But I had to leave them to deal with that so that I
could—could get to that safe place.”
“Werewolves and were-foxes,” Stefan said, shaking his head. “Of
course, the kitsune, the foxes, are much more powerful magically, but
werewolves tend to kill before they think.” He struck his knee with his
fist. “I wish I could be there!”
Elena burst out with mixed wonder and despair, “And instead here
I am—with you! I never knew I could do this. But I haven’t been able to
bring you anything this way, not even myself. My blood.” She made a
helpless gesture and saw the smugness in Stefan’s eyes.
He still had the Clarion Loess Black Magic wine she’d smuggled
to him! She knew it! It was the only liquid that would—in a pinch—help
keep a vampire alive when no blood was available.
Black Magic “wine”—nonalcoholic and never made for humans in
the first place, was the only drink that vampires really enjoyed aside
from blood. Damon had told Elena that it was magically made from
special grapes that were grown in the soil at the edges of glaciers, loess,
and that they were always kept in complete darkness. That was what
gave it its velvety dark taste, he’d said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Stefan said, undoubtedly for the benefit of
anyone who might be spying. “Exactly how did it happen?” he asked