paleness as the person looked back at her and then melted into the darkness. Meredith ran on, searching, but there was nothing to be found.
Final y, she halted. Panting, trying to catch her breath, she swept the beam of the flashlight over the ground, looking for some clue. She couldn’t believe she had failed, that she had let the attacker get away.
Nothing. No trace. They had gotten so close, and stil , al she knew was that the person who attacked this girl owned black clothes and was an insanely fast runner. Meredith swore and kicked at the ground, then pul ed herself back together.
Approximating calmness, she headed back toward the victim. While Meredith was chasing the attacker, Samantha had helped the girl to her feet, and now the girl was huddled close to Samantha’s side, wiping her eyes with a tissue.
Shaking her head at Meredith, Samantha said, “She didn’t see anything. She thinks it was a man, but she didn’t see his face.”
Meredith clenched her fists. “Dammit. I didn’t see anything either. He was so fast…” Her voice trailed off as a thought struck her.
“What is it?” Samantha asked.
“Nothing,” Meredith said. “He got away.” In her mind, she replayed that momentary glimpse of pale hair she had seen as the attacker looked back at her. That shade of pale
—she had seen it somewhere very recently.
She remembered Zander, his face turned toward Bonnie’s. His white-blond hair was that same unusual shade. It wasn’t enough to go on, not enough to tel anyone.
A momentary impression of a color didn’t mean anything.
Meredith pushed the thought away, but, as she gazed off into the darkness again, she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold.
19
Nobody was going to lie to Elena Gilbert and get away with it.
Elena marched along the path to the library, indignation keeping her head high and her steps sharp. So James thought he could pretend he didn’t remember anything about those V-shaped pins? The way his eyes had skipped away from hers, the faint flush of pink in his plump cheeks, everything about him had shouted that there was something there, some secret about him and her parents that he didn’t want to tel her.
If he wasn’t going to tel her, she would find out for herself. The library seemed like a logical place to start.
“Elena,” a voice cal ed, and she stopped. She had been so focused on her mission that she had almost walked right by Damon, leaning against a tree outside the library. He smiled up at her with an innocently inquiring expression, his long legs stretched in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” she said abruptly. It was so weird, just seeing him here in the daylight on campus, like he was part of one picture superimposed upon another. He didn’t belong in this part of her life, not unless she brought him in herself.
“Enjoying the sunshine,” Damon said dryly. “And the scenery.” The wave of his hand encompassed the trees and buildings of the campus as wel as a flock of pretty girls giggling on the other side of the path. “What are you doing here?”
“I go to this school,” Elena said. “So it’s not weird for me to be hanging around the library. See my point?” Damon laughed. “You’ve discovered my secret, Elena,” he said, getting to his feet. “I was here hoping to see you.
Or one of your little friends. I get so lonely, you know, even your Mutt would be a welcome distraction.”
“Real y?” she asked.
He shot her a look, his dark eyes amused. “Of course I always want to see you, princess. But I’m here for another reason. I’m supposed to be looking into the disappearances, remember? So I have to spend some time on the campus.”
“Oh. Okay.” Elena considered her options. Official y, she shouldn’t be hanging around Damon at al . The terms of her breakup—or just break, she corrected herself—with Stefan were that she wasn’t going to see either of the Salvatore brothers, not until they worked out their own issues and this thing between the three of them had time to cool off. But she’d already violated that by letting Damon sleep on the floor of her room, a much bigger deal than going to the library together.
“And what are you up to?” Damon asked her. “Anything I can assist with?”
Real y, a trip to the library ought to be innocent enough.
Elena made up her mind. She and Damon were supposed to be friends, after al . “I’m trying to find out some information about my parents,” she said. “Want to help?”
“Certainly, my lovely,” Damon said, and took her hand.
Elena felt a slight frisson of unease. But his fingers were reassuringly firm in hers, and she pushed her hesitation away.
The ancient tennis-shoed librarian in charge of the archive room explained how to search the database of school records and got Elena and Damon set up in the corner on a computer.
“Ugh,” Damon said, poking disdainful y at a key. “I don’t mind computers, but books and pictures ought to be real, not on a machine.”
“But this way everyone can see them,” Elena said patiently. She’d had this kind of conversation with Stefan before. The Salvatore brothers might look col ege-aged, but there were some things about the modern world they just couldn’t seem to get their heads around.
Elena clicked on the photo section of the database and typed in her mother’s name, Elizabeth Morrow.
