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Zander changed back-always, Bonnie thought, a less painful-looking process than turning into a wolf-and rolled his shoulders, stretching. "She's good," he told Bonnie.
Alysia had her hand pressed against her chest and was breathing hard. "Oh my God," she gasped. "You control a werewolf?"
"What? No," Bonnie said. "I don't control him. "
"Don't listen to her," Zander said affably. "She totally owns me. "
"It sounds good," Bonnie said, ignoring her boyfriend. "I'd like to be able to channel more Power. " She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she'd sort of plateaued-she was handy with herbs and charms, and could work a finding or protection spell pretty well, but her Power hadn't grown much in the last few years. "When does it start?"
"Tomorrow," Alysia said. "I know it's short notice, but we had some trouble getting the whole group that we wanted together. "
"Tomorrow?" Bonnie shook her head, giving an incredulous little laugh. "I can't. I have a job. And Elena's in danger; I can't leave her now. "
Mrs. Flowers's lips thinned. "Your best chance of helping Elena is by expanding your Power. You need to give this serious consideration, Bonnie. "
"I don't-tomorrow's too soon," Bonnie said.
"I think you should go," Zander broke in unexpectedly. Bonnie turned to stare at him.
"You do?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I mean, obviously, I'd miss you like crazy, but this seems like something you need to do. You owe it to yourself to try. And the school year just ended, so you have time off work. "
Zander was right. Bonnie envisioned herself full of Power, protecting Elena, protecting everyone. In her imagination, she waved one hand and a shimmering, clear wall came down around her friends, separating them from danger.
She thought of how she'd felt the other day-that no one needed her, that she wasn't useful anymore in protecting Dalcrest from the supernatural. This was her chance.
"Okay," she said, turning to Alysia, who clapped her hands and smiled. Mrs. Flowers nodded approvingly. "I'm in. "
Chapter 9
"I can't believe Bonnie just took off like that," Elena said, swinging Stefan's hand as they walked. They'd had lunch with Meredith, but then she had gone to the law library to do some studying-law school seemed to mean constant deadlines-and now they were heading back to their apartment alone. Zander had driven Bonnie to the airport that morning.
"She'll be back," Stefan said. Bonnie had left them with as many safety provisions as she could: charm bags for their cars and apartments, herb mixtures to drink or scatter for protection. She must have been up all night making them.
"I know. But I'll still miss her. " Elena leaned against Stefan for a moment. "I just worry that someday . . . I'll lose her for good. And Aunt Judith told me the house is officially listed with the realtor now. She's looking for a place in Richmond. "
"Bonnie will be back," Stefan said reassuringly. "And your family won't be far away. "
"I know," Elena said, sighing. "But can you indulge my self-pity, please?"
"I'll indulge. " Stefan tugged her closer as they reached the building. "Let me distract you for a while. Tell me what we'll do once we get rid of Solomon. "
Hand in hand, they wandered through the double doors of their apartment building and started up the two flights of stairs.
"I'd like to go back to Paris," Elena said dreamily. "I spent the summer there just before we met, did you know that?"
Stefan, putting his key in the door, was about to answer-of course he knew that, he remembered everything Elena had ever told him, everything he'd ever been told about her-when he stopped.
"Stefan, what's wrong?" Elena asked, sounding worried, and he held up his hand to quiet her. He smelled blood.
"Stay here. " He heard Elena's heart begin to pound faster, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly before letting go. "There's blood in there. I need to check it out. " He carefully opened the front door and went inside. Everything looked normal, but the scent of blood grew stronger. Elena gave a faint, choked-off cry, and he knew that she could smell it now, too.
Gesturing at her to stay back, Stefan crept silently toward the kitchen, staying close to the wall. He sent tendrils of Power through the apartment, but found nothing-no one, human or otherwise, inside. But the smell of blood was overwhelming, hot and sticky and flooding through his senses. He felt his canines lengthening, beginning to ache, and his senses sharpened.
There were drops of blood scattered across the kitchen floor, leading toward the closed bedroom door.
Not just drops, he realized, as his heart sank. Paw prints.
