The Vampire Diaries: Stefan’s Diaries #3: The Craving (14 page)

T
he three of us tore out of the chapel. As soon as we left the Richards’ estate grounds we were plunging through woods. Saplings stung our legs as we pitched downhill through the wet night, and tall pines blocked whatever moonlight might have slipped between the clouds. If we had been human, our feet would have surely skidded on the forest floor of decaying leaves. Unable to see more than a yard or so in front of us we would have crashed into the giant trunk of a tree.

Instead, we moved like predators, coursing through the night like vampires had for hundreds of years: streaking through the wilds to the next village of potential victims, chasing down someone who had foolishly separated from the herd and decided to travel at night by himself.

It felt good to be racing this way, with a few ounces of human blood zinging through my veins. I was almost able to lose myself in the flight, forgetting about what it was we were fleeing from.

Then there was a noise.

It started out like the beginning of a long roll of thunder, climbed into a crescendo of inhuman groaning, and ended in a screech of despair. The noise was everywhere, filling our ears, the valley we were descending into, the sky above us.

The three of us stopped, startled by the sound.

“Well, I guess the vampire is free,” Damon huffed.

“Margaret—” I began.

“Trust me, she’s fine. Did you see what she did to him?” Damon pointed out.

“What is she, though?” I asked.

“A witch.”

“Like Emily?” I wondered, my theory confirmed. Was the world simply full of witches, vampires, demons, and who knows what else, most of which were invisible to human eyes?

“I had a feeling there was something different about her when I couldn’t compel her . . .” Damon explained. “So I asked. And she answered. Pretty straightforward, that one.”

“So she . . .”

“Cast a protective spell around herself and her family, and was burning his brain meats with some mental ability or other to buy us a little time. Emphasis on the word
little
,” he added. “Hope that protective spell is still up.”

There was another roar.

“Keep moving,” Lexi ordered, and we began again.

The woods grew blacker as if nature herself dreaded his approach, and we could feel the earth tremble with his every footstep.

Damon and I leaped over a giant log, and for one fleeting moment our motions were perfectly synchronized. But then the three of us came to skidding halt at the edge of a cliff that looked out over all of upper Manhattan.

“Huh,” my brother said doubtfully, peering over its edge.

“We’ll have to find some other way down,” I said, starting to look back the way we came. “A path, or . . .”

With a cry, Lexi hurled herself over the edge of the cliff.

I watched her, wide-eyed with horror.

“
Find another way down?
” Damon said, shaking his head disappointedly at me. “Still thinking like a human, brother.” And he dove after her.

I swore under my breath, watching him disappear into the branches below. Then I followed.

As frightening as that fall was, there was something very freeing about it. I was weightless, swimming through the air. The world whistled through my outstretched fingers and hair. It almost felt as though I were flying.

I smashed down through thick leafy canopy and rolled into a ball, eventually coming right side up with a twisted ankle that reset itself almost before I noticed it.

Damon and Lexi were standing still. She had her head cocked, listening to the strange quiet we suddenly found ourselves in.

“He lost us,” Damon said, triumphantly. “He didn’t realize we went down the cliff! He’s . . .”

“He’s in front of us,” Lexi breathed, eyes widening. The silence to the south was in fact complete, as if every living thing had quieted or died. We waited, unsure what to do, though it was hard to say for what.

Then came the sound of a single blade of grass bending and breaking.

“
RUN!
” Lexi screamed.

We took off. I made the mistake of looking behind me. What I saw and what I heard didn’t match up; on the one hand, it briefly appeared that an older man was following me with surprising swiftness. But the shadow cast by the moonlight was of something far bigger and inhumanly shaped. Bushes and trees fell and crashed out of his way before he even touched them.

I doubled my pace.

We had no choice but to head south. The woods thinned and civilization began to rear its ugly head: a lonely, last farm, a cluster of abandoned holdings, a large estate, a hotel, dirt roads to paved avenues still crowded with horses and carriages and cabs and people even in the middle of this night.

And behind us, gaining power from every shadow through which he passed, was the old one.

We turned a corner around a fruit stand, knocking down baskets, and the stench of decay that issued from his raggedy breathing mouth was hot on my neck. We dashed through a slum, avoiding clotheslines and open pits of raw sewage, and he was there, throwing aside things and people to get to us. When we thought we had pulled ahead, twisting through narrow alleys and confusing side streets, we could still feel his Power, his frustration vibrating through the night.

Lexi led us, and whether it was her own Power or a familiarity with the city, she managed to find just the right fire escapes to leap to, just the right piles of garbage to roll over. Perhaps this was not the first time she had fled from a demon of this stature.

“The seaport,” she hissed. “It’s our only chance.”

Damon nodded, for once having no trouble taking orders from someone else. We made our way to the west, to the avenues bordering the mighty Hudson.

Lexi’s eyes suddenly narrowed and she pointed. A clipper ship, a pretty shiny blue vessel just pulling away from the dock, filled with all sorts of New York goods to sell overseas.

With a mighty leap Lexi cleared the water between the dock and its deck, arms poised in the air like a cat leaping upon its prey. Damon and I followed suit, silently landing on the dark deck. By the time we recovered ourselves she was already compelling a shocked sailor who had seen the manner of our arrival.

“We’re on the manifest. My brothers and I have a berth below. We did not just leap aboard. . . .”

Damon surveyed the ship with interest, pleased with his new locale.

I looked back toward shore. There stood a single, innocuous-seeming man leaning against the rail of the wharf, pale as if he had sucked all the moonlight into himself. He stood casually, like he was just there to watch the ships come and go.

But the look in his eyes was deadly and eternal—and unforgiving.

H
er name was the
Mina M
. She was a speedy ship and a thing of beauty, with sleek lines and white sails. Her wooden mast was oiled to a sheen, boasting smart red flags that snapped in the breeze.

I stood at the prow and closed my eyes, imagining our journey. The stinging salt air and the bright yellow sun would whip my cheeks red as the
Mina
cut through waves, leaving white foam and spray in her wake. Little silver fish would glint in the water below in their hurry to get out of the way.

On our travels we would see tiny skiffs cross the water loaded up with bananas and rum in the West Indies. We’d trade for spices in India. I’d finally see Italy, walk through the Sistine Chapel, marvel in front of the Duomo, and drink Chianti straight from the vineyard.

Maybe . . . maybe this would be a new way of life for me. Traveling at the speed of water rather than confining myself to the shadows. I’d never stay in one port for too long, outrunning death and my curse. Sailors usually had no friends but the men they crewed with—I would fit right in.

But then I opened my eyes, my fantasy evaporating into the heavy midnight that surrounded me. A dense cloud cover obscured the sky and any stars embedded there failed to shine through. The
Mina
slipped silently out to sea, cutting the oily water with barely a hiss.

This was the vampire’s realm. Though my ring allowed me to walk in the daylight, my world existed in darkness. It was then, while the sun slumbered, that I hunted, evaded enemies, spewed curses, broke promises, and gave myself over to hate. We had escaped Klaus’s minion, but we hadn’t defeated him. He and his master were still out there, somewhere, planning on future torture and death for me and Damon.

Lexi came up on deck behind me and touched my shoulder.

“We’re en route to San Francisco,” she said quietly. “I’ve not been there . . . in a while. But you’ll love the fog and dismal weather.
Great
for brooding.” She gave me a thin smile. “And I can tell you’re going to be quite the brooder.”

I leaned against the deck rail. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there would never be a place for me, that I would never fit. And I didn’t deserve to, after all the lives I’d ended.

The night wind tousled my thick brown hair and Lexi tucked it behind my ear.

“He said
an eye for an eye
,” I began.

“Yes. Well.” Lexi took a deep sigh and looked serious for a moment, eyes narrowing. “This is a fast ship and it will take him time to figure out our manifest. Besides the legal cargo of tea and coffee, there’s a sizable shipment of opium they’re planning to pick up in Frisco. The captain failed to register with the dock master, so it will be a while before anyone figures out where we turn tail to.”

“No. I mean yes, that’s good.” I rubbed a sudden spray of water from my eyes. “But I meant . . . he killed the people that were supposed to be our wives, because his Katherine was killed.”

Lexi nodded, shivering.

“And then he grabbed you . . . and was going to kill you and me, and probably Damon, in a church, just like Katherine was killed.”

Lexi narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this.”

“If he was being so particular about whom he killed and in what manner,
why didn’t he set the place on fire
?”

Lexi blinked. I saw her work through the logic. She stayed silent for a long time. I couldn’t read her eyes, but still I felt embarrassed to be thinking of Katherine at a time like this.

“Stefan,” she began. “Please listen to me. There are all levels of evil among our kind. From that old thing that commits great atrocities to . . . minor, horrible little things that exist just for their own pleasure, regardless of whom it hurts.

“Katherine wanted you to become a vampire. And look at the results. Do not weep overmuch for her, Stefan, or search for clues to her death or existence.
Let her go.
It is truly the best thing you can do.”

I turned my head away from her and looked toward the only star bright enough to shine through the cloud cover—the North Star. Katherine was like that star: fixed in place, a silent specter hanging above me, a benchmark against which to measure my progress. No matter my feelings toward her, she had made me, and she would be with me always.

“We’re not
all
evil,” I said, putting my arm around her. “You’re not.”

“I’m a lot older than you,” she said gently. “And who I am now isn’t who I’ve always been. You’re not the only one with things to atone for, Stefan. But I’ve made a vow to myself to be different.”

“Oh,
ugh
.
Vows.
” Damon stumbled onto deck loudly. “By Our Lord, haven’t we made enough vows for a lifetime?”

“The marriages were your idea, not mine,” I pointed out.

“Waah, wahh, I’m a vampire, I had a really great wedding, great champagne, my brother rescued me, and I’m still tortured.”

He bounced off the deck rails, palming the smooth wood and propelling himself back to the other side, port to starboard back and forth until he reached us. The untrained eye would have marked him as drunk, but there was a telltale crimson smear in the corner of his lips. He was drunk with our escape, with our rescue, with the lifeblood of some poor cabin boy—but not with drink. Not yet, at least.

“Yes, and speaking of rescues, Margaret . . .” I prompted.

Damon sighed. “When I confronted her about being able to withstand compulsion, Margaret admitted she was a witch and said she would help me.”

“Just like that?” I asked skeptically.

Damon rolled his eyes. “In return for us leaving New York and never coming back—in her lifetime, at least. And, this is the part that kills me,
returning the dowries
.”

“Aw, Damon. I’m so sorry,” Lexi said, her sparkling eyes belying her serious tone. “Your plan to fleece the rich didn’t work out. Better luck next time.” She punched him lightly in the shoulder.

“We owe her our lives,” I said seriously. “She didn’t have to help us at all. By all rights, she
shouldn’t
have. The protection spell she cast around her and her husband—do you think it will really keep them safe?”

“I have to believe. Either way, she’s a better soul than you lot,” Lexi pronounced.

“And speaking of better souls . . .” I said, barely suppressing a smile, “what made you come back and rescue me? I thought you were hell-bent on ‘never forgiving me’ and ‘punishing me until the end of my days.’”

Damon’s blue eyes were veiled. “Yes. Well, I meant every word. I will
never
forgive you. I
will
torture your every living moment.”

I shook my head, tamping down the stirring of black rage inside me that wanted to shout to Damon that he may have lost the love of his life, but I lost a life that I loved. And a father, and a home.

And a brother.

But as quickly as the rage flowed in, it ebbed back out again, leaving me hollow. How could I expect my brother to forgive me for turning him into a vampire when I couldn’t forgive myself for it? He had once loved me, as I had once loved Katherine, but I would never, ever forgive her for making me what I was now.

Damon took me by the shoulders. “Besides,” he added, the corners of his lips turning up, “if
anyone
is going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

Then, without another word, he leaped with vampiric speed to the deck rail itself, balancing without moving a muscle as the boat dipped and rocked in the water, as though he were the ship’s figurehead, carved in cold marble.

He lifted his hand in salute. “I’ll be seeing you, brother.”

Then, before I could even utter his name, he stepped off the rail and plunged into the dark water below.

I raced to the edge of the boat and looked at the churning water. But my brother didn’t resurface. Lexi and I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until we were so far from shore and sky that it felt as though we were suspended in blackness.

Then, when the sun finally peeked its red head over the watery horizon, we went inside the dimly lit cabin to face our future.