the struggle by l.j. smith

Author:l.j. smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: young adult fiction, vampires, family, horror, horror & ghost stories, fantasy & magic, fiction, romance, triangles (interpersonal relations), love & romance, supernatural, speculative fiction, siblings, general, juvenile fiction, brothers
ISBN: 9780061060984
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1991-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Maybe you were sleepwalking,” said Bonnie, leading Elena away from the window as Mr. McCullough began putting the locks back on. “We’d better get you cleaned up.”

Sleepwalking. Suddenly the entire dream flooded back to Elena. The hall of mirrors, and the ballroom, and Damon. Dancing with Damon. She pulled out of Bonnie’s grasp.

“I’ll do it myself,” she said, hearing her own voice quaver on the edge of hysteria. “No—really—I want to.” She escaped into the bathroom and stood with her back to the locked door, trying to breathe.

The last thing she wanted to do was look in a mirror. But at last, slowly, she approached the one over the sink, trembling as she saw the edge of her reflection, moving inch by inch until she was framed in the silvery surface.

Her image stared back, ghastly pale, with eyes that looked bruised and frightened. There were deep shadows under them and smears of blood on her face.

Slowly, she turned her head slightly and lifted up her hair. She almost cried out loud when she saw what was underneath.

Two little wounds, fresh and open on the skin of her neck.

Nine

“I know I’m going to be sorry I asked this,” Matt said, turning red-rimmed eyes from their contemplation of I-95 to Stefan in the passenger seat beside him. “But can you tell me why we want these extra-special, not-available-locally, semi-tropical weeds for Elena?”

Stefan looked into the back seat at the results of their search through hedgerows and rough grass. The plants, with their branching green stems and their small-toothed leaves, did look more like weeds than anything else. The dried remains of blossoms at the ends of the shoots were almost invisible, and no one could pretend the shoots themselves were decorative.

“What if I said they could be used to make an all-natural eyewash?” he offered, after a moment’s thought. “Or an herbal tea?”

“Why? Were you thinking of saying something like that?”

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“Not really.”

“Good. Because if you did I’d probably deck you.”

Without actually looking at Matt, Stefan smiled. There was something new stirring inside him, something he hadn’t felt for nearly five centuries, except with Elena. Acceptance. Warmth and friendship shared with a fellow being, who did not know the truth about him, but who trusted him anyway. Who was willing to take him on faith. He wasn’t sure he deserved it, but he couldn’t deny what it meant to him. It almost made him feel… human again.

Elena stared at her image in the mirror. It hadn’t been a dream. Not entirely. The wounds in her neck proved that. And now that she’d seen them, she noticed the feeling of light-headedness, of lethargy.

It was her own fault. She’d taken so much trouble to warn Bonnie and Meredith not to invite any strangers into their houses. And all the time she’d forgotten that she herself had invited Damon into Bonnie’s house. She’d done it that night she had set up the dumb supper in Bonnie’s dining room and called out into the darkness, “Come in.

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