A.N.: Hi everyone, thank you so much for all the reviews, I love 'em! This chapter...shows what Giulia is willing to endure to protect her friends.
Dangerous Beauty
35
Jules in the Library with a Shotgun
To consume the feast she had been practicing with, and to say thank-you to Sheila and Jenna for the rides into Richmond over the course of the last week, Giulia had thought it would be nice to host a dinner-party. Select in-the-know guests they didn't have to watch their conversations around, and amazing (if she did say so herself) food; Rose had offered to help, and because of her guest-list, the dinner would be hosted at the Boarding House; she had recommended elasticated waistlines. So it was yet again working on that that led Giulia back to the Boarding House. Ric, curious about her project, had asked her to help him grade some essays, and wanting to use Giulia's project as an example to bored students how creative they could be with history, had joined her for a takeout dinner.
"I met Elijah the other day," he remarked.
"Did you?"
"At the tea-party. Could be more badass things to masquerade as than a historical writer," Ric sighed, looking grumpy.
"High-school history teacher role has already been filled, Mr Van Helsing," Giulia smirked. Ric quirked his eyebrows expressively, marking an essay with a red letter D.
"He's one scary dude," Ric sighed. "But, with nice hair… Jenna thinks he's charming."
"And you're jealous," Giulia chuckled, brutalising someone's essay – how did one confuse Elizabeth Tudor and Elizabeth Taylor? "You can't be worried. Jenna adores you – it's annoying how often she gushes over you. I've suffered many a play-by-play on our way to school. Thank you, for that; I'm not traumatised enough already."
"Really?"
"In shuddering detail," Giulia said grimly.
"I just don't want her in harm's way; and it's easy to forget how dangerous that guy is when he's so calm and soft-spoken."
"Jenna knows who and what he is," Giulia said gently. "She's just a little more relaxed around him, because she knows I've got a contingency plan in place." Ric watched her.
"You know this isn't on you," Ric said solemnly. "You've no responsibility to anyone to get involved."
"I'm clever enough to affect the outcome," Giulia said, shrugging. "So why shouldn't I?"
"So this is about you being smarter than everyone else," Ric rolled his eyes, "not doing everything you can to help your friend."
"We're not friends," Giulia shrugged, unconcerned. She didn't miss Elena. Or Bonnie. She felt so much lighter for not suffering their friendship. "But that doesn't mean I want Elena to die."
Ric sighed, looking over another essay. "You couldn't pay me to be in high-school again."
"Me neither," Giulia agreed. She frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be over at Jenna's now?"
"I'm staying the night – Jenna wants to gently break Elena and Jeremy into the idea of me being around," Ric said.
"Has Jeremy even looked you in the eye yet?" Giulia asked, smirking.
"He tell you about that, or did Jenna?" Ric blushed.
"Oh, Jem. He gives me all the good stuff," Giulia smiled. "I wouldn't worry; the rate Jeremy goes through girls, the situation's bound to be reversed at some point."
"Well, that's something to look forward to," Ric shuddered, and Giulia laughed, handing him a pile of graded essays. "Guess you've finished your homework, Mr Saltzman."
"I guess so. Thanks for doing this, I appreciate it," Ric smiled.
"I know," Giulia smiled back.
"You stay here," Ric said, packing up his things. "I can see myself out."
"Mm. I'm at a very precarious point with this jelly," Giulia murmured thoughtfully.
"Well, I'm very excited to see the finished product," Ric smiled. "Let me know if I can bring anything."
"Just your fine girlfriend," Giulia said. "Be prepared for a glorious feast – and, close to midnight, indigestion that makes you wish for death." Ric chuckled, giving her a one-armed hug and left the kitchen, leaving Giulia to an Eden of blancmange, candied fruit and adorable quail-eggs for an almond-apricot kedgeree-type dish.
The idea of hosting a dinner-party for the people she enjoyed sounded like such a lovely idea – grown-up. She couldn't remember her dad having people over for dinner, ever; nobody wanted to come to the creepiest house in Mystic Falls if they didn't have to. And this was better than the dinner she was hosting for the Historical Society; she actually liked her guests, and they truly appreciated the scale of her research for the dinner.
She had made sure Liz wasn't working that night; that Sheila, Ric and Jenna could come; that Caroline and Rose would help her get everything ready; that Damon wouldn't make any snide jokes at Tyler's expense, that neither Bonnie nor Elena would be there; and Jenna had invited Elijah.
She licked blueberry glaze off her finger, pulling a thoughtful face at the heat from some fresh ginger, and glanced up sharply, turning off the stove as she heard something clatter loudly down the corridor, and a groaning noise. She turned off the stove, tiptoeing the corridor, and her lips parted as Ric staggered, his hands bloody as they left his stomach, colliding with the credenza, rolling to the floor on his back. Giulia peered at him, the ring on his finger, and breathed a sigh of relief, before ducking, the needle avoiding her neck as she dodged, striking out.
The scrawny werewolf grunted as she snatched out to grab and sadistically maim his groin, dislocating his jaw as he buckled, and sent him sprawling on his back with a shuddering kick. Pain shot through her hand, which she had used out of habit to punch him, forgetting the cast, her broken hand.
How many others were with him? At least five, the ones she and Damon had allowed to live. The arrests, bail-money, hundreds of dollars in fines and five dead friends should have been enough to coerce these guys to leave town. But they were dealing with supernatural ego and pack mentality over common-sense.
Another attacker jumped in, shorter, stockier; she took a hit to the face that bloodied the inside of her cheek, sending a spray of her blood against the wall as she groaned and buckled, playing possum. Better to give in quickly than sustain injuries she would take weeks to heal from; pain radiated through the back of her skull, and she dropped like a stone.
She came blearily into consciousness, moaning; moving her head shattered pain through her skull, her brain pounding against the bone. Concussion. She blew out a breath on a sigh, squinting in the dark. The library swam into focus, all of the shelves doubled, flickering with distorted shadows, and she was dimly aware of a crackling noise behind her, uncomfortably hot. If they'd set fire to her library they were dead.
She then became acutely aware of the weight around her torso, her arms, and the stinging discomfort around her neck. She lowered her eyes without moving her head; chains bound her to a familiar high-backed chair, bending her arms to the arms of the chair; someone had put a collar on her.
"Morning, sunshine," a voice said brightly. Skinny, eerie werewolf guy smirked at her, holding two chains.
"Not that I'm not flattered by the attention," she moaned, "but isn't all of this overkill?"
"Y'know, I saw this movie once – some torture-porn flick – and they had this collar device that was really cool," the guy said joyfully. "So I just modified it some, and when I pull –" Giulia hissed at the unexpected pain shooting from the back of her neck. Was this guy trying to paralyse her?
"You keep doing that, my head's coming clean off," Giulia hissed, glaring at him.
"So," a familiar voice said, and Giulia rolled her eyes. "I hear that you have the moonstone."
"You again," Giulia sighed, rearranging her posture in the chair; grand, queenly, bored. Jules sauntered over, shotgun over her shoulder. "I'm afraid you're a little behind the times. The moonstone is old news."
"Tyler doesn't think so."
"Did you torture that information out of him?"
"There was some coercion. Here's how this is going to work," Jules said, prowling closer. "You're going to tell us where the moonstone is."
"And why would I do that?" Giulia sighed. Jules glanced at the guy with the chains, who jerked them. Pain circled the back of her neck, and she grunted in discomfort, then laughed. "Pain?! Is that all you've got?"
"It's all we need," Jules smiled. Giulia scoffed. These people – were animals. They could smell fear, would enjoy her pain. So she wouldn't give them the satisfaction; they didn't deserve her fear. And they would regret her pain.
"Well, you're welcome to do you worst," Giulia shrugged within the confines of her chains, her head throbbing. "It should be entertaining. Understand that whatever you do to me is futile; I simply can't tell or show you where the moonstone is." She had taken mystical precautions to make sure the truth could not be stolen or coerced from her.
"Oh, I'm sure with the right motivation, you can," Jules smirked. Giulia sighed.
"You attacked Damon, and failed to kill him, or me; you kidnapped my best-friend and five of your friends died," Giulia said. "Your motivation needs a more thorough planning process."
"I prefer the element of surprise," Jules smiled nastily.
"You mean you prefer reckless and sloppy," Giulia corrected, annoyed by the hot blood trickling down her cleavage. She scowled at the younger girl pointing the shotgun at her, glaring. "You, yeah, the liability. Put the gun down, unless one of these guys actually showed you how to use it. See, the thing is, the deck is still stacked in my favour." She leaned back in her chair. "You've come in here, with your thugs and your guns, and torturer – and the pack slut. But you've forgotten one very important thing."
"And what's that?"
"I'm human. There's only so much my body can endure, and I can't be coerced by anything to reveal where the moonstone is," Giulia shrugged. "Unless you have vampire-blood to heal me from what you do, it'll be over very quickly. And if you feed me vampire blood, I'm in danger of turning if you do one wrong thing – and it'll be my advantage – again. So put the shotgun down; it's redundant. You can't hurt me."
"Oh. We can," Jules smirked.
Giulia sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Torturing me won't make any difference to the outcome. I cannot tell you."
"You talk a big game," Jules said quietly. "We'll see how long that lasts. Stevie." Giulia sighed, resolving not to show fear, or her pain. If they were going to torture her, she'd retaliate, watching the other wolves, learning their tells, watching who winced, the ashen cast to the other girl's skin as she averted her eyes, shocked.
"Really, you're going to stick me there?" Do you want this to be over in minutes? Clearly you never studied anatomy! Have you even done this before?!" Giulia asked, as Stevie approached her with another red-hot blade still hissing from the fire. It was hard to focus on anything through her pain, but her irritation that he was botching her torture was too much. He was obviously used to torturing vampires who healed instantly, so it didn't matter where he stuck them.
She was making them uncomfortable. Delirious as she was with pain, adrenaline flooding her body so violently she shook, bleeding and broken, but she wasn't breaking.
Nausea churned violently, she was covered in sweat; her cast was ripped on the carpet, her hand crushed by Stevie, fingers shattered and trembling. Her left leg was an agony she could barely see through, adrenaline pushing off shock; Stevie had cut open her thigh and split her femur, twisting the blade to open the bone, revealing her marrow. He had left the blade there, unadulterated agony rolling through her body. The scent of her own blood made her gag.
Damon wouldn't be happy; her blood had ruined the rug, her right foot bare, the tips of her toes scattered on the bloody carpet where Stevie had let them fall from his gardening shears, the sole of her other foot black from bruising and burns where he'd smacked her foot with a burning log from the fire, pain shattering through her every time movement jostled her leg. The wounds to her shoulders wept, soaking her top. It felt like she was on fire; and she had to keep her eyes off the knife through her femur. Blood trickled hotly down her neck where he had sliced her face, and her cheeks were swollen from his hits, after plucking some of her teeth.
She had to laugh, though, when his vervain toys did nothing. She saw the look he exchanged with Jules; she knew she smelled odd, she knew she had been hurt by the Gilbert device – but she was not a vampire. But she was trained and lethal, anticipating reactions; that made her fast, made it seem like she was reacting with superhuman instinct.
"Are you bored yet?" she asked, through swollen, bloody lips. She felt like she had when she'd had four teeth pulled for her orthodontic treatments. Her body was flooded with adrenaline to combat the pain; and she gave a shaky laugh at Stevie's frustration. She'd profiled him in seconds; a sexual sadist. He enjoyed what he was doing to her; but her reactions were making him angry. Her pain, her fear should've gotten him off; she refused to scream in pain, to show fear. She refused to let them get to her. She eyed the others, bored; they were still rattled from her profiling of them, pinpointing the sorest areas of their insecurity.
"Let me guess," she had panted, her leg shaking, toes curled in pain as the sole of her foot throbbed. She eyed one of the guys lurking uneasily behind Jules. "Foster-care, right? In and out of group homes and juvi until you were eighteen; by then, you were up to your teeth in a gang. Initiation was a random execution. Second you turned, you could smell everyone for what they were… And you – military. Good family, mildly religious, you grew up athletic, respecting your mother. That's why you can't look me in the eye; you know she'd be ashamed, and you've never hurt a woman before. It's not in your nature to be cruel. But you're loyal to your alpha, because he's military like you, frustrated with having to leave that life behind… What's your name?"
"Hayley Marshall."
"Adopted, right? Upper-middle-class parents, you were their only child. Indulged, taken care of; no responsibilities. At school, you were popular because you were pretty," Giulia said. "But you always knew you weren't really their daughter, and you didn't really deserve them, or trust that they wouldn't give you back. You remembered the group-homes, the foster-care. That's why you pushed them. You acted out. Hung out with the wrong guys, tried things you shouldn't. All the guys knew if they wanted a good time, give you a couple drinks. You got a reputation for being the life of the party. Until one day, it all went tragically wrong."
"It was an accident," Hayley bit out, gritting her teeth.
"Still dead," Giulia said curtly. "See, that's what I don't get. You want to lift the curse but how do you not deserve this? Do none of you have any respect for the fact you are what you are because you killed people?"
"We've all made mistakes," Jules said quietly. Giulia watched her carefully.
"And you carry yours with you," she said softly. "Teenage abortion. You were frightened and unprepared… Guess they are already people. And now you take in and try and look after every stray you stumble across." Her eyes flitted to Hayley, incongruous amongst them, young, untrained, self-absorbed and ultimately a liability. Selfish, irresponsible, but not dangerous.
She let out a groan, laughing as Jules took the knife from Stevie and stabbed her.
He stood quietly in the dark, and blinked at the vibration in his pocket. Stepping away from the window and sighing, he glanced at the illuminated screen, and frowned.
"Jenna…to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?" he asked.
"Elijah…you know your promise to Elena? I don't want to overreact, but Ric was at the Boarding House with Giulia and he was supposed to be home hours ago," Jenna said anxiously. "Ric told me the werewolves attacked Damon at the house and took Caroline and – I'm worried. Would you mind meeting me there?"
Elijah swallowed. "I'm already at the Boarding House."
"You are?"
"Sheila Bennett is on her way, but she is travelling from Richmond," Elijah said quietly, glancing back at the house, the windows glowing amber. "Your Alaric is here, too… I can't get in." There was a pause.
"I'm on my way over," Jenna said sternly.
"Don't park on the drive, I shall meet you," Elijah said softly. He met the shining Mini Cooper at the side of the road, opening Jenna's door for her.
"So…why were you at the Boarding House?"
"I had the same instinct as you," Elijah said softly, adding urgently, aware his voice broke as he said, "Professor Bennett has taken magical precaution to alert her if any of you come to harm; she called me and told me to get over here. But I can't get in."
"She's on her way over here?" Jenna asked. "After work she's usually at least one julep in."
"She's headed straight here from her school campus," Elijah said softly. "She knows Giulia refuses vampire-blood to heal." Jenna gazed at him uneasily, then frowned, schooling her features into a determined frown. He sighed softly. "I smelled their blood from miles away."
"Ric has his ring; he'll be okay," Jenna said calmly.
"The werewolves are still inside," Elijah said softly. "Alaric and Giulia will not thank me for letting you walk into danger."
"I'm not asking you to let me; I asked you here to come with me," Jenna said, with the stern bite of a parent. The front-door stood ajar, so tantalising; a dark shape was slumped on the expensive rug in the foyer. "Oh my god – Ric!" Jenna pulled her arm from his grip, darting into the house, to the floor, to her boyfriend, glassy-eyed, his antique ring glinting on his finger. Jenna breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of it; she glanced up, her expression urgent, and gestured at him. "Get in here!"
He stepped over the threshold, unbuttoning his jacket.
Elijah strolled to the panelled library, following Giulia's blood, her uneven heartbeat, the stench of werewolves sweating as they watched her brave their torture. He could taste her courage on the air; their discomfort.
He smiled at the sound of the shotgun being snatched out of the girl's hands by the jumpier, uncouth, tattooed one, the barrel aimed at him, striding into the room. He descended the steps, strolling up to Giulia sat like an empress in her blood-soaked chair, a wicked blade wedged in her split femur, bruised and swollen. Gently, he tucked a lock of her sweat-soaked, bloody hair behind her ear, gently pressing her earlobe between his thumb and forefinger, an affectionate little touch that always made her squirm in her sleep, preening like a cat.
Her eyes closed, and she turned her face away, the first time showing some other emotion than irony and disdain.
She was a mess.
And she knew it.
She didn't want him to see her like this – broken. Not beautiful. But she didn't understand; there was so much in her defiance, a strength of character that transcended her physical beauty.
"I'm afraid your futile little exercise has come to an end," he said softly. His family always knew when he was at his most dangerous, as did Giulia; his voice became calmer, and so gentle.
"We want the moonstone."
"Yes, I have been made aware," Elijah said quietly. "You should have listened to the young-lady behind me. I believe you were warned to leave Mystic Falls."
"We want the –"
"Moonstone, yes," Elijah sighed.
"As you can see, precautions have been taken to ensure its safety. I am one of those," Elijah smiled lethally. "You should not have harmed her."
Fidgety choked up his hold on the shotgun; Elijah bent the barrel in half, the butt shattering as the wolf crumpled, his bloody heart dropping to the ruined rug. The stoic African-American set his jaw and darted forward; Elijah didn't bat an eye as he plucked the heart from his shattered ribcage. He set his eyes on scrawny, who dropped to his knee, covering his head with his jacket.
"Stand up, dear," Elijah sighed. "At least meet your fate like a man." Scrawny shook as he rose, chin tucked to his chest. Elijah smiled lethally, choking the wolf until he passed out. "And what a fate it shall be."
"What the hell went on in here?" a masculine voice asked, and Elijah glanced up from the chains. "Oh my god." Alaric Saltzman, pale and confused, stared at Giulia enthroned by the fire. His eyes went straight to Elijah. "What did you do?!"
"Ric? Wait – I invited Elijah in, I – Oh my god!" Jenna's eyes were the size of quarters as she stumbled into the library after Mr Saltzman, tripping down the stairs. "Oh my god. Giulia! Oh my… Giulia." Jenna tiptoed around the dead werewolves, tears spilling down her cheeks, staggering to her knees beside Giulia, panicking, overwhelmed by emotion, powerless to help.
"Until Professor Bennett arrives, we will need towels," Elijah said softly. "Giulia, I'm going to remove the chains and collar and that knife. May I?" Giulia lifted her finger in acknowledgement, closing her eyes and inhaling shakily. Delicately, respecting her injuries, Elijah removed the collar, unwrapping the many chains used to bind Giulia to the chair, and swiftly plucked the blade from her femur. Her tiny gasp shot through him, and he took in her face, shining with sweat and her own blood, cut up and bruised, swollen until she was almost unrecognisable. Elijah was trying not to see her injuries, knowing how embarrassed she was by her appearance, being seen…to be vulnerable. Giulia was not a young-woman who knew how to be taken care of; independent and ferociously protective and loyal to her friends. She was the protector, the shield in the shadows. She had forgotten how to be the one other people took care of.
"What happened to the girls?" he asked, clamping his jacket over Giulia's thigh to stem the blood.
"I only saw two blurs," Jenna shrugged, looking stricken and nauseated, her eyes, bloodshot and teary, on Giulia's face. Elijah's ears twitched, and he tilted his head toward the sound.
"Professor Bennett is here," he said softly.
"I'll go meet her," Jenna said, darting up from the ruined carpet, blood staining the knees of her jeans.
"Baby," Professor Bennett sighed as she entered the room, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she drifted over to Giulia, clucking her tongue. Elijah glanced at her; she'd known exactly what was happening the moment he had contacted her. She had set up early-warning systems on all of those she cared about; one glimpse into a flame in her office and she had seen through the fire in the Boarding House library. "It's alright, sugar, I'm here."
Elijah offered her his hand before she could even ask, setting her things down on the leather-sofa, pushing up her sleeves. She stooped down to the carpet, clicking her tongue, picking up Giulia's teeth, the tips of her toes from her right foot. Elijah clenched his jaw, squashing his rage, his heartbreak – how deeply upset he was at the sight of her, what had been done to her, and how bravely she had endured it. Sheila Bennett's hand was as warm and soft as it had been the first time she had used him to channel more power to siphon werewolf venom from Giulia. Her attention was entirely on Giulia; she closed her eyes, and Elijah felt the gentle tug of her channelling power. The only indication any magic was being used was Giulia: the swelling reduced, the bruising faded, and the blood soaked into the carpet seeped back toward Giulia. As she squirmed in discomfort, still trying not to make any noise – still trying to appear strong, indifferent, as if she wasn't suffering – Elijah reached down and took her hand, her fingers healed, straight; she gave a shaky breath, and clutched his hand, hard, raising her eyes to his for the first time since he had appeared in the library.
It was eerie, watching the tips of her toes seamlessly reattach, her jagged thigh wound knit itself back together leaving smooth, unmarked flesh, she finally grimaced and whimpered in discomfort as her molars fixed themselves into her bloody gums.
When Sheila was finished, Elijah let out a pent-up breath, pressing his eyes closed to counteract the slight dizziness, a side-effect of Professor Bennett channelling him.
Giulia was, physically, flawless. Not a mark remained, though she was still covered in sweat, some of her own blood, her clothes were torn, singed. As Professor Bennett sighed and went to pour herself a drink, her hand shaking, Jenna silently crying against Alaric Saltzman's chest, staring stoically at Giulia, concealing how upset he was. It had been a long time since Elijah had seen torture like that. And the werewolves called his kind the remorseless monsters.
Slowly, Giulia shifted in the chair, wiggling her toes, not looking at her left thigh, subtly flexing her fingers, her jaw working, eyes glassy and faraway. Elijah went down on his knees, clasping Giulia's now-unbroken hands in his, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. Her skin was pale and flawless, under the mess of sweat and blood; but her pale eyes glowed and came into focus as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, stealing a much-needed kiss. He cradled her face, letting her see how upset he was by what had happened to her, pressing another kiss to her lips, stroking her cheek with his thumb.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he said softly. She shook her head slightly, shifting on the blood-stained chair, and stood, testing her weight on her own feet. He frowned in concern as he watched her drift out of the library, and followed after exchanging a look with Jenna. "Giulia?" He followed, and found Giulia in the corridor leading into the foyer, frowning intensely at some of the panelling. In the dim amber lighting, Elijah watched Giulia scowl intensely at the wood, and Giulia reached out, feeling the trim of the panelling.
"Giulia?"
"Something's different," she murmured vaguely, and Elijah watched her hook her fingertips around the panelling, drawing open a hidden door. The scent of dust tickled his nose, obviously it hadn't been disturbed in a long time, and Giulia's lips parted in delighted surprise.
"You'd no idea this was here?" Elijah said softly, as Giulia sank to her knees, half-disappearing into a secret compartment. Despite everything, he took a moment to enjoy the view.
"None," Giulia said softly, and Elijah glanced over his shoulder as Sheila Bennett appeared, frowning softly, holding a drink. Giulia's dark head, covered in cobwebs and dust, reappeared, dragging an old trunk with her, piled high with some very old cardboard boxes. Opening one, Elijah caught a glimpse of well-loved paperback novels, letters, leather photo-albums, an old newspaper and journals, all covered in a layer of dust. Giulia reached in slowly, frowning at a handful of small vintage-looking photographs. He caught a glimpse of a photograph of several people in vintage clothing, clustered in front of a mint-blue Oldsmobile: he had to take a second-glance at the dark-haired woman. So like Giulia, but her looks were more mature, in her late-twenties, staggeringly beautiful, all cheekbones and glorious penetrating eyes full of irony and delight, a tall dark drink of water; he thought it was possibly her mother, Gianna, but Giulia's mother's eyes had been a blazing blue like sapphires. This…was an older Giulia, with shorter hair and a fuller figure she had grown into. She stood with her arms and ankles crossed, smirking, next to a dark-haired man who looked very like her, a young teenage-boy, Caroline Forbes with her hair perfectly curled, and two others he didn't recognise, a man with chestnut curls and an exquisite teenage girl with a beautiful pale oval Madonna face and shimmering blonde hair. The clothes they wore did not look like reproduction, the photograph was old, but in the brief glimpse he saw of it, he knew it was without a doubt Giulia.
Giulia's lips parted in confusion; she caught his eye as she tucked the photographs away, and he knew she didn't want him prying, however curious he was.
Sheila Bennett pressed a fingertip to the old wood panelling, her expression thoughtful as she looked at the smear of blood on it.
"What are you seeing?"
"All magic leaves traces," Sheila said softly. She glanced at Giulia. "Someone hid all this with magic, a long time ago."
"Who?"
"I don't know, baby, but I do know somethin' special bound the spell," Sheila said.
"What's that?"
"Blood," Sheila said. "Only one person could reveal this hidey-hole. The same person who sealed it.
"You mean me," Giulia said quietly. "How is that possible?" She glanced down at the photographs in the box. "I've never seen this stuff before. Except the trunk."
"You've seen this before?"
"Yeah. It's up in the attic. Full of my uncle, Joshua's things," Giulia said quietly, staring at the photographs in her hands, confused.
"There's something odd about this place," Sheila frowned, placing her palm against the wood, eyes closed.
"Very," Giulia said softly, opening a vintage jewellery box. Elijah saw the confused look on her face as she plucked out a delicate pearl ring, dusty, but identical the one on her finger.
Sheila Bennett opened her eyes, gave Giulia a perplexed look, and glanced at Elijah. "You got a pen and paper?"
"In the kitchen," Giulia murmured vaguely, and Elijah followed his nose to the more modern kitchen, where Giulia's books were spread out. He picked up a notebook, turning it to the next clean page, and handed it to Sheila.
"What did you see?" Elijah asked curiously. Sheila offered her hands to them, and Elijah took it without hesitation; Giulia glanced at him, but clasped Sheila's fingers. Closing his eyes, he saw a shadowy, ghostlike jumble of images. Giulia, laughing; a grand Schubert concerto echoing, distorted; a teenage boy plucking weeds in a vegetable-garden; agonised screams; the crackle of a fire; Caroline Forbes' voice sighing softly; the undeniable surge of grief and pain and elation; a young-woman's lilting Irish voice reading haltingly; he could feel magic, he could feel pain and joy, delight. There was a strange, echoing quality to the images, ghostlike, intangible, hazy images not quite in focus. He saw a glimpse of model airplanes drifting around in the air over a familiar garden; saw supernatural fights; Mozart by candlelight; Giulia lounging in bed with the young-looking woman he recognised from the photograph; Giulia crying, her back against the same cellar door where she had discovered her father's dead body, Caroline on the other side, tipping a bottle to her lips; laughter, as Giulia helped prepare a meal with a man who looked strikingly like her, and a shy teenage boy who looked at her with utter adoration and respect in his eyes; a beautiful, crazed woman spewing vitriol, violent and abusive to a young-woman Elijah thought he knew.
Elijah released Sheila Bennett's hand on a gasp, the feeling of terror and ecstasy overwhelming him. "What was that?"
"A scar," Sheila said softly, "on the very fabric of the world. Whatever was happening while that trunk was being hidden, was so strong an event it scarred itself into the very memory of this place."
"That can happen?" Giulia asked.
"Where d'you think ghosts come from?" Sheila smiled sadly. "They're not restless spirits; they're Nature's memories. Some are stronger, more devastating than others. Like us, Nature's most traumatic memories stick around. When there's magic involved, it helps."
"Do you know who hid this stuff here with my blood?" Giulia asked, eyeing the hidden cupboard.
"No. Took talent to hide this so completely, I can only barely sense magic's been used, and only because you just broke the spell," Sheila said, looking fond. She frowned at the cupboard, though, as if trying to figure something out. "Oh, hold on. There's a message here, someone's left."
"I can't see anything else in there," Giulia frowned into the dusty gloom of the cupboard.
"Mm-mm," Sheila hummed, reaching out her hand, closing her eyes. Giulia's lips parted, and Elijah shifted uneasily as magical writing appeared, shimmering, on the wall. Sheila copied it down exactly without opening her eyes, as the lettering faded.
"What does it say?" Elijah asked. A vampire, but a Muggle, Elijah had never learned how to understand magical writing. It was for all intents and purposes an alien language; something Isak and Kol had shared with Mother, something he and his other siblings had respected but never understood.
"It's the spell created specifically to…send the trunk here," Sheila frowned at the notepad.
"What do you mean, send?" Elijah frowned.
"Not sure," Sheila murmured.
"Who left the message?" Giulia asked. Sheila blinked over at her.
"You did."
A.N.: Intrigue! I'm afraid you won't get answers until the sequel!
