CASTLE OF THE ROSE

CHAPTER SEVEN | AND

The sky darkened as Logan sat in Elijah's car and waited for him to return. After an hour of waiting, sitting perched on the edge of the passenger's seat and eating the sandwich Elijah had bought her, Logan gave up and stood. She spent another good hour pacing around the median; then she ventured to a couple of clothing stores along the same street, in view of the car.

When Logan exited a store and saw that the sun was setting, she walked back up the sidewalk and crossed the street to the double-sided parking lot. She found the car exactly as she'd left it. Logan sighed to herself and swung open the passenger's side door; then she climbed inside and closed the door.

Logan leaned back and stared up at the ceiling of the car. She wished she at least had an iPod. She would have even accepted a Gameboy at this point. She sucked at video games and she didn't exactly find them thrilling, but she was beginning to feel truly desperate. The only things she could do in the car was go through Elijah's things, which Logan did not feel inclined to do, or sleep.

Or, Logan realized, use a map. Logan twisted around and dug a folded-up map out of the pocket on the back of the driver's seat. She sat back in the passenger's seat and opened the map, flattening out the creases as she did. She started trying to find important locations in Virginia, and then decided to figure out how long it would take to go to different cities in different states.

Another hour found Logan squinting at the map in an attempt to see. This was in vain and she knew it. Logan stifled a sigh and started to fold the map again.

Just as Logan jammed it back into the pocket of the seat, the driver's side door opened. Logan squeaked and jumped, startled; she almost fell off the console, which she had been leaning on with one hand to reach the pocket. "Excuse you," said Logan, as she moved back to flop into the passenger's seat. She pushed her hand through her hair and tried to calm her racing heart.

"I apologize," said Elijah. The little half smirk said that he wasn't very sorry. He pulled his door shut and reached for his seatbelt. "My business is finished here; our next stop is Mystic Falls."

"Good," said Logan with great feeling. She buckled her seatbelt as Elijah turned on the car. "Out of curiosity—and I know I'm probably not allowed to know this—what are you going to do with me when we get there? Because I'd really prefer not to have me or Elena dead…"

Elijah cast her a semi-amused look as he twisted around to look out the back windshield. He seemed to judge it safe because he started to back out of the parking spot. "We'll see," was all Elijah said. This was not comforting, but Logan decided it was probably best to let it go.

The two drove for roughly twenty minutes in silence before Logan couldn't stand it anymore. She was sick of staring out the windshield at the dark shapes flashing by. "Do you ever listen to music?" Logan demanded.

"Sometimes," said Elijah. He sounded faintly amused.

Logan was glad her general irritation and impatience was so funny to him. She leaned forward and turned the radio on rather violently. Then she stayed forward, hand hovering over the dashboard as she waited to hear what Elijah listened to. It shouldn't have been a surprise to find it was NPR.

She was tempted to ask him if he was secretly an elderly man, but Logan already knew he really was. He had to be thousands of years old. "We are not doing this today," Logan said. She pushed a couple of buttons before she figured out how to change stations. "How do you feel about rock?"

"I like it more than pop."

Logan didn't know how much he liked pop, so this was not very helpful. She tried again: "What about rap?"

"Absolutely not."

Logan snickered and changed the station again. "Country?"

"I prefer rap."

"Opera?"

"Only Italian."

Logan had no clue how to satisfy this guy. Would he rather listen to Logan talk than music? What did he have against it, anyway? It struck Logan that Elijah probably didn't watch TV, either, and likely had no favorite movie. "I hope you have a favorite color," said Logan, as she left the station on a classical one.

Elijah glanced at her. "Why?"

Logan raised her eyebrows at him. "So you can regain some semblance of normality," she said dryly, leaning back in the passenger's seat again. "I'm willing to bet good money that you don't like TV or movies either." Logan paused. "I bet all you do is read."

"Perhaps," said Elijah. To Logan's surprise, he sounded as though he was actually enjoying himself. "I don't mind documentaries, or accurate period dramas." So Downtown Abbey, probably, thought Logan. This was the only one she knew. "I don't have a favorite film; I'm not particularly fond of any."

"So you read," Logan concluded.

"And travel," said Elijah. "I like museums and art."

Logan opened her mouth to quip that he was a work of art himself and, due to this and his age, probably should have been in a museum; she quickly cut herself off before she could shoot herself in the foot. She closed her mouth and hesitated before asking, "Is that a no on the favorite color?"

Elijah shrugged. "I'm partial to blue."

Finally, thought Logan. She glanced down and realized she was wearing a blue dress. Hah. "Blue is a nice color," Logan agreed. "My personal favorite is purple."

"The color of royalty," said Elijah. Logan wondered what the hell he was finding so amusing. "Do you read?"

Logan shook her head. "Not really," she said. "I mean, I kind of like stupid contemporary novels about high school, but that's basically it." There was no way she'd admit to liking paranormal romance right now. "My friends make fun of me for liking word searches and crossword puzzles. I listen to music a lot. And I like museums, too."

Elijah made a 'hmph' kind of sound in the back of his throat. "How do you have the friends that you do?" Elijah asked, as he changed lanes on the highway. "If they keep important information from you and mock what you like?"

Logan thought about it. "I don't know," she said, looking down to fidget with the end of her dress. "We've known each other since we were five. I guess we just kind of happened." She felt uncomfortable to leave the subject like that, so she added, "And they do have redeeming qualities. They're funny and loyal and protective, and I can tell them anything."

Elijah nodded. "I see," he said.

There was a stretch of quiet then, during which Logan listened to the radio and tried to mentally identify the artists before the DJ did. When a commercial break interrupted, Logan switched to a rock station she knew; for the majority of the drive she hopped around between classical and rock stations.

Logan started to think that she recognized some of the places they passed. She prayed to God that Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie had been able to cook up a fabulous lie they could give to her mother. "We're almost there," said Elijah, when one song ended and the DJ started to talk about some contest. "I'd like if you could answer a few questions."

This was interesting. "Sure," said Logan, turning back toward Elijah. She propped her elbow up on the windowsill and rested her head against her fist to look at him. She did like talking with him—it was an excuse to stare at him without being too obvious about it.

"When we met," said Elijah, refusing to take his eyes off the road, "what did you feel?"

Logan tried not to laugh. Was he working up to asking her out or something? Once she shoved that thought out of her head she considered. "Um," she said, "I don't know. Like I just figured out a really hard clue in a crossword, I guess." She was not going to tell him about the fairytale thing.

"Like something clicked into place?" asked Elijah.

"Yeah," said Logan, as it dawned on her. "Yeah, like a puzzle piece."

"Hm," was all Elijah said. Logan was a little freaked out now—was that supposed to be what love at first sight felt like? From the various Lifetime and Hallmark movies she'd watched with Caroline she was fairly certain this description did not fit. If she and Elijah had had love at first sight, they probably would have kissed by now, or at least properly flirted.

Weird. "Do you believe in fate, Logan?" asked Elijah, as he started to take the exit ramp for Mystic Falls.

Logan frowned. "Not exactly," she said. "I'm Catholic. I think everything happens for a reason, and God knows everything that will happen, but we make our own decisions." This conversation was just getting weirder and weirder—did Elijah think they were star-crossed lovers or something?

"Interesting," murmured Elijah. They slowed down for a stoplight.

Logan studied him for a second. Then she said, because she couldn't take it anymore, "If you're trying to ask me out, just ask."

Elijah let out a startled laugh. "I'm not trying to ask you out," he said somewhat affectionately. "I'm just—curious about something."

Logan threw her hands in the air. "Gee, it would've been annoying if you were super vague and cryptic."

"I'm sorry," said Elijah, glancing toward Logan. His lip twitched, which meant he was tempted to smile, and therefore was not very sorry at all. "If I discover anything that involves you, I will contact you."

"Wait," said Logan, as the light turned green and they started to move again. "So you're not keeping me hostage?"

"No, I am not," said Elijah.

Logan was surprised and confused by this. She turned to look out the window; the streets were empty, but she recognized landmarks like gas stations and strip malls. They were on the outskirts of Mystic Falls. "Why not?" Logan found herself asking.

Elijah moved over to the right lane and slowed, turning on the directional. "You're my gesture of goodwill."

Now it made sense. Elijah was releasing her in order to try and convince Elena to give herself up to him. Logan did like Elijah—and she admitted it—but she much preferred being able to go home to driving around on an endless road trip with the man. "Well," said Logan, only half joking, "it'll be hard for you to contact me without a phone number."

"I was going to ask you for it when we arrived."

Logan squinted out the passenger's side window. They had entered a neighborhood, it seemed, but the houses were massive and unfamiliar. "Uh, arrived where, exactly?"

Just then Elijah pulled up to the curb. He slowed to a halt and put the car in park. "The Salvatore Boarding House," he said. He reached inside his blazer and pulled out a black smartphone. "Phone number, please?"

Logan told him; then she reached out to unlock her door. She pushed it open and climbed out. Then she paused, one hand on the door, and leaned over. Elijah looked at her expectantly. "Thank you," Logan said.

"No, Logan," said Elijah. "Thank you."

Logan saluted him and stood back to slam the car door shut. When she had done this, she turned around to start crossing the massive grassy lawn. Logan only looked back when she reached the driveway—Elijah seemed to be waiting for her to get inside.

This struck her as sort of cute, and she rolled her eyes at herself as she resumed walking. She marched up the circular driveway and marveled at the sprawling affair that was the Salvatore home. Logan would have been in a state of further disbelief if she hadn't now known that the brothers were vampires, and had probably had ages to stockpile money.

Logan passed an unfamiliar black car in the drive. She peered inside as she passed it, but she didn't stop to consider. Instead she walked around it, and then up the few brick steps of the house. In a moment she had reached the front door, and Logan reached out to ring the doorbell. It was only after she had rung it that she realized she had no clue how late it was.

Logan folded her arms as she waited. The night air was cold and she was hungry and needed a bathroom. Plus, she was dying for a shower, and she'd been avoiding lifting her arms since this morning, because she needed to shave.

After a couple of minutes Logan rang the doorbell again. She put her hand on her hip and waited, watching the door. It wasn't much long after that she heard footsteps, and the door swung open inward. "We don't—" said Damon Salvatore.

Then he stared. "Logan?" He blinked, and then widened his eyes at her, as if he wasn't sure whether or not he was hallucinating. "What the hell are you doing here?" He craned his neck to look past her. "Elijah isn't waiting out there, is he?"

"Nope," said Logan, who hoped Elijah had already pulled away from the curb. "Now move, I have to pee."

With that said she pushed past Damon and marched into the house. Damon started to say something, but then stopped, and ended up kind of squeaking instead of speaking. "Did I just hear you—" Logan heard Stefan call from somewhere else in the house. He came jogging around a corner from the right; then he stopped short. "Oh, thank God," said Stefan upon sighting Logan. "You're still okay, right?"

"Yup," said Logan. She gave Stefan the peace sign. "Where's a bathroom?"

Stefan still looked amazed, but he turned and pointed. "Walk down that way, and take the door on the right in the kitchen," he said. Logan nodded at him and started to walk past him. As she did Stefan turned to watch her. "I can't believe he just let you go like that. He didn't make you sign some kind of contract, did he?"

"Does she drink vervain?" asked Damon, who had gotten over the shock of finding Logan on his doorstep and was now walking over to join Stefan.

"What the hell is vervain?" called Logan. She didn't stop walking.

Damon was apparently not amused, because a split second later he appeared in front of Logan. She stopped and jumped, startled. Then she folded her arms and gave him an unamused look. "Would you please move?" she asked.

Instead of complying, Damon leaned in and looked deeply into her eyes. Logan raised an eyebrow at him but didn't break the eye contact. "Tell me if Elijah compelled you," he said.

"He did last night to make me sleep, but that's it," said Logan at once.

"Hmph," said Damon, drawing back. He folded one arm and held his elbow, stroking his chin thoughtfully with his other hand. "This is weird. I don't like it."

Logan huffed in annoyance. "I'm his goodwill gesture," she snapped. "Can I please go to the bathroom?"

"Sure," said Damon slowly. He looked over Logan's shoulder and presumably met Stefan's eye before stepping to the side. Logan patted his nearest shoulder before resuming her march down the hallway.

The Salvatore house was incredible. Even though Logan was currently on a one-track mission, she did still catch glimpses of her surroundings: ornate silver, dark wood, and random, classy objects were scattered everywhere. There seemed to be plenty of portraits of old family members and equestrians as well.

The bathroom itself was rather large for a kitchen bathroom. Once Logan had used the bathroom, washed her hands, and made sure she didn't look as hellish as she felt, she walked back out into the hallway. "I'm sorry for barging in like this," she said as she did, because it had occurred to her that she should probably say this.

Damon was only a few feet away, a half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand. Stefan was closer. He looked grim and had his arms folded over a wifebeater. Logan spotted a circular tattoo on his shoulder. "It's fine," Stefan assured her. "Did Elijah say anything to you about a plan?"

"All I know is he wants to stop his crazy brother, who put all of the other Originals in comas and sent them out to sea," said Logan promptly. She clapped her hands together and then wiped them off on her dress out of habit. "I know nothing of actual use. Sorry."

Stefan nodded, lowering his eyes to the ground and tapping his lips in consideration. He swung around, dropping his hand again, to face Damon. "I'm going to bring her home," said Stefan, jerking a thumb in Logan's direction over his shoulder. "Keep an eye out."

"Will do," said Damon. He lifted the whiskey bottle toward Logan in some weird sort of toast before turning on his heel and wandering away—back toward a staircase Logan noticed, accessible from another small corridor. This house was like a castle.

She turned toward Stefan. "Come on," he said, giving her a small, polite smile.

You're a vampire, thought Logan; but the thought of a vicious blood-sucking creature, with the dark eyes and purplish veins that Rose had showed her, could not be reconciled with this friendly, polite version of Stefan. "Thanks," said Logan, forcing herself to walk after him. She walked alongside him back up the main hallway.

"Elena will be glad you're home," said Stefan as they turned together to enter the foyer.

Logan barely resisted rolling her eyes. "We'll see about that," she muttered. "Hey," she added as it occurred to her, "did you guys ever come up with anything to tell my mother?"

"Damon compelled her this afternoon," said Stefan as he swung open the front door. "He compelled your whole family, actually. Sorry about that." Logan wasn't sure how she felt about this. "They think you've been sick with a stomach bug since the night of the masquerade party, and you've just been holed up in your room."

Logan made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. "Make sure to thank Damon for me," she decided to say, as she and Stefan walked down the brick steps of the house.

"I will," said Stefan. He offered Logan another reassuring look, to which she politely nodded. Maybe she could understand, just a little, why Elena and the others hadn't told her about vampires. Living a life of blissful ignorance would have been far easier.

AUTHOR'S NOTE | Thank you for reading! :D I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! :)

DISCLAIMER | I don't own The Vampire Diaries.