Dark Reunion

anymore at Vickie's death; only depressed and sick and very, very tired. She wished she could crawl into her bed at home and. pull the blankets over her head.

'Tyler,' she said aloud. And when they all turned to look at her, she said, 'We left him in the ruined church. And he's our last hope now. We've got to make him help us.'

That roused everyone. Stefan turned around silently, not speaking and not meeting anyone's eyes as he followed them back to the street. The police cars and ambulance were gone, and they drove to the cemetery without incident.

But when they reached the ruined church, Tyler wasn't there.

'We left his feet untied,' Matt said heavily, with a grimace of self-disgust. 'He must have walked away since his car's still down there.' Or he could have been taken, Bonnie thought. There was no mark on the stone floor to show which.

Meredith went to the knee-high wall and sat down, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose.

Bonnie sagged against the belfry.

They'd failed completely. That was the long and short of it tonight. They'd lost and he had won. Everything they'd done today had ended in defeat.

And Stefan, she could tell, was taking the whole responsibility on his own shoulders.

She glanced at the dark, bowed head in the front seat as they drove back to the boarding house. Another thought occurred to her, one that sent thrills of alarm down her nerves. Stefan was all they had to protect them now that Damon was gone. And if Stefan himself was weak and exhausted…

Bonnie bit her lip as Meredith pulled up to the barn. An idea was forming in her mind. It made her uneasy, even frightened, but another look at Stefan put steel in her resolve.

The Ferrari was still parked behind the barn—apparently Damon had abandoned it. Bonnie wondered how he planned to get about the countryside, and then thought of wings. Velvety soft, strong black crow's wings that reflected rainbows in their feathers. Damon didn't need a car.

They went into the boarding house just long enough for Bonnie to call her parents and say she was spending the night at Meredith's. This was her idea. But after Stefan had climbed the stairs to his attic room, Bonnie stopped Matt on the front porch.

'Matt? Can I ask you a favor?'

He swung around, blue eyes widening. 'That's a loaded phrase. Every time Elena said those particular words…'

'No, no, this is nothing terrible. I just want you to take care of Meredith, see she's okay once she gets home and all.' She gestured toward the other girl, who was already walking toward the car.

'But you're coming with us.'

Bonnie glanced at the stairs through the open door. 'No. I think I'll stay a few minutes. Stefan can drive me home. I just want to talk to him about something.'

Matt looked bewildered. 'Talk to him about what?'

'Just something. I can't explain now. Will you, Matt?'

'But… oh, all right. I'm too tired to care. Do what you want. I'll see you tomorrow.' He walked off, seeming baffled and a little angry.

Bonnie was baffled herself at his attitude. Why should he care, tired or not, if she talked to Stefan? But there was no time to waste puzzling over it. She faced the stairs and, squaring her shoulders, went up them.

The bulb in the attic ceiling lamp was missing, and Stefan had lighted a candle. He was lying haphazardly on the bed, one leg off and one leg on, his eyes shut. Maybe asleep. Bonnie tiptoed up and fortified herself with a deep breath.

'Stefan?'

His eyes opened. 'I thought you'd left.'

'They did. I didn't.' God, he's pale, thought Bonnie. Impulsively, she plunged right in.

'Stefan, I've been thinking. With Damon gone, you're the only thing between us and the killer. That means you've got to be strong, as strong as you can be. And, well, it occurred to me that maybe… you know… you might need…' Her voice faltered. Unconsciously she'd begun fiddling with the wad of tissues forming a makeshift bandage on her palm. It was still bleeding sluggishly from where she'd cut it on the glass.

His gaze followed hers down to it. Then his eyes lifted quickly to her face, reading the confirmation there. There was a long moment of silence.

Then he shook his head.

'But why? Stefan, I don't want to get personal, but frankly you don't look so good. You're not going to be much help to anybody if you collapse on us. And… I don't mind, if you only take a little. I mean, I'm never going to miss it, right? And it can't hurt all that much. And…' Once again her voice trailed off. He was just looking at her, which was very disconcerting. 'Well, why not?' she demanded, feeling slightly let down.

'Because,' he said softly, 'I made a promise. Maybe not in so many words, but—a promise just the same. I won't take human blood as food, because that means using a person, like livestock. And I won't exchange it with anyone, because that means love, and—' This time he was the one who couldn't finish. But Bonnie understood.

'There won't ever be anyone else, will there?' she said.

'No. Not for me.' Stefan was so tired that his control was slipping and Bonnie could see behind the mask. And again she saw that pain and need, so great that she had to look away from him.

A strange little chill of premonition and dismay trickled through her heart. Before, she had wondered if Matt would ever get over Elena, and he had, it seemed. But Stefan—

Stefan, she realized, the chill deepening, was different. No matter how much time passed, no matter what he did, he would never truly heal. Without Elena he would always be half himself, only half alive.

She had to think of something, do something, to push this awful feeling of dread away. Stefan needed Elena; he couldn't be whole without her. Tonight he'd started to crack up, swinging between dangerously tight control and violent rage. If only he could see Elena for just a minute and talk to her…

She'd come up here to give Stefan a gift that he didn't want. But there was something else he did want, she realized, and only she had the power to give it to him.

Without looking at him, her voice husky, she said, 'Would you like to see Elena?'

Dead silence from the bed. Bonnie sat, watching the shadows in the room sway and flicker. At last, she chanced a look at him out of the corner of her eye.

He was breathing hard, eyes shut, body taut as a bowstring. Trying, Bonnie diagnosed, to work up the strength to resist temptation.

And losing. Bonnie saw that.

Elena always had been too much for him.

When his eyes met hers again, they were grim, and his mouth was a tight line. His skin wasn't pale anymore but flushed with color. His body was still trembling-taut and keyed up with anticipation.

'You might get hurt, Bonnie.'

'I know.'

'You'd be opening yourself up to forces beyond your control. I can't guarantee that I can protect you from them.'

'I know. How do you want to do it?'

Fiercely, he took her hand. 'Thank you, Bonnie,' he whispered.

She felt the blood rise to her face. 'That's all right,' she said. Good grief, he was gorgeous. Those eyes… in a minute she was either going to jump him or melt into a puddle on his bed. With a pleasurably agonizing feeling of virtue she removed her hand from his and turned to the candle.

'How about if I go into a trance and try to reach her, and then, once I make contact, try to find you and draw you in? Do you think that would work?'

'It might, if I'm reaching for you too,' he said, withdrawing that intensity from her and focusing it on the candle. 'I can touch your mind… when you're ready, I'll feel it.'

'Right.' The candle was white, its wax sides smooth and shining. The flame drew itself up and then fell back. Bonnie stared until she became lost in it, until the rest of the room blacked out around her. There was only the