ing out a thousand tiny wavelets in the slow-moving
water. At other times, it simply seemed alien and ominous, showing
clearly on the horizon like a monstrous omen, tingeing the buildings, no
matter how magnificent, the color of blood. When they turned away
from it, as the litter bearers moved down into the city where the huge
buildings were, Elena could see their own long and menacing black
shadow thrown ahead of them.
“Well? What do you think?” Damon seemed to be trying to placate
her.
“I still think it looks like Hell,” Elena said slowly. “I’d hate to live
here.”
“Ah, but whoever said that we should live here, my Princess of
Darkness? We’ll go back home, where the night is velvet black and the
moon shines down, making everything silver.” Slowly, Damon traced
one finger from her hand, up her arm to her shoulder. It sent an inner
shiver through her.
She tried holding the veil up as a barrier against him, but it was too
transparent. He still flashed that brilliant smile at her, dazzling through
the diamond-dotted white—well, shell pink, of course, because of the
light—that was on her side of the veil.
“Does this place have a moon?” she asked, trying to distract him.
She was afraid—afraid of him—afraid of herself.
“Oh, yes: three or four of them, I think. But they’re very small and