"Hey, you're okay, just sit up slowly... easy. Are you all right, Stefan?"
"Yes," said Stefan. He didn't look okay, Matt thought. His face was dead white and his pupils were dilated hugely. He looked disoriented and sick. "Thank you," he said.
"You may not thank me in a minute. Stefan, you've got to get out of here. Can't you hear them? They're after you."
Stefan turned toward the gym, as if listening. But there was no comprehension on his face. "Who's after me? Why?"
"Everybody. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you've got to get out before they come in here." As Stefan continued simply to stare blankly, he added, "There's been another attack, this time on Tanner, Mr. Tanner. He's dead, Stefan, and they think you didit ."
Now, at last, he saw understanding come to Stefan's eyes. Understanding and horror and a kind of resigned defeat that was more frightening than anything Matt had seen tonight. He gripped Stefan's shoulder hard.
"Iknow you didn't," he said, and at that moment it was true. "They'll realize that, too, when they can think again. But meanwhile, you'd better get out."
"Get out... yes," said Stefan. The look of disorientation was gone, and there was a searing bitterness in the way he pronounced the words. "I will... get out."
"Stefan..."
"Matt." The green eyes were dark and burning, and Matt found he could not look away from them. "Is Elena safe? Good. Then, take care of her. Please."
"Stefan, what are you talking about? You're innocent; this will all blow over..."
"Just take care of her, Matt."
Matt stepped back, still looking into those compelling green eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I will," he said quietly. And watched Stefan go.
Chapter Thirteen
Elena stood within the circle of adults and police, waiting for a chance to escape. She knew that Matt had warned Stefan in time-his face told her that-but he hadn't been able to get close enough to speak with her.
At last, with all attention turned toward the body, she detached herself from the group and edged toward Matt.
"Stefan got out all right," he said, his eyes on the group of adults. "But he told me to take care of you, and I want you to stay here."
"To take care of me?" Alarm and suspicion flashed through Elena. Then, almost in a whisper, she said, "I see." She thought a moment and then spoke carefully. "Matt, I need to go wash my hands. Bonnie got blood on me. Wait here; I'll be back."
He started to say something in protest, but she was already moving away. She held up her stained hands in explanation as she reached the door of the girls' locker room, and the teacher who was now standing there let her through. Once in the locker room, however, she kept on going, right out the far door and into the darkened school. And from there, into the night.
Zuccone! Stefan thought, grabbing a bookcase and flinging it over, sending its contents flying. Fool!
Blind, hateful fool. How could he have been so stupid?
Find a place with them here? Be accepted as one of them? He must have been mad to have thought it was possible.
He picked up one of the great heavy trunks and threw it across the room, where it crashed against the far wall, splintering a window. Stupid,stupid .
Who was after him? Everybody. Matt had said it. "There's been another attack... They think you did it."
Well, for once it looked as if the barbari , the petty living humans with their fear of anything unknown, were right. How else did you explain what had happened? He had felt the weakness, the spinning, swirling confusion; and then darkness had taken him. When he'd awakened it was to hear Matt saying that another human had been pillaged, assaulted. Robbed this time not only of his blood, but of his life. How did you explainthat unless he, Stefan, were the killer?
A killer was what he was. Evil. A creature born in the dark, destined to live and hunt and hide there forever. Well, why not kill, then? Why not fulfill his nature? Since he could not change it, he might as well revel in it. He would unleash his darkness upon this town that hated him, that hunted him even now.
But first... he was thirsty. His veins burned like a network of dry, hot wires. He needed to feed... soon... now.
The boarding house was dark. Elena knocked at the door but received no answer. Thunder cracked overhead. There was still no rain.
After the third barrage of knocking, she tried the door, and it opened. Inside, the house was silent and pitch black. She made her way to the staircase by feel and went up it.
The second landing was just as dark, and she stumbled, trying to find the bedroom with the stairway to the third floor. A faint light showed at the top of the stairs, and she climbed toward it, feeling oppressed by the walls, which seemed to close in on her from either side.
The light came from beneath the closed door. Elena tapped on it lightly and quickly. "Stefan," she whispered, and then she called more loudly, "Stefan, it's me."
No answer. She grasped the knob and pushed the door open, peering around the side. "Stefan-"
She was speaking to an empty room.
And a room filled with chaos. It looked as if some great wind had torn through, leaving destruction in its path. The trunks that had stood in corners so sedately were lying at grotesque angles, their lids gaping open, their contents strewn about the floor. One window was shattered. All Stefan's possessions, all the things he had kept so carefully and seemed to prize, were scattered like rubbish.
Terror swept through Elena. The fury, the violence in this scene of devastation were painfully clear, and they made her feel almost giddy. Somebody who has a history of violence, Tyler had said. I don't care, she thought, anger surging up to push back the fear. I don't care about anything, Stefan; I still want to see you. But where are you?