They walk nearly a quarter mile down the dry creek bed before Damon stops abruptly. "Do you smell that?"
Stefan sniffs the air. "Mm, yeah. That smells good. Almost as good as Elena."
Damon gives him a "did you really just say that?" look before the two proceed, taking care to move silently on the brittle leaves that cover the creek's pebbled bottom. As they round the next bend, the sound of a shovel biting into soil gradually grows louder. Vampire-fast, they scramble up the steep sides of the creek bed toward the sound, hoping to catch the digger.
To their surprise, they find a petite college-aged girl shoveling dirt into a deep trench. Her dark brown hair is tied back in a messy bun, and her fuchsia t-shirt clings to her sweaty body.
"Whatcha doin'?" Damon asks breezily as he and Stefan approach the girl.
She looks up with a start, a fleeting look of fear on her face before she giggles and waves hello. "Oh my God," she says, leaning on the shovel, "I know this sound totally ridiculous, but I was hiking through the woods here, and I almost like, fell in this bigass hole. I mean, who digs random six-foot-deep holes in the middle of the forest, right?"
"And you just happened to have a shovel in your pocket and decided to fill it in?" Damon says, giving his brother an "is she for real?" look.
"Oh my God," she laughs, pushing Damon's shoulder flirtily with a dirt-flecked hand, "you're so funny! No, I found this leaning on that oak tree over there." She gestures vaguely at the forest, which grows thickly around the ten-foot clearing in which they stand. "Whoever dug this hole must've left it there or something. I just thought I'd like, fill it up so no one else falls in."
"Yeah, I bet you could fit a lot of bod—" Damon starts before Stefan interrupts.
"Do you need any help?"
"That would be amazing," she gushes, handing him the shovel. "Thank you so much! I think I'm like, getting blisters, ew."
Stefan grabs the shovel and passes it on to Damon, warning him to behave with a pointed look. Damon narrows his eyes at his brother in a sour look that anyone else would miss.
"Let's sit. You must be exhausted," Stefan says to the girl and settles down on the ground near the trench. "I'm Stefan, and that's my brother Damon"
'I'm Ari," she says, flopping down next to him. "Do you guys like, hike around here often?"
"Sometimes," Stefan says.
"Do you guys always hike in like, leather jackets and dress shirts?" she giggles, twisting a strand of hair in her fingers.
"Today was uh, kind of spur-of-the-moment."
"Hardcore," she says, maintaining eye contact with Stefan a few seconds longer than necessary. When she looks away, her eyes fall on Damon, who is standing in the deep hole, shoveling dirt out instead of in. "Hey! I'm trying to fill up the hole. You're like, making it bigger."
"Don't worry," Damon says, not bothering to look up at her. "I just want to see if there's anything in here, like buried treasure."
"OMG, stop it!" She jumps in the hole, grabbing for the shovel. "If you're just going to ruin my work, I'll do it myself!"
He yanks the handle out of her reach. "Come on, it'll just take a minute."
She grabs for it again, but he extends his arm, keeping the shovel out of her reach. "You are such a jerk!"
"Damon…" Stefan warns, getting up to stand at the edge of the hole.
"Relax," Damon says, looking up. "I got this."
Noticing Damon's momentary distraction, Ari lunges for the shovel and jerks it out of his hand.
"Aw come on," he says. "I was just messing around."
"Whatever, douchebag" she retorts as she tosses the shovel out of the trench and hauls herself out.
Hey, I'm sorry about the shovel thing," Damon says with a close approximation of sincerity as he climbs out of the hole.
She doesn't respond, only walks to the pile of dirt and jams the shovel in. Suddenly she stiffens and lets go of the shovel to scan the trees around the clearing. The Salvatores watch her curiously. "I think you guys need to leave," she says abruptly, no trace of her ditzy self. "Now."
"I'm sorry, I really mean it," Damon apologizes again. "I promise I won't—"
Listen, I don't care about that," Ari cuts in, a look of barely controlled panic on her face. "You guys just need to go. It's not safe for—" Her words are cut off as 10 figures emerge from the thick woods. "Shit." She moves to put herself between the Salvatores and the approaching people, hands out as if to shield the brothers.
"Well, if it isn't Ariana Patra," drawls the foremost incomer, a man who appears to be the leader of the group. "I didn't think I'd ever find you in the company of vampires. If we'd known, we'd've brought some vervain with us."
"Fuck, for serious?" she looks back at the two. Stefan smiles benignly and shrugs, his arms open in a mea culpa gesture; Damon winks cheekily, allowing his fangs to extend and retract quickly. "Are these daywalkers yours?" she turns back around to address the man.
"As if we werewolves would ever share something as precious as you with their kind," he scoffs.
"And that's why you're not going to touch her," Stefan says, stepping up to stand beside Ari.
The werewolves laugh. "You're no match for ten of us. Just give her to us and we'll let you run back to Mystic Falls."
"Ari ripped out the hearts of the five who came last night," Damon says, stepping forward as well. "So I'd say we're about even." He winks at Ari, who glares at him in return.
Without warning, the werewolves lunge forward. Several drop the heavy silver nets they carry and break off stout branches to use as makeshift stakes. Stefan and Damon extend their fangs in response, sanguine veins rising to the surface of the skin beneath their onyx eyes. Ari closes her eyes and inhales deeply.
Stefan leaps on the nearest werewolf, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as he sinks his fangs into her jugular. She manages to embed her stake in his neck before he tosses her corpse aside. Damon is attacked by two werewolves at once, both burly men at least a half size bigger than he. He dodges their blows, unable to get close enough to deal a fatal strike. Stefan yanks out the branch and jabs it through the left eye of the man coming at him from behind. As soon as the stake is out of his neck, the wound heals, leaving behind a sticky wash of blood.
Stefan speeds over to help his brother, snapping the neck of one assailant before either can process his presence. The other werewolf is distracted just long enough for Damon to lunge past the stake and rip out his throat. As the man falls to the ground, the clearing goes quiet Stefan and Damon turn toward the trees, fearing that Ari has been overpowered and carried off by the remaining six.
Instead, they see her slim figure standing unsteadily near the edge of the trees, six bodies scattered around her.
"Jesus Christ," Damon says. "I was just bluffing when I said you'd killed those other werewolves." He and Stefan hurry toward her. As they approach, they notice several vertebrae, a couple of hearts, and what looks like chunks of intestine littering the ground beside the unmarked bodies.
"Are you going to drain my blood now?" she asks them, trying to smile as she turns to face them. "I know it's irresistible to you."
"Aw, come on, we don't run around drinking from every nice-smelling human we come across," Damon responds.
Ari laughs. "Wait, you guys think I'm human?"
"What, are you a werewolf or a witch?" Stefan wants to know, suddenly concerned. "Is this some kind of pack feud we're getting mixed up in?"
"Oh my God," she rubs her forehead as if nursing a migraine. Her words start to slur. "I didn't realize vampires could be so clueless."
"Hey—" Damon starts to protest.
Stefan puts a hand out to cut him off. "So what are you?"
Ari sways where she stands. "Do you promise not to harm me or hand me over to the werewolves?"
"Yes," Damon and Stefan both say impatiently.
She takes a deep breath, as if gathering up the dregs of her energy, and extends her hand, palm down in an almost fascist salute. "Then I bind you to your word."
"What?" Stefan says, not expecting this turn of events.
As if in response, she collapses on the ground.
"Well, that's classic," Damon drawls as Stefan hurries forward to check her pulse.
"Unconscious," Stefan announces. "But check out the burns she's got. It looks like they're from the nets."
Damon comes over to examine the latticework of raw, blistered skin that matches the silver nets' weave. It covers the right side of her face and trails down her neck. Both her forearms are burned to the point that the crisscrossing burn lines have become one solid patch of red skin around the bits of the nets embedded in her flesh.
"Shit," Damon says, peeling a section of silver chain out of her palm. "She's not going to be happy when she wakes up."
"More importantly, what was that whole 'I bind you to your word' thing about?" Stefan asks, rising to his feet and looking at the carnage around them.
"I don't know, but it reeks of magic," Damon says darkly.
"Yeah, but she's not a witch, or else she would've gotten rid of the bodies with magic."
"True," Damon agrees, standing up. "And speaking of which, we probably need to get rid of all these."
"Think they'll fit in that hole she dug? It's almost six feet deep."
"Yeah. It's almost like she knew they'd be coming," Damon says, grabbing the collar of the nearest corpse and dragging it to the trench. "When I found the bodies last night, they were just covered with some branches. She must've come back to bury them this morning and figured she'd make room for a few more."
"Well, she's going to have to answer a lot of questions when she wakes up." Stefan rolls a body into the hole. "Whenever that'll be."
It is only a matter of minutes before the bodies are stacked and buried. As Damon brushes the freshly turned dirt with a branch and scatters leaves over it to erase any indication of what les beneath, Stefan gathers up the silver nets.
"Aw shit," he says, nudging a vertebra with the toe of his boot, "we forgot to bury the body parts too."
"Wrap them up in the nets," Damon says. "We might as well take them with us."
"You got another Ziploc?" Stefan asks. "I don't want to get werewolf blood all over my car."
Damon rolls his eyes, but produces another from his pocket.
"Keep this up, and you'll be a soccer mom in no time," Stefan teases as he grabs the bag.
"Shut up," Damon advises.
Stefan laughs and fills the bag with body parts. "Ready to go?" he asks, slinging the nets over one shoulder. "You get to carry her." He nods at the still-unconscious Ari.
"Yippee," Damon says as he unceremoniously slings her over his shoulder. "What?" he says defensively, seeing Stefan's "for serious?" expression. "She's unconscious. She'll never know."