A/N: I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so SORRY! I know it's been forever since I updated. I left the disc's at a friends house. Anyway, REVIEW and tell me what you think and what you want to see.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries. Only Cassandra Anne Miller.

"What can I get you, gorgeous?" the bartender asked, throwing a wink my way.

"Jack and coke for me," I told him, resting my chin in my hand and smirking back at him. "And a whiskey for my friend here."

"You got it," he grinned, moving over to the counter and spinning a bottle expertly in his hand. I watched him carefully, appreciating the way his biceps moved in his T-shirt.

"You know you don't have to flirt with every guy you see, you know," Damon said, blue eyes on the young man in question.

"I don't," I replied, grimacing at him before turning my gaze back to the bartender. "Just the hot ones."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he smiled. I rolled my eyes and hit him upside the head roughly. He grunted but otherwise didn't react, merely taking the glass passed to him by the man behind the counter and taking a large sip.

"I'll be right back," I told him, spying a nervous looking young man loitering by the end of the bar.

"Going for a bite?" he asked, eyes flickering to the guy I was watching.

"Maybe more," I admitted, slipping my red leather jacket on over my Gun 'n' Roses top and picking up the glass before me, downing it in one mouthful. "Don't wait up."

"Never do."

I slowly made my way over to the man, fluffing my hair as I went. He was shifting from foot to foot, checking his watch every few moments. He had all the signs of somebody who had been stood up; the perfect target. "Can I buy you a drink?" I asked boldly, sliding up beside him and resting my arms on the bar to push my cleavage up, smiling charmingly.

He started, my sudden appearance shocking him. His heartbeat quickened at the sight of me as he took me in in all of my 5"8' glory. "H-how do you know I'm not waiting for somebody?" he asked in a rasped voice, pushing his glasses back up on his nose with his forefinger.

"You wanna know how I know?" I asked quietly, leaning in closer as though I was about to tell him a secret. I got a face full of his delicious scent, he smelled of citrus and mint, a strange but intoxicating combination. "I'm psychic."

He blinked, not having been expecting that answer. He chuckled nervously, tapping out a beat on the bar top. "Is that so?" he asked jokingly, leaning closer to her. "What am I thinking right now then?"

A smirk grew on my lips as he took the bait, staring directly into my eyes without even a hint of worry. "You're thinking that you want to take me back to your place for drinks."

"I want to take you back to mine for drinks," he repeated monotonously. My devious smirk melted into an easygoing grin as I blinked to end the connection. He looked down, shaking his head as though to clear it before focusing back on me. "Hey, do you wanna come back to my place for drinks?"

"I thought you'd never ask," I told him, taking his offered arm. As we headed for the door I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end in a way that usually meant somebody was watching me. I looked over my shoulder, scanning the bar until I met eyes with Damon. I grinned cheekily at him, however instead of one in return, all I got was a sour expression and a raised glass. I frowned, confused by his reaction, but was quickly brought back to the situation at hand when my choice of prey for the night opened the door and waved me through. I paid Damon no more thought that night, my mind and body occupied by very different things.

I twisted the handle to the front door, it was never locked for we had nothing to fear. No burglar could ever best us, and no everybody who knew what we were weren't stupid enough to try anything. It was dark inside the boardinghouse, and since I was heading to bed I didn't bother to flick on the light. My cat-like eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could see almost normally. The heels of my boots clicked against the hardwood floors as I made my way into the parlour.

"And what time do you call this?"

I froze, shutting my eyes and cursing under my breath, spinning around just as one of them turned on a lamp, illuminating the room. Stefan stood with his arms crossed, staring at me coldly while Damon lounged in the armchair, a glass of scotch in his slender hand.

"Were you two just sitting in the dark, waiting for me to come home?" I asked, smirking playfully. They didn't reply, Stefan just stared while Damon took a sip of his drink. A laugh bubbled from my lips. "That's pathetic."

Neither of them spoke. The silence echoed with disapproval on Stefan's end. I got the feeling Damon was just a bystander, watching how the scenario played out for his amusement.

"What?" I asked seriously after a tense beat, my smile dropping and my eyebrow raising.

"Where were you and what did you do?" Stefan asked quietly, not even blinking as he watched my every move, most likely looking for signs of deception.

"Please tell me you're kidding," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. When he didn't crack a smile or even move an inch, my jaw clenched with irritation. "I don't answer to you."

"I know you Cassie," he began, straightening his back like it would give him the upper hand. "You get reckless when you're having fun."

I cocked my head, crossing my arms and mirroring his stance. In my heels we were the same height. "How is what I do, or how reckless I get, any of your business?"

"It's my business if your recklessness is going to impact this town in a negative way. Like, for instance, any mysterious deaths."

I huffed, angrily blowing a stray strand of hair off my face. "Relax, fun police. Nobody died, I'm more careful than that."

Damon chuckled slightly, about what I wasn't sure.

"Your shirt's back to front," Stefan informed me, his eyes screaming with judgement.

"I had a feeling it was," I responded, making no move to right it. Damon stood silently, moving over to the bar and pouring himself another glass. Stefan continued to stare, assessing me with his eyes. "Can I go now, dad?"

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose before disappearing. A moment later I heard his bedroom door slam shut from upstairs. "So how was he?" Damon asked consiprationally, leaning against the bookshelf and appraising me carefully.

"A solid six out of ten," I told him, stepped forwards and plucking the crystal glass from his hand, taking a sip of the scorching liquid before handing it back and pushing myself on my tip toes, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight D."

"Sleep tight Cassie."

"How about Spain?" Damon asked, peering out of the window. "You loved the festivals there."

"We were only there a decade ago," I countered, turning the page of my fashion magazine and distractedly staring down at the pretty designer clothes. "How about Paris. We could make it in time for fashion week."

"Ugh," he moaned with a grin, taking a sip of scotch. "I would like to see the models they have on tap this year."

"Do you think Barry would still be alive?" I asked conversationally, using the pen in my hand to circle a dress I was particularly fond of. "He can't have died of old age yet. Could he have?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, rubbing at a spot above his eyebrow. "Hey what about Hawaii," he suggested. "Haven't been there in a solid thirty years."

"Or Alaska. It's beautiful this time of year."

"Talking about where you'll go?" Stefan asked as he walked in, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. I flipped to the next page, lip twitching as I caught sight of an adorable belt that I immediately circled. "Any ideas?"

"I don't know," Damon answered vaguely, staring out the window once more. "London maybe; see some friends."

"Yes, London. Oh, I love London," I smiled, peering up at Damon with excitement.

"I know," he replied with a fond smile in my direction.

"You don't have any friends, Damon," Stefan commented, breaking the moment.

I stared up at him, one eyebrow raised. I cleared my throat, bring his attention to me. "What the hell do you think I am?" I asked sourly, frowning at him.

"You're right Stefan, I only have you," Damon replied sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart.

I laughed lightly, letting it go and turning my attention back to my magazine.

"So where are we going?" he continued chattily.

"We, are not going anywhere," Stefan corrected, crossing his arms. "I'm going to live my life as far away from you two as possible."

"Ouch," I muttered softly, keeping my eyes on the page in front of me and keeping my expression carefully schooled. "That stings a little."

"But we're a team. We could travel the world together," Damon grinned turning to look at me and waggle his eyebrows suggestively. "We could try out for the Amazing Race."

I laughed loudly at that one, giving up on the magazine and shutting it, tossing it onto the table my feet were propped up on.

"Hm... That's funny," Stefan replied dully, not appearing very amused at all. "Seriously, where are you going because we're not staying in this town," he added seriously.

Damon opened his mouth to comment but was interrupted by the doorbell. We all looked towards the door, wondering who would come to visit us. Stefan frowned, moving over to the door and cracking it open.

"I'm here to see Damon and Cassie," Sheriff Forbes said in lieu of a greeting. Damon strolled up to me, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet before dragging me over to the door.

"Sheriff," he said. "What a surprise."

"We weren't expecting you," I added, a welcoming smile pasted on my face.

"I'm sorry to bother you but we need to talk," she replied seriously, eyes flickering to Stefan cautiously.

"Of course, come in," I told her, waving her through. She stepped passed the threshold, nodding at Stefan politely. "Why don't we go through to the garden," I suggested lightly, closing the door behind her.

"Of course," she replied, nodding at us in agreement. Damon gestured for her to follow us as we silently made our way through the lounge and out the back door, leading her into our extravagant garden.

"We hope you understand the secrecy. Stefan doesn't know about this yet and we would like to keep it that way," Damon told her, coming to a stop beside the hedges.

"Of course. Kids are to young to be brought into this," she said tiredly.

"Absolutely," I agreed.

"So what do you need?" Damon asked.

"There's been another attack. A female victim. Her throat torn out, completely drained of blood. It fits the pattern."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. We thought we solved that problem when I staked the blonde one," he replied tightly, casting me an apologetic look from the corner of his eye. I froze for a split second, the mention of Lexi hitting me like a stake to the chest. I took a deep, unnecessary breath and pasted a smile on my face before the Sheriff knew anything was wrong.

"I'm thinking she must have turned someone," Liz told us grimly. "Or multiple some ones. The story for the town is another animal attack but I don't know how long we can keep lying to them."

I nodded in understanding, though I was honestly confused. I had no idea what was happening, we thought we'd eliminated the problem.

"The council's in an uproar. We thought we were past this," she added.

I crossed my arms, cocking my head at her. "So did we."

"So what do we do?" Damon asked, copying my stance and leaning closer.

"You're the only ones who've ever taking on a vampire. We were hoping you could tell us," she admitted hesitantly. I pursed my lips, glancing up and meeting Damon's eyes. I saw confusion in his gaze and I mirrored it, just as dumbfounded.

"We'll look into it," I assured her, gesturing for her to follow us back into the house. "We'll sort it out, it'll all be okay."

"Let me know what you come up with," she replied, as Damon opened the front door for her, waving her through gently.

"Absolutely," he told her

"We'll be in touch," I added sweetly. "Goodbye."

As soon as we shut the door, Stefan appeared, hauling Damon up by the collar and pressing him against the wall.

My right hand flew up and wrapped around one of his wrists, a warning growl slipping passed my lips. "What is wrong with you? You killed somebody," he accused, revealing he'd been listening in on our conversation with Liz.

"Get off of me," he commanded, pressing his hands on his brother's chest and shoving him back several paces. "A, don't touch me. And B, if I had I wouldn't have been so obvious about it. C, there's another vampire in town."

"That's impossible," said Stefan darkly, hands clenched by his sides.

"Obviously not," Damon countered.

"Well who could it be?"

"Dracula?" I asked sarcastically, annoyed with him. "How the hell are we supposed to know? You really do think we're the root of all evil, don't you?"

Damon chuckled bitterly, throwing an arm around my shoulder's and tugging me into his side.

"Besides, what do we care?" he began, pulling me along with him as he turned to leave. "We're leaving anyway right?"

"No. I can't leave now and you both know that," Stefan called after us, definitely annoyed. "How are we supposed to find this person?"

"Let the adults handle this Stefan," Damon yelled back over his shoulder. I muffled my giggles in his shirt.

"So what do I do know?" Caroline's voice asked through the small speakers of Damon's phone.

"Just wait, we'll be there in a minute," he replied, one hand holding it up to his ear, the other wrapped around my own hand, tugging me through the back streets of Mystic Falls as fast as our legs could carry us. We didn't have to worry about exposure, the most anybody saw of us were flashes in the corners of their eyes.

"Can you hurry? I have things to do," she whined.

"You can give us that," he said as we appeared behind her. She turned and gasped, her heart thumping wildly against her rib cage. She smiled at me then turned to glare at Damon as she opened her hand to reveal the compass.

"So why did you need me to do this?" she asked irritably.

"Because we interfere with the signal," Damon explained with boredom, plucking the compass from her hand and staring down at it curiously.

"Can I go now? This has blown like half of my day," she sighed, looking up at him and pushing out her lower lip.

"You do that. Get in your car, go home and forget I asked you to do this," Damon compelled her quickly, pocketing the compass.

"Okay," she chirped, a wide grin on her pretty face.

She turned and grinned at me, wiggling her fingers in my direction. "Bye now."

"Later," I responded, waving back lazily. I looked at the door to the warehouse, grimacing at how uneasy I felt. "Shall we?" I asked Damon as lightly as I could. He nodded and led the way up the ramp to the large industrial door. He peeked from left to right, checking for any bystanders before cracking the handle off the door with a twist of his wrist.

"Ladies first," he smirked, holding it open, watching me roll my eyes and duck under his arm and into the dimly lit storage facility. "Do you smell that?" he asked, letting the door slam shut behind us. I stood straighter at his words, sniffing the air cautiously and frowning as I smelt old blood and decaying bodies. "This way," he told me, not even taking a step in the direction of the scent before a series of loud gunshots echoed through the warehouse.

A sharp pain hit me in the chest, then two more in my lower stomach. I hissed, the shock and pain of the shots sending me to the floor. The pain was much worse than it should have been, leading me to believe they were wooden bullets. Damon grunted from where he'd collapsed behind me. "What the hell?" I groaned, rolling onto my back and staring up at the ceiling as I tried to reach in and rip out the bullet in my chest; it was a little too close to my heart for comfort. Before my fingers could so much as graze the wood, another shot hit me through the thigh. I yelped, my hand moving from my chest to hold my leg in pain.

"Yeah, I have tones of these wooden bullets so nothing funky. From either of you!"

My head snapped to the right, and my eyes widened in alarm as I caught sight of Logan Fell stepping out of the shadows and into the fluorescent lighting.

"You don't wanna do this. Trust me," Damon chocked from somewhere behind me, obviously in a lot of pain. Logan shot him again, and he grunted.

"Hey," I called loudly, coughing a little as I tried to make my voice travel. "Cut it out, asshole!"

"Ouch," groaned Damon.

"That's what you get."

"For what?" I asked, trying to distract him as I attempted to pull out the bullet grazing my heart. "What did he do?"

"He made me like this," he said crouching down to our level, gun swinging idly in his hand.

"I killed you," Damon groaned, pulling out a bullet of his own. I used his attention on Damon to my advantage, frantically digging for the bullet in my chest. I hissed in pain, not able to get enough of a grasp of it it yank it out. "I didn't turn you."

"See, I know what you and your brother are. I've been watching the three of you. I knew you'd show up here," he grinned sadistically. "I'm glad you did. Because I have some questions."

"Us first," Damon replied, his voice filled with pain. Abandoning the one in my chest I instead moved for the one in my leg. It wasn't as deep and I was able to remove it with little fuss.

"Who turned you?" I asked, giving Damon a chance to pull his own out.

"How should I know?" he suddenly yelled. "Last thing I remember is I'm about to stake your brother and then you grabbed me. That's it! Until I wake up in the ground, behind a used car dealership on highway 4. Somebody buried me."

"It happens," he sighed.

"You are dead," I added, wincing as I propped myself up on my elbows.

"Ow," Damon whined as he pulled yet another bullet out of his leg.

"You bit me," Logan pressed irritably. "It had to be you."

"You have to have vampire blood in your system when you die. We didn't do that," he explained, panting heavily with pain. Some other vampire found you and gave you their blood."

"Who?" he asked. I coughed again, cringing.

"That's what we wanna know," he cried as he collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the roof.

I levelled Logan with a serious stare. "Seriously, if we knew, we'd tell you."

"Dude, it's not like the welcome wagon was waiting with a bunt cake and a handbook. It's been a learn as you go process. You know? One minute I'm a small town on the rise news guy and the next thing I know, I can't get into my house because my foot won't go through the door."

"You have to be invited in," Damon replied breathlessly, still staring up at the ceiling.

"I know," he said, sounding bitter. "I live alone."

I chuckled, pain stabbing at me as I did. "Ah, sucks for you."

"Now I'm at the Ramada, watching pay-per-veiw all day and eating everything in sight, including housekeeping."

"It could be worse," Damon grimaced.

"All I can think about is blood and killing people. I can't stop killing people. I keep killing," he laughed. "And I like it. I'm conflicted."

Damon groaned, coughing slightly, "Welcome to the club."

"Not as fun as you would think," I added darkly, gazing at a particularly damaged portion of the roof.

"Wait, the cops only found one body," Damon mentioned.

"Sloppy," I scolded, aiming for playfully but just sounding tired.

"So I left one, I was tired," he explained. "But I've been hiding the rest of the bodies. They're right back there.

"You're kidding," Damon whispered, looking between him and the pile of bodies with wide eyes.

I looked over too and had to fight a grimace. I could see people of all ages thrown hazardously over top of one another, necks at unnatural angles and dried blood on their clothing. "Yeah, that's not psychopathic at all."

He glared at me angrily, moving to sit down on a crate nearby, staring off into the distance longingly.

"Why am I so overly emotional? All I can think about is my ex girlfriend. I wanna be with her and bite her and stuff."

I looked over, meeting Damon's eyes. His eyes screamed with emotions, telling me to go, to leave while he was distracted. I shook my head slightly, staring back at him with hard, stubborn eyes. "Well you probably love her," he replied, still staring at me, though the annoyance and desperation had left his expression. "Anything you felt before will be magnified now. You're going to have to learn how to control that."

"What about walking in the sun?" he asked eagerly. "I'm a morning person."

Damon and I glanced at each other once more, silently deciding between us that we wouldn't tell him.

"You can both walk in the sun, which by the way, is pretty cool." I subtly moved the hand with my ring on it, tucking it under my leg to keep it out of sight. "The council would never suspect you. That's not in the journals."

"Excuse me?" I asked tilting my head to the side, pausing when I felt the wood scrape my heart again. I sucked in a sharp breath, reminding myself to try not to move.

"The journals?" Damon asked, equally curious.

"Yeah, the founding fathers. They passed on journals to their kids. Come on guys. You gotta tell me; how do you walk around in the sun?"

"Who turned you?" he countered.

"How do you walk in the sun?" Logan persisted.

"Who turned you?" I asked.

"You know, I've been really nice so far. But I will kill you. And you," he looked to me, narrowing his eyes. I scoffed, rolling my own eyes.

"Then you'll never know," Damon growled as he slowly and painfully stood up. I tried to pull myself to my feet too, but once more felt the wood inch closer to my heart. I huffed, collapsing back on the ground in defeat.

"You're not answering our question," I growled, glaring up at him.

"You first," he demanded.

"It seems we are at a bit of an impasse then doesn't it."

"I have things to do," Logan said after a long, silent moment. "People to kill. Guess I'll be needing a little head start."

I heard the shots before I felt them, groaning as my shoulder and chest started to burn once more. "What a prick," I hissed, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to keep myself calm.

"Tell me about it," Damon replied, sitting up carefully and digging a bullet from his chest.

"I've got one about an inch away from my heart," I told him breathlessly, trying not to move at all. "Mind giving me a hand?"

He dug out another one, then crawled over to me slowly. He examined me for a long moment before reaching up and tearing my shirt off, leaving me in my red lace bra. "Whoa," I chuckled jokingly. "Buy me dinner first."

"I've bought you a thousand dinners over the last century," he snarked back, one hand holding my shoulder down, and the other moving to the valley between my breasts. "Now, if at all possible, stop talking," he instructed, eyes on his task as he reached into my gaping chest and carefully tugged out the little wooden bullet. I breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled it from my skin and threw it into the far corner. I tried to sit up but he pushed me back down, moving over to the bullet at my shoulder. "Don't move. You suck at digging bullets out, you're too impatient."

"Shut up," I told him in reply, gasping loudly as he roughly pulled the bullet from the wound. He moved to the ones on my stomach, a little more gentle as he tugged them out, watching as the skin slowly knitted itself back together.

"There," he declared, moving back to sit down properly and work on taking the last remaining bullet from his leg. "Some blood and we'll be good as new."

I sat up, moving over to him and unceremoniously yanking his jacket off his shoulders. "Buy me dinner first," he repeated, an amused smirk on his lips.

"I wouldn't have to take it if you hadn't ripped my shirt off, Fabio," I replied, standing to my feet and slipping on the large leather jacket. I held a hand out, helping to pull him to his feet. "Come on, let's go home."

I stood in my bathroom in my lingerie, a wet wash cloth in my hand as I wiped the blood from my completely healed skin. I hummed absent-mindedly, scrubbing the last of the red from my chest before chucking it back into the sink and strolling into my room. I flashed over to my drawers, pulling out a simple old band shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans, yanking them on over my damp skin.

"Just talked to Stefan," Damon said, appearing in my doorway in clean clothes. "He says Logan's at the school. You up for round two?"

"You better believe it," I responded, moving over to my vanity and running a brush through my hair a few times before slipping on some studded gloves. I couldn't wait to punch Logan in the face while wearing them, they left brilliant little cuts that stung for hours. I followed Damon out of the house and over to his beautiful car, sliding into the passenger seat and kicking my feet up on the dashboard.

Damon didn't even turn the radio on, deciding instead to ride in silence. I could tell he was as itching for revenge as I was. He broke about fifty traffic laws trying to get there before the idiot took off and managed to get away a second time.

We arrived at the school and both shot out of the car, making our way up to the entrance as quickly as we could without drawing attention to ourselves. We were met halfway by Elena and Stefan.

"Logan has Caroline!" he exclaimed and I tensed immediately. Annoyingly enough I was worried for the clingy, insecure girl. She'd become somewhat of a friend to me, which meant she was one of the few people in this pathetic little town I didn't want hurt, thus putting Logan in a very dangerous place on my hit-list.

"You run behind us. We'll track him," Damon told her reassuringly, nodding at Stefan.

"What about me?" asked Elena frantically.

"Is that a trick question?" I laughed bitterly. "You're going to go inside and pretend nothing's wrong."

Her eyes were shining with tears and my lips twitched as I remembered how pathetically human she was. "Don't talk to me that way!" she growled out of nowhere, turning on her heel and storming back inside. I had to admit, I was surprised. A tiny shred of respect for her grew inside of me. I was glad, in a way, that she wasn't just taking my shit for once. I liked a girl that could stand up for themselves, thus why I was so drawn to Caroline. She might be annoying, but the girl had a spine.

"We don't have time for this. Let's go!" Stefan yelled, jumping over the door and into the back seat of the car. I followed, sliding into the passenger seat and checking my phone for missed calls, just in case somehow Care had managed to send a message. I had no such luck.

We tracked him to a street corner a few blocks out of town. I cracked my knuckles in anticipation, opening the door and getting to my feet. I stayed behind Damon as he shot that Logan scum in the chest with the wooden bullets he had stored in the gun that he kept in the glove box.

"Paybacks a bitch, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically and I laughed in glee seeing him go down.

I appeared beside Caroline, holding her up and making sure she was okay. "Get her out of here," I said to Stefan, handing her off to him with a quick squeeze of her hand.

"What happened?" came Liz's voice from the receiver in the car.

"Sheriff," Damon answered. "Hey, it's Damon and Cassie."

"Where's Caroline?"

"She's okay. We're on Elm street."

I walked back over to Damon's car, reaching down to punch Logan in the face. There was a satisfying crack as his head snapped to the side, a long gash from my gloves appearing on his skin before slowly sealing shut. I continued around to the back of the car, popping the trunk and delving inside. We kept weapons stocked there just in case situations like these ever came up. I spotted a nice metal crowbar and slid it out from under the box it was under. I sauntered over to a groaning Logan.

"We're gonna try this one more time," Damon said coming up beside me. "Who turned you?"

"I told you I don't know," he panted, getting onto his knees.

"This tire iron could take your head clean off," I told him, smirking wickedly as my fingers twitched, eager to land another blow on his ugly face.

"Is that your final answer?" Damon asked.

"How can you side with them?"

"We don't side with anyone!" Damon protested, glaring darkly down at him. "You pissed us off. We want you dead."

"Who turned you?" I repeated, spinning the crow bar effortlessly in my fingers.

"I don't know," he insisted, holding a hand to his leaking stomach. I shrugged, bringing the metal bar down onto his back. The way he screamed made me assume I'd fractured his spine, making me grin.

"Wait, wait, wait, I do know," he shouted as I made to swing the bar again.

We paused, glancing at each other. "You're lying."

"You think you're the only one who wants to get into the tomb? Underneath the old church."

We both froze, looking down at him with narrowed eyes. "If you're lying to us," Damon began to threaten. "She will end you." I brought the pipe up to his neck, moving it back and forth like a golfer preparing to take a swing.

"I'm not lying!" he urged, looking up at us with scared, desperate eyes. "There's another way to break the spell. We can help you. Meet me at the old church."

"Take us down," Damon finally decided.

"What?" I asked, surprised by the sudden change of tune.

"Make it look real, make it look real!"

He pushed Damon up against the car before turning and punching me clear across the face, sending me staggering back several steps. I growled after him as the cops arrived, holding my bruised jaw.

"Where is she?" Liz asked, running up to us with an anxious expression.

"She's ok," he panted, acting exhausted from a fight that never happened.

"Our brother's taking her home," I added reassuringly. She exhaled with relief, putting a hand to her chest where her heart was still racing.

"We're sorry sheriff," Damon continued. "We just weren't strong enough."

He and I locked eyes, trying to suppress our grins. This was it. We were getting Katherine back.

"What's the first thing you'll say to her?" I asked, arm curled around Damon's as we walked through the old forest on our way to the church.

"I don't know," he told me, a smile on his face. "Probably that I love her."

I giggled, resting my forehead on his shoulder. "You're really just a big teddy bear, you know that?"

"Well don't tell anyone," he replied, smirking. "I have a reputation to protect."

I opened my mouth to counter his words when his phone began to ring. He dug it out of his pocket with his free hand and held it up to his ear.

"Hello."

"I just wanted to say thank you to both you and Cassie. I don't know how you did it," Sheriff Forbes Voice came through the speaker.

"Ah, not following you," Damon replied, ducking under a low hanging branch.

"We found Logan's body out by the old Fell warehouse," she replied. "It's been disposed of. He was hoarding victims. Innocent victims."

"What?" he asked, coming to a dead stop. My heart jumped into my throat.

"He's dead. This town owes you both so much," she said. "And so do I."

She hung up, leaving us in a shocked silence. My mouth dropped open as the reality crashed down onto me. Logan was dead. And we were never getting into that tomb.

"What the hell are we going to do?" I asked quietly once we had recovered from our shock.

"I was thinking we might go see Bree," he replied, voice sounding hollow. "I mean what else can we do?"

"Oh, Bree," I sighed. He used our connected arms to pull me in closer. He was trembling a little bit, and I pulled back to look him directly in the eyes. "We'll work it out Damon," I assured him. "Everything will work out."

A/N: and so begins Bloodlines. I'm pretty busy this weekend. I'm going to a bluelight and visiting some friends up the coast but because the next episode is one of my favourites. I'm pretty eager to begin it. So that should be done sometime within the next few days.