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"Enough!" A female voice sliced through the montage in my mind. Immediately, the vampires let go of my hands and feet. My eyes sprang open, and I saw a woman gliding through a narrow wooden door in the back. Her long blond hair descended in a single plait down her back, and she wore mens black pants and suspenders. She was tall, though slight as a child, and all the other vampires shrank away from her in fear.
"You," she said, kneeling next to me. "Who are you?" Her amber eyes gazed into mine. They were clear and curious, but there was something about them--the darkness of the pupils, perhaps--that seemed ancient and knowing, which stood in sharp contrast to her rosy-cheeked, unlined face.
"Stefan Salvatore," I answered her.
"Stefan Salvatore," she repeated in a perfect Italian accent. Although teasing, her voice didnt seem unkind. She ran a finger gently along my jaw, then placed her palm against my chest and she pressed me against the wall, hard. The suddenness of the movement stunned me, but as I sat, pinned and helpless, she brought her other wrist to her mouth, using her fang to puncture the vein. She dragged her wrist along her teeth, creating a small stream of blood.
"Drink," she commanded, bringing her wrist to my lips.
I did as I was told, managing to get a few drops of the liquid down my throat before she yanked her hand away. "Thats enough. That should fix your wounds at any rate. "
"He and his brother have been wreaking havoc all over town," the large vampire said, his makeshift stake pointed at me like a rifle.
"Just me," I said quickly. "My brother had no part in it. " Damon would never survive the wrath of these demons. Not in his weakened state.
The blond vampire wrinkled her nose as she leaned even closer toward me.
"Youre what, a week old?" she asked, leaning back on her heels.
"Almost two weeks," I said defiantly, lifting my chin.
She nodded, a hint of a smile on her lips, and stood, surveying the shop. The plaster wall was partially caved in, and blood smeared the floor and speckled the walls, as though a child had stood in the center of the room and twirled around with a wet paintbrush. She tsked, and the three male vampires simultaneously took a step back. I shivered.
"Percy, come here, and bring that knife," she said.
With a sigh, the youngest vampire produced a long carving knife from behind his back.
"He wasnt following the rules," he said petulantly, reminding me of the Giffin boys back home. They were both bullies, always ready to kick a kid in the schoolyard and then turn around and tell a teacher they had nothing to do with it.
She took the knife and stared at it, running the pad of her index finger over the gleaming blade. Then she held it back out to Percy. He hesitated a moment, but finally stepped forward to take it. Just then the girls canines elongated and her eyes flushed bloodred. With a growl, she stabbed Percy right in the chest. He fell to his knees, doubled over in silent agony.
"You hunt this vampire for making a scene in town," she seethed, stabbing the knife in farther, "and yet you attempt to destroy him in this public space, in this shop? Youre just as foolish as he is. "
The young vampire staggered to his feet. Blood streamed down the front of his shirt, as though hed spilled coffee on himself. He grimaced as he pulled the knife out with a sucking sound. "Im sorry," he gasped.
"Thank you. " The woman held her wrist toward Percys mouth. Despite her youthful look and apparently violent temper, she also had a mothering quality that the other vampires seemed to accept, as if her stabbings were as normal to them as a light swat would be to a high-spirited child.
She turned toward me. "Im sorry for your troubles, Stefan. Now, can I help you be on your way?" she asked.
I looked around wildly. Id thought no further ahead than escaping this room. "I "
". . . dont have anywhere to go," she said with a sigh, finishing my thought. She glanced toward the other vampires, who were now huddled in the corner of the room, heads bent in conversation.
"Ill just be going," I said, struggling to my feet. My leg was fine, but my arms shook, and my breath came erratically. With local vampires watching my every move, where would I go? How would I feed?
"Nonsense, youre coming with us," she said, turning on her heel and walking out the door. She pointed to the young vampire and the one who wore glasses. "Percy and Hugo, stay and clean this place up. "
I had to practically run to keep up with her and the tall, scarred vampire whod watched my torture. "Youll need someone to show you around," she explained, pausing only slightly. "This is Buxton," she said, grabbing the elbow of the vampire with the long scar.
We walked down street after street until we neared a church with a tall spire.
"Were here," she said, turning sharply to enter a wrought-iron gate. Her boots echoed against a slate path that led to the rear of a house. She opened the door, and a musty scent greeted me. Buxton immediately walked through the parlor and up a set of stairs, leaving me and the young female vampire alone in the darkness.
"Welcome ho
me," she said, spreading her hands wide. "There are plenty of spare rooms upstairs. Find one that suits you. "
"Thank you. " As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I took in my surroundings. Black velvet curtains fastened with golden rope blocked every window. Dust motes floated in the air, and gilt-framed paintings covered the walls. The furniture was threadbare, and I could just make out two sweeping staircases with what looked like oriental runners and, in the next room, a piano. Though at one point this must have been a grand house, now the soiled walls were cracked and peeling, and cobwebs draped over the gold-and-crystal chandelier above us.
