"Just- What the hell is that?" asked Damon, zeroing in on the huge duffel bag she dragged since the front porch.
She feigned innocence, her eyes wide and childlike, and Damon blinked twice in disbelief.
"You understand we're not moving away, so why does it look like you stuffed your entire wardrobe in that bag?"
At that, she arched a cocky eyebrow. "As if even half of my clothes would fit in here. And you didn't say how many days."
He took the luggage from her and threw it into the trunk of the car. "Get in."
She hadn't even buckled her belt when he floored the engine and sprinted down the street, but she didn't mind the speed. She put on her sunglasses and allowed herself to enjoy the ride.
Damon chose a repertoire of classic rock songs, drumming on the steering wheel, while Caroline looked through the window, watching the green landscapes pass in a blur.
She closed her eyes for a moment, the wind blowing through her hair, and waited for the song to fade out before speaking. Damon didn't look any more interested in talking now than he usually did. Luckily, provided she was not under compulsion, she didn't particularly care for his preferences.
"What did you tell my mom?" she asked. "When I mentioned checking out some colleges she practically pushed me out the door." Her mother had never been the most attentive of parents, but that had been weird. The woman had almost looked relieved.
A smug grin graced Damon's handsome features. "Maybe she's just glad you finally found some direction."
She turned her nose up in the air. "I'll have you know I literally won every popularity contest in school since junior high, I'm in the top 3 in my class and the online quiz I took last week said I would thrive in both Gryffindor and Slytherin."
He rolled his eyes, but his lips were still stretched in a crooked smile.
"She came to see me a couple of weeks ago. Thought something was wrong with you, because of all the moping," he paused to glare at her for effect. "Asked me to keep an eye on you."
It was Caroline's turn to stare at him incredulously, the sunglasses sliding down her nose a little. Of all people, her mother trusted her with the biggest jerk in town. A least that explained his late night visits.
"What exactly did you tell her?"
"That you're going through a phase, teenage angst and all that. Maybe going a little emo."
"Emo!" she repeated, insulted.
"With violent crime at an all-time high in Mystic Falls," he continued, unperturbed, "she is thrilled that you're out of the seventh circle of hell and visiting prospective colleges with one of your girly, nondescript friends."
Damon was bad news, but no one could deny he had a smooth tongue. I can be sweet sometimes too, Caroline, he had once said. He had managed to fool the whole city and even established some sort of camaraderie with her mother. She'd be worried if she didn't think he genuinely respected Sheriff Forbes.
"Not sure if you thought this through," she countered, "because a number of people could have seen me get in the car with you."
He shrugged. "So what? I gave you a ride to Sandy's or Susan's or what's-her-face's who's supposed to go with you, before leaving town myself to handle some personal affairs."
She raised an eyebrow, wondering if he had compelled one of her classmates to drop out of sight for a couple of days until they were back. He couldn't have kidnapped the girl and thrown her in the trunk of the car, could he? Hmm, no, then there wouldn't be room for my bag.
"How generous of you," she said aloud. "Isn't that a funny coincidence, you being out of town as well?"
"It's no coincidence," he clarified with no small amount of condescension. "Without me around to watch over you small towners, your mom agreed this college tour is well timed."
Caroline pursed her lips.
"I told Bonnie and Elena I had a family thing coming up. But I didn't say anything to Stefan and I'm not really talking to Matt so much."
"Good, because I don't need any of them breathing down my neck," he said dryly. She was a vampire now - undead, top of the food chain, immortal. He really didn't get why she still cared so much for what people thought.
She shook her head. "I still can't believe my mom just takes your word at face value."
Her transition jeopardized her already rocky relationship with her mother, yet the sheriff trusted a murderous vampire implicitly. Then again, even before they ever met Damon her mother had always been too busy with work and whatnot to take a real interest in anything she did.
The corner of his lips lifted in a crooked smile. "I happen to be an expert in vampirism, and she was afraid there's a vampire sucking the life out of you. Ironic, huh?"
"I'll say," she muttered, picking invisible lint from her shirt. She knew he meant it as some kind of joke, since she was now one of them, a revenant that feasted on the blood of the living; but they both knew she had also been a vampire's prey - his prey.
His mouth tightened into a thin line when she recoiled in the seat, a shadow of hurt in her eyes. She had a way of making him uncomfortable by stirring long forgotten emotions like regret and empathy. Maybe that explained why she hadn't met death by stake at his hands (he'd be forever grateful that Stefan's hero complex and timely intervention helped him save face, because if he'd really wanted her dead she'd be six feet under by now).
Truth be told, unlike with Vicky and countless others he had made and destroyed, turning Caroline hadn't been his choice, but the sire bond was unshakable. He'd be happy to leave it to Stefan to show her the ropes, but, unfortunately, his brother could barely fend for himself and, between attending high school and gushing over a human, Stefan was incapable of teaching Caroline anything useful. So, the burden fell on him, though some might argue he owed her that much.
They stopped at a roadside bar because, after an hour confined in the car with her, he could use a drink. So, he went straight to the counter while she took a chance with the bathroom. A few minutes later, she found him perched on a stool, nursing a bourbon. Deciding to put more distance between them than they could afford in the car, she primly sat on a booth in a dim lit corner and waited for him to finish.
"Is that your girl?" asked the bartender, looking from Damon to the blonde. "She'd better not be underage."
Damon's gaze swung to her, sitting by herself. He remembered she used to be too clingy for her own good, but that seemed to have changed for the better.
"No, and she's not," he answered curtly.
"Then that's a hot piece of ass", growled the older man, drying his large hands with a greasy towel. "So you know her? If I were you, I'd be on my way there to chat her up."
"Be my guest," Damon retorted, gritting his teeth and looking at her over his shoulder a second time. "It's like talking to a brick wall you wanna take down with a sledgehammer."
As if to contradict his words, she had a beatific smile on her face, framed by a halo of pale blonde hair. He noticed it was longer than when he'd met her. He followed the slight movement of its soft waves until she tucked a strand behind her ear. A shadow covered her face, bringing Damon's attention to a guy who'd rounded her table, grinning down at her.
The vampire watched as the human leaned closer to whisper in the blonde's ear, eliciting a peal of insidious laughter. The guy was obviously a douche, but better looking than the truck drivers in there, presumably owning the shining SUV they'd seen parked outside. Just another opportunist looking for an easy lay, Damon hypocritically surmised.
He didn't catch what was sure to be a cheap pick up line, but her flirty reply rifted the thick atmosphere of the place, traveling to his now attentive ears.
"Well, if you come closer I will tell you a secret..."
The guy didn't even flinch when she bit his neck ever so gently, her darkened eyes half closed. Damon quirked an eyebrow, surprised by her effortless move.
Speaking of opportunists, he mentally scowled. For a moment there, he got caught up in the sight, a shade of pink covering Caroline's normally pale cheeks and her long lashes fluttering swiftly. He shook his head to break out of the trance, threw back his drink and stood up, making his way toward them. Seeing the guy had sunk in a kind of torpor, he tapped on the table impatiently.
"Are you done or do you want to wrap that to go?"
Back in the car, Caroline felt a little dazed, shocked at her own boldness. She'd been dying to have a lick of fresh and warm human blood again, but she was still afraid of losing control. Not being able to fight the temptation to bite into the guy's neck was a testament to her inexperience and the mere risk of killing him in the process was positively horrifying. A permanent, unforgivable mistake she'd already made once.
Damon hadn't lectured her like Stefan would, mostly because there was no moral issue here for him. That was not to say he was pleased. He looked like he might have snapped the guy's neck himself to speed things up, but he was so not happy with her for cutting it close.
"... not as fucking reckless as feeding in plain view." She tuned him in at the of his rant.
"I just needed a fix," she feebly protested.
She felt like an alcoholic trying to learn how to drink socially as if her life depended on it. Because it kind of did. Her life and the lives of countless bunnies she would spare by drinking just the right, harmless amount of the much more satisfying liquid humans had running in their veins. She was fighting the urge to lick her lips to catch any last residue of blood, and realized Damon had said something and was waiting for a response. He turned to look at her and she could swear his gaze dropped to her mouth for a second.
They were both addicts, even if he had so much more self-restraint.
"New vampires walk a fine line when they feed on human blood," he said, eyes back on the road. "If you'd gone on any longer, you'd end up drawing attention. Even if your compulsion held, people were bound to hear the thud when his body hit the floor."
"I wouldn't-"
His icy blue eyes sizzled. "Remember what it feels like when you're starving? If you work up an appetite, you'll kill. When a bad mood hits you, you kill. Just about anything could trigger it."
"Dangerous mood swings, you say?" She looked pointedly at him.
"Whatever, Blondie. Don't go thinking that I care. As long as you don't leave any witnesses, you're free to toy with your food and kill them when you're done."
"I'd say that's more your speed," she commented dryly.
He narrowed his eyes but didn't respond. Maybe he shouldn't act so surprised that luring and feeding on human preys apparently came as naturally to her as it did to him. Their good looks enhanced by death and all that, humans were lured to them like moths to a flame.
"Look, I wasn't being as careless as you think," she attempted to explain. "Maybe I should have found a more private spot, but I would have stopped. I started drinking small doses here and there, to build tolerance."
Damon narrowed his eyes. "Where did you-?"
"Besides," she went on before he realized she had gone through his blood stash. "Stefan's been coaching me and I think I picked up some things-"
"Ah, of course, hunting night with Stefan," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Little bunny foo foo, hopping through the forest! Scooping up the field mice - yummy. Very educational."
She meant to glare at him, but couldn't hold the easy laughter that filled the air between them. It was an honest, spontaneous laugh, Caroline style, unlike the one she had offered her victim in the bar. He grinned as well. Gun to his head, he was a little impressed by her earlier performance.
"Human blood is way better, I'll give you that," she commented, trying to appease him.
"It doesn't even compare."
"And we don't actually have to kill them," she added, as if to comfort herself. "We can compel them to forget."
He clicked his tongue. "As I said, sometimes you don't have a choice. Sometimes you only feel peace when you kill."
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, because she knew exactly what he meant. That's how she felt the first time during her transition. She just couldn't get enough and her victim's vital signs were the furthest thing from her mind.
Caroline didn't like being out of control, and she also didn't like hurting people unnecessarily. That night still haunted her, but she wanted to believe that the remorse set her apart from the cold-blooded vampires that butchered their victims.
"Don't you feel bad when you come down from the bloodlust?" she asked him, with genuine curiosity.
"I don't like having to dispose of the body afterward, no."
She didn't buy that. She knew for a fact he didn't despise all humans, or he wouldn't have gone out of his way to protect her mother, Alaric or Elena.
"So these vampires you're meeting, are they your friends?" She changed the subject.
"No," he replied, forthcoming as always.
"Well, then care to share why we're going all the way to North Carolina to fraternize with vampires?" She didn't feel inclined to dive into a shark tank again.
Damon didn't say anything for a moment, but as she opened her mouth again he cut her off.
"It may seem like Mystic Falls is the national capital of paranormal activity, but there's a whole world out there," he said. "Vampires are social beings and they tend to band together. In bigger cities, you'll find this kind of underworld society. There's safety in numbers, but they're a little hostile towards outsiders. So, we're off to get our citizenship."
She frowned and he glanced at her, surprised she wasn't bombarding him with questions. Maybe she didn't want to try her luck and end up having to placate a mood swing.
"You're not going to stay in Mystic Falls after you graduate, are you?" he couldn't help teasing her.
"No," she promptly denied. She might be dead, but she still had plans for the future.
He nodded approvingly. "Then it's time to mingle."
She fell silent as his words sank in and Damon seized the chance to enjoy some downtime without her incessant nagging. He turned the volume up and Born to be Wild blasted through the car.
They reached Charlotte before evening, under a rainfall. As they crossed the antiquated hotel's foyer, both completely soaked, Caroline wasn't looking forward to compelling the blatantly gay receptionist to overlook the fact that she was a minor. Luckily, Damon was decided to be pragmatic, rather than obnoxious, as was usually the case with him; he stepped in and, seeing as the man was practically drooling over Damon, he barely needed to use compulsion to have him believe they were siblings traveling together.
After Damon was done dealing with the front desk, he handed her a key to number 302 and Caroline blew out annoyed sighs all the way up to the third floor.
"Be ready at 10 sharp tonight," he said. "Black tie."
"Shouldn't you have told me that before we left home?"
"Don't act like you don't have anything to wear," he retorted. "What are you carrying in that damn bag, bricks?"
Off the elevator, he stopped before a large door with a brass number sign indicating it was the suite 301.
"See you later, sis," he called over his shoulder with a smirk. He pushed open the door and disappeared inside the room, leaving her to tip the expectant bellhop.
Rolling her eyes, she walked into her own room, dropping the duffel in a corner and pulling the curtains open. The rain had subsided, but the sky remained bruised and heavy.
She turned back to help herself to a Coke she found in the minibar, sitting on the edge of an armchair and picking up her phone to check her e-mails. Nothing in her inbox but some Facebook notifications and a penis enlargement ad. She felt a rush of excitement that probably had to do with the taste of human blood lingering on her lips. Even though Damon had cut her earlier meal short, she felt sated - and he should really appreciate her initiative, lest she showed up later with bloodshot eyes and veins popping out.
That same evening, she was standing in front of the mirror when Damon snuck into the bedroom and stood behind her, a few feet away, and she watched his reflexion while trying on the earrings. The man was devastatingly handsome, his hair carefully styled to look the right amount of messy, his hands in the pockets of his tux.
"I didn't invite you in," she observed.
"Is that why you didn't lock it? It's a hotel room and I'm paying for it," he drawled. "Sort of."
She stared at his reflexion a little longer. "Where were you?"
"Went for a stroll, it was starting to get a little dull around here."
She turned around to face him, but he just stared back at her with an exasperating smirk.
"Did you- Did you kill someone?"
He flashed a cruel grin. "You look... perplexed."
Making his way to her, Damon towered over her slender, smaller frame, and she leaned back, away from him. He had had more than his regular amount of bourbon and was in a playful mood. At least he would describe it that way.
"Damon," she said his name with a deep frown.
"Caroline," he mocked her serious intonation, that damned crooked smile still in place. He knew he was baiting her, expecting her to either freak-out or take the moral high ground, just so maybe he could remind her she was one of them now. She searched his face and was met with his unrepentant gaze.
He wondered if she could tell he was a little on edge that night. He could see the wheels turning in her little blonde head as she took in his disposition and the smell of alcohol. He broke their staring match by rolling his eyes. "Bar fight," he said curtly, anticipating the question.
"Ah," she breathed out. "I thought you had been eating out. What? No dead female bodies recently buried in a shallow grave nearby?"
Watching her closely, he could feel some of her tension slip away. No question what her first assumption had been. Would she ever get that fucking, feeding and killing sort of came together when you're a vampire? But he hadn't killed her, had he? He hadn't been very considerate of her feelings, but it's not like she had been in love with him - she only liked the attention he gave her. And the sex, of course.
Maybe she should count her blessings and drop the sanctimonious attitude, and he had half a mind to tell her that, but - honestly, he had never seriously considered killing her while they'd been together. Her blood had been world class, fresh like her, and he had never wanted that source to run dry.
She was peering into the mirror one last time, smoothing the dress with her hands, and he took the opportunity to give her a once over. She was wearing a deep blue cocktail dress with shoulder straps and an A-line skirt that ended just above her knees. The wrapped top made her breasts look fuller and the color emphasized the tenderness of her skin. He could sense her hesitation as he took a step forward and invaded her space. She looked ravishing, her milky white neck looking especially inviting.
He wondered if her blood tasted any different now, and whether there was any way he could get away with trying it again.
Caroline lifted her head to meet the sharp blue eyes regarding her, well aware of his proximity and the floating smell of blood, whiskey and aftershave.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked bluntly.
She purposefully strode past him, but he startled her when he sped to the door and jerked it open, waiting for her to pass.
"I think you'll like it here, Blondie, it's a bloodfest."
He pulled the car into the circle driveway of a white frame residence with imposing columns and killed the engine. As soon as they got off the vehicle, someone jumped in front of Caroline and she gasped in surprise.
"Are you enlightened, sister?" asked a black man wearing a tux and a hat. He handed her a card with just a red skull against a white background and an address below. She didn't have time to check it, as Damon suddenly appeared by her side, pulling her by the elbow.
"Come on," he grumbled and glared at the man, who shrugged and disappeared in a small crowd making its way to the house.
The building had a colonial revival style and the blonde looked around in wonder. At the entryway, she saw two women talking. They shot her a suspicious glare and the taller one took the other's hand, whisking her away, to a side chamber.
She shifted her gaze to a group chatting and sipping alcohol from black crystal goblets. Some of them were too pale to be mistaken for humans and no food was being served. Damon made his way to a large armchair and dropped himself heavily onto it. A brunette girl with alabaster skin standing behind the chair turned to him with a sly smile and an extra glass. Everything looked unreal, from the aerial place to the spectral people, but Damon didn't seem to mind.
The smell of blood was overpowering, all around, but she soon realized that the main source was somewhere to her right. She moved slowly towards a room, the door ajar. She pushed it carefully and peered inside, only to be met with a disturbing view. A few partygoers were busy filling their glasses with blood dripping from the neck of a pair of bodies hanging from the ceiling like human kegs.
She staggered, trying to distance herself from the self-service facility, and stumbled on somebody in her haste. She swayed and the person grasped her shoulders to steady her.
"Easy there, Blondie," said a voice that didn't belong to Damon.
References:
Vampire: the Masquerade Bloodlines (the sledgehammer)
Vampire: the Masquerade Redemption (upside down prey)
