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L. J. Smith

The Vampire Diaries

The Return: Vol. 3 Midnight

For Anne, the animal-whisperer

With thanks to the real Princess Jessalyn, and to Louise Beaudry for her help

with French translations.

Contents

Elena Gilbert put down the pen reluctantly. Shutting her diary…

Elena couldn’t have been out for more than a few…

Damon leaped. Somewhere in the middle of the leap Elena…

“First,” Meredith asked, “is Damon right? If you go back…

“I thought you wanted to get out so we could…

Bonnie couldn’t get to sleep after Damon’s words to her.

Bonnie was in her new first-floor bedroom, and was feeling…

Damon nodded thoughtfully, glancing back and forth between the fighting…

Damon dropped his hand. He simply couldn’t make himself do…

Damon was making his way up the beautiful rose-covered trellis…

When M. le Princess Jessalyn D’Aubigne had drunk her fill of…

“Stefan. Stefan!” Elena had been too nervous to stay out…

Elena, sleeping serenely with one hand locked onto Stefan’s, knew…

The next morning Elena noticed that Meredith still looked pale…

Bonnie woke slowly, coming up from some dark place.

“Once upon a time,” began Bonnie, “there were a young…

Meredith and Matt were sitting at the breakfast table, which…

After breakfast Matt went online to find two stores, neither…

Bonnie decided, with seconds precious and seeming to stretch for…

Meredith usually found her parents funny and silly and dear.

Someone was still knocking on Stefan’s door.

“Mama said not in Fell’s Church,” Mrs. Flowers repeated to Stefan.

In the car, Matt sat by the sleeping Meredith with…

Stefan woke early. He spent the time from dawn until…

“Sleeping in the storage room with every wall covered in…

“Now you know how it’s done?” Elena asked Meredith. “You…

Stefan whirled around and saw Bonnie, with only a towel…

Elena was nodding slowly. “It would work with what happened…

“Oi!” Damon shouted from outside the palanquin. “Is anybody else…

“Strip to your underwear and get in on the other…

Elena woke up feeling stiff and cramped. But that wasn’t…

“Damon doesn’t mean to be such a—a bastard,” Bonnie said…

Elena was waiting for the fog to disperse. It had…

“You’ve been fed and taken care of as best as…

Elena felt as if she had been doing nothing in…

Matt broke a lot of traffic rules on the way…

Then Meredith saw something that was not smoke or fire.

Damon had stopped and was kneeling behind an enormous broken…

Elena clutched the child to her. Damon had understood, even…

But after an endless time in the soft, kind darkness,…

Stefan didn’t move or speak for long moments. Elena’s heart…

“It’s not a problem,” the fair ruler, Ryannen, said unexpectedly.

“Elena?” Stefan said quietly. “Could you ask me to come…

On the smallest moon of the Nether World fine ash…

About the Author

Other Books by L. J. Smith

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

“D ear Diary,

I’m so frightened I can hardly hold this pen. I’m printing rather than writing in

cursive, because that way I have more control.

What am I terrified of, you ask? And when I say “of Damon” you don’t believe

the answer, not if you’d seen the two of us a few days ago. But to understand,

you have to know a few facts.

Have you ever heard the phrase “All bets are off”?

It means that anything, anything, can happen. So that even somebody who

figures out odds and takes bets from people gives them back their money.

Because a wild card has entered the situation. You can’t even figure the odds to

take a bet.

That’s where I am. That’s why my heart is pounding in my throat and head and

ears and fingertips in fear.

All bets are off.

You can see how shaky even my printing is. Suppose my hands shake like

this when I go in to see him? I might drop the tray. I might annoy Damon. And

then anything might happen.

I’m not explaining this right. What I should be saying is that we’re back: Damon

and Meredith and Bonnie and me. We went to the Dark Dimension and now

we’re home again, with a star ball —and Stefan.

Stefan was tricked into going there by Shinichi and Misao, the brother and

sister kitsune, or evil fox-spirits, who told him that if he went to the Dark

Dimension he could get the curse of being a vampire removed and become

human again.

They lied.

All they did was leave him in a stinking prison, with no food, no light, no

warmth…until he was at the point of death.

But Damon—who was so different back then—agreed to lead us to try to find

him. And, oh, I can’t even begin to describe the Dark Dimension itself. But the

important thing is that we finally found Stefan, and that by then we’d found the

Twin Fox key we needed to release him. But—he was a skeleton, poor boy. We

carried him out of the prison on his pallet, which later Matt burned; it was so

infested with creepy-crawlies. But that night we gave him a bath and put him to

bed…and then we fed him. Yes, with our blood. All the humans did it except Mrs.

Flowers, who was busy making poultices for where his poor bones were almost

sticking out of his skin.

They had starved him to that point! I could kill Them with my own hands—or

my Wings Powers—if only I could use them properly. But I can’t. I know there is a

spell for Wings of Destruction, but I have no idea how to summon it.

At least I got to see how Stefan blossomed when being fed with human blood. (I

admit that I gave him a few extra feedings that weren’t on his chart, and I’d have

to be an idiot not to know that my blood is different from other people’s—it’s

much richer and it did Stefan amazing amounts of good.)

And so Stefan recovered enough that the next morning he was able to walk

downstairs to thank Mrs. Flowers for her potions!

The rest of us, though—all the humans—were totally exhausted. We didn’t

even think about what had happened to the bouquet, because we didn’t know it

had anything special in it. We’d gotten it just as we were leaving the Dark

Dimension, from a kind white kitsune who’d been in the cell across from Stefan’s

before we arranged a jailbreak. He was so beautiful! I never knew a kitsune

could be kind. But he had given Stefan these flowers.

Anyway, that morning Damon was up. Of course, he couldn’t contribute any of

his own blood, but I honestly think he would have, if he could. That was the way

he was back then.

And that’s why I don’t understand how I can feel the fear I feel now. How can

you be terrified of someone who’s kissed you and kissed you…and called you

his darling and his sweetheart and his princess? And who has laughed with you

with his eyes dancing with mischief? And who’s held you when you were

frightened, and told you there was nothing to be afraid of, not while he was there?

Someone you only had to glance at to know what he was thinking? Someone

who has protected you, no matter what the cost to himself, for days on end?

I know Damon. I know his faults, but I also know what he’s like inside. And he’s

not what he wants people to think he is. He’s not cold, or arrogant, or cruel.

Those are façades he puts on to cover himself, like clothes.

The problem is that I’m not sure he knows he isn’t any of these things. And

right now he’s all mixed-up. He might change and become all of them—because

he’s so confused.

What I’m trying to say is, that morning only Damon was really awake. He was

the only one who saw the bouquet. And one of the things Damon definitely is, is

curious.

So he unwrapped all the magical wards from it and it had a single pitch-black

rose in the center. Damon has been trying to find a black rose for years, just to

admire it, I think. But when he saw this one he smelled it…and boom! The rose

disappeared!

And suddenly he was sick and dizzy and he couldn’t smell anything and all his

other senses were dulled as well. That was when Sage—oh, I haven’t even

mentioned Sage, but he’s a tall bronze gorgeous hunk of a vampire who’s been

such a good friend to all of us—told him to suck in air and to hold it, to push it

down into his lungs.

Humans have to breathe that way, you see.

I don’t know how long it took Damon to realize that he really was a human, no

joke, nothing anyone could do about it. The black rose had been for Stefan; and

it would have given him his dream of being human again. But when Damon

realized it had worked its magic on him…

That’s when I saw him look at me and lump me in with the rest of my species—

a species he’s come to hate and scorn.

Since then I haven’t dared look him in the eye again. I know he loved me just

days ago. I didn’t know that love could turn to—well, to all the things he feels now

about himself.

You’d think it would be easy for Damon to become a vampire again. But he

wants to be as powerful a vampire as he used to be—and there isn’t anyone like

that to exchange blood with him. Even Sage disappeared before Damon could

ask him. So Damon is stuck like this until he finds some strong, powerful, and

prestigious vampire to go through the whole process of changing him.

And every time I look into Stefan’s eyes, those jewel-green eyes that are warm

with trust and gratitude—I feel terror, too. Terror that somehow he’ll be snatched

away again—right out of my arms. And…terror that he’ll find out how I’ve come to

feel about Damon. I hadn’t even realized myself how much Damon has come to

mean to me. And I can’t…stop…my feeling…for him, even if he hates me now.

And, yes, damn it, I’m crying! In a minute, I have to go take him his dinner. He

must be starving, but when Matt tried to take him something earlier today,

Damon threw the whole tray at him.

Oh, please, God, please don’t let him hate me!

I’m being selfish, I know, in just talking about what’s going on with Damon and

me. I mean, things in Fell’s Church are worse than ever. Every day more

children become possessed and terrify their parents. Every day, parents get

angrier with their possessed children. I don’t even want to think about what’s

going on. If something doesn’t change, the whole place will be destroyed like the

last town Shinichi and Misao visited.

Shinichi…he made a lot of predictions about our group, about things we’ve

kept secret from the others. But the truth is, I don’t know if I want to hear any of

his riddles solved.

We’re lucky in one way. We have the Saitou family to help us. You remember

Isobel Saitou, who pierced herself so horribly while she was possessed? Since

she’s gotten better, she’s become a good friend, and her mother, Mrs. Saitou,

and her grandmother, Obaasan, too. They give us amulets—spells to keep evil

away, written on Post-it Notes or little cards. We’re so grateful for that kind of

help. Someday maybe we can repay them all.

Elena Gilbert put down the pen reluctantly. Shutting her diary meant having to face

the things she had been writing about.

Somehow, though, she managed to make herself walk downstairs to the kitchen

and take the dinner tray from Mrs. Flowers, who smiled encouragingly at her.

As she set out for the boardinghouse’s storage room, she noticed that her hands

were trembling so that the entire tray of food she was carrying jingled. Since there

was no access to the storage room from inside, anyone who wanted to see Damon

had to go out the front door and around to the addition tacked on near the kitchen

garden. Damon’s lair, people were calling it now.

As she passed the garden Elena glanced sideways at the hole in the middle of

the angelica patch that was the powered-down Gateway where they’d come back

from the Dark Dimension.

She hesitated at the storage room door. She was still trembling, and she knew

that was not the right way to face Damon.

Just relax, she told herself. Think of Stefan.

Stefan had had a grim setback when he’d found that there was nothing left of the

rose, but he had soon recovered his usual humility and grace, touching Elena’s

cheek and saying that he was thankful just to be there with her. That this closeness

was all he asked of life. Clean clothes, decent food— freedom —all these were

worth fighting for, but Elena was the most important. And Elena had cried.

On the other hand, she knew that Damon had no intention of remaining as he

now was. He might do anything, risk anything…to change himself back.

It had actually been Matt who had suggested the star ball as a solution for

Damon’s condition. Matt hadn’t understood either the rose or the star ball until it

was explained that this star ball, which was probably Misao’s, contained within it

most or all of her Power, and that it had become more brilliant as it absorbed the

lives that she took. The black rose had probably been created with a liquid from a

similar star ball—but no one knew how much or whether it was combined with

unknown ingredients. Matt had frowned and asked, if the rose could change a

vampire to a human, could a star ball change a human to a vampire?

Elena hadn’t been the only one to see the slow rising of Damon’s bent head, and

the glimmer in his eyes as they traveled the length of the room to the star ball filled

with Power. Elena could practically hear his logic. Matt might be totally off track…

but there was one place a human could be sure to find powerful vampires. In the

Dark Dimension—to which there was a Gateway in the boardinghouse’s garden.

The Gateway was closed right now…for lack of Power.

Unlike Stefan, Damon would have absolutely no qualms about what would happen

if he had to use all the star ball’s liquid, which would result in the death of Misao.

After all, she was one of the two foxes who had abandoned Stefan to be tortured.

So all bets were off.

Okay, you’re scared; now deal with it, Elena told herself fiercely. Damon’s been

in that room for almost fifty hours now—and who knows what he’s been plotting to

do to get hold of the star ball. Still, somebody’s got to get him to eat—and when you

say “somebody,” face it, it’s you.

Elena had been standing at the door so long that her knees were starting to lock.

She took a deep breath and knocked.

There was no answer, and no light went on inside. Damon was human. It was

quite dark outside now.

“Damon?” It was meant to be a call. It came out a whisper.

No answer. No light.

Elena swallowed. He had to be in there.

Elena knocked harder. Nothing. Finally, she tried the knob. To her horror it was

unlocked, and it swung open to reveal an interior as dark as the night around Elena,

like the maw of a pit.

The fine hairs at the back of Elena’s neck were standing up.

“Damon, I’m coming in,” she managed in a bare whisper, as if to convince

herself by her quietness that there was nobody there. “I’ll be silhouetted against the

very edge of the porch light. I can’t see anything, so you have all the advantages.

I’m carrying a tray with very hot coffee, cookies, and steak tartar, no seasonings.

You should be able to smell the coffee.”

It was odd, though. Elena’s senses told her that there was no one standing

directly in front of her, waiting for her to literally run into him. All right, she thought.

Start with baby steps. Step one. Step two. Step three—I must be well into the room

now, but it’s still too dim to see anything. Step four…

A strong arm came out of the darkness and locked in an iron grip around her

waist, and a knife pressed against her throat.

Elena saw blackness shot with a sudden gray network, after which the dark

closed in overwhelmingly.

E lena couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds. When she came to,

everything was the same—although she wondered how she hadn’t lethally cut her

own throat on the knife.

She knew that the tray with the dishes and cup had gone flying into the darkness

in that first instant when she couldn’t help flinging out her arms. But now she

recognized the grip, she recognized the scent, and she understood the reason for

the knife. And she was glad that she did, because she was about as proud of

fainting as Sage would have been of doing it. She wasn’t a fainter!

Now she willed herself to sag in Damon’s arms, except for where the knife was.

To show him that she was no threat.

“Hello, princess,” a voice like black velvet said into her ear. Elena felt an inner

shiver—but not of fear. No, it was more as if her insides were melting. But he didn’t

change his grasp on her.

“Damon…” she said huskily, “I’m here to help you. Please let me. For your sake.”

As abruptly as it had come, the iron grip was withdrawn from her waist. The knife

stopped pressing into her flesh, although the sharp, stinging feeling at her throat

was quite enough to remind her that Damon would have it ready. Substitute fangs.

There was a click, and suddenly the room was too bright.

Slowly, Elena turned to look at Damon. And even now, even when he was pale

and rumpled and haggard from not eating, he was so gorgeous that her heart

seemed to plummet into darkness. His black hair, falling every which way over his

forehead; his perfect, carven features; his arrogant, sensual mouth—right now

compressed into a brooding line…

“Where is it, Elena?” he asked briefly. Not what. Where. He knew she wasn’t

stupid, and, of course, he knew the humans in the boardinghouse were hiding the

star ball from him deliberately.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” Elena whispered.

She saw the helpless softening in his eyes, and he took one step toward her as if

he couldn’t help himself, but the next instant he looked grim. “Tell me, and then

maybe I’ll have more.”

“I…see. Well, then, we made a system, two days ago,” Elena said quietly.

“Everyone draws lots for it. Then the person who gets the paper with the X takes it

from the center of the kitchen table and everyone goes to their rooms and stays

there until the person with the star ball hides it. I didn’t get the lot today, so I don’t

know where it is. But you can try to—test me.” Elena could feel her body cringing as

she said the last words, feeling soft and helpless and easily hurt.

Damon reached over and slowly slipped a hand beneath her hair. He could slam

her head against a wall, or throw her across the room. He could simply squeeze

her neck between knife and hand until her head fell off. Elena knew that he was in

the mood to take out his emotions on a human, but she did nothing. Said nothing.

Just stood and looked into her eyes.

Slowly, Damon bent toward her and brushed his lips—so softly—against hers.

Elena’s eyes drifted shut. But the next moment Damon winced and slid the hand

back out of her hair.

That was when Elena gave another thought as to what must have become of the

food she had been bringing to him. Near-scalding coffee seemed to have splashed

her hand and arm and soaked her jeans on one thigh. The cup and saucer were

laying in pieces on the floor. The tray and the cookies had bounced off behind a

chair. The plate of steak tartar, however, had miraculously landed on the couch,

right side up. There was miscellaneous cutlery everywhere.

Elena felt her head and shoulders droop in fear and pain. That was her

immediate universe right now—fear and pain. Overwhelming her. She wasn’t

usually a crier, but she couldn’t help the tears that filled her eyes.

Damn! Damon thought.

It was her. Elena. He’d been so certain an adversary was spying on him, that

one of his many enemies had tracked him down and was setting a trap…someone

who had discovered that he was as weak as a child now.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that it might be her, until he was holding her soft

body with one arm, and smelling the perfume of her hair as he held an ice-slick

blade to her throat with the other.

And then he’d snapped on a light and saw what he had already guessed.

Unbelievable! He hadn’t recognized her. He had been outside in the garden when

he’d seen the door to the storage room standing open and had known that there

was an intruder. But with his senses degraded as they were he hadn’t been able to

tell who was inside.

No excuses could cover up the facts. He had hurt and terrified Elena. He had

hurt her. And instead of apologizing he had tried to force the truth out of her for his

own selfish desires.

And now, her throat…

His eyes were drawn to the thin line of red droplets on Elena’s throat where the

knife had cut her when she’d jerked in fear before collapsing right onto it. Had she

fainted? She could have died right then, in his arms, if he hadn’t been fast enough

in whipping the knife away.

He kept telling himself that he wasn’t afraid of her. That he was just holding the

knife absentmindedly. He wasn’t convinced.

“I was outside. You know how we humans can’t see?” he said, knowing he

sounded indifferent, unrepentant. “It’s like being wrapped in cotton all the time,

Elena: We can’t see, can’t smell, can’t hear. My reflexes are like a tortoise’s, and

I’m starving. ”

“Then why don’t you try my blood?” Elena asked, sounding unexpectedly calm.

“I can’t,” Damon said, trying not to eye the dainty ruby necklace flowing down

Elena’s slim white throat.

“I already cut myself,” Elena said, and Damon thought, Cut herself? Ye gods, the

girl was priceless. As if she’d had a little kitchen accident.

“So we might as well see what human blood tastes like to you now,” Elena said.

“No.”

“You know that you’re going to. I know you know. But we don’t have much time.

My blood won’t flow forever. Oh, Damon—after everything…just last week—”

He was looking at her too long, he knew. Not just at the blood. At the glorious

golden beauty of her, as if the child of a sunbeam and a moonbeam had entered

his room and was harmlessly bathing him in light.

With a hiss, narrowing his eyes, Damon took hold of Elena’s arms. He expected

an automatic recoil like the one when he’d grabbed her from behind. But there was

no movement backward. Instead there was something like the leap of an eager

flame in those wide malachite eyes. Elena’s lips parted involuntarily.

He knew it was involuntarily. He’d had many years to study young women’s

responses. He knew what it meant when her gaze went first to his lips before lifting

to his eyes.

I can’t kiss her again. I can’t. It’s a human weakness, the way she affects me.

She doesn’t realize what it is to be so young and so impossibly beautiful. She’s

going to learn someday. In fact, I might accidentally teach her now.

As if she could hear him, Elena shut her eyes. She let her head fall back and

suddenly Damon found himself half-supporting her weight. She was surrendering all

thought of herself, showing him that despite everything she still trusted him, still…

…still loved him.

Damon himself didn’t know what he was going to do as he bent toward her. He

was starving. It tore at him like a wolf’s claws, the hunger. It made him feel dazed

and dizzy and out of control. Half a thousand years had left him believing that the

only thing that would relieve the starvation was the crimson fountain of a cut artery.

Some dark voice that might have come from the Infernal Court itself whispered that

he could do what some vampires did, ripping a throat like a werewolf. Warm flesh

might ease the starvation of a human. What would he do, so close to Elena’s lips,

so close to her bleeding throat?

Two tears slipped from under the dark lashes and slid a little way down her face

before dropping into golden hair. Damon found himself tasting one before he could

think.

Still a maiden. Well, that was to be expected; Stefan was too weak to stand yet.

But on top of the cynical thought came an image, and just a few words: a spirit as

pure as driven snow.

He suddenly knew a different hunger, a different thirst. The only place to ease

this need was close by. Desperately, urgently, he sought and found Elena’s lips.

And then he found himself losing all control. What he needed most was here, and

Elena might tremble, but she didn’t push him away.

This close, he was bathed in an aura as golden as the hair he was touching

gently at the ends. He was pleased himself when she shivered in pleasure, and he

realized that he could sense her thoughts. She was a strong projector, and his

telepathy was the only Power left to him. He had no idea why he still had it, but he

did. And right now he wanted to tune into Elena.

The wench! She wasn’t thinking at all! Elena had been offering her throat, truly

surrendering herself, abandoning all thought but that she wanted to aid him, that his

wishes were hers. And now she was too deeply enmeshed in the kiss to even make

plans—which was extraordinary for her.

She’s in love with you, the tiny part of him that could still think said.

She’s never said so! She’s in love with Stefan! something visceral answered.

She doesn’t have to say it. She’s showing it. Don’t pretend you haven’t seen it

before!

But Stefan—!

Is she thinking about Stefan in the slightest right now? She opened her arms to

the wolf-hunger in you. This is no one-day stand, no quick meal, not even a steady

donor. This is Elena herself.

Then I’ve taken advantage of her. If she’s in love, she can’t protect herself.

She’s still a child. I have to do something.

The kisses had now gotten to the point that even the tiny voice of reason was

fading. Elena had lost her ability to stand. He was either going to have to put her

down somewhere, or give her a chance to back out.

Elena! Elena! Damn it, I know you can hear me. Answer!

Damon? —faintly. Oh, Damon, now do you understand—?

Too well, my princess. I Influenced you, so I should know.

You…? No, you’re lying!

Why should I lie? For some reason my telepathy is as strong as ever. I still

want what I want. But you might want to think a minute, maiden. I don’t need to

drink your blood. I’m human and right now I’m ravenous. But not for that mess of

bloody hamburger you brought me.

Elena broke away from him. Damon let her go.