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But that was before his brother Damon had returned from the University. Before Damon had come
back and seen Katherine's jewel-blue eyes.
On his bed in the low-roofed room, Stefan moaned. Then the darkness drew him in deeper and new
images began to flicker through his mind.
They were scattered glimpses of the past that did not form a connected sequence. He saw them like
scenes briefly illuminated by flashes of lightning. His brother's face, twisted into a mask of inhuman
anger. Katherine's blue eyes sparkling and dancing as she pirouetted in her new white gown. The
glimmer of white behind a lemon tree. The feel of a sword in his hand; Giuseppe's voice shouting
from far away. The lemon tree. He must not go behind the lemon tree. He saw Damon's face again, but
this time his brother was laughing wildly. Laughing on and on, a sound like the grate of broken glass.
And the lemon tree was closer now…
"Damon – Katherine – no!"
He was sitting bolt upright on his bed.
He ran shaking hands through his hair and steadied his breath.
A terrible dream. It had been a long time since he had been tortured by dreams like that; long,
indeed, since he'd dreamed at all. The last few seconds played over and over again in his mind, and
he saw again the lemon tree and heard again his brother's laughter.
It echoed in his mind almost too clearly. Suddenly, without being aware of a conscious decision to
move, Stefan found himself at the open window. The night air Was cool on his cheeks as he looked
into the silvery dark.
"Damon?" He sent the thought out on a surge of Power, questing. Then he fell into absolute stillness,
listening with all his senses.
He could feel nothing, no ripple of response. Nearby, a pair of night birds rose in flight. In the town,
many minds were sleeping; in the woods, nocturnal animals went about their secret business.
He sighed and turned back into the room. Perhaps he'd been wrong about the laughter; perhaps he'd
even been wrong about the menace in the graveyard. Fell's Church was still, and peaceful, and he
should try to emulate it. He needed sleep.
September 5 (actually early September 6 – about 1:00 a.m.)
Dear Diary,
I should go back to bed soon. Just a few minutes ago I woke up thinking someone was shouting,
but now the house is quiet. So many strange things have happened tonight that my nerves are shot,
I guess.
At least I woke up knowing exactly what I'm going to do about Stefan. The whole thing just sort
of sprang into my mind. Plan B, Phase One, begins tomorrow.
Frances's eyes were blazing, and her cheeks were flushed with color as she approached the three
girls at the table.
"Oh, Elena, you've got to hear this!"
Elena smiled at her, polite but not too intimate. Frances ducked her brown head. "I mean… can I
join you? I've just heard the wildest thing about Stefan Salvatore."
"Have a seat," said Elena graciously. "But," she added, buttering a roll, "we're not really interested