“Really?” I asked skeptically. I thought back to last night. Had Katherine done that to me? But no.
Even when I was frightened, I’d been myself. And all my feelings had been mine. Maybe vampires could do that, but Katherine certainly hadn’t done it to me.
Father chuckled. “Well, not all the time. One hopes that a man is strong enough to withstand that type of influence. And I certainly have raised my sons to be strong. Still, I wonder what could possibly have gotten into Damon’s head.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said, suddenly very nervous at the idea that Damon might have figured out Katherine’s secret. “I think he’s simply not sure what he wants.”
“I don’t care what he wants,” Father said.
“What he needs to remember is that he’s my son and I will not be disobeyed. These are dangerous times, much more so than Damon realizes. And he needs to understand that if he is not with us, people might construe that his sympathies lie elsewhere.”
“I think he just doesn’t believe in vampires,” I said, a sick feeling forming in the pit of my stomach.
“Shhh!” Father whispered, waving his hand toward me to quiet me down. The horses were clip-clopping into town, just past the saloon, where Jeremiah Black was already nearly passed out by the door, a half bottle of whiskey at his feet.
Somehow, I didn’t think Jeremiah Black was listening or even seeing what was going on, but I nodded, pleased that the silence gave me a chance to sort through my thoughts.
I glanced over to my right, where Pearl and her daughter were sitting on the iron bench outside the apothecary, fanning themselves. I waved to them, but, seeing Father’s warning glance, thought better about calling out to say hello.
I closed my mouth and sat silently until we reached the other end of town, where Jonathan Gilbert lived in an ill-kept mansion that had once belonged to his father. Father often made fun of the fact that the house was falling apart, but today he said nothing as Alfred opened the door of the carriage.
“Cordelia,” Father called tersely, allowing her to walk up the rickety steps of the Gilbert mansion first as we followed suit.
Before we could ring the bell, Jonathan himself opened the door. “Good to see you, Giuseppe, Stefan. And you must be Cordelia. I’ve heard much about your knowledge of native herbs,” he said, offering his hand to her.
Jonathan led us through the labyrinthine hallways and toward a tiny door next to the grand staircase. Jonathan opened it and gestured for us to head inside. We took turns ducking down to enter a tunnel that was about ten feet long, with a flimsy ladder at the other end. Wordlessly we climbed the ladder and emerged into a tiny, windowless space that immediately made me feel claustrophobic. Two candles burned in tarnished candleholders on a water-stained table, and as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could make out Honoria Fells sitting gingerly on a rocker in the corner. Mayor Lockwood and Sheriff Forbes shared an old wooden bench.
“Gentlemen,” Honoria said, standing up and welcoming us as if we were just stopping in for tea. “And I’m afraid I haven’t made your acquaintance, Mrs….” Honoria glanced suspiciously at Cordelia.
“Cordelia,” Cordelia murmured, glancing from one face to another, as if this was the last place she wanted to be.
My father coughed uncomfortably. “She treated Stefan during his spells after his …”
“After his fiancee got her throat ripped out?”
Mayor Lockwood said gruffly.
“Mayor!” Honoria said, clapping her hand to her mouth.
As Jonathan ducked back out into the hall, I settled on a straight-backed chair as far away from the group as possible. I felt out of place, though probably not as out of place as Cordelia, who was now awkwardly sitting on a wooden chair next to Honoria’s rocker.
“Now, then!” Jonathan Gilbert said, coming back to the room, his arms laden with tools and papers and objects I couldn’t even begin to identify. He sat on a moth-eaten velvet armchair at the head of the table and looked around. “Let’s begin.”
“Fire,” Father said simply.
A shiver of fear ran up my spine. Fire was how Katherine’s parents had perished. Was that because they were vampires, too? Had Katherine been the only one to escape?
“Fire?” Mayor Lockwood repeated.
“It’s been recorded, many times in Italy, that fire kills them, as does beheading or a stake in the heart. And, of course, there are herbs that can protect us.” Father nodded to Cordelia.
“Vervain,” Cordelia confirmed.
“Vervain,” Honoria said dreamily. “How pretty.”
Cordelia snorted. “It ain’t nothing but a herb.
But if you wear it, then you have protection from the devil. Some say it can also work a bit to nurse those who’ve been around them back to health.
But it’s poison to them devils you call vampires.”
“I want some!” Honoria said greedily, holding out her hand eagerly.
“I don’t have any with me,” Cordelia said.
“You don’t?” Father looked at her sharply.
“It’s all gone from the garden. I used it for Mr.
Stefan’s remedies; then when I went to pick it this morning, it was all gone. Was probably the children who took it,” Cordelia said indignantly, but she glanced straight at me. I looked away, reassuring myself that if she had known about Katherine’s true nature, she would have told my father by now.
“Well, then, where do I get some?” Honoria asked.
“It’s probably right under your nose,” Cordelia said.
“What?” asked Honoria sharply, as if she’d been insulted.
“It grows everywhere. Except our garden,” Cordelia said darkly.
“Well,” Father said, glancing at the two women, anxious to diffuse the situation. “After this meeting, Cordelia may escort Miss Honoria to her garden to find vervain.”
“Now, wait just a damn minute,” Mayor Lockwood said, pounding his beefy fist on the table. “You lost me at the woman talk. You mean to tell me that if I wear a lilac sprig, then the demons will leave me alone?” He snorted.
“Vervain, not lilac,” Cordelia explained. “It keeps evil away.”
“Yes,” Father said sagely. “And everyone in town must wear it. See to it, Mayor Lockwood.
That way, not only will our citizens be protected, but anyone who does not wear it will be exposed as a vampire and can then be burned,” Father said, his voice so smooth and matter-of-fact that it took every ounce of self-control for me not to stand up, rush down the shaky ladder, find Katherine, and run away with her.
But if I did that, and if Katherine was as dangerous as the Founders thought … I felt like a trapped animal, unable to find any escape. Was I trapped with the enemy right now, or was the enemy back at Veritas? I knew that, beneath my shirt collar, the wound on my neck was beginning to ooze specks of blood, and it would only be a matter of time before they soaked through the fabric and stood out as a visible reminder of my betrayal.
Mayor Lockwood shifted uneasily, causing the chair to creak. I jumped. “Now, if the herb works, that’s one thing. But we’re in the middle of a war.
We’ve got a lot of Confederate government officials passing through Mystic Falls on their way to Richmond, and if word gets out that instead of aiding the cause we’re fighting storybook creatures with flowers …” He shook his head. “We cannot issue an edict that everyone wear vervain.”
“Oh, really? Then how do we know you’re not a vampire?” Father demanded.
“Father!” I interjected. Someone had to bring a voice of reason into the discussion. “Mayor Lockwood is right. We need to think calmly.
Rationally.”
“Your son has a good head on his shoulders,” Mayor Lockwood said grudgingly.
“A better head than yours,” Father mumbled.
