A/N: So here we are again. I'd like to give a very awesome shout out damonismyhomeboy, vizzyIAM,! You two give the best, and often the most insightful, reviews. I love when I'm actually talked to in terms of feedback in a story and you guys do that, sooo I'm dedicating this to the both of you. Hope I make you guys proud. Also, thank you guys so much for all that you do review. A lot of people come through and glimpse stories, but only some of you say something and I think it's cool that you do. It lets me know that I'm doing right by something we all love and gives me the courage to keep going. Major love to Beautifulcurare also!

*Puts on 3D glasses*

Chapter Seven: Essence

Damon had the idea that if I used more spells to channel my magic instead of just throwing magic out, then I'd become more powerful.

There was only one problem. "I do cast spells."

"No." Damon said. "You either focus all of your magic on one thing or you make something random happen. That isn't spell casting. Undoing old magic isn't spell casting either. Yeah you opened a tomb and found a few work arounds in a curse here and there, but when have you ever actually casted a spell? That's how you get powerful."

He tossed a leather bound book on the table in front of me. The cover had all kinds of strange symbols that I'd never seen before, and the book itself gave off power. I could feel a stirring in my aura and a prod at my power.

"Where did you get this?" I asked in amazement.

He shrugged. "Won it off a witch in England."

I managed to take my eyes off the book. Barely. "You won a spell book off a witch in England?"

"Yes, little echo, I did. He wasn't happy about it either."

I'd imagine not. I grabbed the book and opened it, eyes skimming over the first page. The spells themselves were in Latin, but whoever the witch had been had written the translations and uses for them. My eyes landed on one in particular that I wanted to try.

Damon saw it on my face. "Do not read anything out loud from-"

"Ignis." I breathed.

A flame started in the center of the table and danced in front of me. I could feel that my magic had conjured it and I could feel that it was waiting for me to do something with it, but what I didn't feel was tired. There was no draining sensation, no over use of magic. It was almost as if I hadn't done anything at all.

Water splashed onto flame.

I met the eyes of one very annoyed vampire. "Maybe I should take that back."

I held the book away from him. "Never. I didn't even feel that."

"You weren't supposed to." He said. "That's how it feels when magic is done right."

It made me question where I'd been going wrong. "You think this can really make me stronger?"

"I think this," he pointed at the book. "Can help teach you how to pace your magic. You don't know your limits and constantly overexert yourself. Most witches only go that far when they're trying to work something big. You kill yourself trying to slow down the average vampire."

I looked down at the book and flipped through the pages. Each page I saw got wordier and wordier the further back I flipped. It was like a textbook. It started you off with the simple things and gradually pushed you towards something greater. By the time I got finished with this book, I could maybe even move on to another one if he had it.

Which got me thinking. "Just how many spell books do you have?"

"Enough." He said, sitting down and crossing his legs.

That wasn't an answer, but okay. "Why do you have them?"

"Know thy enemy."

I could call Damon Salvatore a lot of things, but stupid didn't make the list. It was the one thing I'd thought about since I'd become a witch, and one of the few things Grams hadn't touched upon. If vampires had been alive for so long, why didn't any of them ever do what Damon did? He collected information on his enemies and held onto it for as long as possible. If half the vampires who'd threatened me and my friends had even an ounce of that kind of planning, we'd have all been dead a long time ago.

"You seem pretty knowledgeable." I told him.

"Bonnie Bennett, was that a compliment?" he smiled big.

"An observation." I corrected. "I just mean that you seem so immersed in everything. You know about witches and werewolves and have all of these sources. Why isn't Stefan this…"

"Useful? Intelligent? Handsome?" Damon finished for me.

"I was going to say knowledgeable." I said.

"That the only word you know?" he countered.

"It's pretty apt given the situation."

"Point taken." Damon said as he sat up. "I didn't run from who I was Bennett, I embraced it."

"As opposed to Stefan?" I said.

"Completely opposed to Stefan." He continued. "My brother would rather sulk and blame himself for who he is instead of owning up to the mistakes he's made. Have you ever heard him make a point about it? Funniest shit ever."

I shook my head. "You shouldn't laugh at other people's pain."

"Stefan isn't in pain, he has poor coping abilities and internalization issues. He isn't in anymore pain than the next person."

"He doesn't feel like he's good." I told Damon. "He doesn't think he can be anymore."

Damon chuckled. "That's the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever heard."

I rolled my eyes. "You would think that way."

"You're damn right I would. Nobody knows how to be good, witch. Nobody. Good, much like beauty and right and wrong, is subjective. It varies from person to person. To some people you aren't good because you're a witch. To some people, Elena isn't good because everyone she's around dies at some point or another."

It was the first time anyone of us had admitted it aloud.

"Being good is one of those things you can't focus on too much. Do what's right for you. If you notice, helping others is seen as a 'good' but if you ask the person why they did it, what do they say?"

"It was the right thing to do."

He nodded. "Exactly. We're all in situations where we have to do the right thing and the wrong thing, but what makes and defines us are the flexibilities we allow for them. Killing isn't wrong to me. I'm a creature of the night and a killer. I have to drink blood to survive. I have to. Am I not good because I feed?"

"No, you aren't good because you kill." I said.

"But that's good by your standards. It's a completely different moral scorecard when you're a vampire."

"So what you're saying is that Stefan can't be good because he holds the actual state of being so in too high of a regard?"

His face grew serious. "Let me put it in simpler terms. Stefan can't be 'good' as the both of you put it because that's not what he wants. Stefan can't be 'good' because Stefan is a vampire. What Stefan wants is to be human. Anything other than that isn't good enough for him."

I didn't know what to say.

"The reason Stefan doesn't feel like he's good enough for Elena is because he can't give her what he feels she wants. He wants to give her kids and a normal life and blah, blah, blah, but what he hasn't realized is that Elena was never normal. Doppelganger blood didn't just show up because Stefan's a vampire, but he blames himself for it anyway. Sure, maybe Klaus wouldn't have found her, but I doubt it. I'm pretty sure if Katherine kept up with Isobel, she knew about Elena too. Anything that Katherine knows, Klaus can sure as hell find out. I'd pieced all of this together and you're smart enough so I'll give you the same credit. My brother? No. Never has been."

I'd always found the Salvatore dynamic to be interesting. I'd never known it to go further than just unsaid emotions and jealousy over Katherine. But sitting here now across from Damon, I could see things I'd normally had never paid attention to. And now, I could see the stark differences between the two as well. Stefan strived for the unobtainable and Damon worked with what he had. Stefan reached for long shots and Damon placed sure bets. We'd all thought Damon was a loose cannon, but maybe it begged the question:

Would you rather have a realistic loose cannon or an escapist do gooder?

Damon continued. "After I was turned, I left to do the one thing my father was against. I saw the world. I met vampires in Europe who gorged on human blood and believed in the ways of old. I dined with Asian vampires who believed that people should be willing in all feedings without compulsion. I traveled from country to country, learning and living and thriving. I danced with witches and even ate a few. I lived as a vampire, I didn't run from it. This was and is my life. I won't harp on my mistakes and I won't pine for my humanity. I don't laugh at Stefan's pain, if that's what he feels, let him feel it. I laugh because rather than make the best of what he has with the girl who loves him, he'd rather complain and bitch about the life he chose."

"He chose it?" I asked.

"Stefan had a choice, we both did. Mine was to die. He killed our father and forced me to drink from some whore he'd found. Stefan's mess is Stefan's. I won't participate in his whining and, if you care about him in the slightest, you won't either."

I got us back on subject. "So you played world traveler for awhile."

"I did it for well over a century." He nodded. "I decided that if I was going to be a vampire, I was going to be a damn good one. In order to do that, I had to learn about the different things that could help, hinder, and kill me. Most of the things that could do what I wanted which, at the time, was to free Katherine required a witch. I studied witchcraft and I learned it for myself. Can I use it? No, but I know how it works. The servants of nature and the preservers of balance. All of it is give and take."

"You studied us."

"I learned the basics. Every witch is different. There are a few practitioners and less powerful witches that I pretty much know inside and out, but lineages like yours are few and far in between. It's old magic that no one can really prepare for and, moreover, it's tied in with vampires."

I knew that last part. Emily Bennett had made the daylight rings for most of the vampires she'd come into contact with. I doubt she was forced, from what I'd heard she'd liked Katherine, but I can't imagine it sat well with our ancestors. I knew that if my helping vampires had pissed off the spirits, I couldn't fathom what helping them walking around in daylight garnered as far as punishment.

"What was she like?" I asked.

"Who?"

"Emily."

Damon smiled. "Quiet and sweet with fire in her eyes. She played her role well, but rebelled when she wanted. She believed in the good of others when she had no reason to. She helped those who needed it and punished those who harmed. She was a lot like you in a way."

"Was that a compliment?"

"An observation."

I looked away. "She was way more powerful than I am."

He nodded. "Granted, but there weren't so many limitations on magic back then. A witch started off small and got stronger as time progressed. You kind of jumped head first into big spells."

"I didn't have a choice." I said.

"I guess you didn't."

The silence that hung between us wasn't unlike the silence that had happened between Stefan and I earlier. It was clear to me that Damon wanted to say something, but what shocked me was that he wasn't saying it. He was the outspoken one, the one who had an answer for everything. I didn't expect to ever know what it was like to see him bite his tongue, but here it was.

And then.

"I'm sorry about Shelia."

Of all the things I'd expected to come from a Salvatore, I hadn't even considered this. For months I grew resentful of Elena because, while she meant good, her bullshit with the brothers had essentially cost my Grams her life, but Elena was the one who got all the apologies. At least the heartfelt ones. I always got the "Bonnie, I know but…" and the "I understand, but we need…" but I'd never gotten one sincere apology from anyone. Elena tried, she did, but when you harbor the amount of anger I was at the time, you didn't want to hear it.

Damon could tell he'd shocked me. "You're surprised."

"Slightly." I said after a few seconds.

"Why?"

"You just…you don't seem like one who does a lot of apologizing."

"I don't."

I figured. "Why now?"

He sighed and sat back in his chair. "Contrary to what you might believe about me, I'm still a person. I know what it's like to lose someone close to you. I know what it's like to look at the person who took them from you in the face and have to keep cool. You deserve it and I owe it."

It was then that a car pulled up outside. Damon listened. "Stefan and Elena. Shit, and Caroline."

I was up and packing my jacket and new spell book into my bag. "Is there a back way out?"

Damon smirked. "Ashamed to be seen with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not supposed to be, remember? I can't explain to Elena and I damn sure don't want to."

"You've been doing that a lot lately." Damon commented.

"What?"

"Holding back from them."

"I'd be stupid if I assumed they told me everything. I don't think this is any different." I said.

"That's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say." Damon stood.

The door creaked open.

Suddenly I was moving. The house flew by in a blur of deep burgundy and rich wood. Damon's hand was around mine and I found myself being mesmerized by how soft it was. I'd always assumed the skin of a vampire was tougher than that of a human's, but his didn't feel like it. It wasn't as cold as I expected either. He wasn't the same temperature I was by any means, but he was still a lot warmer than expected.

In the three seconds it'd taken me to blink and realize where I was, I was facing a doorway. Damon opened it and revealed the woods behind the boarding house.

"Make a left up the side of the house and should take you around front."

I cursed. "Elena and Caroline know I'm here. My car's out front."

"They're questioning it, but they're both inside. I'd hurry."

I took a step and stopped. "Thank you. For what you said, I mean."

"Read up." He nodded towards my bag and closed the door.

Damon made going up the side of the house seem like a blink of an eye and I supposed it would be for him. After five minutes of half jogging and slight stumbling, I made it back to my car. I didn't use the automatic unlock on my keychain and slid inside as quickly as I could. I sucked my teeth when my engine started and pulled out as quickly as I could.

But not before seeing Caroline in my rearview.

It was getting easier, I noticed, to keep things from them. Really when I thought about it, it didn't require much to do so. Keep a blank face and a closed mouth and you'd be surprised what you can keep to yourself. I didn't like lying to or withholding anything from them, but a part of me was kind of…excited? To have a secret that they didn't know about. My entire friendship with them had been completely transparent on my end. I'd always been the last to know on theirs.

As soon as I got home, I ran upstairs and closed myself in my room. I pulled the spell book out of my bag and sat on my bed, flipping through its pages. Damon had warned me against reading anything aloud and I'd listen to him. It seemed like lately these days he had more insight on my magic then I did, and he wasn't trying to bend it towards his own gain. Did I trust him completely? No. However, I didn't want to try that fire spell again and set my bed on fire.

The more I read in the book, the more I realized how right about my magic Damon was. The book wasn't just a book of spells, but also a guide on how to become more powerful in one's magic. It would show me the proper ways to cast a spell, which spells worked verbally and mentally, and which spells worked better in combination with potions. There was even a smaller potions list in the back, though not completely fleshed out. I took my hair down and changed my clothes, hardly taking my eyes off the book. I read each of the spells carefully, making a mental note of my favorite ones. There was a shape shifting charm that would allow me to change any part of my body any way I wanted as long as I could concentrate. There was a spell to freeze time with under the same condition.

There was a spell to raise the dead.

A knock on my door snapped me out of it. I put the book down and came face to face with my father.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I came home and the house was completely quiet." He looked around my room.

"Checking for boys, daddy?" I teased.

"I didn't think I had to with you." He gave me a stern look.

"You don't."

"Good to know." He smiled. "Takeout downstairs, I can't eat it all alone."

Downstairs my dad talked to me more about work. It was always interesting to hear the things his job threw at him and watching how animated he got whenever he talked about it. He told me that he'd be gone for a week next week to Washington, just to get some documents and business transactions handled for Mystic Falls, but he wouldn't be any longer than that. He didn't like me being home alone.

I brought the chopsticks to my lips and met his eyes. "You know I can take care of myself right?"

He shook his head. "I'd feel better if you stayed at the Gilbert house. Sheriff Forbes' s house would be ideal."

Staying with either of them meant more trouble than he knew. "Dad, we've talked about this."

He held up a hand. "I know, I know. You're a…a…"

"Witch." I helped him.

"Right." He continued. "But you know I don't trust that."

It was true. My dad didn't trust witchcraft as far as he could throw it mainly because it'd ruined a lot of his life. He'd met my mother when she was seventeen, around the time she'd come into her powers, and he always told me there was something about her he couldn't put his finger on. By the time he did find out what was so mysterious about Abby Bennett, I'd already been born and she was on her way out. I'd tried to show him some of the things I could do with my magic, but lighting a candle and making feathers float really freaked him out. We didn't really go into it a whole lot, but this was closer than we'd ever been to it.

"You can trust me." I told him. "I'm getting better with it."

He nodded. "I don't doubt that, but I'm still your dad. I need to at least feel like you're somewhere safe and out of harm's way. An empty house doesn't give me that."

I wanted to tell him that the house was empty most of the time I came home, but I let the argument go. He wasn't asking for much and I'd have probably ended up over one of my friend's houses anyway. The only downside to the whole thing was that for a second, I'd really been ecstatic about having time to myself. I'd gone from being lonely without my father to being self sufficient in my relationship with him, and I really didn't want to sleep where vampires had access. The Gilbert house may as well have been a supernatural pit stop in Mystic Falls.

Caroline's house was pretty ideal. No vampires were allowed in, but Tyler was still very sired to Klaus and I didn't know if I liked the idea of that either. Plus, knowing Caroline, the second she found out my father was gone she'd try to spend all her time at my place. Vampire or not, an empty house was still party central.

I could always come back after he was gone.

Yep, that was the plan.

A week to myself would do me some good. I could finally clear my head and have a moment without worrying about my father's safety. I could break out grams old chest and cook up weird things in the kitchen like I wanted. I could practice spells inside the house and emerge a better witch. Maybe I could have a Matilda moment and just make random shit float around the house.

I giggled at the thought.

My dad shook his head. "Nope, you aren't staying home. Pick a place."

The next day went pretty much how I figured it would. Met Matt outside and hung with him for a little bit. Apparently he'd gotten drunk and did some very questionable things with the girl who sat across from him in Brit Lit and was having a hard time deciphering how to feel about it.

"Are you itching?" I asked.

"No." he replied.

"Burning?"

"No."

"Then maybe you just had a normal hook up." I crossed my legs and smiled.

"Well I figured that." He said. "She was the first girl I'd done anything with since Elena. I told myself the next time I did something it'd be meaningful."

I shrugged. "Drunk and meaningful don't go together."

"Drunk and anything don't go together." Matt mumbled.

"No, no, dancing is fine. They're a pretty good match."

"Maybe for you. You're good at it. Elena flings her hair and Caroline humps everything. I kind of just sway."

"See, drunk and swaying works for you. Next time you're drunk just sway away the horny. It might work."

"Swaying," Matt said. "The cure for the Donovan Hard On."

"Only works when you're by yourself though. You can't sway with anyone." I wagged my finger.

"This sounds a lot like masturbation." Matt's brow furrowed.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Caroline asked.

Elena and Caroline were together and I could see Stefan heading inside. My guess is that they'd seen me and decided another "friendtervention", as Caroline called them, was in order. I gave Matt a look and he gave the barest of nods. He wasn't leaving this time.

"Oh, you know," Matt said. "Bonnie's teaching me the art of keeping my pants on when I'm drunk."

"I didn't know your pants were coming off." Elena commented.

Matt shrugged. "Strangely enough, I didn't either."

We laughed.

Except Caroline. The blonde on a mission. "Why were you at the Salvatore's?"

"Aren't you always at the Salvatore's?" Matt asked. "It's like The Max for you three."

"A Saved by The Bell reference?" I smiled at Matt.

"It was on when I woke up this morning. I won't be judged."

Caroline folded her arms. "Zach, Lisa, focus."

"Please tell me Elena's Kelly." Matt pretended like he was praying.

Elena tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Totally."

"Does that make you Jessie?" Matt asked Caroline.

"With the bad perm and the vapid wardrobe? Hardly."

"Is Stefan Slater?" I asked.

"Tyler." Matt and Elena said at the same time.

"Bonnie, seriously." Caroline killed the fun. "You sped away when you saw me outside. You were there with Damon, is something going on?"

Matt gave me a look. "You're hanging out with Psycho Salvatore?"

I almost defended him before I realized who I was talking to. "No, we're not hanging out. He went through some books and found an old Bennett diary. He told me to get the witch bullshit out of his house."

Caroline kept at it. "That doesn't explain why you sped off like that."

"I was already outside. By the time I saw you, I was already moving. I waited for you to text me or something, but you never did."

Speaking of text messages. I got one.

It was from Damon. Sweatpants. Tank. Sneakers. Woods.

Thankfully, the bell rang. I met Caroline's eyes head on as we all got up to go to class, and I separated with Matt when we entered the building.

"There's nothing really going on is there?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not even. It's just a Bennett diary, nothing major."

"And you're sure?"

"Matthew Donovan." I said in a perfect impression of our third grade teacher.

"Whoa, whoa, okay. Nothing going on. Gotcha." He held up his hands.

After school I stopped by my house and changed clothes. The drive to the woods brought back memories of the last time I'd met him here, but I pushed it out of my head. I knew what I wanted and I knew he could help me. I wasn't the girl afraid of herself anymore. I was a witch with a goal and a plan. I would go into this forest with the intent on kicking Damon's ass.

The thought made me smile.

When I walked down the trail, the first thing I noticed were his shoulders. I'd never seen Damon Salvatore in anything less than a t-shirt, but today he was all tank top and jeans. Black of course, because I doubted he wore much else. I could see the muscles flex under the paleness of his skin. His tank top rose a little and exposed the strip of skin about his belt.

"You coming down here anytime soon?" he called over his shoulder.

I walked down the path, spell book in hand, and stood a little behind him.

"Like what you've read so far?" he asked.

"Yes, actually." I replied. "The variety of spells is crazy. I've never seen anything like it."

He nodded, but he still hadn't turned around. "How many have you tried?"

"None. I didn't want to set any on fire."

"Good." He said. "We can do everything at once."

When he did turn around, he was the vampire. The fangs were extended, the eyes were dark, and the veins were crawling along his face. He licked his lips and smiled.

"Not even a flinch." He said. "There might be hope for you after all."

As he lunged for me and I flung myself out of his way, I remembered to concentrate. Concentration was key with Damon, because you never knew what he was going to do. I liked that he kept me on my toes and forced me to think. Too much planning went into enough of my life. It was time for me to let go and see what I could really do.

I used the tree to catch myself and swung my arm out. Damon went backwards, but when he turned it into a back handspring, I saw the pointlessness of it. He would anticipate and use the momentum of my magic to land gracefully. I could see it now. I'd try to send him flying and he'd actually end up flying. I had to try something.

I ran through the woods. One thing that my father always taught me was that running gave you time to think. Whether it was jogging or actually running away from something, the constant rhythm of your feet hitting the ground and your legs pumping gave you inspiration. I could hear Damon above, hopping from tree to tree and stalking me. He was a black shadow in my peripherals and a slight rustle of leaves in my ears. I reached out with my magic, only slightly, and felt him tear off a branch. My legs were the target, I gathered. He wanted to trip me.

I felt the branch coming at me before I actually saw it. I whipped around, only slightly, and thrust my arm backwards. The branch bounced off the barrier of my magic and went flying right back towards Damon, who had stopped to watch me in the trees. I didn't stop running.

He cocked his head as the branch blew by him. "You can't run forever, Bennett!"

Oh, but I could. Part of being on the Mystic Falls High Cheerleading squad meant I had more physical in my arsenal than Damon thought. I'd been a hell of a tumbler and could run back and forth the entire game if necessary. Maybe he thought I couldn't run, but I could definitely-

He landed right in front of me.

It was the first time I'd ever skidded to a stop and fell. I kicked at him, but he batted my leg aside like it was nothing. He wouldn't hurt me, he would not hurt me. I needed to think, to be calm, to focus. I had another idea.

"Can I-"

"No." he cut me off. "Don't ask me anything. Experiment, Bennett, find what works for you."

Damon tried another lunge, but this time, I was read for him. I swung my arm out and called out the fire spell. I visualized the fire arcing in the air in front of me and lashing out at him. I thought about the intensity of the heat and how it wouldn't burn me. I spoke the spell with my mind, body, and heart, willing it to happen.

And it did.

The fire that burst through my hand felt hot and furious as it spread upwards at Damon. He flipped backwards, staring at me in shock and, was that approval? He winked at me as he landed squatting in a tree and smirked when he got back up there.

I was so tired of him being in a damn tree.

I stared at him and jerked my head sideways, sending him from the tree. He managed a graceful landing, but ended up moving again as I called another spell out at him. Sweat formed on my brow as I called my magic to my fingertips and tried almost everything I'd read in that book. Damon began yelling at me to move my arms more, to stop being so rigid. I moved my arms with each spell and watched the effects of my spell increase.

Damon began to move quicker as my magic picked up. What he didn't know was that I was focusing on his core. The magic inside of him that kept him alive was something that was almost palpable. I played with him, throwing small amounts of magic his way, while the big finale waited for him. I saw him shake his head as he got closer and closer to me, flipping agilely and avoiding the spells I tossed at him.

He was getting closer and I was getting more prepared. He swiped at my head and I avoided him each time. I swung my own magic as he swung his fists, and we continued the dance of ducking and dodging. He advanced on me and I backed up, holding my ground. It seemed that the more I latched onto the magic inside of him, the more I kept up with him. We were moving so fast now; everything around us was a blur. He stepped forward, I stepped backwards. He went left, I went right.

That is, until he went for my legs.

I wanted to jump, I did, but I don't know why I didn't. I fell backwards, but not before pulling one last trick of my own. I squeezed on the magic inside of Damon and brought him down with me. I hit the ground hard, but I didn't give up my fight. Damon on the other hand thought I should.

"Bennett!" he called my name, but I barely heard him.

It was like my magic had found a purpose. The magic inside of Damon was cool and sharp, and the sensation reminded me of autum chill. I focused on it, gritting my teeth and really feeling it for what it was. It was the very essence of his being, the thing that replaced his soul. It was like…like I could see the thing keeping him tethered to this life. I was seeing, magically, into his immortality.

Damon grabbed both of my wrists in one hand and pinned them over my head. His other hand went around my throat so tight it snapped me right out of my trance. Magic buzzed through my body as I came back to the world around me, and I blinked furiously as my eyes settled on the angry vampire on top of me. Damon's fangs were still sharp and ready, his eyes as black as the night. He was breathing heavy although I didn't think he needed to, and his shoulders shook.

And then he was normal again.

His face smoothed back to its usual self and it was only then that I realized what Damon Salvatore really looked like. His cheeks were tinged red from his anger, his lips were pinker than usual. His eyes swam with blue and roamed over my heaving torso. His hand loosened on my throat as he came closer to me, leaning ever so slowly into something that was way out of left field.

"If you ever do that to me again," he whispered. "I'll kill you."

There was the sound of the wind shifting, and Damon was gone. I sat up and clutched my throat, rubbing it and looking around, dazed. There was no sign of him anywhere and when I scanned the trees with my magic, he wasn't there either. I shakily got to my feet and turned around slowly. I, Bonnie Bennett, had learned something new about my powers. I, Bonnie Bennett, had explored something new and spontaneous that brought about results I could've never imagined.

And unfortunately for me, I'd just pissed off the one person that could help me.

A/N: Sooo what did you guys think? I'll explain a few things. I'm pretty sure we all wonder what makes a vampire. While many of us have our own theories (Demons etc) mine is a little more mystical. I believe that since magic is what made them, Magic is what animates them. Makes sense right? Really, what is Siring or being a maker (if you're a trubie) other than blood transference which is a form of magic. At least in my head. Our little witch is getting stronger, but in this chapter she's a little too strong for our vampire. I know some of you might have a problem or two with the power inconsistency, but I like to think of her magic as having good days and bad. Bonnie isn't going to master everything, but she isn't going to be a complete wimp either. She has a book, the will, and maybe (maybe not) Damon. She's headed in the right direction, trust me. A lot of the magical things (mainly the ending) in this chapter will be explained in the next chapter. Oh, btw, did our fav couple get a little closer and a little up close this chapter? I feel a kiss scene coming soon. And I'm excited as shit about it. Read, Review, flip me off, your choice!