"You are lucky the bullet didn't cause any major damage," Jo said. "You should be back in action in a week or two."

Elena, Jo and Alaric gathered in Damon's hospital room. His bed had been elevated so that he was partially sitting up. A bandage covered his left shoulder; his arm was in a sling.

"How's the arm?" Elena asked first.

"Hurts. But I will live." Damon smiled, his right hand reaching out to hold her hand. "Providing I get enough cosseting and devoted attention, that is."

Elena ignored that. She had other things on her mind. "Damon," she said very seriously, "do you think someone deliberately took a shot at you?"

"Not me." He looked at her. "It's you. You were the target."

Elena went still.

"Gosh," Jo exclaimed, shocked. "You think someone was trying to kill Elena?"

"That possibility crossed my mind, yes."

"Now, why would anyone want to do that?" Alaric asked very softly.

"I don't know," Damon said. "It occurred to me that this may be related to our investigation."

Elena stared at Damon. "You are talking about the deaths of Katherine and Joseph, aren't you?"

Alaric looked at Elena and then back at Damon. "What's going on? What are the two of you up to?"

Damon stared at him for a very long time. "Katherine Pierce was murdered here in Mystic Falls thirty five years ago. Everyone believed that my uncle Joseph Salvatore killed her in a jealous rage and after that committed suicide because of guilt."

"We think both of them were murdered instead," Elena said softly.

Jo lifted startled eyes to hers. "You two are playing private eyes?"

Alaric grunted. "Are you two out of your mind?"

"Joseph didn't kill Katherine. They were both murdered," Damon said grimly. "I came back here to investigate their deaths."

"Wonderful," Jo said. "Now someone wanted to kill Elena."

"Which means the killer who had thought himself in the clear for the past thirty-five years might have reason to worry now because we are asking questions," Damon said.

"Are you sure we are talking about a male?" Alaric asked. "The sheriff couldn't find anything useful so far. There were too many people at the Charity Game Day."

"No. I'm using the masculine pronoun in a generic sense," Damon said dryly.

"So there could be a woman involved in this thing?" Jo asked.

"Oh, yeah," Damon said very softly.

Elena's eyes widened. "I thought you said it was a man who killed Katherine."

"It doesn't mean the killer can't have a helping hand," Damon explained. "There may be more than one person involved."

"Well, shoot and damn." Alaric sounded thoughtful now. "Everyone was so damn sure it was Joseph who killed Katherine."

Jo frowned. "I think both of you should leave this investigation to the sheriff. It's dangerous."

"I'm with Jo," Alaric agreed wearily. "Don't go poking a stick in a hole. There might be a real nasty varmint inside."

"The problem," Damon said deliberately, "is that the varmint has already crawled out of the hole. A murderer who had struck once to keep his secret might be willing to strike again."

Elena snapped her head around in surprise. "Damon, what are you saying? Are you saying the killer will try to kill me again?"

"Not you. Both of us."

"Then you two should know how dangerous the whole thing is going to be if you carry on with the investigation," Alaric concluded tightly.

"I'm not giving up," Damon said.

Alaric's mouth thinned. "This is a really, really dumb idea, Damon."

"Joseph Salvatore was my uncle," Damon said. "He was my family and I intend to do whatever I can to find out the truth."

Alaric contemplated him for a long moment. "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

Damon shook his head. "No."

"You are a stubborn bastard." Alaric rubbed the back of his neck. "At least you can't do anything at the moment because of your injury."

Damon got to his feet. "I'm getting out of here. Get the paperwork sorted out, Elena."

"Damon, your arm is injured. You can't leave yet," Elena protested.

"Didn't you hear what Jo said earlier? The bullet didn't cause any major damage."

"But Damon…"

"Just get me some painkillers."

"But Damon…"

He looked at her. "I'm leaving, Elena," he said quietly.

She threw up her hands and surrendered. Without a word, she stalked out of the room.

No one said a word as they waited for Elena to return. When she came back into the room, Damon had already changed into his shirt and jeans. He silently took her arm and led her outside to the car.

He put her into the passenger seat. His arm hurt but he figured he could drive.

It was raining as they drove away from Mystic Falls Hospital.

x x x

"Make love to me, Joseph," she said huskily.

"You have to leave him," he said.

"Can we talk about this later?" she said breathlessly as she kissed his throat. "I promise we will talk."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

No. She had promised before but she had never kept her promise. She would only find another way to distract him.

"Damon."

He frowned. Why was she calling him Damon?

She prodded him a little. "Damon, wake up."

He opened his eyes slowly. She was propped up on one elbow looking down at him.

"Katherine, darling, what have you done to your hair?" He reached out to touch her hair. "But I like it," he whispered.

"Damon," Elena said softly. Her heart thudded. He was looking at her so strangely. "What's wrong?"

He smiled sleepily, one hand straying under the covers to find her bare thigh. "What's wrong?" he asked darkly. "You know very well what's wrong. You tell me again and again that you love me, but you still won't leave him. I think you only love me when I'm inside you." He stroke her bare thigh. "Is that love? You have ruined me. Half the time I can't think straight. I wasn't like this before I met you, Katherine."

Katherine? Again, Elena's heart thudded hard. "Damon, listen to me. I'm not Katherine. I'm Elena. Remember? Katherine's dead."

His body jerked like he had been shot, and he pulled his hand away from her. Slowly he sat up. "Dead," he whispered. "What have I done?" He looked down at his hands. "This is your blood…her blood, on my hands. Always on my hands. It's my fault. I never should have touched her. I never should have…"

Elena didn't know what to do. She sat upright and cupped his face with her hands. "Damon, listen to me…"

He shook his head. "I never should have touched her…you…."

She drew back her hands and slapped Damon across the face, hoping to bring him to his sense. The sound of her hand smacking against his cheek was loud in the room. His head snapped around, and then immediately he turned on her. His hand reared back, and she prepared herself for the blow that was to come.

But the blow never came. He stopped, almost as if he were frozen, and then the hand fell. "Elena?" he whispered. "What happened?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question."

For a long moment, Damon stared at his hands. "It's my dream. I was in the dreamstate."

Elena's jaw tightened. "You thought I was Katherine."

Damon drew her into his arms. He hugged her close for a long time, turning his face into her neck. 'You are Elena." He pressed a kiss onto her neck. "You are not Katherine."

"Damon, tell me the truth," she said. He raised his head and looked at her quizzically. "Do I look like Katherine?"

He pulled her into his arms again. "You are not Katherine." His lips brushed hers, and when hers separated, he murmured a low groan and kissed her deeply. "You have the same hair colour and eye colour like Katherine," he whispered into her mouth, "but you are Elena."

He kissed her again with unappeasable passion.

"Damon," she sighed when they drew apart, "when you look into my face, who do you see?"

"The woman I need. The woman I care." He kissed her throat. "The woman I want."

"No, I mean…"

"I know what you mean." He eased her back against the pillows and followed her down, cradling her face between his hands and touching her mouth with his. "I see Elena."

His mouth came down on hers dominantly, but so sensually that she moaned against his lips. She opened to him almost immediately, savouring the taste of passion in his embrace. He plundered her like a man possessed, his tongue taking control of her mouth as he swept inside as though he was desperate for a taste of her.

Elena was delicious. Everything about her—the soft feel of her lips, the tease of her tongue against his, her hot, wet mouth—everything was perfection. Damon groaned against her mouth and intensified the kiss until it felt as if they were devouring each other. Elena gave little whimpers underneath him, whimpers of pleasure and need, and they made him hard.

"Get out of that goddamn pyjama top before I tear it off," he whispered huskily against her mouth.

Giggling, Elena sat up, pulled the pyjama off and let it go.

He lifted his hand to her hair and rubbed the strands between his fingertips. He watched his hand's slow progress down her neck and chest to her breast. His thumb made light, deft passes across the nipple until it hardened.

Catching her breath, she sighed, "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yes."

They lay down together. He pulled the covers up over them, took her in his arms, drew her close, and kissed her with more tenderness than passion.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he whispered against her lips. "Did I scare you just now?"

"No."

He angled his head back and looked at her suspiciously.

She ducked her head timidly. "Well, only a little. I was more pissed than scared."

His hand curved around her throat; he stroked it with his thumb. "You were pissed because I called you Katherine."

She tilted her head to one side and gazed up at him. "I'm not her replacement, Damon."

"No, you are not a replacement."

She laid her hand along his cheek and drew his head down. They kissed long and avariciously. His hand had found its way to her breast again by the time he ended the kiss. Pushing back the covers, he watched his fingers caress her nipple.

She was making small, yearning sounds even before he lowered his head and closed his lips around her nipple. He sucked on it with masterful skill. His hand moved down to appreciate the curve of her waist, then smoothed over the shape of her hip and thigh. He touched her navel playfully, and lightly scrubbed the area beneath it with his knuckles.

He touched the delta of springy hair, and his eyes turned dark.

"You are Elena," he murmured.

"I'm Elena."

He slid his hand between her thighs. She raised her hips slightly to accommodate him. She was already wet. He slipped his fingers inside her.

"Damon," she gasped with pleasure.

"Shh. Just enjoy."

His thumb idly fanned back and forth across that vulnerable gem of flesh while he planted kiss after fervent kiss on her fertile mouth.

"You are crazy," she panted between kisses.

"You are making me crazy."

"Am I?"

He inched his head down and stroked her belly with his tongue. His thumb continued to finesse her slowly, provocatively, maddeningly, while his fingers slid in and out. Sensations began to bubble warmly within her lower body. The pressure centred on the idle movement of his thumb, so that when he replaced it with the tip of his tongue, she cried out.

She clutched handfuls of his hair and tilted her hips upward toward the heat of his avid mouth, toward the swirling magic of his tongue.

Not until the aftershocks had subsided did she open her eyes. His face was bent low over hers. Damp strands of hair clung to her cheeks and neck. He lifted them away and laid them on the pillow.

He smiled at her. "You are amazing."

Lovingly, she combed her fingers through his hair. "You are amazing too."

"You may have the same hair colour and eye colour like Katherine. But you are nothing like her." He studied her doubtful expression. "You don't seem convinced."

Unable to meet his incisive eyes, she looked at a point beyond his shoulder. "If you are Joseph reincarnated, do you still have feelings for Katherine?"

"I'm Damon, not Joseph." Elena turned her head aside. Damon gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him. "My feelings for you haven't changed even if I may be Joseph reincarnated. You got that?"

"I think…"

"No." He shook his head so emphatically that strands of his dark brown, almost black hair fell over his blue eyes. "Don't just think-know. You are the only woman in my head right now. You are the only woman that's been in my head since I met you. You are the only woman I'm dying to make love to every minute. You are Elena Gilbert and I want you." He imbedded himself firmly inside her. "Understand?" He pushed higher, harder, hotter, and groaned, "Understand?"

He made himself understood.

x x x

Something didn't feel right.

"Katherine, I'm home."

There was no answer.

He fumbled the key into the lock and turned the knob.

"Katherine, darling, I'm home," he said as he pushed the door open.

There was still no answer.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Please don't be angry," he said.

There was blood on the floor.

"No!"

He saw Katherine lying on the hallway floor, crushed flowers all around her and blood staining her gown and her body. She tried to call out to him, but she couldn't speak.

"Katherine?" he asked in an odd voice. He dropped to his knees and touched her bloody gown as if he could not believe what he was seeing. "Oh my God! It's my fault. I should have never left you here alone. Who did this to you?"

He lifted her gently and held her in his warm embrace. For a moment, just a moment, he thought everything was going to be alright, now that he and Katherine were together.

"It's my fault. I should have come home earlier. Who did this to you?" he asked. "I'm so sorry….."

A shadow came up behind him. But he didn't realise it. All he cared at the moment was the woman he was holding in his arms.

"Who did this to you?" he asked again. "Katherine, who did this to you?"

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to warn the man she loved. But no words came out, not even when the shadow lifted the gun to Joseph's temple. Joseph was holding her in his arms when the shadow pulled the trigger…

Damon woke up with a start, the dream or so called vision so startlingly real he could still smell Katherine's blood and the fresh flowers that had been spilled all around her.

Until now, he had seen what had happened only through Joseph's eyes. He had felt the anger and frustration, and that made it easy to believe that Joseph could have killed Katherine in a jealous rage. It was a relief to know that he had not. He knew it. Joseph would not hurt Katherine. The Salvatore men would never hurt the women they loved.

Someone killed Katherine and Joseph.

I was right, he thought. I'm one step closer. Not much longer now. I will find out who you are, you bastard.

He felt Elena stirred beside him. She opened her eyes slowly and yawned.

She smiled up at him. "You are awake," she said. "How's the arm?"

"I didn't kill Katherine," he said without preamble.

Her eyebrows arched slightly.

"Well, Joseph didn't kill Katherine. He found her dying. Someone killed them both."

She sat up slowly. "What do you mean?"

"Someone was inside the house when Joseph came home that night." The cold thrill of the hunt was riding him now. "Someone pulled the trigger."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm pretty sure someone was inside the house that night," Damon said. "Someone came to the house that night and killed Katherine."

"Then Joseph came home and found Katherine dying." Her expression sharpening. "He was killed as well and the scene was reconstructed to look like a suicide. Is that what you are thinking?"

"Yes." Adrenaline spilled into Damon's bloodstream. "It looked like a perfect plot. Killing two birds with one stone."

"Everyone would believe Joseph killed Katherine in a jealous rage and the committed suicide because of Katherine's affairs." She glanced at him. "In that case, what do we do next?"

"Dream."

"Dream?" she asked.

He turned his head to look at her. "I need to go back to my dream."

She stilled. "What for?"

"To look for the answer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need to go back to my recurring dream to figure out the answer."

"How long would it take?"

"Not long." He reached out and took her hand. "I want you in my dream."

Her mouth dropped. "What?"

"I have a feeling that you can help me find whatever it is I'm searching for in that damn dream."

"Are you serious about this?"

"Walk through my dreams with me, Elena. Help me find what I need to find."

"All right, but I have to warn you, I am not a dream therapist," she said. "I can't guarantee I can help you."

Damon's eyes lightened and his strong fingers clamped fiercely around hers. "Do you trust me?"

She looked at him. "Yes."

"Sweetheart," he breathed just before his mouth found hers.

Elena parted her lips for him, inviting him into her warmth and then there were no more words.

Damon's kiss grew suddenly fierce with a hunger that Elena responded to instantly. She welcomed the fierceness in him, knowing that it would never be used against her, knowing that with this man she was safe. She could trust this man.

Passion flared without any warning, sweeping Elena into the heart of an intense swirling storm. Damon's arms tightened around her. He lay on his back and pulled her with him.

Then his hands locked in her hair.

She felt him lift himself against her, and her hands slid up under his back. She loved the feel of him. She couldn't get enough of it. Her whole body was beginning to sing with the joy only his lovemaking could give her.

She wanted to join with him, become one with him, love him.

His hands glided warmly over her curving buttocks as he continued to kiss her.

She slid down along the length of him, and he began to breathe heavily as she stopped long enough to drop tiny kisses here and there across his broad chest.

Damon's hands tightened again in her hair. Wordlessly he lifted his hips against her, letting her know the full extent of his arousal. She reached for his male hardness, cupping him intimately. And then her hair flowed over his thighs as she worshipped him with her mouth.

Damon groaned, enduring the sweet torture for as long as possible. But in the next moment he was lifting her and pushing her onto her back. He rose, looming over her for a long moment as he studied her nude body. His hand moved along her thigh until he reached the flowing liquid warmth that marked her own desire.

Gently he stroked with his fingers until Elena thought she would fly apart into a thousand pieces. A moment later, when he touched her with his tongue, she knew she was lost.

The world spun around her. Her body was an exotic instrument that only Damon knew how to play. She clutched at him, writhed against him, sobbed out her feminine demands.

And finally he came to her, burying himself deep within her until she was filled with him and he was surrounded by her. The white-hot heat of their mutual passion exploded around them, enveloping them. They clung together, whirling about in an endless universe that knew no beginning and no end.

Elena gave herself completely, bestowing herself as only a woman in love can when she knows she has found the right mate. It was a total capitulation to her own passion and to her lover's. It was the kind of surrender that forever chains the conqueror.

Elena cried out, and Damon drank the sound from her lips.

When it was over, neither spoke. They fell into an exhausted sleep in each other's' arms.

x x x

She walked toward him through the seething fog of dreamlight.

"Where are we?" Elena looked around.

"The driveway of Salvatore Boarding House," he said.

She glanced around. "Ah, yes."

"I have frozen the scene for us so that I can take my time examining events. Things don't look quite the same as they do in the usual version of this dream," he said. "I don't feel the same, either."

"Why is that?"

"That's because this is a lucid version of the dream. I'm aware that I'm dreaming. I can exert some control. Because of that perspective, the experience feels different than it would under normal dream conditions."

"If you say so."

He looked around, getting his own bearings in the dreamscape. The scene was frozen but he knew exactly where he was. The timeline was clear. Joseph Salvatore was not dead yet. He had just arrived. He had stopped his car in the driveway. The house remained dark.

"It was almost midnight when Joseph returned," he said. "The house was dark."

"Katherine was inside the house. She would have turn on the lights."

"Someone turned off the lights."

"The killer," she said. "The killer was waiting inside the house."

Even through the dreamtime atmosphere, he could hear the shiver in her voice.

"Yes, someone was waiting for Joseph inside the house." He glanced around. "Joseph got out of his car and walked to the front door."

"What did he see?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"It was dark. The light on the porch was turned off."

With his senses heightened, he could see Joseph standing in front of the door. When he looked at the door, the door knob remained intact. There were no signs of break in.

"Katherine let the killer into the house," he said. "She knew the killer."

She looked at him. "How do you know?"

"The door knob was not broken. There were no signs of break in. Joseph opened the door with his keys."

"Okay. What else did you see?"

"I'm standing at the front door. The windows were closed."

"No broken windows?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No."

"Alright. Now you are at the front door. Do you catch a glimpse of anything that you think is important?"

"Yes." Excitement rushed through him. "Yes, now I see it. Katherine's car was parked in the driveway. There is something else."

"What is it?"

"It's a bike he said. "There is a motorbike."

"Can you take a closer look?"

The dream sequence shifted fluidly around him. He looked away from the frozen curtain of aurora energy and turned to focus on the shadows that shrouded the dreamscape.

"It's over there behind the pine tree," he said. "I can see part of it. The rest is hidden by the pine tree."

"Hidden?" Elena pounced on the word. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Someone parked the bike behind the tree so that nobody would see it. Joseph didn't notice it when he came home."

"The bike belongs to the killer?"

"Joseph didn't have a bike. Neither did Katherine." Damon came out of the dream on a rush of adrenaline and psi. Elena followed him.

"You feel okay?" he asked gently, taking her hands in his.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"There was a bike that night when Joseph and Katherine died. Someone came to the house before Joseph came home. Katherine was stabbed. When Joseph returned, he found her dying. Then he was shot."

"Make sense." Elena pondered for a minute. "The bike belonged to the killer. And Katherine knew the killer because she allowed him inside the house."

"All we need to do is find out who fits the profile, as the cops say. Someone who owns a bike and who would also want both Katherine and Joseph dead."

"How are you going to do that?" she asked.

"To do that we need to talk to someone who knows this town better than you and I do."

"Got a name in mind?"

Damon's mouth curved in a humourless smile. "As a matter of fact, I do."