The Fury

Katherine smiled back at him, enchanted. "We’ll be so happy together. Once they’re dead, I’ll let you go. I didn’t mean to hurt you, not really. I just got angry." She put out a slender hand and stroked his cheek. "I’m sorry."

"Katherine," he said. He was still smiling.

"Yes." She leaned closer.

"Katherine…"

"Yes, Damon?"

"Go to hell."

Elena flinched from what happened next before it happened, feeling the violent upsurge of Power, of malevolent, unbridled Power. She screamed at the change in Katherine. That lovely face was twisting, mutating into something that was neither human nor animal. A red light blazed in Katherine’s eyes as she fell on Damon, her fangs sinking into his throat.

Talons sprang from her fingertips, and she raked Damon’s already-bleeding chest with it, tearing into his skin while the blood flowed. Elena kept screaming, realizing dimly that the pain in her arms was from fighting the ropes that held her. She heard Stefan shouting, too, but above everything she heard the deafening shriek of Katherine’s mental voice.

Now you’ll be sorry! Now I’m going to make you sorry! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!

The words themselves hurt, like daggers stabbing into Elena’s mind. The sheer Power of it stupefied her, rocking her back against the iron pickets. But there was no way to get away from it. It seemed to echo from all around her, hammering in her skull.

Kill you! Kill you! Kill you!

Elena fainted.

Meredith, crouched beside Aunt Judith in the utility room, shifted her weight, straining to interpret the sounds outside the door. The dogs had gotten into the cellar; she wasn’t sure how, but from the bloody muzzles of some of them, she

thought they had broken through the ground-level windows. Now they were outside the utility room, but Meredith couldn’t tell what they were doing. It was too quiet out there.

"Hush," Robert whispered quickly. "It’s all right, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be all right."

Meredith met his frightened, determined eyes over Margaret’s tow head. We almost had you pegged for the Other Power, she thought. But there was no time to regret it now.

"Where’s Elena? Elena said she’d watch over me," Margaret said, her eyes large and solemn. "She said she’d take care of me." Aunt Judith put a hand to her mouth.

"She is taking care of you," Meredith whispered. "She just sent me to do it, that’s all. It’s the truth," she added fiercely, and saw Robert’s look of reproach melt into perplexity.

Outside, the silence had given way to scratching and gnawing sounds. The dogs were at work on the door.

Robert cradled Margaret’s head closer to his chest.

Bonnie didn’t know how long they had been working. Hours, certainly. Forever, it seemed like. The dogs had gotten in through the kitchen and the old wooden side doors. So far, though, only about a dozen had gotten past the fires lit like barricades in front of these openings. And the men with guns had taken care of most of those.

But Mr. Smallwood and his friends were now holding empty rifles. And they were running out of things to burn.

Vickie had gotten hysterical a little while ago, screaming and holding her head as if something was hurting her. They’d been looking for ways to restrain her when she finally passed out.

Bonnie went up to Matt, who was looking out over the fire through the demolished side door. He wasn’t looking for dogs, she knew, but for something else much farther away. Something you couldn’t see from here.

"You had to go, Matt," she said. "There was nothing else you could do." He didn’t answer or turn around.

"It’s almost dawn," she said. "Maybe when that comes, the dogs will leave." But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true.

Matt didn’t answer. She touched his shoulder. "Stefan’s with her. Stefan’s there."

At last, Matt gave some response. He nodded. "Stefan’s there," he said.

Brown and snarling, another shape charged out of the dark.

It was much later when Elena came gradually to consciousness. She knew because she could see, not just by the handful of candles Katherine had lit but also by the cold gray dimness that filtered down from the crypt’s opening.

Damon? she thought. It was only after she had done it that she realized the word had not been spoken. Somehow, Katherine’s shrieking had closed a circuit in her mind, or maybe it had awakened something sleeping. And Matt’s blood had undoubtedly helped, giving her the strength to finally find her mental voice.

She turned her head the other way. Stefan?

His face was haggard with pain, but aware. Too aware. Elena almost wished that he were as insensible as Damon to what was happening to them.

Elena, he returned.

Where is she? Elena said, her eyes moving slowly around the room.

Stefan looked toward the opening of the crypt. She went up there a while ago.

Maybe to check on how the dogs are doing.

Elena had thought she’d reached the limit of fear and dread, but it wasn’t true. She hadn’t remembered the others then.

Elena, I’m sorry. Stefan’s face was filled with what no words could express.

It’s not your fault, Stefan. You didn’t do this to her. She did it to herself. Or-it just happened to her, because of what she is. What we are. Running beneath Elena’s thoughts was the memory of how she had attacked Stefan in the woods, and how she had felt when she was racing toward Mr. Smallwood, planning her revenge. It could have been me, she said.

No! You could never become like that.

Elena didn’t answer. If she had the Power now, what would she do to Katherine?

What wouldn’t she do to her? But she knew it would only upset Stefan more to talk about it.