Sirens blared. One after another the police cruisers and fire department vehicles sped by in a rush. A honk sounded from behind Damon Salvatore's SUV. Enzo St John, one of the Special Paranormal Unit team members, glanced over his shoulder on the driver's seat.
"This moron is trying to cause an accident," Enzo yelled at the rear view mirror.
Damon shifted to glimpse over his shoulder. A black Sedan tailed close behind them. Too close.
Enzo gripped the wheel so hard his tanned knuckles turned white. "I'm already doing eighty."
"Enzo, let them by."
There was something big going on. He curled his hands into fists in his lap. He knew what it was. They all knew.
"Where do you think they are all going, Damon?" The concern in Bonnie Bennet's voice momentarily choked him. Her soft lilt reminded him of his mother's voice. At first appearance, you would think Bonnie was a weak woman, but make her angry, and you would have hell to pay.
Tension turned palpable with its own heartbeat in the fast-moving SUV.
"I can take a wild guess."
They made a sharp corner on a bend onto a dirt road. The SUV skidded on its wheels for a second. Everyone held on while they bounced in their seats.
"Jesus H. Christ, Enzo! Can you not to get us killed before we get there," Bonnie growled.
"Sorry, darling, but there is no time to be worried about your delightful ass bouncing on the seat when we have to find a missing kid."
"I told you to stop calling me darling!"
"Enzo…" Damon sighed.
Their constant bickering wasn't unusual, so Damon ignored it and focused on the scene ahead. Multiple police cars parked outside the house he had called the local PD on. The house he knew had the latest missing person they had been searching for.
"Oh, God!" Fear laced Bonnie's whisper.
They were thinking the same thing. That whoever kidnapped little Kyler Jones had killed her. That his request for the county to get to the house in question had been too late. His gaze roamed the area through the darkness of the early evening. Multitudes of tall willows surrounded the large house set in the middle of nowhere. Perfect. If he'd been looking for a place to do some of the things the person in that house was known for, this was the right spot. There wasn't a body around for miles. Nobody to help. Nobody to hear the screams.
Enzo hadn't fully stopped when Damon jumped out of the SUV, his feet hitting the ground with a thump. Immediate perspiration gathered on his upper lip. The humidity from August had brought intense heat. Though it was closing in on night time, the air sizzled with the high temperature from earlier.
He ran for the SWAT van. Instinct told him they would know more than the local sheriff's department. Radios beeped. Concern expanded in his chest. Everyone seemed to want an update on the situation. He recognized one of the FBI department heads—Wes Maxfield—standing off to the side of the SWAT van.
The blonde man stopped mid-sentence to give him one of his degrading piercing glares. "Salvatore. What are you doing here?"
Damon glanced from Maxfield to the other two lower ranked agents. Took both men all of a second to move away. That allowed him and Maxfield to talk.
"This is our case. We found Kyler Jones through intense searching of phone records and—"
"Save it," Maxfield cut him off. He turned away from Damon to study the area.
"How are you going to retrieve the child? Do we know if she is alive?" Damon tried to tamp down the surge of power dancing through his veins. It wasn't usually difficult to do. He had mastered his darkness. But Maxfield had a tendency of pushing his anger. The man's attitude lit a fire in his stomach.
Maxfield smirked. "We have a man who went in through the back."
Gathered men and women avidly stared at the house. Watching. Waiting. Damon knew there were no guarantees of getting the child out alive. They all knew that. It was what made his job that much harder.
Power swirled at his fingertips. He need only know what to do, and he could end the entire thing in a matter of seconds. "Do you need me to—"
"What I need, is for you to keep yourselves out of the way," Maxfield ordered. "I'm in charge here."
Anger licked at his skin, growing at the speed of a derailed train. He shot a glance at Maxfield. For a split second, Maxfield paled.
"I would watch how you talk to people, Maxfield," Damon said, no longer caring that his voice sounded hard. Steely.
An explosion rocked the ground. Damon jerked his gaze to the house. Flames consumed the structure. Screams and shouts filled the night. Men moved in all directions toward the house, gunfire blasting through the shouts. Damon's muscles tightened.
"Can we do anything?" Bonnie yelled over the sirens and shouts. She ran a hand over her mussed up ponytail. Her fingers shook. He saw the desperate need to help in her eyes. It went against her nature not to.
Damon shook his head. "We wait."
The thought of doing nothing didn't appeal to him either. In fact, it was hell to hold back and not run into the house and get the kid himself. His power shoved outward. Pushing to get out. To take control.
"Finally!" Maxfield sighed.
Damon's vision followed Maxfield's line of sight until he saw a woman running out through the flames with a bundle covered in a dripping blanket.
His breaths thundered in his ears. Everything narrowed until the only thing he saw was her. He couldn't believe his eyes. Was his mind playing a trick on him? After all these years? But no, it wasn't a trick. Soaking wet, she ran from the burning house toward them. Paramedics surrounded her and took the covered bundle from her arms. She gasped for air, coughing through the smoke she'd inhaled before she finally glanced up and met his gaze.
He didn't know how long he had been standing there, watching everything like a spectator versus an active participant. The beast inside him roared. After all the years they had been apart, after she had left him for no apparent reason, she was back. He watched her march towards him. Her dark gaze slid from him to Maxfield.
In the background, firemen fought the burning house. Sirens continued to blare. Loud. Driving the point that chaos had ensued around them. But Damon couldn't find it in him to care. His sole focus was on the woman he had loved. Hard. Very hard. The woman who had left him.
Elena Gilbert.
"Elena." Maxfield's clipped tone grated on his nerves. "What took you so long?"
Her brows dipped low, eyes flashing. "Get over it. I got the child out alive. That was my main concern. I did what was needed. If it took all night…" She shrugged. "It would have taken all night."
The black T-shirt soaked and plastered to her skin, showed off the curves Damon had always loved. Curves he had kissed, licked, and bit in the heat of passion.
Damon's hands itched to grab her. Power surged inside him. Dark. Deadly. It swarmed his veins and expanded through his limbs in a wave of heat. A haze of red clouded his vision.
Elena met his gaze. Her perfectly arched brows rose. "Damon."
He took a deep breath. Inhaled the soft scent of Jasmine she loved to wear. Fear seeped from her pores, mingling with the sweet Jasmine scent. But this wasn't the time or place to discuss their past.
"Elena."
Pain flashed through her eyes for a millisecond before she went back to the detached professional. But he had seen it. Knew that she had heard the anger in the way he had softly growled her name. She folded her arms over her chest. Defensive. He had gotten to know each of her quirks. This was her I'm-not-at-fault move.
"We don't need you here, Salvatore." Maxfield's voice broke through the tension between him and Elena.
He eyed the older man. Saw the curious way he glanced back and forth between them.
"As you can see, we have it under control. You and your—" Maxfield's gaze slid over Damon's shoulder to where Bonnie and Enzo stood behind him "—team can go. The child's safe."
He wanted to argue with Maxfield, but it wasn't his fault Elena had messed with his concentration.
Elena swallowed hard. Indecision marked her features. He gave her a slow once-over before turning on his heel to face Bonnie and Enzo. "Let's go."
"But—"
"The child is safe, Bonnie. That is what we came for."
Confusion sparked in the depths of her eyes. "Are you sure she is okay?"
"I wouldn't leave otherwise."
That was the absolute truth. All his team members knew it. He would never leave a crime scene unless the victim was safe or— in a worst-case scenario he was much too familiar with —dead. While his gift was seen as a dark destructive force, he preferred to use it for the safe return of those victims he could help find.
Bonnie nodded. Damon marched past her toward the SUV, leaving her and Enzo to follow.
"Relax, babe. If he says the kid is okay, then the kid is okay," Enzo whispered at Damon's back.
"Will you please stop calling me babe?" Bonnie hissed.
"Damon!" The sound of Elena's yell reached him just as he was about to hop into the passenger side of his vehicle.
Damon stopped. The frustration he was tamping down surged all over again. She reached him a moment later, still panting from the run out of the burning house.
"I just want to say…thank you." Her gaze dropped down to his mouth. Lust bubbled up inside him. At her slow lick of her lips, he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from hauling her to him. To taste her. "I know your team found the child." She met his gaze. Desire sparkled in the depths of her hazel eyes. "I appreciate it."
The beast he never allowed control roared inside, demanding a taste of her lips. Ah, those lips. Those lips he would never forget. She had the full luscious bow shaped lips that he knew were soft, decadent, and fit perfectly against his. Her lips, along with every abundant curve on her sexy body, had been his downfall.
"You don't need to thank me. This is our job."
"I know I don't need to thank you. But you and your team…" Elena glanced over his shoulder into the SUV. Bonnie and Enzo were actively studying them with interest. "You got her and called for help before anything could happen. You saved this child."
Damon gripped the door handle. "No. We found her. You saved her."
"Damon…"
The hairs on his arms rose. Something unlocked inside him. Her husky voice, pitched with that sexy Latin accent, was like a punch to the gut. It was low, so low over the still blaring sirens, over the shouts from the fire-fighters, if he hadn't had enhanced hearing, he would never have heard it. None of that mattered. To hear her say his name so softly instantly brought back memories of another time, another place. A time when they had done much more than mere talking. She shifted. His attention was drawn to her chest. The material of her top plastered to her body, showing off her full breasts.
Ignore it, Damon said to himself.
He pushed the unwanted memories and feelings back. "You got the kid, Gilbert. That is what matters."
Hurt clouded her eyes. Should he care that she had been hurt because he called her by her last name? No. He couldn't care. She had left him and never returned. Until now. Those emotions weren't part of him any longer.
"Damon—"
Damon turned his back on her. He had never done it before, but he did it now. Dammit, he hadn't expected it to be so hard. He hopped into the SUV. Shut the door. And shut her out. Damn. It filled his chest with a dull pain to leave Elena there with that gratefulness shining in her eyes. But he refused to glance out the window once he was in his seat. Instead, he turned to Enzo and saw the questions in his team member's eyes and ignored them.
"Let's get out of here."
x x x
Elena watched the red tail lights from the black SUV shrink with the distance. Drops crawled down her arms. It was soothing to have the coolness from the water beat away the heat from the summer. Plus, just seeing Damon again really knocked her axis off centre.
"Anything you want to tell me?" The question came across as a demand for information.
Elena turned to the sound of Maxfield's voice. Short cropped, salt-pepper hair, perfectly coiffed showed off his broad forehead and deep-set green eyes. For a man in his early forties, Maxfield wasn't hard on the eyes. Well, not for women who liked the know-it-all types, anyway. Unfortunately, for him, Elena wasn't the least bit impressed by him.
"We are on a need to know basis here, Maxfield." She wrung the water out of her ponytail and headed for her car.
"Obviously, there is something I need to know about the relationship between you and Salvatore." He barked the words over the shouts, following her towards her black, rusty Camry. "And stop calling me Maxfield."
Elena stopped, whirled in place, and shook her head. Was the man growing delusional with his position? "Hang on a second here. You recruited me. You requested my expertise for the team. You wanted me to help lead the SPU. My past with Damon or anyone else has no bearing on my ability to do the job."
"You know you will be working close to him."
"And?" Anger simmered inside her.
Maxfield's nostrils flared. Disgust lit his eyes. Figures. He had never been the type for warm and cuddly conversations. And the last thing Elena expected was for him to encourage employee relationships. "He isn't normal. He is…He is—"
"I know exactly what he is. If I were you, I would be very careful what you say about him." She snapped her mouth shut to keep from adding anything that could, and would get her fired. Dammit, she had just started the job.
She yanked on the handle to her car. The metal creaked as it opened. Maxfield placed a hand on the top of the door, stopping her from moving it further.
"Look, Lena—"
"Don't!" Elena hissed. "Only my family calls me that. You are my superior. Don't get it confused. My accepting your job offer doesn't make us friends. It doesn't make us buddies. It just makes me your employee."
"I would like to think of us as more than just employer-employee. Possibly move things to where they should be between us." His facial lines smoothed out. There was concern in his eyes for a flash of a second. "You know how I feel about you all these years."
Then an iciness entered his gaze as Elena shook her head.
"I don't think so. All we will ever be is co-workers. Don't confuse yourself." She met Maxfield's stare with her own angry glare. He should know by now that intimidation wouldn't work on her. Being raised by her uncle, because her father had been missing in action, had toughened her up. Especially when her mother was more trouble than she wanted to think about. When her family's reality finally hit her, some hard choices had to be made. And the result had been losing the only man she had loved.
"But we have known each other for a long time."
"I'm not going to repeat myself," Elena said firmly. "We will only be co-workers. Nothing else."
"What about Salvatore?"
"What?"
"What is going on between you and Salvatore?"
"Nothing of your concern."
Maxfield's brow puckered. "If you can't handle working with Salvatore, for whatever reason, just tell me. I won't hold it against you."
Yeah, Elena just bet he wouldn't. Maxfield had recruited her as a test. To see her fail. She knew what he was after, but she wouldn't give it to him. She didn't believe he actually cared about her. He had a motive. He had come to her. Right now, she had the upper hand. An upper hand she wasn't willing to lose.
Her gaze strayed past Maxfield to the ambulance where the child was taken. A paramedic shut the doors. It took off, sirens wailing. The thickness she had felt growing at her throat expanded. Damn. She had to hold it together or Maxfield would see her as nothing more than a weakling.
"What happened to the suspect?"
His question brought her attention to his face.
"When I entered the house from the back, he was in the kitchen." She gulped at the memory of the man, of what he had been doing.
"And?"
Elena ground her teeth. "And he was sharpening some large butcher knives, happily singing a song about making stew. Kyler stew. There. Are you happy?"
Maxfield's unwavering gaze was stuck on her face. Elena tried not to flinch, knowing that any sign of discomfort would be seen as a weakness. She inhaled slowly, mentally preparing herself for the torture of reviewing what just happened.
"He had already started a fire in the kitchen. Stood there sharpening those knives. All the while, the flames spread through the place." Her stomach clenched. Oxygen had frozen in her lungs. She had seen the man light himself on fire when he had seen her. "He walked to the blaze taking up one side of the kitchen. And just stood there. Burning."
She still had a hard time believing what she had seen. The maniac had continued to sing while he burned. That song. She would have a hard time sleeping remembering the stupid song. It had made cold fingers of dread crawl up her spine.
"And the kid?"
Elena took a breath. Let it out slowly. "She was tied up to a tub filled with water. The entire house started to collapse around me. By the time I reached her most of it was on fire." She gripped the door handle. Although it bothered her to have to go through what just happened, she knew it was procedure. Plus, she would have to write it out on her report anyway. "I ran to the other room, grabbed a blanket, cut her binds, wet myself, shoved the blanket into the tub, wrapped it around her and got her out." She swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat. "End of story."
Thoughts kept whirling around her mind of all the possible things she could have found in that house. None of them good. She needed to go home. Right now. She was too raw. The throbbing in her chest since she had first laid eyes on the child hadn't dissipated yet. Too many emotions were clogging up her throat. Seeing that little girl tied up was like getting stabbed in the gut. Absolute hell. Kyler's pale green eyes had been filled with fear. Watching the drenched six-year-old shaking, her lips turning purple from the icy water almost broke her. Jesus. But this was her job. She was damn good at it and no amount of stress on a case—or her pathetic excuse of a personal life—was going to make her give it up.
"Are you sure you will be fine working with Salvatore and his team?" Maxfield asked. There was annoyance in the way he asked the question. Not concern. Never concern. That simply added to her rising temper.
Elena was tired. Tired of having to be the responsible one in her family. Of giving up everything she had ever wanted. And she was especially tired of Maxfield and his condescension. "Did you want me to promise that in blood or something?" His skin turned mottled with anger. Too bad. "I already said I'm fine. Now let me go home and let me do my job. I can handle Damon. And his team."
Maxfield stepped away, giving her space to slide into the car. He continued to watch her. Her muscles felt tight from the tension of the past hour. The engine's roar was music to her ears. Maxfield dropped down to eye level. Damn. She thought he was done.
"I won't have you or him messing with the plans I have in the Bureau."
Elena bit the inside of her cheek hard, until she swore she tasted blood. Then she counted to ten before finally answering him.
"I know what it is you want." Elena had been informed Maxfield was gunning for a high-ranking position. "I don't really care about it. That is your problem." She gripped the wheel, staring into his angry dark gaze. "But I think you should know, that you won't ever be allowed to lead the SPU. It is why they made you hire me." She smiled coldly. "You see, you need to be paranormal to lead that team. It is why I'm reporting to the head of the Bureau directly."
"I don't care what you think you know. I want to make sure that you are able to handle this. I will have the group reporting to me at some point," he growled.
Elena shook her head. "No. You won't. I know you have tried. You can't lead a special team." She shifted gears, put the car in reverse, and hit the accelerator. Tires squealed. Maxfield rushed off in order to not be run over. She stopped, turned the wheel and put it in drive. "You know why you can't lead a special team, Maxfield?"
Maxfield stood there motionless. Watching her. His face clear of all emotions but the usual anger she had come to know well.
"Because you are not special."