I cautiously turned my head to the side, peeking over my shoulder. I could feel Damon's hands on my waist, but I couldn't tell whether or not he was awake yet. Luckily, his face was blank, eyes closed. I paused, examining his worriless expression. He looked so…blissful. It was so much different from the customary mask of arrogance and bitterness that he wore. For a split second I felt the overwhelming urge to run my hands through his mussed onyx locks, brushing them from his smooth forehead like one would a child. I shook the thought. Now was my chance. Who knows if I'd ever have another.
I silently scooted away from him, easing his hands from me. It was difficult not to take off sprinting, but with his vampiric speed, stealth was my only option. I softly placed my feet on the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom, taking time to test it for creaks before standing up with my full weight on it. I stole on last glance at him, telling myself I was checking to make sure he hadn't noticed my absence from beneath the sheets. Amazingly, he laid completely still, undisturbed. My breathing was shaky and shallow. I was terrified that one wrong step, one wrong creak, bang, or sigh, would end my fateful attempt at escape. Therefore, I tiptoed with infuriating slowness toward the door, praying that I could make it through the threshold free.
Minutes later, I slid through the half-open oak door that led to the rest of the Salvatore house. Now, in the upstairs hallway, I felt safe enough to pick up the pace. Damon had compelled me not to leave the mansion and I knew better than to think I would be able to break that spell. Instead, I tried to think of any places I had seen a telephone. The first location that came to mind was the expansive den in the center of the home. I knew a landline was connected on the table next to the couch. I pranced as quietly as possible down the stairs, paranoid about every thump I made on the carpeted runner. He wasn't following me! Every time I looked back I expected to see his dark shadow, tense with rage. Instead, emptiness greeted me with surprising comfort. Not too long ago the vacant house had seemed creepy. Now the silent bareness was my lifeline.
My heart leapt into my chest at the sight of the silver phone sitting in the den. As I took my final steps toward salvation, I wondered for the first time who I should call. Stefan was my first choice, but by the time he got here to rescue me, Damon could have me hidden away somewhere else without a trace. I needed immediate aid. My heart pounded loudly, begging me to hurry up and decide. Without thinking, I called the first number on speed dial. Alaric.
The dial tone gave way to the most melodious ringing I'd ever heard. Once. No answer. Come one Alaric, please! Twice. Still nothing. My hands were shaking with nervousness. I never heard the third ring. A gruff voice answered.
"Hello, Damon?" It sounded like he'd been sleeping, and he wasn't exactly thrilled at being woken up by his vampire buddy.
My voice tumbled out in a rush, or at least it started to. "Alaric, it's Elena, you need to come over NOW! Damon…" I couldn't finish my plea. A cool white hand had grabbed the phone, crushing my grip until I was forced to let go. I cried out in terrible shock. I heard the disembodied voice of Alaric, filled with concern.
"Elena? Elena? What happened?"
I looked up into the coldest set of blue eyes I'd ever seen. Holding the phone, Damon made sure I saw his clenched jaw and balled fists. Then, he smoothly put the phone next to his ear, transforming from rage into cool indifference.
"Alaric, sorry, Elena was a bit upset. But she was right. You should come. I will tell you when you get here." His voice was a silky purr, menacing to me, probably reassuring and honest to Alaric.
"Around two, then?" Damon finalized with his best friend and vampire hunter. Then, he hung up. I was crumpled on the floor, staring in horror at his conversation. Tears of frustration and terror leaked down my cheeks. Damon turned all his attention to me. I had never seen him like this. I could almost see the aura of fury surrounding him. He was obviously struggling not to kill me, his eyes flickering back and forth between human and vamped out.
"Elena. You better fucking hide, because I'm going to kill you." He ground out without visibly opening his mouth. I was frozen, taking in his words with a drooping jaw and eyes agape. Then, he disappeared. This brought me back into myself. I scrambled up, unsure of where he'd gone. All I knew was that I had reason to fear for my life, and a very limited time to find a hiding place good enough to avoid a pissed-off one-hundred-something year old vampire in his own house. The odds were inevitably poor, but I had to try.
Strangely enough, despite practically living here for almost a year, I was unfamiliar with the layout of the boarding house. I really only knew the basics: Stefan's room, kitchen, den, Damon's room. There was a door at the far end of the den which I'd never been inside before. Without thinking, I ran toward it, yanking open the solid door and slamming it shut behind me. My tears had grown even more persistent and I was breathing with a wheeze, taken over by panic. I had to clear my head! Think, Elena, where would he not look? Not hear? Not smell. The unbearable answer to those questions was nowhere. However, I saw that I had entered into some sort of study or office. There were two closed doors. The first one I tried was a closet. Too obvious. He would check the closets. The second revealed yet another mystery room. This one had shelves upon shelves of books and movies. A brief moment of curiosity and awe penetrated my attempt at hiding. I swept it away, desperately searching for a nook or cranny to wedge myself into.
I had no idea where Damon was or how long I had. This knowledge only made it harder to focus. The look in his eyes, I gulped. Well, it had not been promising. I only hoped that Alaric's impending visit would offer me some way out. Surely he would want to see me. Then I could tell him what was going on. I hoped.
There was a window seat large enough to fit into, if the top of it revealed a hidden storage unit. My fingers grasped the ledge with tentative apprehension. To my utter relief, the top lifted away, leaving an empty nook for me to cram myself into. I bent my knees to my chest, burrowing my face to my arms. I lowered the top back down, trembling. I had to stop crying and calm my breathing. The darkness I was plunged into was thick as smoke, choking me. I had never been fond of small spaces, and now the combined threat of Damon along with the fact that I was scrunched in a tiny dark box, was a veritable hell.
I don't know how long I waited. Sometimes I thought I heard footsteps. But it was impossible to tell whether they were real or a figment of my imagination. This waiting left me with time to think, ironically.
Firstly, there was the issue-a recurring one, I might add-of whether Damon could really kill me. Well, of course he could, but would he? He claimed to love me, and I sort of believed him. He obviously wanted me an awful lot to lock me inside his house and force me into having sex with him, feeding off of me several times. Oh…the sex. My heart split in two at the memory. Because there was no doubt I had enjoyed it. But did that mean it wasn't rape? The immense pain had resulted in immense pleasure, but I hadn't wanted it. Or had I? Flashes of images of Damon's body flitted through my mind, leaving me aching. I remembered the way he'd made me feel, like I was on fire. It was something entirely new, unexplored, and scary.
I supposed I'd only have to worry about it if I survived the present ordeal.
There still didn't seem to be any approaching footsteps. My breathing was becoming quieter, more relaxed. Maybe I'd won this round. But Alaric was coming at two, and how would Damon explain my absence?
An ominous groan sounded from above me. For a second I thought it was my own cry of despair, but logic told me that it was not a human noise. I stared blindly in horror at the top of the window-seat. It had been the creak of wood under pressure. Someone was here, and I was pretty sure it wasn't Alaric. I tried beyond hope to remain silent. Of course, Damon must know I'm in here, but I couldn't bring myself to give away my position, just in case.
Three distinct knocks echoed around me. The sound of an impatient fist banging above me.
"Knock, knock, anyone home?" A mocking voice inquired from just outside my hideout. Oh shit. I was barraged by flashbacks of his furious face. I'd lost this game.
"When I ask a question, I expect an answer, Elena." Damon scolded, still using the fake-cheery voice. Why was he drawing this out? Why didn't he just open the lid and drag me out already? My mind frantically whirled in circles.
As if answering my thoughts, Damon kicked the top of the window seat with such force that it flew off the hinges. I must've been a pathetic sight, huddled inside, eyes rendered useless by the darkness.
"Now, there she is." Damon murmured almost to himself before bending down and grasping my arms in a vice, yanking me upright with no effort at all. He grabbed my chin, tugging my face to look directly into his own. He appeared completely emotionless. Not angry, not upset. Just blank. This cold detachedness was almost as bad. Almost. I was speechless, once again hypnotized.
"I promise, I will deal with you later. For now, it's almost two o'clock, and you are still in pajamas. You need to go upstairs, get dressed, brush your hair, and think of how you are going to tell Ric how perfectly okay everything is. The only thing that happened this morning was me, draining a sorority girl. You saw it and freaked out. I didn't kill her, though. She's back in her dorm with no memory, replenishing her blood supply." Damon hissed the proposed lie.
Then, the doorbell rang.
Damon picked me up swiftly, rocketing upstairs to his room and dumping me unceremoniously on the floor. I saw that an outfit was laid out on the bed. Damon was back downstairs in a blink, but not without giving me a threatening glare first.
"If you try anything else, you will be very sorry." Something told me I was going to be very sorry regardless.
If I was going to have any chance at all of fooling Ric, I was going to have to stop blushing and quivering like a maniac. Wait, fooling Ric? I'd gone to all the trouble to get him here, and now what? I was just going to let him go along with Damon's story? Right now, under my feet was the key to escaping Damon's clutches, if only temporarily. As I yanked a top over my tangled nest of hair, I came to the conclusion that I had to at least try. Whatever the consequences were, they would evaporate if I could just make it out.
I winced, tugging a hairbrush through my unstraightened locks. I looked in the mirror. I was a mess. I didn't have any makeup left on my face except for mascara and eyeliner smears. Even after being brushed, my hair was nowhere near its usual luster and smoothness. And, truth be told, I was going to be hard-pressed to maintain enough self-control not to run downstairs screaming Alaric's name, begging for help. But that wouldn't get me anywhere.
I gradually stepped closer to the stairs, hearing muffled voices coming from the foyer. I couldn't make out what they were saying. Something about feeding habits. Then, I swore I caught a concerned voice asking where I was. The reply, there was no mistaking the velvety smooth purr, came from Damon.
"I'll go grab her."
I felt naked without my vervain. Surely Damon would easily compel me to keep quiet if I showed even a hint of dissension. Too soon I saw the dark vampire walking at human speed up the stairs toward where I stood.
"Come on, Elena, let's go show our guest that you are okay. He seemed worried by the tone of your phone call." Damon spat facetiously. He took my hand in his own. The contact sent electricity down my spine. For some reason I was ashamed.
He looked deeply into my eyes. I momentarily feared that he was going to compel me. Instead, he tangled on hand in my hair, yanking my head back into a deep, probing kiss. That kiss, it couldn't have been more than ten seconds, jumbled my thoughts so badly that when we went to walk down the stairs, I could barely make it without tripping, not to mention form a cohesive plan for informing Alaric of my plight.
"I do tend to have that effect on people," Damon laughed, hand on the small of my back to keep me upright.
Downstairs, Alaric stood, scrutinizing me. He was a tall man with sandy hair. Despite his drinking habits, he was well formed and attractive. Lately, he'd been a bit of a mess because of losing Jenna along with his purpose in life. He and Damon were best friends, ironically. A vampire hunter and a vampire who wasn't exactly the most kind or respectful when it came to human life. I had the sneaking suspicion that the backbone behind their partnership was the fact the both of them were bitter and lost. Well ,that and bourbon.
"Elena!" Alaric breathed, apparently overjoyed to see me breathing and uninjured. The look in his eyes made me feel guilty for putting him through so much worry.
"Safe and sound, as promised." Damon reassured him, slapping his friend on the shoulder.
"I know, I believed you…I just had to see for myself. The way you sounded on the phone this morning, Elena…" He was looking at me for some sort of explanation. This was the do or die moment.
"I…I, um" The choice between fact and fiction hitched my sentence. I nervously looked to Damon. His eyes were burning a hole in my forehead.
"Actually, Ric, I'm fine now, I was just a little worked up, that's all."
"Oh, well, if you need anything, you know where to call."
"Hey, wait, do you think you could drive me home? I hate to bug you but all my clothes are there and my makeup and my straightening iron and…you get the picture." I sucked in one final breath, not daring to look at Damon now. His murderous glare might ruin my resolve. Please, Alaric, please! I begged internally.
"Of course! No problem, it's on the way." Alaric grinned, eager for some company. Relief ran through my veins, mixed with equal parts dread. Because I knew Damon would just follow me. And then I was in serious trouble. But I really did need clothes and such! And this afforded me time to talk some sense into Damon. Maybe I could persuade him to think rationally. The idea of it surprisingly sent a small arrow through my heart. Damon thinking rationally meant an end to his lust, passion, and craving for me. I shook my head. Stockholm syndrome already? I was stronger than this.
I stopped at the door, unable to step outside. Shit, I'd forgotten Damon's compulsion! Ric was going to know something was wrong. Damon quickly yanked my arm backward and caught my defiant eyes.
"Go ahead, Elena." I inwardly cringed, knowing what awaited me when I arrived at my house, assuming he would follow me.
I walked out the door, following Alaric. Damon stood at the door frame, visibly tense and unhappy. I still didn't have the guts to really look him in the face. I kept my head down and tried to keep from sprinting to Ric's car in glee. Freedom, if only short-lived, was freedom nonetheless.
The drive was filled with boring small talk. It was a little weird that Ric was an ally and history teacher. He was in on all of the vampire secrets and conflicts, but I had to see him at school everyday and act like everything was normal. Now, here I was, driving home with him. I should tell him to take me somewhere else, somewhere safe. I should tell him all that's happened in the past two days with Damon. Instead I chatter about schoolwork and spring break plans. Something in me was holding out.
"Well, here's your stop, Elena. Ya need anything else?" Ric, with no idea still that anything was wrong, casually gestured toward my two-story house. It felt like eons since I'd seen it last.
"No, Alaric, I'm fine thanks." He didn't look convinced. I think he was suspicious that he was out of the loop. If only he knew how right his instincts were. But it wouldn't be right of me to drag him into this, especially when I was so unsure where I stood on it myself.
And then I stood alone on the driveway, half fearing half hoping that a lovely dark angel would stalk out of the bushes, glowering dangerously. Something was REALLY wrong with me! Had Damon compelled me? He'd basically raped me, bit me, and threatened me. These sobering thoughts sent me trotting to the front door, eager to enter my former residence.
The hallways were plain compared to the Salvatore's luxury. Also, it seemed tiny! Every corner taunted me, promising to be hiding an upset vampire half-concealed in shadow. To my imminent surprise, I made it to my room and Damon wasn't there either! Of course, it was foolish to think for even a second that he'd abandoned his mission. If anything this was a mere timeout-a rest break-in his grand scheme, whatever it was.
You know what it is, my subconscious whispered. To make me love him. He had a funny way of doing it.
Robotically I pulled a duffel bag from under my bed, stuffing every toiletry and piece of clothing I could get my hands on into it. While I packed, my mind was wandering. Was I packing for an escape or for a return? I didn't get to decide the answer for myself.
"Silly, stupid little Elena. What are you packing for, little girl? Running away from the big. Bad. Wolf." His words burnt through the air like acid, turning me to stone facing him as he climbed nonchalantly through my window. With each word he took a step closer to me, until he was practically nuzzling his cheek against mine. In that moment, I wished in vain that I'd thought of a better plan. That is, any plan at all.
"It's good that you packed a bag." Damon smiled sardonically down at me. "Now you will have your own clothes when we go back to the house. As in now."
I steeled myself to protest, but the air was knocked from my chest when he brutally heaved me over his shoulder like a sack of burdensome potatoes. We were moving so quickly that my eyes threatened to roll back in my head, the world passing like a blur. Maybe a minute later we were standing in Damon's room instead of the one at my house, in the same position.
Finally able to catch my breath, rage surged through me. "What the Hell! What are you doing!? Stop this! I swear to God, I will call Stefan." I rushed forward, trying to shove Damon's solid chest across the room. He didn't budge.
"No, actually you won't. I'm going to make sure of that." Damon's voice was reminiscent of the growls he'd uttered this morning after I had called Alaric. It seemed like so long ago. He caught my wrists in one hand, yanking them above my head and incapacitating me.
"You see, when you piss me off, you don't get to run away OR yell at me. You did both. And I haven't even started to punish you yet. Believe me, when we're done, you are not going to want to even think about touching a phone ever again."
Something lurched in my throat. He was dead serious and deadly mad. Not a good combination. I swung from bold to cowering in record time.
"That's more like it." Damon smirked at my reaction, taking time to relish it before whisking me to the bed, pinning me down.
"DAMON! Get off of me! I'm serious, you cannot keep doing this!" I struggled pointlessly. I was scared of what he was going to do to me as well as furious at him for even threatening to hurt me.
"But we haven't even started yet." Damon pouted, his perfect lips inches above mine. Hypnotizing. His flawless skin hovered like a mirage, engulfing every inch of my vision. But his most striking features were those electric blue eyes, which sent shivers to my stomach just to look at. They were so cold yet simultaneously burning hot, scalding me with their smoldering intensity. Every bit of my body was screaming danger. But those eyes…I couldn't look away.
A strong, elegant hand snaked around my throat, exerting light pressure. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly noticeable. Damon's lips descended, ravaging my mouth. His sweet tongue probed my mouth, swirling dominantly, owning me. His past words echoed in my mind. ("you are mine").
I felt his fangs biting my lips, sucking eagerly at the blood drawn. It tried to escape him but the hand around my neck held my head in place, preventing it from moving. I wanted to scream, but instead it came out as a moan. Damon came up for an unnecessary breath, blood coating his teeth and lips. I wanted to yank him back down, to continue the lust which was growing in my core. Somehow, seeing my blood on his mouth was contributing to my arousal instead of distracting from it.
Damon was ever too happy to oblige the want in my eyes. He caught my bottom lip in his sharp canines, puncturing two new wounds in it. Tears streamed out of my eyes. It hurt unbearably this time. I squirmed, still trying to shove him off. My body was screaming conflict, leaving me a confused mess under Damon's insistent hunger. I could tell he wasn't taking much blood. Jesus, that probably meant he wanted to drag this out as long as possible.
Damon stopped again, looking at me with his silvery, bloodshot, darkened countenance. "You wanted to escape me. That's very bad." In this state, his disappointment and, possibly, hurt, were even more monstrously consuming.
He removed his hand from my throat only to clamp it around my chin, forcing my face up to his with frightening roughness. "You were going to leave! You fucking called Alaric, of all people!"
Then he was ripping at my shirt, exposing my bare, milky skin to his desperate grasps. I wasn't wearing a bra due to my hurried dressing earlier. Instead of tenderly suckling my breasts he slapped them. Hard. I cried out at the stinging blows, wondering if he was using a touch of his vampiric strength. The tears ran thicker over my cheeks, yet somehow I was still turned on by the perfect form above me. The whole scene was erotic. I was ashamed.
"What's next, Elena? Will you stake me in my sleep? Does none of this mean anything to you?" He stroked downward toward my sex, unbuttoning my pants swiftly
Yes. Yes! I thought to myself. Was I answering his questions or his hands?
He licked down my throat to my sternum with tantalizing slowness, sending tremors of need through my body.
"Or am I just a monster to you?" He ground, vamping out and clamping down on my shoulder with startling voracity. This time I could definitely feel him pulling dregs of blood into his mouth, not infusing it with pleasure. I screamed, but he didn't stop until he was ready, showing me again how little an effect I had on him. Though really, it was my effect on him that was the cause of all of this in the first place.
He reached again for my now dripping slit, literally tearing the fabric of my jeans and panties from my hips. He seemed so close to losing control, and every part of me was throbbing with the pain of blood loss and his rough treatment.
"Damon, please. Please, stop this." I begged quietly, breathing the words.
"What? What is it you fucking want? Because I can smell your arousal from a mile away. Every time you look at me. Even now. So I'm guessing what you really mean is 'please, keep going, Damon'. And that tells me maybe I'm not being quite punishing enough?"
Contrary to his last statement, Damon rubbed his fingers between my thighs, eliciting moaning from me. He was right. I did want for him to keep going. He bent over me, shoving his tongue over my folds, licking a taste. He groaned almost imperceptibly then buried his teeth into my thigh.
"Aaaaahhhhh! Damon! Stop! Please!" The edge between pleasure and pain was becoming blurry, but the sensitivity of my flesh made his gnawing unbearable. I was thrashing, survival instinct kicking in.
"Fuck you, Damon, get off! You're hurting me!" My shouts turned to screams when he ignored me yet again. I could still feel the raw sting of the bite on my shoulder, combing with his current feeding spot to send me into a frenzy of horror. Finally, he pulled out, to my relief. I shivered uncontrollably, overtaken by sensation.
"Actually, I think you're probably right. We should fuck soon, before you pass out."
He licked at my sex, bringing me back to a state of heightened need, turning fear and harm into lovely burning heat in my core. Sensing I was ready, he reached down to position himself at my entrance, shoving his impressive member into me in one cruel thrust. I arched up to meet him.
His fingers dug into my hips, bruising me instantly. The force of his thrusts was too much to bear. I writhed in ecstasy and agony beneath his talented hands. Slowly, a predictable ache built between my legs, causing the walls of my vagina to spasm in time to Damon's fucking. Perhaps sensing how close I was to orgasm, Damon picked up the pace, licking his way back into my mouth.
"Tell me you aren't going to leave." He breathed against my face, piercing me with his intensely protective cobalt glare.
"I won't leave." I murmured in response, assenting in the throes of passion.
Damon's cock drove into me several more times before I flew apart, twitching and crying my pleasure. He came soon after me, burying his seed deep within me, licking at my shoulder, lapping any remaining blood away from the wound there, savoring me to further his climax. I couldn't even see straight when he stood up beside the bed. I just kept laying in a daze.
"I love you, Elena. Go to sleep." He walked out of the room. I wanted to beg him to stay, to lay next to me like he had the first night he kidnapped me to his room, his strong arms wrapped around me. I wanted to tell him I loved him back, even if it was just the rush of endorphins talking. Which I was sure it was. Instead, I didn't move. I just watched his back as he walked away, leaving me alone, eyes drooping.
Goodnight, my beautiful, evil, dark vampire. And for the first night since Damon had "kidnapped" me, I didn't stay up plotting escape.