ground. He could only whisper now. “ Elena. She’s alive. She’s
alive!”
From what Matt could see, there were a group of people climbing
and helping others climb out of a perfectly rectangular hole, perhaps five
feet deep, in Mrs. Flowers’s angelica patch.
They could hear voices. “All right,” Elena was saying, as she bent
down. “Now grab my hands.”
But the way she was dressed! A scrap of scarlet that showed all
sorts of scratches and cuts on her legs. On top—well, the remains of the
gown covered about what a bikini would. And she was wearing the
largest, most sparkly costume jewelry that Matt had ever seen.
More voices, going on through Matt’s shock.
“Be careful, yes? I will lift him to you—”
“I can climb out my own.”—surely that was Stefan!
“You see?” Elena rejoiced. “He says he can climb out his own!”
“Oui, but perhaps one small lift—”
“This is hardly the time for machismo, little brother.” And that,
Matt thought, fingering the revolver, was Damon. Blessed bullets…
“No, I want—to do it myself—okay—got it. There.”
“There! You see! He’s better every second!” Elena caroled.
“Where’s the diamond? Damon?” Stefan sounded anxious.
“I have it safe. Relax.”
“I want to hold it. Please.”
“More than you want to hold me?” Elena asked. There was a blur