Warnings: Slash, Nonrelated, and Implied Character Death
Disclaimer: Nothing that you recognize belongs to me.
Note: Please note this story's history will be different from The Vampire Diaries TV show.
Prologue
Florence, Italy 1840
Pounding footsteps shatter the silence.
Though I don't need to, I step back into the shadows, recline against a nearby tree, and wait. After all this time, the moment I've anticipated has finally arrived. Seconds later, Damon, the eldest son of Giuseppe Salvatore, races into view. Clumps of his hair lie plastered to his forehead with sweat. Nearby an owl hoots and crickets cease their chirping. Panting hard, Damon raises his lantern higher and floods the darkened forest with a large, yellow circle of light, his own eyes wide and frantic. As he searches the area, the scuffling of his shoes and his unanswered cries of Jeremiah, where are you? Jeremiah, answer me! echo into the night. I remain hidden and my lips curl into a sneer. You're too late, Damon, I think to myself. Jeremiah's already dead.
Damon, his steps cautious, ventures farther into the woods. At the sight of the dangling body, his expression twists into one of pain. With his head bent at an unnatural angle, hands bound behind his back, and a rope coiled around his neck, my brother, Jeremiah's body swings from side to side. Cursing, Damon rushes forward, cutting the cords and lowering his body to the ground before he himself collapses to his knees. Angrily, he pries off the noose and fingers the raw, red imprints on Jeremiah's corpse. A loud, anguished scream fills the area. Disturbed by the noise, crows, roosting in the above trees, take wing into the sky. Damon ignores them, cradling his dead lover against his chest and rocking back and forth, whispered denials spilling from his lips.
He should've chosen me.
The blinding rage simmering in my chest is replaced with a swell of satisfaction. If Damon had noticed and returned my affections then I wouldn't have resorted to my previous actions. Though the son of a wealthy wine merchant and aware of his social status, Damon, once he met and fell for my brother, a servant, like myself, at the Salvatore manor, decided to forfeit his duties. When he sent that letter and asked Jeremiah to meet him tonight so they could escape Italy together, he forced my hand.
It was Damon's fault.
Yet, with my brother out of the way now, I can offer Damon the greatest gift imaginable: immortality. If he accepts, he can experience unimaginable speed, strength, and agility as well as heightened senses, accelerated healing, and durability but most of all immortality. No longer bound by the rules and limitations of our society, together Damon and I could do and go wherever we wanted.
Nothing but our own expectations can hold us back.
Casting a quick glance over my shoulder, I take a deep breath before assuming the role of a distraught brother. If I want to win Damon's affections, then I need to make this believable. After backing up several paces, careful of my footing as I don't wish to alert Damon of my presence yet, I rush forward, my usual light, quiet steps now loud and harsh. I head towards Damon's lantern and then skitter to a stop, gasping and my expression morphing into one of stricken horror at the sight of Damon hugging Jeremiah's lifeless body close.
Puffy, red eyes stare at me as he whispers my name. "He's dead," Damon says his voice thick and hoarse.
I drop to my knees and run my fingers over my brother's cheek, feeling the stiffness of Jeremiah's cheek and realizing the process of rigor mortis has begun.
"Damon, I…" I swallow as I lift and lock gazes with him. "I know who killed Jeremiah."
His expression hardens and his lips peel back, a snarl erupting from his throat. "Tell me," he says his tone low with restrained rage. His knuckles turn a stark white as he clutches Jeremiah tighter.
"Your father…he…he found out about your relationship with Jeremiah and how you wanted to leave tonight. He forged your signature and sent him another note asking him to meet here instead of your previous location." Damon's eyes narrow and his jaw clenches, his teeth grinding together, his breathing heavy. After a moment's hesitation, I lift my hand and lay it on his shoulder, massaging the skin. He stares at me with an unreadable expression. Hopefully someday soon, he'll look at me the same way he saw Jeremiah. "You want to avenge my brother and make your father pay. You want to make sure he dies a slow, painful death and denial him the mercy that he refused Jeremiah, right?" He nods with an expression eager. "There is a way and I'm offering it to you."
"I'll do whatever it takes. He took Jeremiah from me. I'm taking his life."
At those words, I scoot even closer. "This will hurt."
Without waiting for a response, I lung forward and sink my fangs into his neck.
Author's Note: Stay tuned because chapter one will be posted within the next few moments.