even if there isn’t a connection, if the secret is about my parents, I deserve to know,” she told him.

James sighed, a long breathy sound. “This was al a long time ago, you understand,” he said. “We were young and a bit naive. The Vitale Society was a force for good, back then. We worshipped natural spirits and drew our energy from the sacred Earth. We were a positive force in the community, interested principal y in love and peace and creativity. We served others. I hear that the Vitale Society has changed since those days, that darker elements have taken it over. But I don’t know much about them now. I haven’t been involved with the Vitale for years, not since the events I am about to recount to you.”

Elena sipped her tea and waited. James’s eyes flew to her face, almost shyly, then fixed back on the table. “One day,” he said slowly, “a strange man came to one of our secret meetings. He was—” James closed his eyes and shivered. “I had never seen a being of such pure power, or one who radiated such a feeling of peace and love. We, al of us, had no doubt that we were in the presence of an angel. He cal ed himself a Guardian.” Involuntarily, Elena sucked a breath through her teeth, hissing. James’s eyes snapped open, and he gave her a long look. “You know them?” At her nod, he shrugged a little. “Wel , you can imagine how he affected us.”

“What did the Guardian want?” Elena asked, her stomach dropping. She had met Guardians, and she hadn’t liked them. It was Guardians who had, coldly and efficiently, refused to bring Damon back to life when he had died in the Dark Dimension. And it was Guardians who had caused the car accident that kil ed her parents in an attempt to kil Elena so that they could recruit her to their ranks. Al the Guardians she’d met were female, though; she hadn’t even known there were male Guardians as wel .

Elena knew that, lovely as the Guardians appeared to be, they were not angels, were not on the side of Good or, for that matter, the side of Evil. They just believed in Order.

They could be very dangerous.

James looked at her briefly, then fiddled with the tea cup and napkin in front of him. “Would you like a scone?” he asked. She shook her head and stared at him, and he sighed again. “You have to understand that your parents were very young. Idealistic.”

Elena had the sinking feeling that she was going to find out something deeply unpleasant. “Go on,” she said.

Instead of continuing, though, James folded his napkin into tiny, precise squares, smal er and smal er, until Elena cleared her throat. Then he began again. “The Guardian told us that there was a need for a new kind of Guardian.

One who would be a mortal, on Earth, and who would possess special powers that she would need to maintain the balance between good and evil supernatural forces on Earth. Over the course of his visit, Elizabeth and Thomas, who were young and bril iant and good and deeply in love, and who had bright futures ahead of them, were chosen to be the parents of this mortal Guardian.” He let the napkin unfold itself in his hands and looked at Elena meaningful y. It took her a moment to catch on.

“Me? Are you kidding? I’m not—” She shut her mouth. “I have enough problems,” she said flatly. She paused as something he said sank in. “Wait, why do you think my parents were being naive?” she asked sharply. “What did they do?”

James drank a swal ow of tea. “Frankly, I think I need a little something in this before I continue,” he said. “I’ve kept this secret for a long time, and I stil have to tel you the worst part.” He got up and rummaged around in one of the cupboards, eventual y pul ing out a smal bottle ful of amber liquid. He held it out to Elena questioningly, but she shook her head. She was pretty certain she would need her head clear for the rest of this conversation. He poured a generous amount into his own cup.

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