Free The Struggle by L. J. Smith

dancing?”
    “What’s your major?”
    He smiled at her. “American folklore. Did you know, for instance, that a mole on the neck means you’ll be wealthy? Do you mind if I check?”
    “
I
mind.” The voice came from behind Elena. It was clear and cold and quiet. Elena had heard Stefan speak in that tone only once: when he had found Tyler trying to assault her in the graveyard. Damon’s fingers stilled on her throat, and, released from his spell, she stepped back.
    “But do you matter?” he said.
    The two of them faced each other under the faintly flickering yellow light of the brass chandelier.
    Elena was aware of layers of her ownthoughts, like a parfait. Everyone’s staring; this must be better than the movies…. I didn’t realize Stefan was taller…. There’s Bonnie and Meredith wondering what’s going on…. Stefan’s angry but he’s still weak, still hurting…. If he goes for Damon now, he’ll lose….
    And in front of all these people. Her thoughts came to a clattering halt as everything fell into place. That was what Damon was here for, to make Stefan attack him, apparently unprovoked. No matter what happened after that, he won. If Stefan drove him away, it would just be more proof of Stefan’s “tendency toward violence.” More evidence for Stefan’s accusers. And if Stefan lost the fight …
    It would mean his life, thought Elena. Oh, Stefan, he’s so much stronger right now; please don’t do it. Don’t play into his hands. He
wants
to kill you; he’s just looking for a chance.
    She made her limbs move, though they were stiff and awkward as a marionette’s. “Stefan,” she said, taking his cold hand in hers, “let’s go home.”
    She could feel the tension in his body, like an electric current running underneath his skin.At this moment, he was completely focused on Damon, and the light in his eyes was like fire reflecting off a dagger blade. She didn’t recognize him in this mood, didn’t know him. He frightened her.
    “Stefan,”
she said, calling to him as if she were lost in fog and couldn’t find him. “Stefan,
please
.”
    And slowly, slowly, she felt him respond. She heard him breathe and felt his body go off alert, clicking down to some lower energy level. The deadly concentration of his mind was diverted and he looked at her, and saw her.
    “All right,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. “Let’s go.”
    She kept her hands on him as they turned away, one clasping his hand, the other tucked inside his arm. By sheer force of will, she managed not to look over her shoulder as they walked away, but the skin on her back tingled and crawled as if expecting the stab of a knife.
    Instead, she heard Damon’s low ironical voice: “And have you heard that kissing a red-haired girl cures fever blisters?” And then Bonnie’s outrageous, flattered laughter.
    On the way out, they finally ran into their host.
    “Leaving so soon?” Alaric said. “But I haven’t even had a chance to talk to you yet.”
    He looked both eager and reproachful, like a dog that knows perfectly well it’s
not
going to be taken on a walk but wags anyway. Elena felt worry blossom in her stomach for him and everyone else in the house. She and Stefan were leaving them to Damon.
    She’d just have to hope her earlier assessment was right and he wanted to continue the masquerade. Right now she had enough to do getting Stefan out of here before he changed his mind.
    “I’m not feeling very well,” she said as she picked up her purse where it lay by the ottoman. “Sorry.” She increased the pressure on Stefan’s arm. It would take very little to get him to turn back and head for the dining room right now.
    “I’m
sorry,” said Alaric. “Good-bye.”
    They were on the threshold before she saw the little slip of violet paper stuck into the side pocket of her purse. She pulled it out and unfolded it almost by reflex, her mind on other things.
    There was writing on it, plain and bold and