Matt was late meeting Jasmine. When he jogged around the corner, she was standing outside the little vintage movie theater, her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the chill of the late spring night.
A fierce, protective happiness lit up inside Matt at the sight of Jasmine. She glanced at her watch, clearly a little irritated-she didn't get much time off from her residency at the hospital-but she wouldn't be instinctively worried by Matt's lateness. Jasmine didn't automatically assume horrible things had happened. Because they never did, not to her.
Matt tried to shove aside the thoughts of Elena in danger, of Stefan's face that afternoon as he had gazed down at the remains of his stave. Now he was here, with Jasmine, in the normal world.
"Hey," he said, halting in front of her, panting a little. "I'm really sorry."
Jasmine crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. "Monster," she said sweetly. "The only way you can make it up to me is by buying me a very large popcorn and getting lots of fake butter."
As they waited in line at the concession stand, Matt wrapped his arms around Jasmine's shoulders, and she reached up to twine the fingers of her hand with his. "So what held you up?" she asked. "It's not like you to be late." Her big brown eyes fixed on his expectantly.
Matt froze. He hadn't thought about what to tell her. His silence was long enough that Jasmine's eyebrows rose slightly.
"Elena was in a car accident," he blurted, not lying, but not telling the whole truth.
Jasmine gasped, pressing her free hand against her mouth. "Oh my God," she said. "Is she okay?"
"Oh, yeah, she's fine, but she got a little banged up," Matt said, and then hurriedly corrected himself, remembering how Stefan's blood had healed Elena. Jasmine was a doctor; she would want to see Elena's injuries. "I mean, she's okay, but her car got pretty banged up. She hit a telephone pole."
They ordered popcorn and sodas and headed into the theater.
"That's terrifying. How did she manage to hit a telephone pole?" Jasmine asked as they settled into their seats, her hand still in his. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wait, was she on the phone? I told her, driving while using a phone is just as dangerous as driving drunk."
"No, I don't think she was on the phone," Matt said, although he wasn't sure.
"Well, what happened, then?" Jasmine asked again. Matt could feel himself stiffening and rolled his neck to let go of the tension building up in him. It wasn't Jasmine's fault he didn't know what to tell her about Elena's accident; these were perfectly natural questions.
"Elena wasn't drinking, was she?" Jasmine asked him, her forehead crinkling.
"No! God!" Matt said. "There's nothing to tell. It was just a normal accident, and we're going to make sure it doesn't happen again." A woman in the row ahead turned to look at them, and Matt realized his voice had risen.
"What do you mean you're going to make sure it doesn't happen again?" Jasmine asked in a low, persistent voice.
For one crazy moment, Matt wondered if maybe he could tell Jasmine the truth. She wouldn't believe him at first-no one would. But he guessed she'd probably noticed things that didn't quite add up about them in the past. And she cared about all his friends. If he shared some of the worries that weighed him down, maybe Jasmine could help him bear them.
Something in him immediately recoiled from the idea. It was selfish of him to even consider it. Jasmine existed outside of all the violence and fear that had been Matt's life ever since high school, ever since the Salvatore brothers had first come to Fell's Church. She reminded Matt of the way he'd been before this all started.
Everything they had suffered-Elena's death, Klaus's attacks, hunting the Old Ones-had marked Matt and all his friends. Even Bonnie, the sweetest of them, had something hard-edged and fierce about her now. This new toughness had saved their lives more than once. But he didn't want Jasmine to have to change like that.
"I don't know," he told her. "I don't know why I said that. It was an accident."
Jasmine turned to look carefully into his face, then frowned, clearly aware that he was hiding something. She'd let go of his hand, Matt realized, and his fingers felt cold without hers.
Matt clenched his jaw, swallowing his urge to beg her forgiveness, tell her everything. But then he thought of what could happen. Chloe had died because of her involvement in the mess of vampires and werewolves, warriors and demons that Matt's life had become. Even if Jasmine resented him for it, he would never tell her. He would keep her safe, no matter what.
"Duck!" Bonnie shouted wildly, scrunching down as far as she could in the passenger seat of the car.
"I can't duck; I'm driving," Zander said calmly. "Anyway, your parents aren't going to see us."
Bonnie sat up and turned in her seat to look back at her parents' house. There was no car in the drive; they must be out. "I just feel guilty, coming to Fell's Church and not letting them know," she said.
"You're on a very important mission," Zander told her. "Anyway, we're having dinner with them next week."
"I know," Bonnie said. "I just hope Mrs. Flowers has some ideas about how to search for Solomon. Elena's Powers aren't picking up anything." The elderly, powerful witch had taught Bonnie a lot of what she knew.
"Hmm," Zander responded, taking a left toward Mrs. Flowers's house. Bonnie's eyes drifted to his arm muscles flexing beneath his golden-tanned skin. Werewolves were naturally strong, of course, but ever since Zander and a couple of his Packmates had started a landscaping business after college, he'd only gotten buffer. She sighed appreciatively.
"There's a car in Mrs. Flowers's drive," Zander said curiously as they pulled up. Bonnie blinked; there was a car, a shiny little blue Honda. That was strange. Mrs. Flowers was basically a recluse and, anyway, she had known Bonnie and Zander were coming.
"Maybe it's somebody selling something?" Bonnie wondered aloud as they trailed through the untidy herb garden and up the path to the front door.
In the kitchen, they found Mrs. Flowers sipping tea with a girl about their own age. She didn't look like she was selling anything: She was as tiny as Bonnie herself, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, with wild curly blond hair and a spattering of freckles across her cheeks.
"Hey!" the girl said as soon as she saw them. She put her teacup down a little too hard, sloshing tea into the saucer and onto the table. "Oops," she added, grinning.
"Hello, children," Mrs. Flowers said serenely. "Help yourself to some scones. Alysia, if you look behind you, you'll see napkins to wipe up that spill."
They settled at the table, Bonnie squirming impatiently as Mrs. Flowers poured two more cups of tea and handed around plates for scones and little sandwiches. She needed to talk to Mrs. Flowers about serious business, but Bonnie couldn't see a way to bring up the subject of Old Ones in front of this stranger. And who was she, anyway?
From across the table, Alysia kept smiling at her. Bonnie shifted uncomfortably. Next to her, Zander bit happily into a scone. "These are amazing," he told Mrs. Flowers, who smiled at him.
"Um," Bonnie began, growing impatient, "Mrs. Flowers, did you manage to find anything on the ... problem I called you about?"
"There are some books of protection charms and divination spells on the table in the hall," Mrs. Flowers said briskly. "You may take them with you when you leave. I'm afraid, though, that I don't think the spells will do anything Elena can't do on her own." She put down her teacup and looked at Bonnie seriously, her blue eyes sharp. "I think Alysia might be able to assist you, though. She works with a group that could help you strengthen your Power."
"What kind of a group?" Bonnie asked, confused.
Alysia straightened, her voice becoming formal, as if she was reciting a prepared speech. "It's nice to meet you, Bonnie," she began. "I represent an association of people who work together through the manipulation of natural forces to oppose negative elements. Mrs. Flowers is"-she shared a look with the older woman-"one of the chief contacts of our group, and she's recommended that we invite you to join us." The girl smiled eagerly, making her look even younger. "She had a lot of good things to say about you, Bonnie. You sound like one of the most talented recruits we've come across."
"What do you mean, 'recruits'?" Bonnie asked suspiciously. "What exactly are you recruiting me for?"
Alysia flushed pink to the tips of her ears. "I'm sorry," she said. "I should have explained better. This is the first time I've coordinated a gathering. We'd like to invite you to our retreat for a few weeks, to share your abilities with others who have a deep connection to the natural elements, and they'll share their talents with you. If you find it useful, you can come back every year or two and work with the same team. We all help one another focus and hone our abilities. We're stronger when we work together."
"Like ... a workshop?" Bonnie asked.
"Sort of," Alysia agreed, dropping the formal tone. "We're really just a bunch of people who have magic powers and good intentions, and we think that if we work together we can get stronger, and counter some of the bad things in the world."
"Oh," Bonnie managed. She wasn't sure what to say. It sounded like a good idea, but did she really have time to join-what was this, a coven? "I've never really worked with anyone else. Except for Mrs. Flowers, of course."
"It'll just be for a few weeks. And I can guarantee it's a great way to take your abilities to the next level. Watch."
Alysia raised her hand and, her forehead wrinkling in concentration, made a complicated gesture, too quick for Bonnie to follow. There was a flash of red, and Bonnie heard birdsong as something fluttered past her, disappearing near Mrs. Flowers's china cabinet. Shadows of vines spread across the wall, and the scent of flowers and warm rain blossomed all around them. In the middle of Mrs. Flowers's kitchen, Alysia had conjured up a pocket of tropical rain forest.
"Wow," Bonnie said, as the illusion faded and the normal kitchen reassembled around them. "That was really neat."
"I'm good with illusions," Alysia said, shrugging. "But I never could have done that before I met the others."
"It sounds interesting," Bonnie said carefully. "Would you mind, though, if I checked something out for myself? No offense, Mrs. Flowers."
The older woman waved away the disclaimer. "I understand perfectly, my dear," she said.
"Don't be scared," Bonnie told Alysia, then turned to Zander. "Can you see if she's telling the truth?"
Zander got to his feet, accidentally jostling the table so that the delicate cups rattled, and took a deep breath. Then suddenly his body twisted, his face lengthening into a snout, his hands forming into claws. Alysia gave a startled yelp. In just a few seconds, a huge, beautiful white wolf stood beside them, gazing intently at Alysia with his sky-blue eyes.
"Oh, my God," Alysia said faintly, scooting her chair back from the table. Her face had paled so that the freckles stood out like little dark dots.
"Just stay still for a minute," Bonnie said. "He won't hurt you."
Zander walked around the table to sniff at Alysia, his furred jaw almost pressing against hers.
"Is everything you've told me the truth?" Bonnie asked. Alysia nodded. "You have to answer out loud," Bonnie added gently.
"Y-yes." Alysia's voice shook.
"Do you have any evil intent toward me?"
"No."
Zander changed back-always, Bonnie thought, a less painful-looking process than turning into a wolf-and rolled his shoulders, stretching. "She's good," he told Bonnie.
Alysia had her hand pressed against her chest and was breathing hard. "Oh my God," she gasped. "You control a werewolf?"
"What? No," Bonnie said. "I don't control him."
"Don't listen to her," Zander said affably. "She totally owns me."
"It sounds good," Bonnie said, ignoring her boyfriend. "I'd like to be able to channel more Power." She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she'd sort of plateaued-she was handy with herbs and charms, and could work a finding or protection spell pretty well, but her Power hadn't grown much in the last few years. "When does it start?"
"Tomorrow," Alysia said. "I know it's short notice, but we had some trouble getting the whole group that we wanted together."
"Tomorrow?" Bonnie shook her head, giving an incredulous little laugh. "I can't. I have a job. And Elena's in danger; I can't leave her now."
Mrs. Flowers's lips thinned. "Your best chance of helping Elena is by expanding your Power. You need to give this serious consideration, Bonnie."
"I don't-tomorrow's too soon," Bonnie said.
"I think you should go," Zander broke in unexpectedly. Bonnie turned to stare at him.
"You do?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I mean, obviously, I'd miss you like crazy, but this seems like something you need to do. You owe it to yourself to try. And the school year just ended, so you have time off work."
Zander was right. Bonnie envisioned herself full of Power, protecting Elena, protecting everyone. In her imagination, she waved one hand and a shimmering, clear wall came down around her friends, separating them from danger.
She thought of how she'd felt the other day-that no one needed her, that she wasn't useful anymore in protecting Dalcrest from the supernatural. This was her chance.
"Okay," she said, turning to Alysia, who clapped her hands and smiled. Mrs. Flowers nodded approvingly. "I'm in."