The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unseen (21 page)

Jack fell into step beside him.

“I killed Trinity,” Stefan said, defeated. Everything had happened so fast; he’d been so focused on killing Solomon, on ending all this.

“There’s no way you could have known,” Jack said roughly. “And Trinity was a good hunter; she knew the risks.” He twisted a ring on his finger with an angry, abrupt gesture. “The important thing is that we know what form Solomon’s in now. We should act quickly before he has time to swap into a body we
don’t
know.” He glanced back at Elena cautiously, then slowed to let her catch up. “Can you do that thing Andrés did? Channeling life force?”

Elena stopped dead and stared at him, aghast. “You mean
kill
her?” she asked angrily. “No. I won’t. There’s no proof that Trinity isn’t still in there. She could be possessed, helpless while her spirit is controlled by Solomon.” The others came up beside them, their faces worried.

A muscle at the side of Jack’s mouth twitched, and Stefan broke in. “What do you suggest we do, Elena?” he asked. “Alaric believes this is a case of body-swapping, and Solomon’s too powerful for us not to go after him with everything we have. If we hesitate, we put everyone in danger.”

Elena’s eyes narrowed. “By everyone, you mean me,” she said tartly. “But Trinity matters, too. We need to
capture
her, not kill her. We can’t kill her unless we’re completely sure she’s gone, that there’s no trace of her left in her body.”

His jaw clenching, Stefan glared back at her. For a moment, he felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them. “You’re not the only one threatened here,” he said, his voice tense. “Think of Andrés. We can’t risk everyone to save one person who is probably already dead.”

“Yes, we can,” Elena insisted. “We don’t sacrifice innocent people to keep ourselves safe. That’s not us, Stefan.”

They stared at each other, Elena flushed and breathing hard.

“If there’s a chance Trinity’s still in there …” Darlene said slowly.

“She was a good hunter,” Jack said again. “Trinity would give anything if it meant we killed Solomon.”

There was a slight shifting in the room, as the group began to realize that there were two distinct sides, and they would all have to pick one. Jack agreed with him, Stefan knew: The risks of trying to capture Solomon without killing him were too high.

He’d fought with Elena before, over personal things, over Damon, but never over what the right course of action was. Looking at her outraged face, Stefan knew that if he ignored her, if he succeeded in killing Trinity, Elena might never forgive him. He could side with Elena, or he could keep her safe.

Either way, he might lose her forever.

M
eredith’s eyes watered, blurring the harsh white lights, and she tried to turn her face away. But she was stuck fast.

This was worse than being held by Solomon’s Power. She could feel the multitude of tiny wires pressing against her skin, holding her in their trap. Heart pounding, she strained against them, trying desperately to move. But after a moment she gave up, letting her muscles go slack. It was only a dream, and soon she would wake up.

It just felt so
real
. The table—she was almost sure now that it was an operating table, and that thought started a cold dread in the pit of her stomach—was hard beneath her. Peering through the corners of her watering eyes, she could make out the blurry shape of something cylindrical and silver by her bedside. An oxygen canister, maybe? Was this a hospital?

The thought made her forget to be calm. She struggled harder, trying to wake herself up. Meredith had always hated hospitals.

As she pushed desperately against her restraints, a shrill beeping sped up, faster and faster. A heart rate monitor.

There was a shadow moving in the corner. Meredith stopped thrashing about and strained to see, the heart monitor slowing a little. There was no doubt about it this time. It was a person—shadowy, but getting closer.

With a sudden step, the figure moved to stand above her, anonymous in a surgical mask and white lab coat. Meredith blinked, trying to focus, but the person’s face was still blurry. Something sharp and metallic flashed in the stranger’s hand.

A scalpel, Meredith realized, heavy with dread, and tried to scrabble backward, to press herself into the hard table below her. She couldn’t move. Her breath was coming in anxious, harsh pants. “No,” she cried out, suddenly able to speak, hating the pleading, pathetic sound of her own voice.

The blade flashed silver along her stomach as Meredith watched, its motion followed by a thin, spreading line of red.

Something terrible was happening to her. Panic scratched at the inside of Meredith’s head, a frantic babble. Something terrible was happening
now
.

#TVD11Nightmares

Meredith’s eyes shot open. Dark room, soft bed, Alaric’s steady breathing beside her. She felt at her stomach, reassuringly whole and unbloodied. She’d
known
it was a dream. But her heart was pounding hard, and her mouth was dry. Dream or not, she’d brought the fear with her:
Something terrible is going to happen.

She got out of bed and padded into the kitchen, leaving the overhead light off. When she opened the refrigerator to pull out the water pitcher, she winced, blinking at the brightness. Her eyes were still sensitive from the harsh white lights.
No
, she reminded herself.
They’re not. That was just a dream.

Her throat was as dry and sore as if she’d really been screaming, though. Meredith gulped down the water and poured herself a second glass. It felt good going down, icily cold, but when she finished she was still parched.

There was something off about her, she thought. She felt jittery and overly sensitive, as if a touch might be too much to bear.

Swallowing against the ache in her throat, she squared her shoulders.
Be strong.
She was probably feeling weak because she’d been slacking off on her exercise schedule. Patrolling with Jack and his hunters was no substitute for a real workout.

A run clear would clear her head, Meredith decided.

A few minutes later, she left the house wearing a ratty old T-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Starting with a slow, deliberate jog, she gradually sped up, her feet slapping a steady rhythm against the sidewalk. The sky was beginning to lighten with the promise of dawn, but she had a stake strapped to her waist, hidden by her shirt, just in case.

By the time she reached the Dalcrest campus, she was almost at a sprint. The faster she went, the more centered Meredith felt, resettling comfortably in her own body again as her muscles strained.

The sun was just creeping over the horizon, and the campus was almost deserted. Meredith ran right past the only two people in sight, a couple making out, hot and heavy, pushed up against the side of the library.

A few strides farther on, she stopped, the scene she’d just passed replaying in her mind’s eye. The way the girl had her face pressed into the man’s throat, her arms holding him in place. The slump of the guy’s shoulders.

Meredith swore and turned back, running as fast as she could, her hands fumbling to pull the stake from under her shirt.

It wasn’t until the girl looked up, blood dripping down her chin, the ends of her hair sticky and matted, that Meredith realized it was Trinity.

“Hey there,” she said, baring her teeth at Meredith. “I was hoping I’d run into
all
you hunters.”

With a twist of horror, Meredith realized the guy Trinity held propped up was Roy, one of the hunter brothers. He flopped forward against her, his eyes closed and his head hanging limply. Meredith couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

Her hands closed tighter over her stake, her heart pounding. If she could get close enough … A stake wouldn’t kill an Old One, if that was even what Trinity was now, but it might slow her down.

“Are you in there, Trinity?” she asked, watching the girl carefully. If only she’d glance away for a moment. If Meredith could somehow distract her, maybe she could get close enough.

Trinity’s smile grew, but she said nothing, just stuck out the tip of her pink tongue to lick the blood off her lips. With an internal shudder, Meredith realized Trinity’s eyes were yellow now, like an animal’s. Like Gabriel Dalton’s when he had Solomon inside him.

Taking a step closer, the stake firm in her grip, Meredith asked, “Do you know who you are?” She cocked her head toward Roy, limp and still, his head lolling against Trinity’s collarbone. “Do you know who
he
is?”

Trinity laughed, a harsh, sudden noise completely unlike her usual soft chuckle. “All you hunters are tied so tightly to one another, aren’t you? I wonder if you know as much as you think you do.”

She glanced at Roy for a moment. “This one? He’s a fighter, but he couldn’t strike at someone he knew.” Meredith was only half listening. With Trinity’s attention distracted for that split second, she saw her chance.

Lunging forward, she stabbed the stake at Trinity’s heart.

And was frozen in place.

If Meredith harbored any doubts that Solomon had invaded Trinity’s body, they fell away now. It was like the Plantation Museum, like her nightmares. Her muscles, which just a minute ago had been strong, running, were completely immobile.

“I’d kill you now, but it’s more fun to play,” Trinity—
Solomon
—said. “I’ll see you around, hunter.” She stepped away from the library without even glancing back at Roy, and he fell heavily to the ground, landing on the concrete with a sinister thud.

Without looking back, without hurrying at all, Trinity sauntered off, her boots clicking on the pavement. Meredith was powerless to do anything except watch her go.

When Trinity had turned the corner and was completely out of sight, the hold she had on Meredith broke.

Immediately Meredith raced after her, her heart pounding as she rounded the corner of the library and ran between the dorms behind it. But Trinity was gone. The campus spread out in front of her in the early morning light, peaceful and silent and completely empty.

Meredith went back to Roy. He was still lying where Trinity had dropped him, his tall, broad body looking small and broken.

Meredith turned him over gently and checked his pulse. Roy flopped over unresistingly, a dead weight, his throat torn and bloody. How had Solomon’s invasion of her body turned Trinity into a vampire? Meredith didn’t understand it, but the evidence was right here before her. Trinity was a vampire—and like all the Old Ones, one who had nothing to fear from daylight.

Poor Roy
, Meredith thought. Had he been happy to find Trinity, before she turned on him? She placed her hands on his chest and began CPR, pushing in a steady rhythm, lowering her mouth to his to force oxygen into his lungs. Even though she was pretty sure it was pointless, she had to try.

When Stefan and Elena had argued earlier over Trinity’s fate, Meredith hadn’t known what to think. But now she knew Stefan was right.

Trinity hadn’t known who Roy was, hadn’t really remembered Meredith. They’d both just been hunters to her, targets Solomon had been aware of all along. The girl who had been their friend, who had hunted beside them, was gone.