Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and friends, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else is mine. No harm intended or money made from this fic.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
~ Eight ~
She had been right; this job was _great_!
Elena set down the box of pamphlets and dusted her hands with a satisfactory air. She was startled to see people heading off for home; a glance at her watch showed that the day had flown by. It was quitting time already.
Elena trotted over to where three people were waiting for Jayne's attention. When her turn came, she reported, "Stalls 23 through 33 are all set up. We might want to keep on eye on Number 28. They've brought a _lot_ of heavy-duty equipment and fancy display lighting with them. We got them an extension cable with additional power outlets, but they might still overload the system."
Jayne scribbled notes along the margin and looked up at her with a smile when she was done. "Good. Thank you, Elena. Enjoy your weekend. I'll see you on Monday."
Her smile warmed Elena. Feeling ridiculously cheerful, she grabbed her stuff and waved at a couple of colleagues on her way out. Stefan was waiting at home for her; maybe they would go out dancing tonight. It was the weekend, and–
"Hey, Elena."
A vaguely familiar looking young man fell into step with her. She stopped, recalling him from an occasional encounter around exhibition hall. She thought she had heard someone call him Aaron.
"Hi," she said.
He smiled, "Great job with the porcelain doll ladies. I was sure for a moment there that one of the guys was going to break one of the exhibits and use the shards to shut them up."
"Oh. Thanks." She tried to smile at his attempt at humor, but she honestly didn't find the suggestion funny. There was a moment of awkward silence.
Aaron cleared his throat. "So, you're heading home? Big plans for the weekend?"
"Yes. Going home. Big plans." Why did she sound so brainless? Maybe it was the way he was watching her. She knew that look despite not having it in more than a year. There was avid interest there, and a faint intensity that she knew indicated desire. He was attractive in an understated way, with even, rugged features and a deep, quiet gravity about him. At one time, she would have tossed her hair back and smiled up at him. But now...
"Well, I'd better go. My boyfriend's waiting for me," she said, shifting from one foot to the other.
"Oh... uh–"
"You have a good weekend! Bye now!" She turned away.
"Wait!" He grabbed her arm. ::What the–:: She couldn't shake off his grip. "Stop that," he growled when she struggled.
When she saw that he was dragging her towards an alley, her thrashing became desperate. "Don't, you'll hurt yourself."
They were _in_ the alley. She opened her mouth to scream but he pushed her against the wall and clamped a hand over her face just before a cry could escape. She began hyperventilating.
::This _cannot_ be happening.::
"Now, listen to me; you're not safe anymore. People have been watching you. We have to take you away where we can protect you."
She stared at him over the top of his hand. Most of what he said did not register and what little that did made her think he was completely insane.
He shook her slightly. "Milady Elena, you have to listen: you're in danger."
::What?–::
"Oh, for Pete's sake–" an exasperated voice sounded further down the alley. There was no warning. One moment she was staring at Aaron, the next, there was a crack of pain and she blacked out.
* * *
Crystal Baron stood on the roof of the four-story building, watched the vampires prowl about the vicinity of exhibition center. Eventually, they regrouped and conferred. Crystal guessed by their body language that they were annoyed – and afraid.
::Yeah, if I had a boss that was ruthless and homicidal and I had to report that I'd messed up, I'd be scared too.::
The evening breeze was pulling locks of her hair out of its knot. It had gotten to the point where she might as well take the whole thing down.
Impulsively, she pulled the chopstick-like hair ornament off and shook out her wild auburn hair. ::Well, where's the fun of being a vampire hunter if you can't be a little dramatic at times?:: she asked rhetorically.
Bending, she picked up the crossbow, swapped the bolt for the chopstick and attached a note to the pointy tip. Taking a one-kneed stance, she raised the crossbow, aimed and pulled the trigger.
Her hair-tie buried itself halfway through an unfortunate vampire's shoulder, riveting her little Post-It in plain sight. Crystal felt like laughing out loud as she got to her feet. A couple of vamps looked up quickly the way the projectile had come. Even with her 'inferior' human eyes, she could see their bared fangs from four floors up.
She stood unmoving, an insolent smile on her face, with only her hair stirring in the wind. She waited until they had all read the note and turned to glare at her. Then she was gone.
* * *
_He couldn't find her._ Stefan was frantic.
She had told him that she would be home at about six. At eight, he could wait no longer and had gone to look for her at the convention hall. By then, the charity show was in full swing. Stefan stood by an emergency exit to avoid being trampled and scanned mind after mind, looking for the familiar, bright glow. _Nothing._ He tried again; still no luck.
He had to get away from the press of so many minds. Stefan fought his way out of the building, went around the back and climbed the fire escape. Up on the roof, he cast his mind through the city. _She had disappeared._
There was no trace of her – nothing he could detect. She couldn't have shielded from him, even if she tried. And why would she? Yesterday, perhaps. But after last night?
No, she wasn't hiding from him. That left the possibilities that she was _being hidden_ from him or–
Stefan wrenched his thought away from that path. He would have known if she... surely, he would have felt something.
He called Bonnie – tracked her down to where she was visiting her cousin – and begged her to do a scrying spell. He would have gone to her in person if he thought it would do any good, except that he dare not leave Seattle just in case Elena came back. Bonnie had called him back, trying not to sound frightened; she couldn't find Elena either. She named the two possibilities Stefan had already thought of, "She might be under some heavy shields that I can't scry through or..."
Yes: Or.
::Say it, Stefan. Or...she might be dead.::
He refused to acknowledge the thought; it was incomprehensible for them to have come all this way, only to have it end with a mugger's bloody blade or a rapist sadistic pleasure.
And besides, if it had been either of these, _he would have found her_. Some trace, some sign. But there were none. Stefan pushed aside suggestions from the tormenting inner voice about the more sinister reasons for people disappearing.
He thanked Bonnie, promised to let her know if there was any news and hung up. There was nothing to do but wait and keep searching. And hope.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
~ Eight ~
She had been right; this job was _great_!
Elena set down the box of pamphlets and dusted her hands with a satisfactory air. She was startled to see people heading off for home; a glance at her watch showed that the day had flown by. It was quitting time already.
Elena trotted over to where three people were waiting for Jayne's attention. When her turn came, she reported, "Stalls 23 through 33 are all set up. We might want to keep on eye on Number 28. They've brought a _lot_ of heavy-duty equipment and fancy display lighting with them. We got them an extension cable with additional power outlets, but they might still overload the system."
Jayne scribbled notes along the margin and looked up at her with a smile when she was done. "Good. Thank you, Elena. Enjoy your weekend. I'll see you on Monday."
Her smile warmed Elena. Feeling ridiculously cheerful, she grabbed her stuff and waved at a couple of colleagues on her way out. Stefan was waiting at home for her; maybe they would go out dancing tonight. It was the weekend, and–
"Hey, Elena."
A vaguely familiar looking young man fell into step with her. She stopped, recalling him from an occasional encounter around exhibition hall. She thought she had heard someone call him Aaron.
"Hi," she said.
He smiled, "Great job with the porcelain doll ladies. I was sure for a moment there that one of the guys was going to break one of the exhibits and use the shards to shut them up."
"Oh. Thanks." She tried to smile at his attempt at humor, but she honestly didn't find the suggestion funny. There was a moment of awkward silence.
Aaron cleared his throat. "So, you're heading home? Big plans for the weekend?"
"Yes. Going home. Big plans." Why did she sound so brainless? Maybe it was the way he was watching her. She knew that look despite not having it in more than a year. There was avid interest there, and a faint intensity that she knew indicated desire. He was attractive in an understated way, with even, rugged features and a deep, quiet gravity about him. At one time, she would have tossed her hair back and smiled up at him. But now...
"Well, I'd better go. My boyfriend's waiting for me," she said, shifting from one foot to the other.
"Oh... uh–"
"You have a good weekend! Bye now!" She turned away.
"Wait!" He grabbed her arm. ::What the–:: She couldn't shake off his grip. "Stop that," he growled when she struggled.
When she saw that he was dragging her towards an alley, her thrashing became desperate. "Don't, you'll hurt yourself."
They were _in_ the alley. She opened her mouth to scream but he pushed her against the wall and clamped a hand over her face just before a cry could escape. She began hyperventilating.
::This _cannot_ be happening.::
"Now, listen to me; you're not safe anymore. People have been watching you. We have to take you away where we can protect you."
She stared at him over the top of his hand. Most of what he said did not register and what little that did made her think he was completely insane.
He shook her slightly. "Milady Elena, you have to listen: you're in danger."
::What?–::
"Oh, for Pete's sake–" an exasperated voice sounded further down the alley. There was no warning. One moment she was staring at Aaron, the next, there was a crack of pain and she blacked out.
* * *
Crystal Baron stood on the roof of the four-story building, watched the vampires prowl about the vicinity of exhibition center. Eventually, they regrouped and conferred. Crystal guessed by their body language that they were annoyed – and afraid.
::Yeah, if I had a boss that was ruthless and homicidal and I had to report that I'd messed up, I'd be scared too.::
The evening breeze was pulling locks of her hair out of its knot. It had gotten to the point where she might as well take the whole thing down.
Impulsively, she pulled the chopstick-like hair ornament off and shook out her wild auburn hair. ::Well, where's the fun of being a vampire hunter if you can't be a little dramatic at times?:: she asked rhetorically.
Bending, she picked up the crossbow, swapped the bolt for the chopstick and attached a note to the pointy tip. Taking a one-kneed stance, she raised the crossbow, aimed and pulled the trigger.
Her hair-tie buried itself halfway through an unfortunate vampire's shoulder, riveting her little Post-It in plain sight. Crystal felt like laughing out loud as she got to her feet. A couple of vamps looked up quickly the way the projectile had come. Even with her 'inferior' human eyes, she could see their bared fangs from four floors up.
She stood unmoving, an insolent smile on her face, with only her hair stirring in the wind. She waited until they had all read the note and turned to glare at her. Then she was gone.
* * *
_He couldn't find her._ Stefan was frantic.
She had told him that she would be home at about six. At eight, he could wait no longer and had gone to look for her at the convention hall. By then, the charity show was in full swing. Stefan stood by an emergency exit to avoid being trampled and scanned mind after mind, looking for the familiar, bright glow. _Nothing._ He tried again; still no luck.
He had to get away from the press of so many minds. Stefan fought his way out of the building, went around the back and climbed the fire escape. Up on the roof, he cast his mind through the city. _She had disappeared._
There was no trace of her – nothing he could detect. She couldn't have shielded from him, even if she tried. And why would she? Yesterday, perhaps. But after last night?
No, she wasn't hiding from him. That left the possibilities that she was _being hidden_ from him or–
Stefan wrenched his thought away from that path. He would have known if she... surely, he would have felt something.
He called Bonnie – tracked her down to where she was visiting her cousin – and begged her to do a scrying spell. He would have gone to her in person if he thought it would do any good, except that he dare not leave Seattle just in case Elena came back. Bonnie had called him back, trying not to sound frightened; she couldn't find Elena either. She named the two possibilities Stefan had already thought of, "She might be under some heavy shields that I can't scry through or..."
Yes: Or.
::Say it, Stefan. Or...she might be dead.::
He refused to acknowledge the thought; it was incomprehensible for them to have come all this way, only to have it end with a mugger's bloody blade or a rapist sadistic pleasure.
And besides, if it had been either of these, _he would have found her_. Some trace, some sign. But there were none. Stefan pushed aside suggestions from the tormenting inner voice about the more sinister reasons for people disappearing.
He thanked Bonnie, promised to let her know if there was any news and hung up. There was nothing to do but wait and keep searching. And hope.