passed down in my family for generations. We will do everything we can for you.”
Which, Bonnie observed, was a very sweet and ladylike way of putting Dr. Celia Connor in her place. She was to drink her tea and recuperate, and they would figure out how to solve the problem. Celia’s eyes flashed, but she sipped her tea obediently.
“Now,” Mrs. Flowers said, looking around at the others, “it seems to me that the first thing to do is to figure out what the intention is behind the appearance of the names. Once we do that, perhaps we will have a better idea of who might be behind their appearance.”
“Maybe to warn us?” Bonnie said hesitantly. “I mean, Celia’s name appeared, and then she almost died, and now Meredith . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked at Meredith apologetically. “I’m worried you might be in danger.”
Meredith squared her shoulders. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” she said.
Mrs. Flowers nodded briskly. “Yes, it’s possible that the appearance of the names has a benevolent intention. Let’s explore that theory. Someone may be trying to get a warning to you. If so, who? And why do they have to do it in this way?”
Bonnie’s voice was even softer and more hesitant now. But if no one else was going to say it, she would. “Could it be Damon?”
“Damon’s dead,” Stefan said flatly.
“But when Elena was dead, she warned me about Klaus,” Bonnie argued.
Stefan massaged his temples. He looked tired. “Bonnie, when Elena died, Klaus trapped her spirit between dimensions. She hadn’t fully passed away. And even then, she could only visit you in your dreams—not anyone else, just you, because you can sense things other people can’t. She couldn’t make anything happen in the physical world.”
Elena’s voice trembled. “Bonnie, the Guardians told us that vampires don’t live on after death. In any sense of the word. Damon’s gone.” Stefan reached out and took her hand, his eyes troubled.
Bonnie felt a sharp stab of sympathy for them both. She was sorry she’d brought Damon up, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The thought that he might be watching over them, irascible and mocking but ultimately kind, had briefly lifted the weight from her heart. Now that weight came crashing back down. “Well,” she said dully, “then I don’t have any idea who might be warning us. Does anybody else?”
They all shook their heads, baffled. “Who even knows about us now that has this kind of power?” Matt asked.
“The Guardians?” said Bonnie doubtfully.
But Elena shook her head with a quick decisive motion, blond hair swinging. “It’s not them,” she said. “The last thing they’d do is send a message in blood. Visions would be more their style. And I’m pretty sure the Guardians washed their hands of us when they sent us back here.”
Mrs. Flowers interlocked her fingers in her lap. “So perhaps there is some as yet unknown person or being looking after you, warning you of danger ahead.”
Matt had been sitting ramrod straight in one of Mrs. Flowers’s daintier chairs, and it creaked alarmingly as he leaned forward. “Um,” he said. “I think the better question is, what’s causing that danger?”
Mrs. Flowers spread her small, wrinkled hands. “You’re perfectly right. Let’s consider the options. On the one hand, it could be a warning for something that was naturally going to happen. Celia’s—you don’t mind if I call you Celia, do you, dear?”
Celia, still looking shell-shocked, shook her head.
“Good. Celia’s scarf getting caught in the train doors could have been a natural accident. Forgive me for saying so, but those long, dramatic scarves can be very dangerous. The dancer Isadora Duncan was killed in just that way when her scarf caught in the wheel of a car many years ago. Perhaps whoever sent the message was simply raising a flag for Celia to be careful, or for the rest of you to take care of her.
Which, Bonnie observed, was a very sweet and ladylike way of putting Dr. Celia Connor in her place. She was to drink her tea and recuperate, and they would figure out how to solve the problem. Celia’s eyes flashed, but she sipped her tea obediently.
“Now,” Mrs. Flowers said, looking around at the others, “it seems to me that the first thing to do is to figure out what the intention is behind the appearance of the names. Once we do that, perhaps we will have a better idea of who might be behind their appearance.”
“Maybe to warn us?” Bonnie said hesitantly. “I mean, Celia’s name appeared, and then she almost died, and now Meredith . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked at Meredith apologetically. “I’m worried you might be in danger.”
Meredith squared her shoulders. “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” she said.
Mrs. Flowers nodded briskly. “Yes, it’s possible that the appearance of the names has a benevolent intention. Let’s explore that theory. Someone may be trying to get a warning to you. If so, who? And why do they have to do it in this way?”
Bonnie’s voice was even softer and more hesitant now. But if no one else was going to say it, she would. “Could it be Damon?”
“Damon’s dead,” Stefan said flatly.
“But when Elena was dead, she warned me about Klaus,” Bonnie argued.
Stefan massaged his temples. He looked tired. “Bonnie, when Elena died, Klaus trapped her spirit between dimensions. She hadn’t fully passed away. And even then, she could only visit you in your dreams—not anyone else, just you, because you can sense things other people can’t. She couldn’t make anything happen in the physical world.”
Elena’s voice trembled. “Bonnie, the Guardians told us that vampires don’t live on after death. In any sense of the word. Damon’s gone.” Stefan reached out and took her hand, his eyes troubled.
Bonnie felt a sharp stab of sympathy for them both. She was sorry she’d brought Damon up, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The thought that he might be watching over them, irascible and mocking but ultimately kind, had briefly lifted the weight from her heart. Now that weight came crashing back down. “Well,” she said dully, “then I don’t have any idea who might be warning us. Does anybody else?”
They all shook their heads, baffled. “Who even knows about us now that has this kind of power?” Matt asked.
“The Guardians?” said Bonnie doubtfully.
But Elena shook her head with a quick decisive motion, blond hair swinging. “It’s not them,” she said. “The last thing they’d do is send a message in blood. Visions would be more their style. And I’m pretty sure the Guardians washed their hands of us when they sent us back here.”
Mrs. Flowers interlocked her fingers in her lap. “So perhaps there is some as yet unknown person or being looking after you, warning you of danger ahead.”
Matt had been sitting ramrod straight in one of Mrs. Flowers’s daintier chairs, and it creaked alarmingly as he leaned forward. “Um,” he said. “I think the better question is, what’s causing that danger?”
Mrs. Flowers spread her small, wrinkled hands. “You’re perfectly right. Let’s consider the options. On the one hand, it could be a warning for something that was naturally going to happen. Celia’s—you don’t mind if I call you Celia, do you, dear?”
Celia, still looking shell-shocked, shook her head.
“Good. Celia’s scarf getting caught in the train doors could have been a natural accident. Forgive me for saying so, but those long, dramatic scarves can be very dangerous. The dancer Isadora Duncan was killed in just that way when her scarf caught in the wheel of a car many years ago. Perhaps whoever sent the message was simply raising a flag for Celia to be careful, or for the rest of you to take care of her.
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