Phantom

When the rabbit’s heartbeat stopped altogether, Stefan gently disengaged. He held the limp body in his hands for a moment, then set it on the ground and covered it with leaves. Thank you, little one, he thought. He was stil hungry, but he had already taken one life this morning. Damon would have laughed. Stefan could almost hear him. Noble Stefan, he would scoff, his black eyes narrowing in half-affectionate disdain. You’re missing all the best parts of being a vampire while you wrestle with your conscience, you fool.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a crow cawed overhead. For a moment, Stefan ful y expected the bird to plummet to earth and transform into his brother. When it didn’t, Stefan gave a short half laugh at his own stupidity and was surprised when it sounded almost like a sob. Damon was never coming back. His brother was gone. They’d had centuries of bitterness between them and had only just started to repair their relationship, joining together to fight the evil that always seemed drawn to Fel ‘s Church and to shield Elena from it. But Damon was dead, and now Stefan was the only one left to protect Elena and their friends.

A latent worm of fear squirmed in his chest. There was so much that could go wrong. Humans were so vulnerable, and now that Elena had no special powers, she was as vulnerable as any of them.

The thought sent him reeling, and immediately he took off, running straight toward Elena’s house on the other side of the woods. Elena was his responsibility now. And he would never let anything hurt her again.

The upstairs landing was almost the same as Elena remembered it: shining dark wood with an Oriental carpet runner, a few little tables with knickknacks and photographs, a couch near the big picture window overlooking the front drive.

But halfway to the stairs, Elena paused, glimpsing something new. Among the silver-framed photos on one of the smal tables was a picture of herself and Meredith and Bonnie, faces close together, grinning widely in caps and gowns and proudly brandishing diplomas. Elena picked it up, holding it close. She had graduated from high school. It felt odd to see this other Elena, as she couldn’t help thinking of her, her blond hair pul ed back in an elegant French twist, creamy skin flushed with excitement, smiling with her best friends, and not remember a thing about it. And she looked so carefree, this Elena, so ful of joy and hope and expectations for the future. This Elena knew nothing of the horror of the Dark Dimension or the havoc the kitsune had caused. This Elena was happy. Glancing quickly among the photos, Elena located a few more she hadn’t seen before. Apparently this other Elena had been queen of the Snow Bal , though Elena remembered Caroline had won that crown after Elena’s death. In this picture, however, Queen Elena was resplendent in pale violet silk, surrounded by her court: Bonnie fluffy and adorable in shiny blue taffeta; Meredith sophisticated in black; auburn-haired Caroline looking aggrieved in a tight silver dress that left very little to the imagination; and Sue Carson, pretty in pale pink, smiling straight into the camera, very much alive. Tears stung Elena’s eyes once more. They had saved her. Elena and Meredith and Bonnie and Matt and Stefan had saved Sue Carson.

Then Elena’s gaze landed on another photograph, this one of Aunt Judith in a long, lacy wedding dress, Robert standing proudly beside her in a morning suit. With them was the other Elena, clearly the maid of honor, in a dress the color of green leaves, holding a bouquet of pink roses. Beside her stood Margaret, shining blond head ducked shyly, grasping Elena’s dress with one hand. She was wearing a ful -skirted white flower girl’s dress tied with a wide green sash, and she clutched a basket of roses in her other hand.

Elena’s hands shook a little as she put this picture down. It looked as if a good time had been had by al . What a pity she hadn’t actual y been there.

Downstairs, a glass clinked against the table, and she heard Aunt Judith laugh. Putting aside al the strangeness of this new past she’d have to learn, Elena hurried down the stairs, ready to greet her future.

In the dining room, Aunt Judith poured orange juice from a blue jug while Robert spooned batter onto the waffle iron. Margaret was kneeling behind her chair, narrating an intense conversation between her stuffed rabbit and a toy tiger.

A great surge of joy fil ed Elena’s chest, and she grabbed Aunt Judith in a tight hug and spun her around. Orange juice spil ed across the floor in a wide arc.

"Elena!" scolded Aunt Judith, half laughing. "What’s the matter with you?"

"Nothing! I just I love you, Aunt Judith," Elena said, hugging her tighter. "I real y do."

"Oh," said Aunt Judith, her eyes soft. "Oh, Elena, I love you, too."

"And what a beautiful day," Elena said, pirouetting away.

"A wonderful day to be alive." She dropped a kiss on Margaret’s blond head. Aunt Judith reached for the paper towels.

Robert cleared his throat. "Are we to take it that you’ve forgiven us for grounding you last weekend?"

Oh. Elena tried to figure out how to respond, but after she’d been living on her own for months, the whole concept of being grounded by Aunt Judith and Robert seemed ridiculous. Stil , she widened her eyes and put on an appropriately contrite expression. "I’m truly sorry, Aunt Judith and Robert. It won’t happen again." Whatever it is. Robert’s shoulders relaxed. "We’l say no more about it, then," he said with obvious relief. He slid a hot waffle onto her plate and handed her the syrup. "Do you have anything fun planned for today?"

"Stefan is picking me up after breakfast," Elena said, then paused. The last time she had talked to Aunt Judith, after the disastrous Founder’s Day pageant, Aunt Judith and Robert had been seriously anti-Stefan. They, like most of the town, had suspected him of being responsible for Mr. Tanner’s death.