"Velociraptor sisterhood," she corrected, and Elena smiled at their old private joke.
Matt stepped forward a little. "My favorite memory of Bonnie this year is from Alaric and Meredith's wedding," he said. "Jasmine was still feeling awkward around you guys-she knew we'd been friends for a long time, and I guess it's weird for new people-"
"It is," Zander agreed loudly. "And Jasmine and I are both awesome."
Bonnie shushed him. "We're talking about me now, honey."
"Anyway," Matt went on. "At the reception, Bonnie took Jasmine under her wing, and before I knew it she was out dancing with all the girls and having a great time."
"Her dance moves put me to shame," Bonnie told him. Jasmine had looked gorgeous that night, her short teal dress setting off her long dark curls and caramel-colored skin. Most beautiful of all, though, had been the way her eyes shone every time she looked at Matt. Matt deserved someone who saw how great he was, Bonnie thought, and so she'd tried really hard to make Jasmine comfortable.
When Matt fell in love, he fell hard and for the long haul, and he hadn't had much luck in the past. Even if he wouldn't tell Jasmine the whole truth about himself, Bonnie wanted them to work out, for his sake.
Stefan raised his glass. "Bonnie, when I first met you, you seemed so sweet and innocent and young. I didn't take you as seriously as I should have. But it wasn't long before I came to realize how wrong that was. You are spontaneous and intuitive and have a warm, loving heart. Here's to your twenty-fourth year being even better than the last."
All Bonnie's friends were smiling at her, their glasses held up to toast, and she smiled back, warmed by the combined affection of their gazes. It was fine. Even if she wasn't essential to the monster fighting, she knew everyone loved her.
Today, Bonnie was happy.
Chapter 3
"You're being very boring, you know," Katherine called up to Damon from the piazza. "Come join us." Damon languidly waved at her from the balcony without looking up from the screen of his laptop. The sun had just set, but some light still lingered; dark shadows spread across the floor.
Something awful is going to happen, he read. I need you to be safe. He closed the laptop without replying to Elena's message and leaned back in his chair, frowning a little.
Then he felt for his connection with Elena-tentatively, as if he were lowering himself slowly into a deep, swirling river. The bond between them was always there, but Damon had gotten better at keeping it in the background, a mere comforting hum reminding him Elena's there. Elena's there, and she's fine.
But now he let his barriers fall. The sense of ELENAELENAELENA hit him like a tidal wave, and Damon went under for a minute, his senses flooded by Elena's emotions, Elena's essence. He could almost smell her: her pomegranate body wash, the faint coconut scent of her shampoo, and underneath it all the warm, tantalizing smell of Elena's rich blood. He caught a flash of quick images from her: the red of Bonnie's hair, something shiny glittering at the edge of Elena's vision. She was content right now, he realized, enjoying herself, and that told him all he needed to know. She was fine, and his brother, Stefan, was safe. Whatever new disaster was hovering at the edges of Elena's life, and of Damon's own, it had not yet arrived.
Maybe it never would. There would always be danger; Damon had accepted that centuries ago. And threats rarely came when you were expecting them. Even a Guardian like Elena could be wrong.
He stood up and stretched with a liquid grace, pushing his connection with Elena back to the edge of his consciousness. Sometimes, in the very early morning when he was settling to rest, Damon would open himself all the way to Elena just to feel her with him, the sense of her flooding through him as he lay back on his silken sheets. Usually she was sleeping then, deep in the dark of a Virginia night, and Damon could lose himself in Elena's dreams.
But touching Elena's mind like that always left a strange ache in Damon's chest afterward, so he tried to resist as long as he could. He didn't quite know what the sensation was. It couldn't be loneliness, because Damon was never lonely.
He wandered to the edge of the balcony and looked down into the piazza below. There were a few tables set around the grand fountain in the middle of the square, but only one was occupied. Katherine was not in the mood to mix with the locals, and so the locals had found themselves deciding to stay inside tonight.
Katherine looked up at him, her long golden hair falling over the back of her chair, and beckoned imperiously. Beside her, her current boyfriend, Roberto, glanced at Damon and then down at the table. "Come here," she said. "It's time for dinner."
Sometimes Damon couldn't believe he was still traveling with Katherine. He had never expected to see her again. But then, two years ago while wandering the streets of Tokyo, he'd caught sight of her through the crowd, felt the familiar brush of her mind, and she'd turned and smiled at him. He hadn't mistaken her for Elena-he never did, although they looked so much alike. And somehow, even after everything they'd been through, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world to cut through the crowd and take her hand. After all, he'd spent most of his long life loving her.
They'd been traveling together since then. And this much could be said for Katherine: She was infuriating at times, selfish and conceited, but she was never, ever dull.
More quickly than a human eye could have followed, Damon gracefully dropped from the balcony to the piazza below, his feet landing cat-soft on its cobblestones. Katherine smiled at him and patted the seat of the chair next to her.
"I'm starving," Roberto said sulkily, as Damon sat. "Where's the waitress?"
Roberto was always complaining, always on edge. Damon remembered what it was like to be a young vampire, restless and unable to settle, but surely he had never been as petulant as Katherine's latest toy. At least, Damon consoled himself, Roberto wouldn't be with them for long.
He wasn't the first handsome young man Katherine had picked up in their travels. There'd been Hiro in Tokyo and Sven in Stockholm, Nigel in London-Damon had actually liked Nigel, who'd at least had a sense of humor-and Jean-Paul in Paris. Roberto, with his dark hair and cleanly cut features, was just the latest. After a while, Katherine always left them behind.
But for now, she was still enjoying her new toy, and so Damon would tolerate him. Katherine patted Roberto on the arm soothingly. "Look," she said. "Here she comes." A pretty girl from the restaurant at one side of the piazza was hurrying toward their table, carrying a tray piled high with food and drink.