Free Stefan's Diaries 1 - Origins by L J Smith Page A

long, sharp teeth. A vampire, he said with conviction, glancing around the circle to see if he’d impressed any of us. But because he’d been pale and scrawny and not any good at shooting, we’d laughed and mocked him mercilessly. He and his family had moved to Richmond the next year.
    “Well, I’d take vampires over an insane father,”
    Damon said, kicking Jake’s flanks and riding off into the sunset. I turned toward Father, expecting an angry tirade. But Father simply shook his head.
    “Do you believe me, son?” he asked.
    I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure what I believed. All I knew was that somehow, in the past week, the whole world had changed, and I wasn’t sure where I fit in anymore.
    “Good.” Father nodded as we rode out of the forest and onto the bridge. “We must be careful. It seems the war has awakened the vampires. It’s as if they can smell blood.”
    The word blood echoed in my mind as we directed our horses to walk away from the cemetery and toward the shortcut through the fields that would lead to the pond. In the distance, I could see the sun reflecting on the pond’s surface.
    No one would ever imagine this verdant, rolling land as being a place where demons walked.
    Demons, if they existed at all, belonged in the old country, amid the decrepit churches and castles Father had grown up with. All the words Father said were familiar, but they sounded so strange in the place where he was saying them.
    Father glanced around as if to make sure no one was hiding in the bushes near the bridge. The horses were walking alongside the graveyard now, the headstones bright and imposing in the now, the headstones bright and imposing in the warm summer light. “Blood is what they feed on. It gives them power.”
    “But then …,” I said, as the information whirled in my brain. “If they are immortal, then how are we to …”
    “Kill them?” Father asked, finishing my thought.
    He pulled the reins on his horse. “There are methods. I’ve been learning. I’ve heard there’s a priest in Richmond who can try to exorcise them, but then people in town know … some things,” he finished. “Jonathan Gilbert and Sheriff Forbes and I have discussed some preliminary measures.” “If there’s anything I can do …,” I offered finally, unsure what to say.
    “Of course,” Father said brusquely. “I expect you to be part of our committee. For starters, I’ve been talking to Cordelia. She knows her herbs, and she says there’s a plant called vervain.”
    Father’s hand fluttered to the flower on his lapel.
    “We will come up with a plan. And we will prevail.
    Because while they may have immortality, we have God on our side. It is kill or be killed. Do you understand me, boy? This is the war you’re being drafted to fight.”
    I nodded, feeling the full weight of the responsibility on my shoulders. Maybe this was what I was meant to be doing: not getting married or going off to war, but fighting an unnatural evil. I met Father’s gaze.

    “I’ll do whatever you want,” I said. “Anything.”
    The last thing I saw before I galloped back to the stable was the huge grin on Father’s face. “I knew you would, son. You are a true Salvatore.”

13
    I walked back to my room, unsure what to think. Vampiros. Vampires. The word sounded wrong, no matter what language it was in.
    Coyotes. That was a word that made sense. After all, a coyote was just like a wolf, a wild animal drawn to the confusing tangle of the deep Virginia woods. If Rosalyn was killed by a coyote, it would be tragic, but understandable. But for Rosalyn to be killed by a demon ?
    I laughed, the sound coming out like a short bark as I strode into my bedroom and sat with my head in my hands. My headache had returned with renewed vigor, and I remembered Emily’s request that I not eat Cordelia’s cooking. On top of everything else, it seemed the servants were turning on each other.
    Suddenly, I heard three soft raps on the