vampire diaries the return midnight | Page 7

he no longer had the knife. An instant later, horror just catching up with his hand, he was snatching it from her throat. His telepathic blast was entirely reflexive:

What in Hell are you doing? Killing yourself because of what I said? This blade is like a razor!

Elena faltered. �I was just making a nick��

�You almost made a nick that spurted six feet high!� At least he was able to speak again, despite the constriction of his throat.

Elena was back on stable ground too. �I told you I knew you knew you�d have to try blood before you�ll try to eat. It feels as if it�s flowing down my neck again. This time, let�s not waste it.�

She was only telling the truth. At least she hadn�t seriously hurt herself. He could see that fresh blood was flowing from the new cut she�d so recklessly made. To waste it would be idiotic.

Utterly dispassionate now, Damon took her again by the shoulders. He tilted up her chin to look at her soft, rounded throat. Several new ruby cuts were flowing freely.

Half a millennium of instinct told Damon that just there was nectar and ambrosia. Just there was sustenance and rest and euphoria. Just here where his lips were
as he bent to her a second time�and he had only to taste it�to drink�

Damon reared back, trying to force himself to swallow, determined not to spit. It wasn�t�it wasn�t utterly revolting. He could see how humans, with their degraded senses, could make use of the animal varieties. But this coagulating, mineral- tasting stuff wasn�t blood� it had none of the perfumed bouquet, the heady richness, the sweet, velvety, provocative, life-giving, ineffable attributes of blood.

It was like some sort of bad joke. He was tempted to bite Elena, just to skim a canine over the common carotid, making a tiny scratch, so he could taste the little burst that would explode onto his palate, to compare, to make sure that the real stuff wasn�t in there somehow. In fact he was more than tempted; he was doing it. But no blood was coming.

His mind paused in midthought. He�d made a scratch all right�a scratch like a scuff. It hadn�t even broken the outer layer of Elena�s skin.

Blunt teeth.

Damon found himself pressing on a canine with his tongue, willing it to extend, willing it with all his cramped and frustrated soul to sharpen.

And�nothing. Nothing. But then, he�d spent all day doing the same thing. Miserably, he let Elena�s head turn back.

�That�s it?� she said shakily. She was trying so hard to be brave with him! Poor doomed white soul with her demon lover. �Damon, you can try again,� she told him. �You can bite harder.�

�It�s no good,� he snapped. �You�re useless��

Elena almost slid to the floor. He kept her upright while snarling in her ear, �You know what I meant by that. Or would you prefer to be my dinner rather than my princess?�

Elena simply shook her head mutely. She rested in the circle of his arms, her head against his shoulder. Little wonder that she needed rest after all he�d put her through. But as for how she found his shoulder a comfort�well, that was beyond him.

Sage! Damon sent the furious thought out on all the frequencies he could access, just as he had been doing all day. If only he could find Sage, all his problems would be solved. Sage, he demanded, where are you?

No answer. For all Damon knew, Sage had managed to operate the Gateway to the Dark Dimension that was even now standing, powerless and useless, in Mrs. Flowers�s garden. Stranding Damon here. Sage was always that blindingly fast when he took off.

And why had he taken off?

Imperial Summons? Sometimes Sage got them. From the Fallen One, who lived in the Infernal Court, at the lowest of the Dark Dimensions. And when Sage did get them, he was expected to be in that dimension instantly, in mid-word, in mid-caress, in mid�whatever. So far Sage had always made the deadline, Damon knew that. He knew it because Sage was still alive.

On the afternoon of Damon�s catastrophic bouquet investigation Sage had left on the mantel a polite note thanking Mrs. Flowers for her hospitality, and even leaving his gigantic dog, Saber, and his falcon, Talon, for the protection of the household�a note doubtlessly pre-prepared. He had gone the way he always did, as unpredictably as the wind, and without saying good-bye. Undoubtedly he�d thought that Damon would find his way out of the problem easily. There were a number of vampires in Fell�s Church.