The Dark Reunion (21 page)

“Here,” Matt whispered, his voice barely audible. Bonnie scooted on her stomach up to him and looked.

They were gazing down on the Francher homestead—or what was left of it. It had crumbled into the earth long ago, taken back by the forest. Now it was only a foundation, building stones covered with flowering weeds and prickly brambles, and one tall chimney like a lonely monument.

“There she is. Caroline,” Meredith breathed in Bonnie’s other ear.

Caroline was a dim figure sitting against the chimney. Her pale green dress showed up in the gathering dark, but her auburn hair just looked black. Something white shone across her face, and after a moment Bonnie realized it was a gag. Tape or a bandage. From her strange
posture—arms behind her, legs stretched straight out in front—Bonnie also guessed she was tied.

Poor Caroline, she thought, forgiving the other girl all the nasty, petty, selfish things she’d ever done, which was a pretty considerable amount when you got down to it. But Bonnie couldn’t imagine anything worse than being abducted by a psycho vampire who’d already killed two of your classmates, dragged out here to the woods and bound, and then left to wait, with your life depending on another vampire who had fairly good reason to hate you. After all, Caroline had wanted Stefan in the beginning, and had hated and tried to humiliate Elena for getting him. Stefan Salvatore was the last person who should feel kindly toward Caroline Forbes.

“Look!” said Matt. “Is that him? Klaus?”

Bonnie had seen it too, a ripple of movement on the opposite side of the chimney. As she strained her eyes he appeared, his light tan raincoat flapping ghostlike around his legs. He glanced down at Caroline and she shrank from him, trying to lean away. His laughter sounded
so clearly in the quiet air that Bonnie flinched.

“That’s him,” she whispered, dropping down behind the screening ferns. “But where’s Stefan? It’s almost dark now.”

“Maybe he got smart and decided not to come,” said Matt.

“No such luck,” said Meredith. She was looking though the ferns to the south. Bonnie glanced that way herself and started.

Stefan was standing at the edge of the clearing, having materialized there as if out of thin air. Not even Klaus had seen him coming, Bonnie thought. He stood silently, making no attempt to hide himself or the white ash spear he was carrying. There was something in his stance and the way he looked over the scene before him that made Bonnie remember that in the fifteenth century he’d been an aristocrat, a member of the nobility. He said nothing, waiting for Klaus to notice him, refusing to be rushed.

When Klaus did turn south he went still, and Bonnie got the feeling he was surprised Stefan had sneaked up on him. But then he laughed and spread his arms.

“Salvatore! What a coincidence; I was just
thinking about you!”

Slowly, Stefan looked Klaus up and down, from the tails of his tattered raincoat to the top of his windblown head. What Stefan said was:

“You asked for me. I’m here. Let the girl go.”

“Did I say that?” Looking genuinely surprised, Klaus pressed two hands to his chest. Then he shook his head, chuckling. “I don’t think so. Let’s talk first.”

Stefan nodded, as if Klaus had confirmed something bitter he’d been expecting. He took the spear from his shoulder and held it in front of him, handling the unwieldy length of wood deftly, easily. “I’m listening,” he said.

“Not as dumb as he looks,” Matt murmured from behind the ferns, a note of respect in his voice. “And he’s not as anxious to get killed as I thought,” Matt added. “He’s being careful.”

Klaus gestured toward Caroline, the tips of his fingers brushing her auburn hair. “Why don’t you come here so we don’t have to shout?” But he didn’t threaten to hurt his prisoner, Bonnie noticed.

“I can hear you just fine,” Stefan replied.

“Good,” Matt whispered. “That’s it, Stefan!”

Bonnie, though, was studying Caroline. The captive girl was struggling, tossing her head back and forth as if she were frantic or in pain. But Bonnie got a strange feeling about Caroline’s movements, especially those violent jerks of the head, as if the girl was straining to reach the sky. The sky … Bonnie’s gaze lifted up to it, where full darkness had fallen and a waning moon shone over the trees. That was why she could see that Caroline’s hair was auburn now: the moonlight, she thought. Then, with a shock, her eyes dropped to the tree just above Stefan, whose branches were rustling slightly in the absence of any wind. “Matt?” she whispered, alarmed.

Stefan was focused on Klaus, every sense, every muscle, every atom of his Power honed and turned toward the Old One before him. But in that tree directly above him …

All thoughts of strategy, of asking Matt what to do, fled from Bonnie’s mind. She bolted up from her place of concealment and shouted.

“Stefan! Above you! It’s a trap!”

Stefan leaped aside, neat as a cat, just as something plunged down on the exact place
he’d been standing an instant before. The moon lit the scene perfectly, enough for Bonnie to see the white of Tyler’s bared teeth.

And to see the white flash of Klaus’s eyes as he whirled on her. For one stunned instant she stared at him, and then lightning crackled.

From an empty sky.

It was only later that Bonnie would realize the strangeness—the fearsomeness—of this. At the time she scarcely noted that the sky was clear and star swept and that the jagged blue bolt that forked down struck the palm of Klaus’s upraised hand. The next sight she saw was so terrifying as to black everything else out: Klaus folding his hand over that lightning,
gathering
it somehow, and throwing it at her.

Stefan was yelling, telling her to get away,
get away!
Bonnie heard him while she stared, paralyzed, and then something grabbed her and wrenched her aside. The bolt snapped over her head, with a sound like a giant whip cracking and a smell like ozone. She landed facedown in moss and rolled over to grasp Meredith’s hand and thank Meredith for saving her, only to find that it was Matt.

“Stay here! Right here!” he shouted, and bounded away.

Those dreaded words. They catapulted Bonnie right up, and she was running after him before she knew what she was doing.

And then the world turned into chaos.

Klaus had whirled back on Stefan, who was grappling with Tyler, beating him. Tyler, in his wolf form, was making terrible sounds as Stefan threw him to the ground.

Meredith was running toward Caroline, approaching from behind the chimney so Klaus wouldn’t spot her. Bonnie saw her reach Caroline and saw the flash of Stefan’s silver dagger as Meredith cut the cords around Caroline’s wrists. Then Meredith was half carrying half dragging Caroline behind the chimney to work on her feet.

A sound like antlers clashing made Bonnie spin around. Klaus had come at Stefan with a tall branch of his own—it must have been lying flat on the ground before. It looked just as sharp as Stefan’s, making it a serviceable lance. But Klaus and Stefan weren’t just stabbing at each other; they were using the sticks as quarterstaffs.
Robin Hood, Bonnie thought dazedly. Little John and Robin. That was what it looked like: Klaus was that much taller and heavier boned than Stefan.

Then Bonnie saw something else and cried out wordlessly. Behind Stefan, Tyler had gotten up again and was crouching, just as he had in the graveyard before lunging for Stefan’s throat. Stefan’s back was to him. And Bonnie couldn’t warn him in time.

But she’d forgotten about Matt. Head down, ignoring claws and fangs, he was charging at Tyler, tackling him like a first-rate linebacker before he could leap. Tyler went flying sideways, with Matt on top of him.

Bonnie was overwhelmed. So much was happening. Meredith was sawing through Caroline’s ankle cords; Matt was pummeling Tyler in a way that certainly would have gotten him disqualified on the football field; Stefan was whirling that white ash staff as if he’d been trained for it. Klaus was laughing deliriously, seeming exhilarated by the exercise, as they traded blows with deadly speed and accuracy.

But Matt seemed to be in trouble now. Tyler
was gripping him and snarling, trying to get a hold on his throat. Wildly, Bonnie looked around for a weapon, entirely forgetting the carving knife in her pocket. Her eye fell on a dead oak branch. She picked it up and ran to where Tyler and Matt were struggling.

Once there, though, she faltered. She didn’t dare use the stick for fear she’d hit Matt with it. He and Tyler were rolling over and over in a blur of motion.

Then Matt was on top of Tyler again, holding Tyler’s head down, holding himself clear. Bonnie saw her chance and aimed the stick. But Tyler saw
her.
With a burst of supernatural strength, he gathered his legs and sent Matt soaring off him backward. Matt’s head struck a tree with a sound Bonnie would never forget. The dull sound of a rotten melon bursting. He slid down the front of the tree and was still.

Bonnie was gasping, stunned. She might have started toward Matt, but Tyler was there in front of her, breathing hard, bloody saliva running down his chin. He looked even more like an animal than he had in the graveyard. As if in a dream, Bonnie raised her stick, but she could
feel it shaking in her hands. Matt was so still—was he breathing? Bonnie could hear the sob in her own breath as she faced Tyler. This was ridiculous; this was a boy from her own school. A boy she’d danced with last year at the Junior Prom. How could he be keeping her away from Matt, how could he be trying to hurt them all? How could he be
doing
this?

“Tyler, please—” she began, meaning to reason with him, to beg mm….

“All alone in the woods, little girl?” he said, and his voice was a thick and guttural growl, shaped at the last minute into words. In that instant Bonnie knew that this was not the boy she’d gone to school with. This was an
animal.
Oh, God, he’s ugly, she thought. Ropes of red spit hung out of his mouth. And those yellow eyes with the slitted pupils—in them she saw the cruelty of the shark, and the crocodile, and the wasp that lays its eggs in a caterpillar’s living body. All the cruelty of animal nature in those two yellow eyes.

“Somebody should have warned you,” Tyler said, dropping his jaw to laugh the way a dog does. “Because if you go out in the woods alone,
you might meet the Big Bad—”

“Jerk!” a voice finished for him, and with a feeling of gratitude that bordered on the religious, Bonnie saw Meredith beside her. Meredith, holding Stefan’s dagger, which shone liquidly in the moonlight.

“Silver, Tyler,” Meredith said, brandishing it. “I wonder what silver does to a werewolf’s members? Want to see?” All Meredith’s elegance, her standoffishness, her cool observer’s dispassion were gone. This was the essential Meredith, a warrior Meredith, and although she was smiling, she was
mad.

“Yes!”
shouted Bonnie gleefully, feeling power rush through her. Suddenly she could move. She and Meredith, together, were strong. Meredith was stalking Tyler from one side, Bonnie held her stick ready on the other. A longing she’d never felt before shot through her, the longing to hit Tyler so hard his head would come flying off. She could feel the strength to do it surging in her arm.

And Tyler, with his animal instinct, could sense it, could sense it from both of them, closing in on either side. He recoiled, caught himself,
and turned to try and get away from them. They turned too. In a minute they were all three orbiting like a mini solar system: Tyler turning around and around in the middle; Bonnie and Meredith circling him, looking for a chance to attack.

One, two,
three.
Some unspoken signal flashed from Meredith to Bonnie. Just as Tyler leaped at Meredith, trying to knock the knife aside, Bonnie hit. Remembering the advice of a distant boyfriend who’d tried to teach her to play baseball, she imagined not just hitting Tyler’s head but
through
his head, hitting something on the opposite side. She put the whole weight of her small body behind the blow, and the shock of connecting nearly jarred her teeth loose. It jolted her arms agonizingly and it shattered the stick. But Tyler fell like a bird shot out of the sky.

“I did it!
Yes! All right! Yes!”
Bonnie shouted, flinging the stick away. Triumph erupted from her in a primal shout.
“We did it!”
She grabbed the heavy body by the back of the mane and pulled it off Meredith, where it had fallen.
“We
—
”

Then she broke off, her words freezing in her throat.
“Meredith!”
she cried.

“It’s all right,” Meredith gasped, her voice tight with pain. And weakness, Bonnie thought, chilled as if doused with ice water. Tyler had clawed her leg to the bone. There were huge, gaping wounds in the thigh of Meredith’s jeans and in the white skin that showed clearly through the torn cloth. And to Bonnie’s absolute horror, she could see inside the skin too, could see flesh and muscle ripped and red blood pouring out.

“Meredith—” she cried frantically. They had to get Meredith to a doctor. Everyone had to stop now; everyone must understand that. They had an injury here; they needed to get an ambulance, to call 911. “Meredith,” she gasped, almost weeping.

“Tie it up with something.” Meredith’s face was white. Shock. Going into shock. And so much blood; so much blood coming out. Oh, God, thought Bonnie, please help me. She looked for something to tie it up with, but there was nothing.

Something dropped on the ground beside her. A length of nylon cord like the cord they’d used to tie up Tyler, with frayed edges. Bonnie looked up.

“Can you use that?” asked Caroline uncertainly, her teeth chattering.

She was wearing the green dress, her auburn hair straggling and stuck to her face with sweat and blood. Even as she spoke she swayed, and fell to her knees beside Meredith.

“Are
you
hurt?” Bonnie gasped.

Caroline shook her head, but then she bent forward, racked with nausea, and Bonnie saw the marks in her throat. But there was no time to worry about Caroline now. Meredith was more important.

Bonnie tied the cord above Meredith’s wounds, her mind running desperately over things she’d learned from her sister Mary. Mary was a nurse. Mary said—a tourniquet couldn’t be too tight or left on too long or gangrene set in. But she had to stop the gushing blood. Oh, Meredith.