Elena was listening careful y. "But what about Bonnie?"
She looked at Stefan. "In this town in Umbria, did people fal into comas because of the phantom?"
Stefan shook his head. "Not that I ever heard of," he said.
"Maybe that's where Caleb comes in."
"I'l cal Celia," said Alaric. "This wil help focus her research. If anyone has any material at al on this, it'l be Dr. Beltram."
"Could your mother tel what kind of phantom it was?"
Stefan asked Mrs. Flowers. "If we know what emotion it feeds on, we could cut off its supply."
"She didn't know," she said. "And she doesn't know how to defeat a phantom either. And there's one more thing we should take into consideration: Bonnie's got a lot of innate psychic power of her own. If the phantom has taken her, it's probably tapped into that."
Matt nodded, fol owing her train of thought. "And if that's so," he finished grimly, "then this thing is only going to get stronger and more dangerous."
Chapter 26
The day passed with much research, but with very little in the way of results, which left Elena feeling increasingly concerned for her comatose friend. By the time night fel and Aunt Judith cal ed to wearily inquire whether Elena's family would see her at al that day, they had sorted through the first bag of papers and Alaric had gone over a third or so of what seemed to be the notebook in which Caleb kept the record of his magical experiments, grumbling about Caleb's terrible handwriting.
Elena frowned, flipping through another stack of papers. Looking through the pictures and clippings confirmed that Celia hadn't been among Caleb's planned victims. If the phantom had targeted her first, it must have been because she was rich in whatever emotion this phantom fed off.
"Snippiness," Meredith suggested, but she was careful to say it out of Alaric's hearing.
The clippings and printouts also showed that Caleb was indeed obsessed with Tyler's disappearance, and that he had evidence and memories of two different time lines for the same period - one where Fel 's Church had been fal ing apart and Elena Gilbert had been dead, and one where everything had been just fine, thanks in the smal Virginia town of Fel 's Church, including the continuing reign of the senior class's golden girl, Elena. In addition to Caleb's own double memories, which covered only the summer, Tyler had apparently talked to him over the phone the previous fal and winter about the mysterious events surrounding Mr. Tanner's death and everything that fol owed. Although it didn't sound from Caleb's notes like Tyler had mentioned his own transformation to werewolf and conspiracy with Klaus, just his growing suspicions of Stefan.
"Tyler." Elena groaned. "Even though he's long gone, he manages to make trouble."
Alaric's examination of the notebook so far had proved that they were right that Caleb was a magic user, and that he was planning to use his magic both to take vengeance against them and to try to locate Tyler. But it hadn't shown how he had summoned the phantom.
And despite Alaric's bringing any likely looking note, incantation, or drawing to Mrs. Flowers for inspection, they had not yet discovered what kind of spel Caleb had been doing, or what purpose the roses served.
Stefan escorted Elena home for dinner, then returned to continue helping the others. He'd wanted to stay with Elena, but she had a feeling her aunt would not appreciate a lastminute dinner guest. The second Elena stepped through the door, she could feel Damon's lingering presence and remembered how, just hours ago, they had stood upstairs, holding each other. Al through the meal, while she told Margaret a bedtime story, and then during her last cal to Meredith to check on the rest of the group's progress, she'd thought longingly of him, wondering whether she would see him tonight. That in turn set off pangs of guilt related to Stefan and Bonnie. She was being so selfish, keeping Stefan's brother's return from him, and thinking of herself while Bonnie was in danger. The whole cycle was exhausting, but stil she couldn't contain her exuberance that Damon was alive. Alone in her room at last, Elena ran a brush through her silky golden hair and pul ed on the simple cool nightgown she'd worn the night before. It was hot and humid outside, and through her window she could hear the crickets chirping busily. The stars were shining, and a half-moon floated high over the trees outside. She cal ed good night to Aunt Judith and Robert and climbed into bed, fluffing the pil ows around her.
She half expected a long wait. Damon liked to tease, and he liked to make an entrance, so he was quite likely to wait until he thought she would be asleep, and then sweep into her room. But she had barely turned off the light when a piece of darkness seemed to separate itself from the night outside her window. There was the faintest scuff of a footstep on the floor, and then her mattress groaned as Damon settled himself at the foot of her bed.
"Hel o, love," he said softly.
"Hi," she said, smiling at him. His black eyes glittered at her from the shadows, and Elena suddenly felt warm and happy, despite everything.
"What's the latest?" he asked. "I saw a lot of fuss going on at the boardinghouse. Something got your sidekicks in a tizzy?" His tone was casual y sarcastic, but his gaze was intense, and Elena knew he had been worried.
"If you let me tel everyone you're alive, you could be with us and then you'd know everything that's going on firsthand," she teased. Then she grew somber. "Damon, we need your help. Something terrible has happened."
She told him about Bonnie, and about what they had discovered in the Smal woods' garden shed.
Damon's eyes flamed. "A phantom's got the little redbird?"
"That's what Mrs. Flowers's mother said," Elena answered. "Stefan told us that he'd known of a rage phantom somewhere back in Italy."
Damon made a little pfft! noise. "I remember that. It was amusing at the time, but nothing like what you've been describing. How does this theory of Stefan's explain Bonnie's being taken? Or the appearance of the names when someone is threatened?"
"It's Mrs. Flowers's theory, too," Elena said indignantly.
"Or her mother's, I guess. And it's the only one that makes sense." She could feel Damon stroking her arm with the most featherlight touch, and it felt good. The hairs prickled on the back of her arms, and she shivered with pleasure in spite of herself. Stop it, she thought sternly. This is serious business. She moved her arm out of Damon's reach. He sounded amused and lazy when he next spoke. "Wel , I can't blame the old witch and her ghost mother," he said.