Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 19

By the sentence we r apieceed the Sutherlands, our horses lips were coered in foam and its eye were pealing masking until they were ringed with white. non much of a racehorse, he verbalise carelessly, leaping d take in and giving it a pat on its neck. Wouldnt confusion me if it dropped dead from the exertion.I stepped erupt of the carriage, a locaterid smell assaulting my twist as if the Thayers had taken up residence next to a whipping yard. I speak let on he may already be dead, I verbalise gingerly. I took a deep breath and steadied myself. I had to be ready for whatever came next, be it Damon taking action against the Sutherlands or having to spend the night with my new bride. If that happened, it would be hard to keep my own promise of no more compelling humans.Steeling myself, I headed for the admission.Not so fast, br different, Damon state, putting a paw on my chest. Then he slipped it inside my waistcoat as lightly as a pickpocket, and pulled out the check Winf ield had written me. Ill be needing this, he explained happily.Oh yes. M singley without the tracks, I utter bitterly. Much less obvious than robbing a bank vault. So promise me, what about the cab driver? A dead man in the middle of the road what about those tracks?Him? No one leave alone comment him, Damon said, obviously amazementd by my interest. Look around, Stefan. People die in the streets here alone the time. Hes no one.Damon had become the type of vampire who had no problem with killing even when it didnt directly benefit him, and he affiliated murder at the drop of a hat. When I killed in my archetypical days, it was always for thirst, or self-protection. Not for sport. And never simply for the kill.Besides, it really, really roily you, he added with a grin. And isnt that what its all about?He gave a short(p) bow and indicated I should enter our new home basic. Looking up at its beautiful gray walls and growling gargoyles, I wished no one had ever invited me in , that I had been forced to remain foreign forever, a short(p) creature relegated to the park.And then approximatelybody screamed.Damon and I both rushed in, very much tearing the door off its hinges in our effort to get through.Margaret was rest in the living room, white as a sheet, her afford everywhere her mouth. And it was very obvious why.The entire place was spattered in what my spin mind could only assume was stern paint, until its smell hit my lift with the force of a truck blood. Human blood. Gallons and gallons of it belatedly dripping round the walls and congealing in pools on the floor. It threw me off guard, my vampire senses reeling from the sheer quantity.Damon held one hand over his face, as if trying to stifle the sensations, and pointed with his otherwise hand.At first all I saw was a pair of stockinged legs crooked on the rug, as if someone had too much to drink and cut down down. Then I realized they werent attached to a body.No I whispered, sinking to my knees in horror.The bodies of Lydia, Bridget, Winfield, and Mrs. Sutherland were scattered around the room in pieces.The family I had married into to protect, the innocent humans I was trying to keep impregnable from Damons psychopathic tendencies, were all dead. But they hadnt solely been murdered they had been torn away and brutalized.What did you do? I growled at Damon, fury turning my eyes red and beginning the change. What did you do?I was going to rip his neck out. It was as simple as that. He was a monster, and I should discombobulate killed him recollective ago, long before he had a chance to destroy other peoples lives.But Damon looked just as shocked as I felt. His ice-blue eyes were wide with unfeigned surprise.It wasnt me, he said. Margaret shot him a look that could earn killed. The way he spoke it was as if he could have been him, just as easily just not this time.I commit you, Margaret said softly, shaking her head in abject grief.I was surprised. why, after all the questions, all the glares, all the arguments, why did she believe him now? Why, when she again really pretended he was just after the money and had fled the moment the documents were dry, did she believe he wasnt the murderer? But oddly I believed him, if for no other modestness than the callousness of his tone.As if she could read my thoughts, Margaret turned her eyes to me. I atomic number 50 always tell when someone is lying, she said simply. Its a gift, I suppose.I thought about what Bram had said how Margaret had hurt him just by looking at him. I touched my ring, thinking of the witch, Emily, whod cast a spell over it to protect me from the sun. Was it possible that Margaret had powers, too?I subject my mouth to ask her, but tears were leaking from her eyes. Now was not the time for an interrogation. Taking a deep breath I rose and went over to what was left of the bodies, trying to discover a clue or reason for the massacre.The other half of Mrs. Suther lands body was sprawled on its belly next to the couch. matchless arm was stretched out, as if she were trying to get up, trying to crawl to her youngest daughter.Bridgets throat had been torn out and all of her limbs had been snapped in half. Her face was untouched, however. In stopping point she looked worry the little girl she really was, the soft rose of her cheeks slowlyly fading to an icy white, her lips opened slightly as if she were asleep. Her eyes, wide and blue jet and clear as a china dolls, were still open in shock. I gently put my hand over her face and pulled her lids down.Lydia was glacial with a hand over her face, like an ancient Roman grave carving, dignified even in death. I turned away from her ruined torso, the white bones of her rear end sticking through her cracked chest.Winfield looked like a big, slain animal, a buffalo brought down in its prime. in that respect were surprisingly neat gashes down his side, like something had been trying to butcher him.Finally, I went over to Margaret and put my accouterments around her, turning her head so she wasnt staring at the scene of carnage anymore. She clung to me, but stiffened in surprise when my hand brushed the skin on the back of her neck.After a moment she pulled away. Shock seemed to slowly settle down over her features. She sank into a chair and regarded the room again, this time with a blank face.They were like this when I arrived, she began slowly. I stayed at the Richards longer than everyone else, looking for the two of you, trying to find oneself someone who had seen you leave. Bram and Hilda and the usual gang had left earlier, planning some lightheaded antics for your wedding night. A shivaree or something. I just assumed you two took off for Europe with your dowry.Europe, Damon said thoughtfully. I glared at him.The door was open, she continued, and the stenchWe fell into silence. I didnt know what to say or do. In ordinary, human circumstances, my first move would have been to get Margaret away from the post and call for help.Did you call for the police? I asked suddenly.Margaret met my gaze. Yes. Theyll be here soon. And theyll think it was you, you know.It wasnt, Damon repeated.She nodded, not bothering to look at him. Her skin was milky pale, as if some of the life had gone out of her when her family had died. I know, but you are not innocent, either.No, no, we are not, Damon said in a distant voice, looking at Lydias cold body. For a moment, his features softened and he looked almost like a human in mourning. Then, he shook his head, as if snapping himself out of a reverie. Margaret, Im sorry for your loss, he said perfunctorily. But Stefan and I must run.Why should I leave with you? I challenged, the blood making my head spin, my thoughts revolve dizzily in my brain.Fine, stay here, get arrested.I turned to Margaret. atomic number 18 you going to be all right?She gave me a look as if I was mad. My entire family is dead.Her voice quave red on the edge of sanity. I put my hand out and touched her shoulder, wishing I could say or do something. No one deserved this. But words wouldnt claim her family back.As Damon and I turned to go, the telltale clip clop of a police wagon pulling up in front of the foretoken sounded, along with the firm orders of a chief directing his men.Out the back, I said. Damon nodded and we ran through the dining room and kitchen to the door that opened on the courtyard. My hand was just about to touch the doorknob when Damon grabbed me, finger to his mouth. He press himself up against the wall, indicating I should do the same. My predators senses picked up what Damon had already figured out There was a man, no, a pair of men, waiting silently outside with shooters drawn, exactly disposed(p) for us to escape that way.Ill just quickly chuck out of them, Damon said.No Upstairs, I whispered. Window.Fine. Damon sighed, and the two of us started to creep quietly up the servants staircase.An ex plosive bang from the front hall made us immobilize in our tracks.You, upstairs, you and you, to the parlor A stern voice was barking orders. From the sounds of footsteps, an entire pass along of policemen was beginning to sweep through the house.Damon and I gave up any hear at being quiet, storming up the stairs as fast as we could. There was a casement window at the top, which he threw open triumphantly, prepared to jump to freedom.Below, in the side yard, a dozen armed officeholder stood, aiming rifles at the building. And with his drama, Damon had neatly alerted them all to our presence.Bullets began to fly.Though they would not kill us, they would slow us down. I threw myself to the floor, feeling the sting of lead graze my neck. burn chute, I suggested. Without bothering to wait for an answer I streaked back downstairs with vampiric speed, my brother close back tooth. Police now swarmed all over the rooms on the main floor, but even those who caught a glimpse of us runni ng to the cellar didnt quite know what they saw blurry shadows, a trick of the eye.The darkness of the basement proved no problem for us, and in a split second we were in the coal room, behind the furnace. I forced open the tiny slanted door that led to the driving force and leaped out, turning to give my brother a hand.And thats when I felt the gun at my neck.I turned around slowly and raised my hands. A small crowd of New Yorks finest stood there, along with most of the neighborhood, who had come to ensure the manhunt.Damon and I could, with little difficulty, have taken them all. And it looked like my brother was scratch for a fight.I shook my head, whispering, Well draw far more care resisting arrest right now. The truth was, it would be far easier to escape later, when we didnt have a crowd gawking at us. Damon knew it as well as I did.Damon sighed a dramatic sigh and pulled himself out of the chute, leaping neatly to the ground.An ships officer strode forward bravely but only once his men had our arms behind our backs and jostled us a bit, letting us know who was in charge.You two are under arrest for grand larceny, murder, and anything else I can find that will have you hanging from a tree in Washington Square for the death of the Sutherlands, the officer said through even, neat teeth.They dragged us out, pushing more than was necessary. With shoves and a final kick each we were thrown into the back of a paddy wagon, and then the door was slammed behind us.They were good people, the chief hissed in Damons face, through the bars.Damon shook his head back and forth. Ive had better, he whispered to me.Through the bars of the wagon I stared back at the house Id called home for the past week. Margaret stood framed in the doorway, her black hair stark against the glowing lights of the house. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she said something so softly that even my sensitive ears barely heard it.Whoever did this will pay.