Jealousy was undoubtedly feminine, and its cool observational tone reminded Stefan of the little voice that sometimes spoke from the back of his mind, cal ing out his darkest and most shameful thoughts. Could the others even hear it? Or was it speaking straight into his mind?
He risked a glance around. They al - Meredith, Celia, Alaric, Mrs. Flowers - stood stil as statues, staring at Jealousy. Behind them, the makeshift beds lay empty. When the three sleepers' astral forms had entered the circle with the phantom, their bodies must have somehow joined them, making them solid within the inner circle.
"He came to Elena," the phantom taunted. "He kept his resurrection a secret from you so that he could pursue her. Damon didn't worry for a moment about how you felt about his death. And while you were busy mourning him, he was busy visiting Elena's bedroom."
Stefan reeled backward.
"He always wants what you have, and you know it," the phantom continued, its translucent lips curving in a smile.
"It's been true since you were mortals. Remember how he came home from university and stole Katherine away from you? He used al his charms on her, just because he knew you loved her. Even with the smal things: If you had a toy, he'd take it. If you wanted a horse, he'd ride it. If there was a piece of meat on the platter between you, he'd take it even if he wasn't hungry, just so you wouldn't get it."
Stefan shook his head slowly from side to side, again feeling too slow, like he had once again missed the important moment. Damon had been visiting Elena? When he had cried on her shoulder about his fal en brother, had Elena known Damon was alive?
"But you thought you could trust Elena, didn't you, Stefan?" Elena turned to stare at him, her cheeks pale beneath their coating of ash. She looked sick and apprehensive.
"No, Stefan - " Elena started to say, but the phantom went swiftly on, its words soothingly spoken poison. Stefan knew what it was doing. He wasn't a fool. Yet he felt himself nodding, agreeing, a slow red anger rising inside him despite his more rational self's struggle against it.
"Elena kept his secret from you, Stefan. She knew you were in pain and that knowing Damon was alive would have eased that suffering, but stil she kept silent, because Damon asked her to, and what Damon wanted was more important than helping you. Elena's always wanted both of the Salvatore brothers. It's funny, real y, Stefan, how you're never quite enough for the women you love. This isn't the first time Elena's chosen Damon over you, is it?"
Elena shook her head, but Stefan could barely see her through the tide of fury and misery rising up inside him.
"Secrets and lies," the phantom went on merrily, with an icy tinkling laugh, "and foolish Stefan Salvatore always a few steps behind. You've known al along there was something between Elena and Damon that you weren't part of, Stefan, and yet you would never have suspected she'd betray you for him."
Damon seemed to snap out of his daze, as if suddenly hearing the phantom for the first time. His brows drew into a heavy frown and he slowly turned his head to stare at it. He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, something in Stefan broke, and before Damon could issue whatever denial or taunt was on the tip of his tongue, Stefan lunged forward with a shout of rage, plunging straight through the chalked diagram. Faster than the human eye could fol ow, Stefan knocked Damon backward out of the circle and threw him against the far wal of the garage.
Chapter 33
"Stop!" Elena screamed. "Stefan! Stop it! You'l kil him!"
Even as she said it, she realized that kil ing Damon might be exactly what Stefan's idea was here. Stefan tore at Damon with his teeth and hands, not pummeling him, but ripping feral y, with fangs and claws. Stefan, his body in a vicious primal crouch, his canines extended, his face distorted by a snarl of animal fury, had never looked more like a bloodthirsty vampire.
And behind Elena as she watched them, that seductive, chil ing voice went on, tel ing Stefan that he would lose everything, just like he always lost everything. That Damon took everything from him and then tossed it carelessly, cruel y aside, because Damon simply wanted to ruin whatever Stefan had.
Elena turned and, too frightened by what Stefan was doing to Damon to have any fear left of the phantom, slammed it with her fists. After a moment, Matt and Bonnie joined her.
As before, mostly their hands just slid through the phantom's mist. The phantom's chest was solid, though, and Elena focused her rage on that, hitting against the hard ice there with as much power as she could.
Beneath the ice of the creature's chest, a rose glowed a rich dark red. It was a beautiful flower, but deadly looking, its color reminding her of poisoned blood. Its thorny stem seemed swol en, thicker than a normal flower's. As Elena stared at it, the glow deepened and the flower's petals opened further, swel ing to ful bloom. Is that her heart?
Elena wondered. Is Stefan's jealousy nourishing it? She smashed her fist against the phantom's chest again, right above the rose, and the phantom glanced at her for a moment.
"Stop it," Elena said fiercely. "Leave Stefan alone."
The phantom was real y looking at her now, and its - no, her - smile widened, her glasslike teeth sharp and shiny underneath her misty lips. In the glacial depths of her eyes, Elena thought she caught a chil y but genuine twinkle, and Elena's own heart froze.
Then the phantom turned her attention back toward Stefan and Damon, and, although Elena would never have believed it possible, things got worse.
"Damon," said the phantom throatily, and Damon, who'd been limp and exhausted, eyes clenched shut, passive under Stefan's assault, shielding his face but not fighting back, opened his eyes.
"Damon," she said again, her eyes glittering. "What right does Stefan have to attack you? Whatever you tried to take from him, you were just fighting against the fact that he got everything - your father's love, the girls you wanted - and you had nothing at al . He's a sanctimonious brat, a selfloathing weakling, but he gets everything."
Damon's eyes widened as if in recognition at hearing his own deepest miseries voiced, and his face twisted with emotion. Stefan was stil clawing and biting at him, but he fel back a little as Damon snapped into action, grabbing him by the arm and wrenching it. Elena winced with horror as she heard the crunch of something - oh, God -
something in Stefan's arm or shoulder breaking. Undaunted, Stefan only grimaced and then threw himself at Damon again, the hurt arm dangling awkwardly. Damon was stronger, Elena numbly noted, but exhausted; surely he wouldn't be able to keep his advantage for long. For now they seemed fairly evenly matched. They were both furious, both fighting with no reservations. A bestial, nasty snarl came from one of them, shaky, vicious laughter from the other, and Elena realized with horror that she had no idea which sound was coming from who.