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"Kill them?" Father asked, finishing my thought. He pulled the reins on his horse. "There are methods. I've been learning. I've heard there's a priest in Richmond who can try to exorcise them, but then people in town know . . . some things," he finished. "Jonathan Gilbert and Sheriff Forbes and I have discussed some preliminary measures. " "If there's anything I can do . . . ," I offered finally, unsure what to say.
"Of course," Father said brusquely. "I expect you to be part of our committee. For starters, I've been talking to Cordelia. She knows her herbs, and she says there's a plant called vervain. " Father's hand fluttered to the flower on his lapel. "We will come up with a plan. And we will prevail. Because while they may have immortality, we have God on our side. It is kill or be killed. Do you understand me, boy? This is the war you're being drafted to fight. "
I nodded, feeling the full weight of the responsibility on my shoulders. Maybe this was what I was meant to be doing: not getting married or going off to war, but fighting an unnatural evil. I met Father's gaze. "I'll do whatever you want," I said. "Anything. " The last thing I saw before I galloped back to the stable was the huge grin on Father's face. "I knew you would, son. Y are a true Salvatore. "
Chapter 13
I walked back to my room, unsure what to think. Vampiros. Vampires. The word sounded wrong, no matter what language it was in. Coyotes. That was a word that made sense. After all, a coyote was just like a wolf, a wild animal drawn to the confusing tangle of the deep Virginia woods. If Rosalyn was killed by a coyote, it would be tragic, but understandable. But for Rosalyn to be killed by a demon?
I laughed, the sound coming out like a short bark as I strode into my bedroom and sat with my head in my hands. My headache had returned with renewed vigor, and I remembered Emily's request that I not eat Cordelia's cooking. On top of everything else, it seemed the servants were turning on each other.
Suddenly, I heard three soft raps on the door. The sound was so slight it might be the wind, which had shown no sign of stopping since we got back from the woods.
"Hello?" I called hesitantly.
The raps started again, more insistently this time. On the other side of the room, the cotton curtains blew violently in the wind.
"Alfred?" I called, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Father's tale had definitely affected me. "I won't be needing dinner," I called affected me. "I won't be needing dinner," I called loudly.
I grabbed a letter opener from my desk and held it behind my back as I headed cautiously toward the door. But just as I placed my hand on the doorknob, the door began to swing inward.
"This isn't funny!" I called, half hysterical, when all of a sudden, a figure in pale blue slipped into the room.
Katherine.
"Good, because humor has never been one of my strong points," Katherine said, her smile revealing her straight, white teeth.
"I'm sorry. " I blushed and hastily dropped the letter opener onto the desk. "I'm just . . . "
"Y ou're still recovering. " Katherine's brown eyes locked with my own. "I'm sorry to startle you. " She sat down on the center of my bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Y our brother's worried about you. "
"Oh . . . ," I stammered. I couldn't believe that Katherine Pierce had come into my bedroom and was sitting on my bed, as if it were perfectly normal. No woman, except my mother and Cordelia, had ever been in my sleeping chambers. I was suddenly embarrassed by my muddy boots in one corner, the pile of china dishes in another, and the Shakespeare volume still open on the desk.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Katherine asked.
I stood at the door, clutching the brass doorknob. "Maybe?" I asked hesitantly.
"Come closer and I'll tell you. " She beckoned me with her finger. Townspeople were scandalized if a couple went walking to the Wickery Bridge without a chaperone. But here Katherine was without a chaperone--or stockings, for that matter --perched on my bed, asking me to join her there.
There was no way I could resist that.
I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. Immediately she flipped onto her hands and knees and crawled over to me. Pushing her hair over one shoulder, she cupped my ear with her hand.
"My secret is that I've been worried about you, too," she whispered.
Her breath was unnaturally cold against my cheek. My leg muscles twitched. I knew I should demand that she leave, right away. But instead I inched closer to her.
"Really?" I whispered.
"Yes," Katherine murmured, looking deep into my eyes. "Y need to forget Rosalyn. "
ou
I shivered and glanced away from Katherine's dark-brown eyes toward the window, watching a fast-moving summer storm sweep in.
Katherine took my chin in her ice-cold hands and turned my eyes back to hers. "Rosalyn is dead," she continued, her face full of sorrow and kindness. "But you aren't. Rosalyn wouldn't have wanted you to shut yourself away like a criminal. No one would want that for their betrothed, don't you agree?"
I nodded slowly. Even though Damon had told me the same thing, the words made infinitely more sense when coming from Katherine's mouth.
