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Tyler tried to roll off, giggling suddenly, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated, almost useless. "Aw,
c'mon, Elena, don' be mad. I was jus' warmin' you up. Elena the Ice Princess, warmin' up… You're
gettin' warm now, aren' you?" Then Elena felt his mouth hot and wet on her face. She was still pinned
beneath him, and his sloppy kisses were moving down her throat. She heard cloth tear.
"Oops," Tyler mumbled. "Sorry 'bout that."
Elena twisted her head, and her mouth met Tyler's hand, clumsily caressing her cheek. She bit it,
sinking her teeth into the fleshy palm. She bit hard, tasting blood, hearing Tyler's agonized yowl. The
hand jerked away.
"Hey! I said I was sorry!" Tyler looked aggrievedly at his maimed hand. Then his face darkened, as,
still staring at it, he clenched the hand into a fist.
This is it, Elena thought with nightmare calmness. He's either going to knock me out or kill me. She
braced herself for the blow.
Stefan had resisted coming into the cemetery; everything within him had cried out against it. The last
time he'd been here had been the night of the old man.
Horror shifted through his gut again at the memory. He would have sworn that he had not drained the
man under the bridge, that he had not taken enough blood to do harm. But everything that night after the
surge of Power was muddled, confused. If there had been a surge of Power at all. Perhaps that had
been his own imagination, or even his own doing. Strange things could happen when the need got out
of control.
He shut his eyes. When he'd heard that the old man was hospitalized, near death, his shock had been
beyond words. Howcould he have let himself get so far out of hand? To kill, almost, when he had not
killed since…
He wouldn't let himself think about that.
Now, standing in front of the cemetery gate in the midnight darkness, he wanted nothing so much as
to turn around and go away. Go back to the dance where he'd left Caroline, that supple, sun-bronzed
creature who was absolutely safe because she meant absolutely nothing to him.
But he couldn't go back, because Elena was in the cemetery. He could sense her, and sense her
rising distress. Elena was in the cemetery and in trouble, and he had to find her.
He was halfway up the hill when the dizziness hit. It sent him reeling, struggling on toward the
church because it was the only thing he could keep in focus. Gray waves of fog swept through his
brain, and he fought to keep moving. Weak, he felt so weak. And helpless against the sheer power of
this vertigo.
He needed… to go to Elena. But he was weak. He couldn't be… weak… if he were to help Elena.
He needed… to…
The church door yawned before him.
Elena saw the moon over Tyler's left shoulder. It was strangely fitting that it would be the last thing
she ever saw, she thought. The scream had caught in her throat, choked off by fear.
And then something picked Tyler up and threw him against his grandfather's headstone.
That was what it looked like to Elena. She rolled to the side, gasping, one hand clutching her torn
dress, the other groping for a weapon.