Short Lemon Warning: midsection of the chapter.
Diamonds Are Forever
Virginia was the last place Damon planned on visiting for a long while. He'd made his random drop-ins to check on the boarder house, along with the Bennett family because of a promise he had made to Emily Bennett. Emily promised Damon that she would cast a spell to protect his beloved Katherine in exchange for protecting her lineage. The currant living relatives were Sheila, Abby, and the youngest, Bonnie. Admittedly, he had not checked on them since Bonnie was barely out of diapers.
Once he landed at Dulles International Airport after leaving Italy, Damon rented a car and made the drive to Mystic Falls. He avoided the main part of town, and drove the back roads to the Bennett home.
Standing on the porch of Sheila's home, Damon listened with his vampire hearing and quickly assessed only one heartbeat within the house. He knocked on the door, though no one answered. He knocked again and shouted that he wasn't going to leave until she agreed to talk with him.
The weather beaten door slowly opened just enough for Sheila to peer out at Damon. She had not removed the chain lock, and spoke through the small opening. "I know what and who you are."
Damon sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I know what and who you are, too."
"In that case," she snapped, "then you should know what I am capable of."
"I need a favor," Damon blurted without bothering with polite niceties. "And if you are half the witch Emily was, then it should be easy enough for you."
"I don't do favors for vampires," she hissed. "It only leads to unpaid debts and troubles with your kind."
Rather than let the witch rankle his nerves, Damon chose another approach. He plucked up a chair away from a small outdoor table setting, faced it towards the doorway and sat. "Now," he said while pointing to himself and continued. "I'm not going anywhere and I am sure you don't want a scene for your neighbors to gossip about. Besides, the favor isn't for me, exactly." Sheila raised a brow at the vampire and Damon went on to explain about the vampires he'd met in Italy, the leaders that called themselves kings, and how different they were from his kind. He also explained about Bella, and how she had to choose death or immortality, and that Damon volunteered because in his opinion, his kind of vampire was the lesser of the two evils.
"And what is it you want from me?" Sheila asked sounding slightly less disinterested.
Damon reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a small gift box. He sat it next to the threshold and stepped back unthreateningly. "I need a daylight ring. She needs to graduate and stop with the judgy glare, she is an adult and she made the choice of her own free will. Mind you, it was under duress, but not by me."
"Which brother are you?" she asked and he knew the answer could backfire on him.
"Does it matter?" he deflected her question, knowing she would likely not accept his ambiguity.
"The Ripper or the jackass?" she asked with a sly smirk.
Damon had to laugh, and wondered if he may have an in with this witch. "Not being the Ripper win me any brownie points?"
"So the jackass," she established. "I've read several things regarding your family."
"I'm sure," Damon quipped flatly. "Emily had me by the short hairs and I do not make promises lightly – rarely even – but I keep them if at all possible."
Sheila opened the small box and gave the ring a critical once-over. "Fine craftsmanship and expensive. She must be someone you've grown fond of."
"There no law saying function can't be fashionable," Damon defended his choice in rings. "She has to wear it a long time, and you know what the say – diamonds are forever."
After buying his airline ticket from Milan to Virginia, he had ten hours before his flight boarded and Damon went and browsed several jewelry shops while killing time. The third shop he entered, had a display case with chocolate diamond rings. One caught his eye right away and asked the sales assistant to pull it from the protective glass. It was an eternity ring, which seemed fitting, cast in platinum with several small brown diamonds in a grain setting. It was simple, understated, yet elegant. It was very Bella-like.
Before Bella had risen, Damon secretly removed a ring off her right hand middle finger. He had placed it in his wallet, knowing she would need a daylight ring if he were going to be the one responsible for her in the long term. At least the first year until she had good enough control and could go out on her own. He offered the jeweler and obscene amount of extra cash and Bella's ring so he could size the new one, all to have it finished before his flight.
"I'll come back before I have to leave for the airport," Damon informed the jeweler, which was very happy with his new commission. "Put it in a nice box."
Still having seven hours before he had to check-in through customs, he searched for a decent pub. After finding a not-so decent bar, he chose to suck it up because it was between the jewelers and the airport. "Scotch, on the rocks," Damon ordered after searching for a clean bar stool to sit on.
A gangly man with greasy, slicked back dark hair slid Damon's drink in front of him and mumbled a greeting. "Welcome to Eliseo's. My name is Alonzo. Two rules here, pay your tab and don't cause trouble."
"Keep my glass full, and it's all good," Damon replied dully. "Do I smell pizza?"
Alonzo rolled his eyes and muttered fucking tourist under his breath, assuming Damon didn't hear him. "It's Italy, isn't it?"
"This fucking tourist calls bullshit," Damon spat bitterly. "You have an American accent, douchebag."
Alonzo wasn't fazed by Damon's outburst. "I was born here in Milan, moved to the states when I was two, and recently came back to run my uncle's bar," he explained as though he'd repeated the tale several times over and was bored of it. "So do you want some pizza, or not?"
"Whatever you recommend," Damon said dismissively.
"Pippa," the barkeep barked rudely. "Bring a single order of today's special pie!"
Within a few minutes an olive-skinned, older woman came through the kitchen door wearing a white peasant blouse and a flowing skirt, carrying a plate with two slices of Lazio style pizza-pie. She sat the plate down and winked at Damon. He eyed her from head to toe and decided she was attractive for a woman likely near forty. A few gray hairs blended in with her brown-black hair, which was long and braided. She had startling green eyes that shone brightly even in the dim bar. Her skin looked healthy with a few laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. "Thanks, beautiful," Damon said charmingly.
"Careful, tourist," Alonzo warned. "That one may be a damn good cook, but she's a man-eater and would take a young guy like you to task."
"I think I can handle myself," Damon said with a smirk and winked at Pippa who licked her lips suggestively. "First, I want to eat this amazing pie, and maybe another drink."
"And then after that?" Pippa whispered coquettishly.
Damon waggled his brow provocatively. "Depends whether this pizza is all that and a bag of chips."
"You want chips?" Alonzo asked dumbly.
"Good grief, dude," Damon said disbelievingly. "Get a clue."
Alonzo huffed and went back to stocking the bar while Damon ate both slices of pizza and tossed back two more glasses of scotch. He threw some crumpled cash on the bar and walked into the mens-room to wash up. As he was drying his hands, the bathroom door opened quietly and Damon heard the bolt sliding into place, locking the door. "Wondered if you'd follow me in here," Damon said after picking up her scent. "Sleazy place for a clandestine tryst, dirty girl."
Pippa laughed seductively, walked up behind Damon, and pressed her body flush with his back. "You have no idea how dirty," she whispered in his ear.
Damon whirled around faster than any human should be able too, causing her to sway dizzily. He reached behind her, grabbed her firm backside with both hands, and roughly pressed his fingertips into her flesh and lifted her up. "Show me," he ordered.
Strong legs wrapped around Damon's waist and he briefly noted she must work out, a lot. She was strong for a little human woman. He reached between them and stroked the thin cotton of her panties. "Been anticipating this, have you?" he growled in her ear. She was already damp, her musky arousal filled the air in the small bathroom.
An expert hand wriggled between them, and Pippa had Damon's belt and button fly opened impressively fast. He slipped his hand underneath her cotton panties and ripped them away. "You are so eager," he hissed. "I'm going to fuck you, and then I'm going to bite that tasty neck of yours."
"Gods, yes!" she said breathily, begging, and already panting with excitement.
Spinning her around, Damon slammed the cook's back to the wall and with a punishing roughness; he entered her, filling her completely. He set a grueling pace, though she cried for more. Using some of his vampire speed and strength, his thrusts increased. This woman had no damn limits! He almost felt sorry for human males brave enough to have sex with this woman.
"More—more—more!" she cried out while trying to claw at his leather jacket.
He could feel the muscles in her heated core start to contract and Damon ran his tongue over her rapid pulse and lengthened his fangs. He sunk into the soft flesh slowly as her orgasm started to pique and drank her life's blood while she came apart around him, forcing his own release while swallowing the sweet nectar from the open vein of her neck. He sealed the wounds quickly and thrust into a few more times before withdrawing from her body…
"Mr. Salvatore!" Sheila called out his name sharply. Damon blinked and looked directly at the woman. "I was trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. Where were you?"
Damon shook his head. "No place you want to hear about," he admitted hastily, and brought the subject back to why he was here. "So, about that daylight ring?"
"Tell me more about this new vampire you created," the witch said, more like insisted.
Not sure what all he could offer, he started with what he knew for sure. "She's ridiculously selfless, a bit of a martyr, willing to give her own life for those she cares about, and her self-worth is horrible," Damon offered some of his own insight into the girl. "Although, she is funny without trying, and stupidly brave. I think she's unusually observant and intelligent, too. Honestly, I haven't known her for very long."
Damon also elaborated on how he met Bella, and all the events that led up to him, offering to be the one to turn her. Sheila looked very thoughtful as he finished his account of the mayhem in Italy.
"How soon do you need it? I have Emily's spell, though I've never performed it before."
"As soon as possible," Damon confessed. "She's holed up in the other vampire's house right now, and her father is likely going to file a missing person's report soon."
"By morning, then," she agreed and closed the box holding the ring. "Then I have your word that you are not planning on staying in Mystic Falls?"
"No plans, though I can't agree to forever," Damon said honestly.
"For now," she accepted his word. "See you in the morning."
Shelia closed the door and Damon went back to his rental car. He decided on going to the boarding house and stalk from a distance. He parked the car, hidden in the woods and watched the house that he'd not lived in for decades. By now, most of the humans that were alive when he last resided in Mystic Falls would all be dead or very old and memories of the Salvatore brothers died with them.
Quiet contemplation took over as he looked unseeingly out the driver side window. Sheila jolted him out of his disturbed memories before leaving Milan. The woman in the bar, the seedy hookup in the men's room, and the punishing sex he abused her body with; it all had him reeling.
Why had he been so pissed off? What about the sordid little tryst, torqued his insides after pulling out of the eager woman's body? Damon compelled her to believe it was the best fifteen minutes of her life, pushed her out of the bathroom and washed any evidence of her off his body. Bella flitted through his mind, briefly, and he pushed it away, not willing to analyze why her name popped into his head, or those doe-like eyes of hers staring into his.
Day turned into night while his thoughts consumed him over Bella. He wanted to be the one to change her, though, were his intentions altruistic or was it his lack of trust for Aro that drove his need to be the one? Within the Volturi, he and Demetri became friends over the past decade, and friends were not something that came easily to Damon. Caius, he also considered a friend, sort of, but he knew where Caius's loyalties would lie in the end if it came down to Aro's demands and desires.
Damon fell into a troubled, uncomfortable sleep and disturbing dreams haunted him; Bella held captive by Aro – her starving body locked in a Volturi dungeon – desiccation setting in while those chocolate brown eyes dulled and became lifeless. Her cheeks stained of dirty, dried tears – her nails ripped from the beds of her fingers as she struggled with her newborn thirst and fear. Before he woke from the nightmare, the last thing he witnessed was Bella's vampire blood being drained so that Aro could create his own brand-new vampires of his kind, and he had no way of getting to her.
When Damon woke, the eastern angle of the sunrise intensified through the windshield of his rental car. He slept so poorly, the sleepy miasma shrouded his mind until there was a tap at the passenger side window. Damon snapped his gaze sharply, and a shock ran through his body once he realized who was standing outside the car.
"Demetri," Damon spoke cautiously and popped the automatic locks.
The tracker gracefully sat in the passenger seat, pulled the hood of his cloak down and frowned. "Why are you just sitting here? You've been here all night."
"Not my first choice for accommodations, but I'm on a tight schedule," Damon offered tiredly. "Why are you here, Demetri?"
Demetri frowned again, and sighed heavily. "Not like I had a choice in the matter," he admitted regretfully. "Jane, Felix, and Caius are here, as well."
"For fuck's sake," Damon spat angrily. "Has that psycho king of yours, nothing better to do?"
Demetri raised a brow bemused. "No?"
"Are you asking me, or telling me, no?" Damon said between clenched teeth. "I'm not making baby vamps for King, crazy-pants."
"Good," Demetri quickly agreed. "But there is a matter of Aro wanting you dragged back to Volterra – dead or alive."
Damon snorted and reached for the key and started the engine. "I have to be somewhere, and if you're coming along, shut the door."
"Where to?" Demetri asked, not really sounding very interested. He shut the car door and relaxed back into his seat. "I'm not bringing you back. Caius doesn't want to, either, though I can't say the same for Jane.
"Tough-tits for Jane, because I'm not going unless you all kill me," Damon replied with forced indifference. "Good luck with that, either way. I'm going to see a witch about a daylight ring. She promised to have it done this morning. Then, I'm flying to Washington. I fear the Cullens has their hands full with Bella."
"I wonder if she can make rings so that my kind don't sparkle," Demetri mused aloud and chuckled.
"No idea," Damon muttered. "You can't go with me, so you'll have to stay in the car. Witches are twitchy around our kind. At least, my kind, because I'm guessing they don't know about you."
"You didn't tell her anything about us?" Demetri asked curiously.
"A little," Damon admitted. "I had to pull a few sympathy cards for my newbie charge."
The two men rode in silence until Damon parked the car down the street from Sheila's house. He turned to Demetri. "The house is a block that way," he said and pointed. "I won't risk her sensing you, if she is able. I'll leave the keys in the ignition, just in case."
Demetri nodded, pulled his hood back up and rolled his window down a few inches.
While walking to the witch's house, Damon scanned the area wondering where the other Volturi was hiding out. He found nothing amiss and crossed Sheila's yard and leapt up onto her front porch. She opened the door before he had a chance to knock.
"The ring is finished," she said and held the small gift box in her hand. "I want something from you before I hand it over."
Always a catch," Damon murmured. "What do you want?"
She looked at him speculatively and crossed her arms over her chest. "I want to meet one of the other vampires."
"Why?" Damon asked, unsure why she'd risk exposing herself.
"I want to know about them so I can journal it for future witches, and for my granddaughter."
"They don't need to be invited in," Damon warned her.
"I can protect myself," she said confidently. Damon knew the power of the Bennett bloodline and had little doubt that she could.
"You happen to be in luck," Damon informed her and turned his head towards his parked car. "Demetri. Drive the car a block down and pull into the driveway at the house I'm standing in front of. The witch wants to meet you, and no funny business."
"He can hear you?" Sheila inquired incredulously.
"Easily," Damon said offhandedly while watching for the rental car. Demetri drove the car slowly, and a little unsteadily. When he turned into the drive, Demetri parked the car haphazardly.
"Have you ever driven a car?" Damon asked with amusement.
Demetri hissed. "I've never needed to."
Damon chuckled while Demetri met him on the porch. "Demetri, this is Sheila Bennett from a very powerful line of witches. I knew one of her ancestors back in the eighteen hundreds."
"A pleasure," Demetri offered and bowed his head. He started to offer his hand, but Sheila stepped back away from his reach.
"She doesn't trust us," Damon informed the tracker. "Rightfully so, with most our kind."
"I realize you do not wish me to enter your home, ma'am, but I can't be exposed out here and this part of the country is very sunny."
"Meet me around back," she instructed. "I have a screened in patio with blinds."
The two men made their way around the house and into the three-season patio. Damon didn't have to be invited because it was separate from the house's foundation. All three sat around a large picnic table and Sheila assaulted Demetri with an onslaught of questions. To the tracker's credit, he answered what he could honestly and when Damon asked about all the Cold Ones secret rules, Demetri decided Sheila was just as much a part of the supernatural world as they were.
They also informed Sheila that Aro sent Demetri to find Damon and bring him back to Volterra. "So, this Aro doesn't care if Mr. Salvatore is dead or not?" Sheila asked the tracker.
"No," Demetri answered honestly. "His ego is wounded, though I am sure Aro would love to kill Damon, himself, I suspect he knows Damon won't leave without a fight."
She hummed thoughtfully. "I can help, but…" Sheila looked to Damon, a fierce challenge in her eyes. "You would owe me a favor in return should the need arise."
"Why only me?" Damon whined slightly and pointed at the tracker. "He's the one that is under orders."
"Yes," she drawled haughtily. "I doubt he'd stop coming after you, should Demetri fail."
"You got me there," Damon said, resigned to owing the Bennett witch a favor.
Sheila smiled triumphantly. "Then you agree to my terms?"
"Do I have a choice?" Damon asked rhetorically.
Sheila grabbed a piece of paper, jotted down a name and address, and then handed it to Damon. "Go to the morgue and tell him I sent you. Also, tell him 'protection of the elements', and show him this," she instructed and handed Damon a small wooden medallion with a quarter moon, sun, water, fire and air signs etched on both sides. "He will know it's from me. Tell him I need a male head."
Demetri's eyes opened wide. "A head?" he asked lamely. "I can't take Aro a random head."
"It is nothing more than a glamour spell. It will only last a few weeks," she informed the two men," so you had better dispose of it before it no longer looks like Mr. Salvatore."
"That," Demetri drawled in awe, "is freaking amazing!"
"Language," Sheila tutted with displeasure. "No need for that young man."
Demetri sniggered. "I have been around since 1000 AD. Young man doesn't quite fit."
"Don't sass me, young man," Sheila scolded while placing her hand on her hip. "You barely look old enough to be an adult - so far as I'm concerned, until you have wrinkles and gray hair, you're a young man."
Demetri chuckled and held up his hands in surrender. "My apologies, Ms. Bennett."
"The thought of my look-alike head on a silver platter is all fun and giggles," Damon said with a mock shudder. "I have a flight to catch soon, so I'll go meet with the Doctor of spare parts, and you stay here and keep your sparkly a—butt well hidden."
"Nice save," Demetri said with a smirk and turned to Sheila. "If you approve of the plan, Ms. Bennett?"
"It's fine as long as you mind your manners," Sheila said with a grin. "And show me this sparkling thing."
"Very pretty," Damon teased. "Wear sunglasses."
Demetri growled, but Damon slipped out the door and blurred into the car.
The drive to the morgue in the next city and back had taken a good three hours. Damon returned and pulled a cooler from the trunk of the car and covered it with his jacket before carrying it to the patio. Sheila and Demetri were playing checkers. "I get the grunt work while you sit and play games," Damon said and sat the cooler chest on the floor. "Anyone order one freshly decapitate head?"
"I have to carry that thing all the way back to Italy," Demetri countered. "You had the easy part."
"True," Damon agreed with a grin. "Are you going to fill Caius in on our little scheme?"
"It won't leave the three of us," Demetri vowed firmly. "I trust Caius to a point, but it is too risky."
"Agreed," Damon said with a sharp nod.
"All right, boys," Sheila interrupted. "Let's get this show on the road and get you two away from my home before the neighbors start poking their noses in my business."
The spell required several ingredients and the Bennett witch chanted in an old language until the spell took effect. Damon looked down at the severed head that now bore his likeness and shuddered. "That is disturbing."
Better than dead," Demetri offered slyly.
"Point taken," Damon agreed, and watched the tracker pack the head back into the cooler.
"All right, you two," Sheila said as she shooed them with her hands. "Get on outta here, and Damon," she looked at him very seriously. "Remember, if I am ever in need to call on that favor…"
Damon agreed to honor his oath to the witch, said his goodbyes to Demetri. Before he walked away, Demetri asked Sheila a question. "Are you able to remove false bindings?"
"I need more than that to go on," she admitted. "What sort of bindings?"
Demetri explained Chelsea's gift, and that he knew she tried to tie Damon to Aro, but for some reason it didn't work on the other vampire. Sheila furrowed her brow. "I don't know Demetri. I have never heard of such a thing. From what I can tell, your gifts are not witchcraft, but something you are born with, and it becomes more powerful when you are turned into an immortal. I'm just making a guess, though."
Demetri actually looked a little deflated and thanked Sheila. Both vampires left her home and drove off together. Damon broke the silence and asked, "Where do you want dropped off?"
"Nowhere you can be detected. They are waiting at an inn in the next town south of here."
"Drive with me to the airport, take my rental car," Damon offered as a plan. "And please return it so it's not reported stolen. Just tell them we fought, you won, and you made off with my car."
"That should work. It will also explain why the car is heavy with your scent."
"Damon snorted and shook his head. "Blame it on the pretty head, chilling in the cooler."
Damon and Demetri parted at Dulles International Airport. Damon sat in the first-class lounge waiting for the announcement of boarding times, when his cell phone started to vibrate. He pulled it out of his inside pocket and answered.
"Bella is losing it. She just impaled Emmett with one of my stilettos!"
"Can you even be impaled by a shoe, Alice?" Damon asked, disbelieving.
"No, we can't," Jasper answered after taking the phone away from his wife. "Though, baby-vamp is cranky as all get-out."
Just then, the airlines announced all first-class passengers it was time to board. "I'll be there by morning. Get her drunk or something and make sure she's not thirsty."
"Emmett heard you, he's on his way to the liquor store," Jasper said with a sigh. "Can vampires become alcoholics?"
Damon laughed as he hefted his carry-on bag. "No. We have one addiction, and it is the same as yours. See you soon."
Once he settled in first-class, the first thing Damon did was order a double bourbon. It was going to be a long flight.
