“I don’t care,” Bonnie told her. “Did you find something?”
Elena handed her the bag. “I couldn’t—” she licked her lips nervously. “I couldn’t bear to throw out Stefan’s shirt, or wash it. So I just stuffed it in the back of our closet.”
“Oh.” Bonnie looked down at the bag and then hesitantly opened it and pulled out the black shirt. Elena remembered Stefan wearing the shirt that last night, how soft it had been against her cheek the last time he held her in his arms.
Bonnie’s nose wrinkled, and a slight rotting smell wafted across the table. Elena flinched. That smell was Stefan’s blood. It had been long enough now that it was festering.
“You really think you can use the blood to bring him back, the way Ethan brought Klaus back?” she asked, her voice sounding thin and stretched to her own ears.
Bonnie bit her lip. “I don’t think so,” she confessed. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high. Ethan had to use the bloodlines of all the vampires Klaus had made—that’s why he needed Stefan and Damon, because they were what was left of Katherine’s line. But Stefan never made any vampires at all. I do think we can do something, though. Maybe we can bring him back, at least for a little while. Or contact him, if he’s out there somewhere.”
“Long enough to say good-bye,” Elena said softly. Tears were forming in her eyes. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll do everything I can.” Bonnie put the shirt down on the table and reached out to squeeze Elena’s hand. “Is it okay if I cut this shirt? Just to get a piece with some blood on it.” Elena nodded, and Bonnie let go of her hand and picked up the shirt again, along with a pair of silver scissors to snip at it.
Taking a glass of water from the counter, she dunked the cloth into it, and they watched as the water gradually turned a cloudy reddish-brown. Tiny flakes of dried blood floated to the bottom of the glass.
“Now I need some of your blood,” Bonnie said, picking up a black-handled knife from where it lay beside the glass. Elena arched an eyebrow questioningly but held out her arm. The blade stung as Bonnie drew it quickly across Elena’s arm. Bonnie held the glass so that a few drops of Elena’s blood fell into the water and mixed with Stefan’s. They both watched as the bright red of the fresh blood spiraled through the browner liquid.
“Okay, don’t freak out, but I’m going to put some of this on you,” Bonnie said. Elena nodded. Bonnie dipped her finger in the liquid, and Elena squeezed her eyes shut as Bonnie lifted her finger to Elena’s face. The water was cold, and Elena shivered as Bonnie’s finger traced lightly over her cheekbones, marking what felt like angular symbols on her forehead and below her eyes.
“We want to call him to you,” Bonnie told her, and Elena opened her eyes again to see Bonnie tracing circles and runes on her own cheeks with the thin mixture of blood and water. When she had finished, she placed the glass on the table and lit the five black candles. Their flickering light highlighted the wet brownish streaks on her cheeks, making her look like some kind of pagan priestess. “Give me some Power.”
Elena took a deep breath and tried to let her Power expand. Blinking, she could see her own golden aura entwine with the rose-pink of Bonnie’s. Then Bonnie began to chant in a language Elena didn’t recognize, something Germanic-sounding, and picked up the candle at the peak of the pentacle. Shielding the flame with one hand, she dipped the candle and ignited the mixture of herbs inside the brass bowl.
There must have been some kind of accelerant in with the herbs and roots, Elena thought, because flames shot up immediately, blue and green at their base.
“Koma!” Bonnie said firmly. Her voice rose. “Hitta heima! Koma hyrggr! Leita Stefan Salvatore!” The flames burned higher, and with her last words, she upended the glass over them, dumping out the mixture of blood and water. The flames sizzled and went out, sending up a plume of black smoke.
The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to grow darker. A chill crept up Elena’s spine. There was a breathless feeling all around them, as if someone stood just outside their field of vision, waiting to speak.
Stefan? Elena strained her eyes, watching the shadows. Bonnie slipped a cold hand into hers, and they waited. Elena’s heart was pounding, and she held her breath.
He was coming closer, she was sure of it. She could feel him, that indefinable, comforting feeling that Stefan was somewhere nearby. It was like coming into a room and knowing he was around the corner, just out of sight. Elena’s mouth was dry with anticipation.