for you. Everything for you,” Elena said.
At that moment there was a soft sound behind her and she whirled
to see two eyes shining in the dimness of the cell opposite Stefan’s.
33
To her surprise, Elena felt no anger, only a determination to protect
Stefan if she could.
And then she saw that in the cell she’d assumed was empty, there
was a kitsune.
The kitsune looked nothing like Shinichi or Misao. He had long,
long hair as white as snow—but his face was young. He was wearing all
white, too, tunic and breeches out of some flowing, silky material and
his tail practically filled the small cell, it was so fluffy. He also had fox
ears which twitched this way and that. His eyes were the gold of
fireworks.
He was gorgeous.
The kitsune coughed again. Then he produced—from his long hair,
Elena thought, a very, very small and thin-skinned leather bag.
Like, Elena thought, the perfect bag for one perfect jewel.
Now the kitsune took a pretend bottle of Black Magic (it was
heavy and a pretend drink was delicious), and filled the little bag with it.
Then he took a pretend syringe (he held it as Dr. Meggar had and tapped
it to get the bubbles out) and filled it from the little bag. Finally, he stuck
the pretend syringe through his own bars and depressed his thumb,