The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation, Unspoken(16)

She had pounded down the stairs and out the front door of her building before she realized she was still dressed in her long lacy white nightgown. It didn’t matter, she decided. She would just scope out Siobhan’s situation, find the room from her dream—a cabin, it looked like—and drive away. She would come back later, with Damon.

At the thought of Damon, something inside Elena twisted. When he had held her in his arms and slipped his fangs into her throat, it had felt so right, like a homecoming. She couldn’t betray Stefan, not now. But she had always cared for Damon. Stefan had known that.

Driving her little Mini Cooper through the mostly empty roads of Dalcrest, Elena kept glancing up, following the smoky red tendrils of Siobhan’s aura. She expected them to lead straight through town and off into the hills nearby, places you might find a cozy cabin like the one Elena had dreamed of. But instead the trail led to the drive-in movie theater at the edge of town.

Elena had never been there, but she had heard about it—it had just opened earlier that summer, playing old movies to lure in families and the student crowd. The marquee outside read:

DOUBLE MIDNIGHT FEATURE

DRACULA

SON OF DRACULA

Ironic, Elena thought. It seemed like Siobhan had a sense of humor.

An old black-and-white film flickered on a huge screen, just visible over the top of the fence. Elena pulled up to the gate, and a white-haired man came out of his little booth to take her money. “First movie’s almost over,” he said genially. “Half price, sweetheart.”

Elena thanked him and pulled the car into the lot below the big screen. There were only about twenty cars there. As she parked, she saw Siobhan’s aura trace across the lot to a big old boat of a black car parked near the back.

Siobhan was leaning against the car.

In a moment, everything in Elena went on alert. She slammed open the door of her car, fumbling off her seat-belt, her gaze fixed on Siobhan. The vampire was tall and elegant lounging there, her long black hair cascading down her shoulders just as in Elena’s dream. As Elena watched, she wiped her mouth daintily with the back of one pale hand and raised her other hand in greeting, fanning her fingers at Elena in a ta-ta gesture.

Elena’s feet hit the asphalt, and the doors of her Power flew open. She felt something burst from her, a huge silent wave of Power crashing toward Siobhan, ready to drag the vampire under.

But it was too late. By the time Elena reached the car, the vampire was gone, moving so fast that Elena saw only a blur. Power from Elena hit the side of the black car, and its back panel crumpled, denting in with the sharp sound of bending metal.

Elena dashed toward the blur, her long white nightgown blowing against her legs. Maybe there was still time. The lot was full, but no one else had seen, their eyes fixed on the movie.

Above her on the screen, Mina Harker was saying, “I felt its breath on my face and then my lips.…” and then gasped. There was no sign of Siobhan anywhere. The trail of her aura had vanished.

Elena turned back to the car. Two figures were silhouetted in the front seat, leaning together. As Elena got closer, she could see long dark hair, the girl’s face pressed close against the neck of the guy. It almost looked like another feeding vampire, but they were too still. Maybe they were just unconscious, but dread pooled in Elena’s stomach.

She reached for the passenger door of the car and yanked it open.

When the door opened, the couple slumped sideways like rag dolls, any illusion of life disappearing. The girl’s arm flopped limply over the seat onto the floor of the car. Her neck was destroyed. The guy’s cheek rested upon hers and he gazed vacantly past Elena, his eyes empty. Tentatively, Elena reached out and touched the guy’s neck, then felt the girl’s wrist for a pulse. They were both dead, but their skin was still warm, their blood still wet.

Elena’s heart pounded, blood rushing dizzyingly in her ears. She had been just a few moments too late.

On the flickering black-and-white screen above Elena’s head, Mina, her voice full of horror, was telling the vampire hunter Van Helsing, “She looked like a hungry animal… a wolf. And then she turned and ran back into the dark.”



Elena turned the steering wheel and noticed, with a shiver of disgust, that there was a smudge of blood on the back of her hand. Pulling a tissue out of her glove compartment, she wiped it away.

In the end, she’d left Siobhan’s victims where she found them. Everyone in the audience had their eyes fixed on the screen above them; no one had seen her. It hurt to abandon them like that—their broken bodies gazing glassily at her, as if silently asking for some kind of acknowledgment—but getting tied into a police case would cause complications.