Chapter 4

It was almost six by the time Meredith left George's office. She couldn't believe she'd been talking to him for nearly three hours—and was still reeling from everything he'd revealed to her. Prior to the last two days, Meredith had never agreed with the expression that "Ignorance is bliss". Now, however, she could easily identify with whoever had coined that phrase.

Sometimes the truth was simply too disturbing.

Before discovering the photograph hidden in an old trunk, Meredith had thought her family's history with vampires began with the attack on her grandfather and should have ended with his death. That knowledge alone had been horrifying enough to try and deal with. Now it turned out that he'd not only known one vampire, he'd known an entire cult of them. He'd befriended vampires, worked alongside them, and used genetics to help them with God only knew what.

A thousand ghoulish possibilities ran through Meredith's mind, each one more nightmarish than the last.

Ideally she would have liked nothing more than to sit down in a quiet corner somewhere to contemplate everything George had told her. Meredith had a lot to think about, especially in regards to the type of man her grandfather had been. These latest revelations into his character made her feel like she'd known him less than ever before.

Unfortunately she'd promised Bonnie that they would have a girl's night. Contemplating her family's history would have to be put on hold for a short while. Maybe that wasn't such a terrible thing, Meredith realized as she started up her car. Sometimes too much time to think and brood wasn't healthy.

Dimly recalling that she'd promised to pick up the movies, she headed to the video store to grab copies of "Dirty Dancing" and "Pretty Woman". Forever the hopeless romantic, Bonnie would be thrilled, and they were perfect for a night of forgetful fun.

It was nearly seven by the time Meredith made it to the McCoullough's. Bonnie's older sister, Mary, answered the door, looking exhausted. Her shift at the clinic must have ran late.

"Hi Meredith," Mary greeted her, barely stifling a yawn. "Sorry for the less-than-enthusiastic greeting. I was just heading to bed. Bonnie's in her room."

"Meredith—thank God!" Bonnie practically shouted in relief when Meredith came in. She was seated cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by dozens of colorful pamphlets and brochures. Her auburn curls were in a state of complete disarray. "How are you supposed to pick just one college?" she demanded, as though it was the most unfair decision she'd ever been asked to make.

Grabbing the brochure for West Virginia College from the bed, Meredith perched on the arm of a lavender lazy boy as she perused it. "Weren't you supposed to send off applications in April?" she asked, arching one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"I did…to all these ones," Bonnie admitted, indicating every brochure and pamphlet surrounding her. "I couldn't make a decision then so I figured I'd see who'd actually take me. I didn't realize ninety-nine percent of them would accept."

Meredith had to laugh, tossing a stuffed hippo from the chair at her friend playfully. "They're community colleges, they accept anyone with decent grades who can cover the cost of tuition."

"No one told me that," Bonnie said indignantly. "'Guidance' counselors my foot. Why don't you just pick one for me? Or maybe I should just do eeny-meeny-miny-mo."

"Yes, because that's always a reliable system," Meredith teased her.

"I think I've narrowed it down to Mountain State or Valley. Those seem like good schools, right? Or maybe…" Bonnie flopped backwards on her bed with a melodramatic moan, sending several brochures flying. "I give up. I might as well just resign my fate to working at the Dairy Shack all summer."

"You did look awfully cute in that hat," Meredith said, hiding a smile behind her hand.

Bonnie and Meredith had spent a grueling summer when they were fifteen slaving away at the Dairy Shack. The owner was cheap, the days were long, and they were expected to wear a uniform. It might not have been so bad, the black pants and red t-shirt were tolerable, but you were also expected to wear a visor—with a smiling, waving stuffed cow on the front of it.

Stretching out on her stomach, Bonnie fixed her with a mock glare. "As I recall, you looked just as sexy as I did," she shot back petulantly. Propping her chin in her hands, she gave Meredith a look with brown eyes that were the picture of innocence. "How about you," she asked casually, "have you decided if you're going to Duke or not?"

"Your attempts at subtlety are admirable," Meredith said in a deadpan. She knew that in asking about Duke, Bonnie was really asking about the status of her relationship with Alaric.

"Oh, come on. I'm your best friend—I have a God-given right to pry!"

Meredith rolled her eyes, but figured there was no harm in indulging Bonnie's insatiable quest for information about her love life. "I'm not sure where we stand," she admitted honestly. "We write each other often and he says he loves me, but I don't know…"

"You don't know if you love him?" Bonnie said, aghast. "What's not to love? Those eyes, that body…" Feigning swooning, she rolled onto her back with a hand pressed to her forehead. She was rewarded for her play acting with a heart-shaped pillow to the head.

"Alaric is gorgeous, I'm not denying that," Meredith admitted, glad her olive complexion didn't easily reveal when she was blushing. "There's just been a lot going on right now that I'm unsure of. My grandfather actually passed away a couple of nights ago."

"Oh no," Bonnie said, sitting up, all traces of humor replaced by concern. "I'm so sorry, Meredith. Are you okay?"

Thinking of her grandfather, his final days spent in a sterile institution, she had to stifle a shiver. "I am okay," Meredith said honestly. "We used to go visit him every second week when I was younger and I hated it. Sometimes he would know who we were, but mostly he just sat and stared. It was awful to see him in that state so I'm glad he's finally at peace now."

Reaching into her purse, Meredith pulled out the black and white picture. "There's something else I'm really concerned about, though. Take a look at this." Bonnie took the picture from her and began to study it. "The man on the right is my grandfather and the man on the left—"

"It's Klaus!" Bonnie gasped.

It appeared as though she was going to add something else when a vacant and far-away look slipped over her face all of a sudden. A chill crept up Meredith's spine. She'd become accustomed to Bonnie's trances, but this one came on with an abruptness that was frightening—at the exact moment she recognized the man in the photograph.

"Merry," Bonnie intoned in a voice much deeper than her usual cadence, "Merry Berry."

The chill turned into bitter icicles that numbed her to the bone. "Merry Berry" was the nickname her grandfather used to call her when she was a little girl. There was no possible way that Bonnie could have known that. The only person still around who would remember her childhood nickname was her father.

"Granddad?" Meredith asked tentatively.

"There isn't much time, it was hard for me to get through at all. I'm sorry this duty has to fall on you, my Dear, but there's no one else I can trust. You have to go to Rome and stop the Dark Veritas before it's too late. Kane is a madman, if he succeeds with his plans it could mean the end of mankind as we know it." Bonnie let out a forlorn sigh that sounded much older and wearier than her seventeen years. "I'm sorry, Merry Berry. I didn't know what I was helping him with. Please forgive me."

Meredith was too stunned to say anything at first. Was it really possible that her grandfather was speaking through Bonnie? Honoria Fell had used her as a conduit to pass messages along from the dead to the living so it was feasible that another spirit could use Bonnie in the same way.

"I don't understand." She finally found her voice, even if it wavered slightly. "Why is this happening?"

"I wish I could explain more," Bonnie said, her ethereal voice laced with human regret. "You have to go back to George Watkins. Ask him about your mother's death, make him tell you the truth. You need to know everything before you go and stop the Dark Veritas."

"Stop them from what? And how?" Meredith asked incredulously. "They're vampires, I don't have they're strength or powers."

Her grandfather didn't appear to have heard her. Bonnie's head was tilted to the side, her auburn curls spilling over her shoulder, as though she was listening to something. "You must also beware the man in black. He will be a necessary ally in your quest, but you must not trust him entirely. With barely a thought he will betray you to the darkness with a smile and a bow."

After making this ominous declaration, her head drooped to her chest and she let out a low moan. "Granddad?" There was no immediate response. Meredith hesitated, wondering if she should attempt to bring Bonnie out of her trance. It appeared as though the spirit of her grandfather had come and gone, but she couldn't be certain. Bonnie began rocking back and forth slowly, her lips moving without making any sound.

Meredith decided to try and awaken Bonnie from wherever her focus still remained. Just as she was reaching for the other girl's arm, however, Bonnie's head flew up and her eyes shot open in panic. "HELP HER!" she demanded anxiously. "Somebody please help her! She's trapped…there's flames all around. Oh God, it's so hot. She's burning…"

Taking a step back in alarm, Meredith wasn't sure what to make of what Bonnie was saying, although it was clear she was in distress. The back-and-forth rocking became a lot more frantic and urgent. Bunches of the comforter became clenched in her fists as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Isabella…" she whimpered mournfully.

Suddenly it all clicked in to place. Bonnie was somehow channeling the instant of her mother's death.

All the color drained out of Meredith's face. Unable to take anymore of what Bonnie was saying, she seized her by the upper arms and began to shake her, perhaps slightly harder than was necessary. The glazed, distant look on Bonnie's face ebbed gradually until it was replaced by one of extreme annoyance.

"Why are you shaking me?" Extracting herself from Meredith's grip, she noticed a familiar look on her friend's face. "Uh oh, I know that look. Did I have another trance? I thought I was supposed to be done with those stupid things."

It wasn't uncommon for Bonnie to remember nothing of what she said or did when she had one of her psychic episodes. Meredith actually felt grateful for the customary memory loss in this situation. Thinking quickly, she shoved the picture back in her purse. If what her grandfather—gut instinct convinced her that was who'd spoken through Bonnie at first—had said was true then knowing what Meredith did could be very dangerous.

Meredith didn't want to risk Bonnie's life along with her own.

"What do you remember?" she asked carefully.

"We were talking about…college." Bonnie's forehead furrowed in concentration as she tried to remember what had happened. "You told me about your grandfather and you were going to show me…something." She struggled to recall all the details, but gave up with a dismissive shrug. "What'd I say?"

"Nothing much," Meredith lied casually. "You were mumbling a lot and I couldn't make out most of what you said."

Touching her face, Bonnie's eyes widened in alarm when her fingers came away wet. "Was I crying?"

The lies just kept coming. Meredith might have felt bad about being untruthful with her friend if she hadn't been doing so for Bonnie's own good. "You were crying a little bit. Maybe whoever was channeling you was upset." There, at least that last part wasn't a total lie.

"Frigging fan-tas-tic!" Bonnie muttered irately. "I've now become the local operating service for the dearly departed. Just what I've always wanted. Maybe I should start my own psychic hotline for speaking to the dead. I could charge five bucks a minute and have my own infomercial. Might as well make some money off this—this thing I never asked for!"

Meredith rolled her eyes, feeling immensely relieved that Bonnie had decided not to fixate on what her trance was about. "Come on, Miss Cleo," she joked lightly. "Let's go downstairs and watch 'Dirty Dancing'. A shirtless Patrick Swayze always cheers you up."

"You know me so well." Bonnie was already bouncing out the door and down the stairs. "I'll make popcorn!" she called back.

Heading down the stairs slowly, Meredith's mind felt muddled and overwhelmed. She didn't know what to think or do about what her grandfather had told her. How could he possibly expect her to put a stop to whatever the Dark Veritas were up to? And what could they possibly have to do with the death of her mother? Of everything he'd told her, in fact, she could only be certain of one thing: she'd be going back to see George Watkins a lot sooner than either of them had expected.