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"I wouldn't hurt him," Chloe said. Her eyes filled with tears and she angrily brushed them away with the back of her hand. "I'd never hurt Matt. "
Stefan turned the same sympathetic gaze on her. "I know you don't want to hurt him," he told her, "but I also know you can hear the rushing of Matt's blood as his heart pounds, that you can smell the overwhelming sweet blood-scent of him all around you. It's hard to think straight when he's near you, isn't it? Part of you just wants to tear into him, to rip at that soft skin of his throat, to find the vein that's so full of rich, warm blood, just there below his ear. "
Chloe clenched her jaw, but the white edge of a tooth slipped past the firm line of her mouth, cutting at her lip. With a shudder, Matt realized that Chloe's sharp vampire canines had descended while Stefan was talking, that she was ready to bite.
Steeling himself, Matt pushed down the instinct to run away from her and instead moved closer and put an arm across her shoulders.
"We'll get through this," he said firmly. Chloe took a deep, slow breath and then another, clearly trying to calm herself. After a moment, her shoulders relaxed a little and, looking at the looser set of her jaw, Matt thought that her teeth had gone back to normal.
"What else should we do?" Chloe asked Stefan, her voice determined.
Stefan shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He walked back to the doorway and looked out over the dark water of the lake. "In the end, the only thing that matters is that you really want to change," he said. "If you want it enough and if your willpower is strong enough, you will. I won't lie to you, it's not easy. "
"I do want to," Chloe said, her eyes shining with tears again. "I won't hurt anyone. That's not who I am, not even now. These last few days - I can't be that thing. " She closed her eyes, and the tears spilled over her lashes, running in silvery lines down her cheeks.
"You can't feed on anyone," Stefan warned her. "If Matt or anyone else gets hurt, even if you're sorry, I'll do what I need to do to protect the humans here. "
"You'll kill me," Chloe agreed, her voice thin. Her eyes were still closed, and she hugged herself, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. "It's okay," she said. "I don't want to live like that. "
"I'll take responsibility for her," Matt said, his voice sounding loud in his own ears. "I won't let anything bad happen. "
Chloe inched closer to him, seeming to find comfort under his arm. Matt held on to her. Chloe could be saved; he knew it. He hadn't been careful enough, hadn't realized what Ethan was. But Chloe wasn't lost to him, not yet.
"All right," Stefan said quietly, looking between them. "Good luck. " He shook hands with Matt and then he turned and was gone, faster than Matt's eyes could follow, no doubt headed back to Elena.
Chloe pressed against Matt's side and laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, her dark, curly hair soft where it touched his face. This was dangerous, a small unhappy knot in his stomach reminded him, and he didn't really know what he was doing.
But Chloe was breathing slowly beside him, and all he could think was: at least they had a chance.
"I'm fine, Bonnie," Zander said, half laughing. "I'm tough, remember? Supertough. I'm a hero. " He tugged on her hand, trying to pull her onto the bed beside him.
"You're hurt is what you are," Bonnie said sharply. "Don't try that macho stuff on me. " She pulled her hand away and shoved an ice pack at him with her other hand. "Put that on your shoulder," she ordered.
They'd met up outside the library a little while after dawn, and she'd immediately seen that Zander was wounded. Back in his human form, he had seemed almost as graceful as always, running along with his Pack with his usual easy, loping stride, but he'd held himself aloof from the rest of the guys' playful shoving and tussling, the rough hands-on affection that was their default mode when they weren't on duty. As he'd stepped lightly out of range of Marcus's and Enrique's grappling arms and ducked away from Camden's hea
dlock, Bonnie had realized Zander must be hurting.
So she'd taken him to the cafeteria and filled him up with eggs and bacon and the sugary cereal he loved. They'd come back to Zander's dorm room and she'd gotten him to take his shirt off so she could examine the damage. Normally, Bonnie would have been happily ogling Zander's chiseled abs, but right now, the purple-black bruise beginning to bloom on his shoulder and stretch down his side was ruining the view.
"I'm not really hurt, Bonnie," Zander insisted. "You don't have to baby me. " He lay back on the bed, though, and didn't try to get up, so Bonnie figured that Zander was feeling a lot worse than he was willing to admit.
"I'll get you some ibuprofen," she said, and he didn't argue. She rummaged through his desk until she found the bottle and rattled the last couple of pills out into his hand, then brought him a bottle of water. Zander hitched himself up onto his elbows to swallow the pills and winced.
"Lie down," Bonnie told him. "If you promise to stay in bed and try to nap, I could go get you some of my special healing tea. "
Zander grinned at her. "Why don't you lie down with me?" he suggested. "I bet I'd feel a lot more comfortable with you here. " He patted the mattress next to him.
Bonnie hesitated. That was actually pretty tempting. She was about to snuggle up to him when a brisk knock came on the door.
Bonnie waved Zander back onto the bed as he started to rise. "I'll get it," she told him. "It's probably one of the guys. " Not that Zander's Packmates bothered to knock much, but maybe they were using their best manners, assuming Bonnie would be there.
Another sharp tap came as Bonnie crossed the room. "All right, hold your horses," she muttered, opening the door.
In the hallway, her hand raised to knock yet again, stood a complete stranger, a girl with hair cut in a long blond bob. Her small, precise features mirrored Bonnie's own surprise.
"Is Zander here?" the girl asked, frowning.
"Um," Bonnie said, feeling thrown. "Yeah, he's . . . "
