Phantom Read Free

life—he knew that with a hard certainty that gnawed at his insides. He had brought Katherine to Fell’s Church, and Katherine had destroyed Elena. This time he would make sure Elena was protected.
    With one last glance at Mrs. Flowers in her garden, he squared his shoulders and walked into the woods. Birds sang at the sun-dappled edges of the forest, but Stefan was headed much deeper in, where ancient oaks grew and the underbrush was thick. Where no one would see him, where he could hunt.
    Stopping in a small clearing several miles in, Stefan took off his sunglasses and listened. From nearby came the soft crackle of something moving beneath a bush. He concentrated, reaching out with his mind. It was a rabbit, its heart beating rapidly, looking for its own morning meal.
    Stefan focused his mind on it. Come to me, he thought, gently and persuasively. He sensed the rabbit stiffen for a moment; then it hopped slowly out from under a bush, its eyes glassy.
    It came toward him docilely and, with an extra mental nudge from Stefan, stopped at his feet. Stefan scooped it up and turned it over to reach the tender throat, where its pulse fluttered. With a silent apology to the animal, Stefan gave himself over to his hunger, allowing his fangs to click into place. He tore into the rabbit’s throat, drinking the blood slowly, trying not to wince at the taste.
    While the kitsune had threatened Fell’s Church, Elena, Bonnie, Meredith, and Matt had insisted he feed on them, knowing human blood would keep him as strong as possible for the fight. Their blood had been almost otherworldly: Meredith’s fiery and strong; Matt’s pure and wholesome; Bonnie’s sweet as dessert; Elena’s heady and invigorating. Despite the foul taste of the rabbit in his mouth, his canines prickled with remembered hunger.
    But now he wouldn’t drink human blood, he told himself firmly. He couldn’t keep crossing that line, even if they were willing. Not unless his friends’ safety was at risk. The change from human to animal blood would be painful; he remembered that from when he had first stopped drinking human blood—aching teeth, nausea, irritability, the feeling that he was starving even when his stomach was full—but it was the only option.
    When the rabbit’s heartbeat stopped altogether, Stefan gently disengaged. He held the limp body in his hands for a moment, then set it on the ground and covered it with leaves. Thank you, little one, he thought. He was still hungry, but he had already taken one life this morning.
    Damon would have laughed. Stefan could almost hear him. Noble Stefan, he would scoff, his black eyes narrowing in half-affectionate disdain. You’re missing all the best parts of being a vampire while you wrestle with your conscience, you fool .
    As if summoned by his thoughts, a crow cawed overhead. For a moment, Stefan fully expected the bird to plummet to earth and transform into his brother. When it didn’t, Stefan gave a short half laugh at his own stupidity and was surprised when it sounded almost like a sob.
    Damon was never coming back. His brother was gone. They’d had centuries of bitterness between them and had only just started to repair their relationship, joining together to fight the evil that always seemed drawn to Fell’s Church and to shield Elena from it. But Damon was dead, and now Stefan was the only one left to protect Elena and their friends.
    A latent worm of fear squirmed in his chest. There was so much that could go wrong. Humans were so vulnerable , and now that Elena had no special powers, she was as vulnerable as any of them.
    The thought sent him reeling, and immediately he took off, running straight toward Elena’s house on the other side of the woods. Elena was his responsibility now. And he would never let anything hurt her again.
    The upstairs landing was almost the same as Elena remembered it: shining dark wood with an Oriental carpet runner, a few little tables with knickknacks and