The Return: Shadow Souls

32

Elena was radiantly happy. She had gone to sleep happy, only to wake up again happy, serene in the knowledge that soon — soon she would visit Stefan, and that after that — surely very soon — she would be able to take Stefan away.

Bonnie and Meredith weren’t surprised when she wanted to see Damon about two things: one being who should go and two being what she was going to wear. What did surprise them were her choices.

“If it’s all right,” she said slowly at the beginning, tracing a finger round and round on the large table in one of the parlors as everyone gathered the next morning, “I would like for just a few people to go with me. Stefan’s been badly treated,” she went on, “and he hates to look bad in front of other people. I don’t want to humiliate him.”

There was sort of a group blush at this. Or maybe it was a group flush of resentment — and then a group blush of culpability. With the western windows slightly open, so that an early-morning red light fell over everything, it was hard to tell. Only one thing was certain: everyone wanted to go.

“So I hope,” Elena said, turning to look Meredith and Bonnie in the eye, “that none of you are hurt if I don’t choose you to come with me.”

That tells both of them they’re out, Elena thought as she saw understanding blossom in both faces. Most of her plans depended on how her two best friends reacted to this.

Meredith gallantly stepped up to bat first. “Elena, you’ve been through hell — literally — and almost died doing it — to get to Stefan. You take with you the people who will do the most good.”

“We realize it isn’t a popularity contest,” Bonnie added, swallowing, because she was trying not to cry. She really wants to go, Elena thought, but she understands. “Stefan may feel more embarrassed in front of a girl than a boy,” Bonnie said. And she didn’t even add “even though we would never do anything to embarrass him,” Elena thought, going around for a hug and feeling Bonnie’s soft little birdlike body in her arms. Then she turned and felt Meredith’s warm and slim hard arms, and as always felt some of her tension drain away.

“Thank you,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes afterward. “And you’re right, I think it would be harder to face girls than boys in the situation he’s in. Also it will be harder to face friends he already knows and loves. So I would like to ask these people to go with me: Sage, Damon, and Dr. Meggar.”

Lakshmi leaped up as interested as if she had been chosen. “Where’s he in jail?” she asked, quite cheerfully.

Damon spoke up. “The Shi no Shi.”

Lakshmi’s eyes became round. She stared at Damon for a moment, and then she was bounding out the door, her shaken voice floating behind her: “I’ve got chores to do, master!”

Elena turned to look directly at Damon. “And what was that little reaction?” she asked in a voice that would have frozen lava at thirty meters.

“I don’t know. Truly, I don’t. Shinichi showed me kanji characters and said that they were pronounced ‘Shi no Shi’ and they meant ‘the Death of Death’—as in lifting the curse of death from a vampire.”

Sage coughed. “Oh, my trusting little one. Mon cher idiot. To not get a second opinion…”

“I did, actually. I asked a middle-aged Japanese lady at a library if the romaji — that’s the Japanese words written out in our letters, meant the Death of Death. And she said yes.”

“And you turned on your heel and walked out,” Sage said.

“How do you know?” Damon was getting angry.

“Because, mon cher, those words mean many things. It all depends upon the Japanese characters first used — which you did not show her.”

“I didn’t have them! Shinichi wrote it in the air for me, in red smoke.” Then in a kind of angry anguish: “What other things do they mean?”

“Well, they can mean what you said. They also could mean ‘the new death.’ Or ‘the true death.’ Or even —‘The Gods of Death.’ And given the way Stefan has been treated…”

If stares had been stakes, Damon would have been a goner by now. Everyone was looking at him with hard, accusing eyes. He turned like a wolf at bay and bared his teeth at them in a 250-kilowatt smile. “In any case, I didn’t imagine it was anything remarkably pleasant,” he said. “I just thought it would help him to get rid of the curse of being a vampire.”

“In any case,” Elena repeated. Then she said, “Sage, if you would go and make sure that they’ll let us in when we arrive, I would be enormously grateful.”

“As good as done, Madame.”

“And — let me see — I want everyone to wear something a little different to go visit him. If it’s all right I’ll go talk to Lady Ulma.”

She could feel Bonnie’s and Meredith’s bewildered looks on her back as she left.

Lady Ulma was pale, but bright of eye when Elena was escorted into her room. Her sketchbook was open, a good sign.

It took only a few words and a heartfelt look before Lady Ulma said firmly, “We can have everything done in an hour or two. It’s just a matter of calling the right people. I promise.”

Elena squeezed her wrist very, very gently. “Thank you. Thank you — miracle worker!”

“And so I am to go as a penitent,” Damon said. He was right outside Lady Ulma’s door when Elena came out and Elena suspected him of some eavesdropping.

“No, that never even occurred to me,” she said. “I just think that slave’s clothing on you and the other guys will make Stefan less self-conscious. But why should you think I wanted to punish you?”

“Don’t you?”

“You’re here to help me save Stefan. You’ve gone through—” Elena had to stop and look in her sleeves for a clean handkerchief, until Damon offered her a black silk one.

“All right,” he said, “we won’t get into that. I’m sorry. I think of things to say and then I just say them, no matter how unlikely I think they are, considering the person I’m speaking to.”

“And don’t you ever hear another little voice? A voice that says that people can be good, and may not be trying to hurt you?” Elena asked wistfully, wondering how loaded with chains the child was now.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes. But, as that voice is generally wrong in this wicked world, why should I pay it any attention?”

“I wish sometimes you would just try,” Elena whispered. “I might be in a better position to argue with you, then.”

I like this position just fine, Damon told her telepathically and Elena realized — how did this happen over and over? — that they had melted into an embrace. Worse, she was wearing her morning attire — a long silky gown and a peignoir of the same material, both in the palest of pearly blues, which turned violet in the rays of the ever-setting sun.

I — like it too, Elena admitted, and felt shockwaves go through Damon from his surface, through his body, and deep, deep into that unfathomable hole that one could see by looking into his eyes.

I’m just trying to be honest, she added, almost frightened by his reaction. I can’t expect anyone else to be honest if I’m not.

Don’t be honest, don’t be honest. Hate me. Despise me, Damon begged her, at the same time caressing her arms and the two layers of silk that were all that stood between his hands and her skin.

“But why?”

Because I can’t be trusted. I’m a wicked wolf, and you’re a pure soul, a snow-white newborn lamb. You mustn’t let me hurt you.

Why should you hurt me?

Because I might — no, I don’t want to bite you — I only want to kiss you, just a little, like this. There was revelation in Damon’s mind-voice. And he did kiss so sweetly, and he always knew when Elena’s knees were going to give out and picked her up before she could fall on the floor.

Damon, Damon, she was thinking, feeling very sweet herself because she knew