Moonsong (Page 61)

"Matt saw only one person – or whatever – near Chris’s body, though," Elena pointed out. "And he got there real y soon after Christopher screamed."

Damon waved a disparaging hand. "So they were fast," he said. "A vampire could do it before a human had time to even react to the scream. Almost anything supernatural could. Speed comes with the package."

Meredith shuddered. "A whole pack of something," she said numbly. "One would have been bad enough."

"A pack’s much worse," Damon agreed. "Are you ready to go now?"

"We’d better check and see if there’s anything else and then clean up," Elena said. "Do you want to stand guard outside? I feel like we’re real y tempting fate by staying here so long. You could give some kind of signal if you see someone coming or use your Power to get rid of them. Please?"

Damon smiled at her flirtatiously. "I’l be your watchdog, princess, but only because it’s you."

Meredith waited until he left to say dryly, "Speaking of dogs, remember when Damon kil ed Bonnie’s pet pug?" Elena opened the top file drawer again and started going through it methodical y. "I don’t want to talk about this, Meredith. It was Katherine who kil ed Yangtze, anyway."

"I just don’t think you realize what you’re getting into here," Meredith said. "Damon’s not terrific relationship material."

Elena’s hands faltered in their efficient progress. "I don’t

… it’s not like that," she said. "It’s not a relationship, I don’t want a relationship with anyone but Stefan." Meredith frowned, confused. "Well, then, what – "

"It’s complicated," Elena said. "I care about Damon, you know that. I’m seeing where things might go with him.

There’s something between us, there always has been.

With Stefan gone" – her voice cracked – "I have to give it a chance. Just … just let it alone for now, okay?" She picked up Samantha’s folder to put it back in the drawer. Her lips were trembling, and Meredith was about to pursue the subject: she wasn’t going to let it alone. Not when Elena was upset and somehow involved – more involved than she had been before – with Damon the dangerous vampire. But Elena interrupted her. "Huh," she said. "What do you think this means?"

Meredith craned to see what she was talking about, and Elena pointed. On the inside front of Samantha’s file was written a large black V. She picked up Christopher’s file.

"This one, too," she said, showing Elena.

"Vampires?" Elena asked. "The Vitale Society? What else starts with V and might have to do with these murders?"

"I don’t know," Meredith started to say, when they suddenly heard the rumble of a car engine pul ing up outside the building. A raucous caw came through the window.

"That’s Damon," Elena said, shoving Christopher’s file back into the cabinet. "If we don’t want him to have to compel the whole security force, we’d better get out of here fast."

Chapter Thirty-Four

"I like your place," Elena told Damon, looking around.

She’d been mildly surprised when he invited her to dinner. A conventional date wasn’t something she ever associated with Damon, but on her way over she had been tingling with excitement and curiosity. Despite having lived in the same palace as Damon in the Dark Dimension, she had never seen a home he’d made for himself. For al his brashness, she realized, Damon was oddly private.

She would have expected his apartment to be gothical y decorated in blacks and reds, like the vampire manors she’d visited in the Dark Dimension. But it wasn’t like that at al . Instead, it was minimalist, sleek and elegant in its simplicity, with clean pale wal s, lots of windows, furniture in glass and metal, and soft cool colors.

It suited him somehow. If you didn’t look too deeply into his dark, ancient eyes, he could have been a handsome young model or architect, clad in fashionable black, firmly rooted in the modern world.

But not entirely modern. Elena paused in the living room to admire the view over the town: stars sparkled in the sky above the muted lights of houses and car headlights on the roads. On a glass-and-chrome table below the window, something else sparkled just as brightly.

"What’s this?" she asked, picking it up. It looked like a golden bal overlaid with a tracery of diamonds, just the right size to fit comfortably in her palm.

"A treasure," Damon said, smiling. "See if you can find the catch on the side."

Elena felt the sphere with careful fingers, final y finding a cleverly concealed catch and pressing it. The bal unfolded in her hands, revealing a smal golden figure. A hummingbird, Elena saw, holding it up to inspect it, the gold chased with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.

"Wind the key," Damon said, coming to stand behind her, one cool hand on each of her sides. Elena found the smal key low on the back of the bird and turned it. The bird arched its neck and spread its wings, moving slowly and smoothly, as a delicate tune began to play.

"It’s beautiful," she said.

"Made for a princess," Damon told her, his eyes fixed on the bird. "A dainty little toy, from Russia before the revolution. They had craftsmen there in those days. A fun place to be, too, if you weren’t a peasant. Palaces, feasts, and riding through the snow in sleighs piled with furs."

"You were in Russia during the revolution?" Elena asked.

Damon laughed, a dry sharp little sound. "I was there before the revolution, darling. ‘Get out before things go bad,’ that’s always been my motto. I never cared enough to stay and see things through til the end. Before I met you, anyway."