Chapter 11

Something was wrong. Well, it wasn't wrong but it wasn't right either, Elena decided as she took her seat in chemistry. Klaus Mikaelson wasn't there. And he hadn't been at school for the past few days either. And that was weird. To say the guy was a dick, he was usually there all the time. She'd seen him come in when he looked green with sickness. Elena had known him come in when he looked like a zombie after a party and a bad hangover. The dude never had a day off.

And now he wasn't here.

And he hadn't been here for the past few days…

Could he have died?

Try as she might, Elena couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting to Damon. When they had met up, she'd not only told him about Tyler but about Mikaelson too. And now the kid was nowhere to be seen. Damon had admitted before that he killed people; that he needed souls to survive. So what would stop him from extracting vengeance on Mikaelson? Damon had said that she was his mate – that he would do anything to make her life easier. Did that mean killing her annoying enemies?

Surely not? Mikaelson was merely a thorn in her side. He didn't deserve any more attention than what a passer-by would garner.

Once again her thoughts drifted to another area where she never wanted to visit again. When Mikaelson had tried to murder her, and rape her, in the alleyway, Damon had looked set to kill him. From what she could remember through her hazy and shocked memories, his hand had clenched harshly around the other boy's throat. The only reason Damon hadn't killed him was because Elijah had turned up…

Elijah! Oh God! She'd almost forgotten about him! Damon had admitted that Elijah was a vampire… And she hadn't told Matt! Oh God, she'd left her friend with a blood sucking monster… Elena glanced across the room to where Matt sat. Just lately he'd taken to wearing turtle-necked sweaters. But that could just be because of the cold, right? It was November. But she couldn't persuade herself that she hadn't seen the bandage on his neck.

No, she couldn't persuade herself from that. Elijah was feeding on Matt. But Matt didn't seem to mind. Did he know? Or did vampires have some dodgy mind fuck-up that they could do?

As if he could read Elena's mind, Matt began to walk over. He smiled and raised his hand in a wave, causing one side of the turtleneck sweater to crumple slightly. It revealed a white bandage on his neck. He frowned when Elena didn't wave back. She was too busy focussing on the white bandage.

"Hey, Elena?" Matt asked as he leaned against her desk. "Are you in there?"

She shook herself from her reverie. How could she honestly bring this up without breaking their friendship? "Hey, Matt," she said slowly. She glanced over his shoulder to see where Damon was. It wasn't peculiar for him to be late. He often was. "What did you do to your neck? A soccer accident?"

Unconsciously, Matt raised his hand and allowed his fingers to ghost over the mark. He winced as his fingertips pressed against the wound. So he was aware of it. This meant that, if Elijah had any powers, the vampire hadn't used any weird and wonderful mind fuck-ups on him. "No, it wasn't an injury." Elena somehow managed to cover her shock. She'd half expected Matt to latch onto the lie. "Elijah just got…kinky, that's all."

"Kinky?" Her eyebrows rose.

"You're not the only one dating a hot, not so human dude." Matt winked before sauntering away back to his own desk. When he sat down, he winked at her before doing a "fang" motion to the side of his neck.

This time, Elena couldn't cover her shock. How did he know? Had Elijah told him? Then again, Damon had ratted Elijah out which meant they were now even. She shook her head in Matt's direction. She couldn't believe this.

"You look shocked," Damon said as he sat down beside her. He leant over and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before reaching over to get his books out of his bag. Since they'd started dating, Damon's sudden appearances hadn't startled her any more. It was as if they hadn't gotten used to each other. Or that they had somehow attuned their bodies to that of the others. "What did I miss?"

"The fact that Matt knows that Elijah is a vampire, and that Elijah told Matt what you are."

Surprisingly, Damon didn't look shocked or upset. Instead he shrugged as he opened his book to a clean page. "I knew he would. He's always trying to get one up on me. It's kind of desperate really."

"Why though?" Elena asked just as Bonnie walked into the room.

"Old, feud. You know, blood related stuff. No pun intended," Damon said casually, waving his hand in the air in exasperation. Elena could tell that he was hiding something. Something had happened between Elijah and Damon, perhaps before she was even born. As he moved his hand, Elena caught sight of the ring on his finger. She hadn't noticed it before. She'd been too preoccupied with his voice…his face…his muscular arms…his God-like torso…his stunning personality… The list was endless.

"I'm guessing this goes back some centuries?" Elena lowered her voice when she saw some of her classmates look towards them.

"Just a few," Damon chuckled. He turned to face her, his fingers lacing with hers on the desk. A few of their classmates looked shocked at Damon's actions. And the fact that Elena seemed to encourage them. "He tried to…drain me dry a few years back. I was about ten at the time… If it hadn't been for Lucerna I think he would have succeeded."

Elena quickly scrawled down the diagram that Bonnie had drawn on the board. Something about the Ostwald Process. "But shouldn't it have been the other way around? You're the Angel of Death. Shouldn't you be at the top of the food chain?"

Damon shook his head. "There's no food chain. It's survival of the fittest. And I hate saying this, but when my kind is young we're…vulnerable at best. When we hunt we're blind. If anything attacks us then… It sucks." He laughed again and shrugged his shoulders. "But it gets better as we age."

"How old is Elijah then? And is Matt in any danger?"

"I have no idea how old the dude is. He's older than me, I know that. So he must be pretty ancient… Like, when 'living things were developing from microscopic algae' old. And Matt's pretty safe unless he pisses the dude off."

They settled into a comfortable silence after that. At least Matt was safe. That was good.

Around them there was the scratching of pens as people rushed to copy down Bonnie's incredibly scribbled hand writing. She didn't stop for anyone. Bonnie ploughed through the notes, giving no time for questions.

As she wrote, Elena flickered her eyes over Damon's form. His hand moved fluidly over the page as he wrote. Since they'd met up for the walk through the forest, they'd gotten closer. A lot closer. She'd been over to Damon's once or twice but had yet to meet Lucerna. Which was probably a good thing considering all the face-sucking the two had been doing. Even now, in the middle of class, Elena found herself blushing.

Speaking of meeting people, last night both Alaric and Jenna had mentioned about meeting Damon. But would he even want to meet them? She glanced up towards the board again, writing down the few equations that were there. After she was done, she looked at Damon and blushed when she saw his dark eyes focussed on her.

"Damon, I was just wondering if you wanted to… You don't have to, if you don't want to," she spluttered. It didn't help much when Bonnie turned from the board to raise an eyebrow at her. "Meet my parents. Well, I know you've already met them and this could be too fast…but… They wanted to know if you'll stay for dinner, tonight? Maybe? If it's too short notice-"

Damon was already nodding. His dark hair flopped in front of his eyes; his eyes that were sparkling with mischief. "I'd love to. No one has ever brought me home to meet their parents."

Angel of Death

Damon raised his hand to knock on the door of the Gilbert house. He paused before he did, instead lowering his hand to smooth out the navy blue shirt he was wearing. He glanced out of his eye corner, checking his hair in the window's reflection. Everything was in place. Good.

For some reason, he was nervous. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since…well, he couldn't even remember the last time. The fact that Lucerna had actually paid attention to his attire hadn't helped to soothe his nerves. Normally she would glance at him and do nothing more. But now she was fussing about, reminding him of manners (as if he needed reminding) and what to do and what not to do. If it had been any other time, he probably would have snapped at her to calm down or back off…but at least she was improving.

Like Bonnie had said, Lucerna's illness was due to the life energy that the ring had taken from her because the spell had used her blood. A couple of days had passed since the spell, and so Lucerna's health was improving. Given a few more days, she would be back to normal… Unless Damon made a mistake.

He knocked on the door to distract himself from his own thoughts. There was no point on dwelling on what was already done. A few seconds passed before Alaric answered the door.

Alaric's eyes narrowed when he saw Damon standing on the porch. A brief, but tense moment passed between them before Alaric visibly relaxed. There was something off about him…something different. Damon quickly looked him up and down, his eyes locking on the Onyx ring. An eternity ring: if the man died of anything supernatural, then the ring would bring him back to life. As if he could sense Damon looking at the ring, Alaric smirked before stepping back to allow him to enter.

"Damon," he said lowly, "so glad to have you here."

"Mr Gilbert, thanks for allowing me here. It's not often I get invited to meet parents."

"Oh, it's Saltzman; we're still planning the wedding." A faint blush stained the tips of Alaric's ears. Damon mentioned nothing about it and he could see that Alaric was glad. This time, Alaric genuinely smiled at him. "I wonder why," he seemed to joke.

And that was it. The ice between them was broken. The mutual respect that all guys seemed to have for one another was formed. As they moved through the house, Alaric was chatting about the latest football results and about the best bourbon. In the end, they both found they had the same taste for expensive, older versions of bourbon. And they would have ended up in an argument about football teams if Elena hadn't shown up.

"Hey, Damon!" Her eyes lit up as she spoke. In front of them, Alaric rolled his eyes before walking through into the kitchen. "I'd have answered the door, but Jenna had me peeling potatoes. Seriously, my hands stink." She grimaced but Damon couldn't contain the smirk on his face as Elena entwined her fingers with his. She glanced into the kitchen to make sure no one was looking before stretching up to give Damon a quick kiss. "Glad to see you and Alaric are getting along. He doesn't seem as growly and protective as he was last time."

"He's a good bloke," Damon said. "And he has good taste in bourbon. Shame about his shit taste in football teams though."

"Oh God! Not another bourbon fanatic! At least I know what to get you for Christmas." Damon blinked at her words. He hadn't thought about the holidays they'd share together and all the small moments in between.

"You know I still haven't thought of that. I'm sort of ashamed…" Damon shrugged his shoulders. "I'll wrap myself up. Then you can unwrap me." He winked, causing a heated blush to flame on Elena's cheeks. Her blush made her soul shine brighter and Damon unconsciously moved closer to her. Elena's soul had more of an effect on his demon side than the ring ever could. Just being near her completely diminished the effect the demon had on him…the ring only stopped it partially.

"Don't bother wrapping yourself up… Unwrapping you would just waste time. Time that could be spent doing other things…" Damon's eyes widened as her open suggestion. Never before had she been so…forward. And he liked it. Elena spun from his grip, throwing a suggestive little smile over her shoulder before leaving him standing in the hallway.

Images flooded his mind… And they weren't innocent. He clenched his fist roughly so his nails would dig into his palm and used the brief pain as a distraction. It wouldn't be good to give that kind of impression to Jenna and Alaric.

"Damon, it's nice to see you again," Jenna said as he entered the kitchen. There were four plates on the table, each filled to the brim with meat, vegetables, Yorkshire puddings and gravy. Fuck. He'd forgotten that he'd actually have to eat something. Just the aspect of food was enough to turn his stomach. He hadn't even drunk anything but bourbon for…he'd lost count since the last time he'd consumed anything healthy.

As if sensing his dilemma, Elena looked over at him. She frowned and did a small wave as if to see if he was alright. He faked a smile and nodded. This was going to be fun. To distract himself from the whole eating dilemma, he offered to help Jenna bring the drinks over. As if to mock him, she said no and to sit down and start eating. That he didn't need to help because he was the guest.

So he took the seat besides Elena and waited for Jenna to take her seat beside Alaric. In front of him, the food looked rich and perhaps even tasty – if he was human. Damon waited for the others to begin to eat before starting.

It was as bad as he had feared. The food clogged his mouth and seemed to grow in his throat. Try as he might, he couldn't quite keep a happy expression on his face. The gravy only seemed to make things worse. After the first few mouthfuls, he took a drink of water; for once loving the clean, refreshing taste in his mouth.

"So, Damon, do you have any plans for after high school?" Jenna asked as a way of conversation. Out of his eye corner, he saw Elena look up expectantly. It was something they'd actually discussed together.

He held up a hand, signifying that he was still chewing. A few awful seconds later, he swallowed, making sure to hide the grimace on his face. "To be honest, I don't really know. I was thinking of travelling." Yeah; travelling even though you've seen all places in the world at least three times. "Or maybe studying chemistry. But I haven't set anything in stone yet, I like to keep my options open."

"Best way to be," Alaric said around a mouthful of food.

"Alaric, remember your manners! You can't just speak around food like a savage!" Jenna exclaimed, flushing lightly as she looked at Damon for his reaction.

"I need to eat!" Alaric shrugged.

"I've been around worse," Damon joked and laughed as Jenna's eyebrows shot to her hairline.

And that was how lunch passed. Slowly the plate of food disappeared, even though Damon ended up getting another glass of water to help it go down.

Angel of Death

"You looked a bit uncomfortable at lunch," Elena mentioned as she sat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes roamed over his face as if to look for signs of illness.

"I'm not used to eating food," Damon said slowly as he took a seat beside her. He wondered how she would react; the whole supernatural thing was still new to her after all. "I can't remember the last time I consumed anything human – besides bourbon."

"You should have said. You didn't have to stay for lunch if you didn't want to." Elena glanced away from him and her fingers found her way to the edge of the bed covers where she began to pick at them nervously.

He acted instantly. Damon's hand came to grasp her wrist and bring it between them. Like he had in the forest, his thumb began to stroke circles over the back of her hand. "No! I didn't mean anything like that. I wouldn't have changed it… I just don't eat food, that's all." Even after all their midnight calls, meeting up (they could even call them dates, Damon supposed) Elena still thought he would turn her away… "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Relief washed through him as she turned to him and offered a small smile. "No, I should be apologising. I shouldn't have reacted like that, I never thought." Elena's tongue peeped out as she wet her lips. A blush began to rise along her cheeks.

This time Damon didn't wait for her to initiate it. He met her lips halfway. A quiet shocked sound left Elena's parted lips before she slowly began to relax. Her hands came to rest on his biceps. Damon pushed her down onto the bed gently, before covering her body with his. Before he could stop it, a growl came from him. Beneath him Elena froze and broke the kiss, a comical expression on her face.

"Did you just?"

"Yes," Damon murmured quickly as he resumed the kiss. Something was different. It was the same thing he'd felt in the forest when he'd pinned Elena against the tree: a possessive passion and the need to make Elena his for good. Their bodies fit together perfectly, the softness of Elena's contrasting with the hard muscular planes of his own. Damon rested his hands on either side of her, lifting her body so he wouldn't put too much pressure on her.

Damon felt Elena move beneath him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. She pushed him away but didn't break the kiss. Instead Damon allowed her to roll him over onto his back so she was straddling him. Finally she broke the kiss and Damon smirked at the heated look on her face. Elena's hair fell over her shoulder and her brown eyes searched Damon's. Whatever she was looking for, was there because her smirk grew to match his.

His muscles quivered when Elena's hands began to snake under his shirt. Her nails scraped lightly over his chest and this time Damon didn't even bother to hold back his growl. Her heated touch set his skin alight as his hands came to rest on her hips, holding her in place.

When Elena moved her hands away and began to unbutton his shirt, Damon rose up to capture her lips once more. Again and again Elena's hands fumbled at the buttons on his shirt. After a few minutes, he helped her and she whispered a quick "thanks" against his neck.

Damon let Elena take control. Everything inside him was screaming at him not to, to be able to control her, dominate her, and claim her. But if he rushed her…then it would all fall apart.

There was a crumple of fabric as Elena dropped Damon's shirt to the floor. Above him, Elena stilled for a moment, her eyes roaming over his exposed chest. A few seconds passed and Damon found himself wondering if she'd gone into shock. And then she blinked and that devious, secretive and desirable sparkle was back in her eyes.

Before he could do anything, Elena's hands were at the edges of her t-shirt. In one move, she pulled the fabric over her head, roughing up her hair in the process. Then it was Damon's turn to be shocked. He swallowed thickly, his eyes locking on the swell of her breasts that were held in a black lacy bra. Before this moment, Elena hadn't struck him as the "fancy" underwear kind of girl. But now… Fucking hell!

His eyes travelled the length of her exposed body; her toned stomach, the swell of her breasts and the pale column of her neck and the cascade of brown hair that trailed tantalising down the left side of her body. His hands followed that path over her body, ghosting over her soft creamy skin.

When their eyes met, Damon felt everything that he hadn't felt since he'd first seen Rose-Marie. Love. Love and not lust, though that was there in plenty too. God he loved her, everything about her: her insecurities which needn't be there, her care free attitude, and most of all, he loved her for giving him a chance. A chance to show her that he was different…

Angel of Death

He needed to hunt. The time spent with Elena had slowly whittled down his control. Beneath his skin, Damon felt his wings begin to itch and move. They ached to be free. When he reached the edge of the forest, Damon sliced two slits in the back of his shirt. Where he was going, it would be hard to explain why he was shirtless if he was caught.

As he reached the edge of the forest, Damon allowed his wings to unfurl. As Bonnie had said, there was little pain. The ring had managed to pacify his demonic side, which meant that his heritage would no longer battle for dominance. It was as painless as it could have been. And there was no blood either.

Damon glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see a change in his wings but the same, tattered and worn wings looked back at him. With a sigh, he continued through the forest.

But there was one good thing that came out of wearing the ring. Damon wasn't blind. Not once had his vision flickered or been impaired which meant that his demonic side was totally at bay. And he'd managed to keep control of himself. He hadn't given into the demon and allowed it control. In other words, he still had a conscience.

Half an hour later, Damon walked out of the forest. He brushed any dirt from his jeans and fixed his hair as he walked past shop windows. This was the central area of Mystic Falls. Above him the dark sky was starless, instead filled with impending clouds.

Damon hurried his steps, pausing only when he reached his destination. Mystic Falls police station. He tested the door lightly and when it didn't budge he applied more pressure until the lock within gave way. Surprisingly, no alarm sounded. Small towns, little happened in them so nobody every decided to prepare for anything out of the ordinary.

He shut the door behind him quietly, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention. All lights in the main area were off. In seconds Damon's eye sight accommodated for the lack of light. Beside the desk was a door that was slightly ajar, a line of light spilling into the room. Damon walked towards it.

When he opened the door, it squealed in its hinges. Quickly, he slid through the gap and shut it behind him. Any noise from the jail would only cause someone to come running. He waited a few seconds, tense in case anyone would come looking. But no one came.

Frowning slightly, Damon continued to walk through the jail. In one corner, a guard was slumped asleep in a wooden chair. So much for security…

Rolling his eyes, Damon paused outside the first cell his came to. A woman was asleep on the hard wooden bed, her body curled in on itself. Her blonde hair was grimy and her fingernails were chipped. On the far wall, Damon could see multiple engravings: the number of days she'd severed? Or the number of months? She looked to be in her middle age…so it could be months…

She tossed and turned in her sleep, her arms stretching and her hands grasping for something, or someone, who wasn't there. As she turned, Damon saw the woman's face. He recognised her instantly from a new report he'd seen on the television ten years ago. Alexis Johnson – imprisoned for life for the murder of her own child and for the paralysis of its younger brother.

Good; she was anything but innocent.

Damon raised his hands to the steel bars that barred her from him. His fingers wrapped around the bar and with the slightest of pressure, the bars began to give way. When the gap was large enough for him to fit through, Damon wasted to no time. He slid through the gap, cursing when the edge of his wing got stuck. With a quick tug it came free.

He made no noise, but as he neared, the Johnson's eyes flickered open. For a second he stared at him hazily with sleep filled eyes. But upon seeing his wings, her eyes widened. A hand came up shakily to her mouth. Her head shook back and forth in denial as Damon neared her.

"What are you?" She asked, pushing herself against the back wall. For some reason she made no loud noise – nothing to attempt to alert the sleeping guard. It was as if, despite her shock and obvious fear, that she had been waiting for him.

"An Angel of Death," Damon said lowly, taking the final step towards her. Johnson quivered in her bed but edged forward nonetheless. "And I'm here to reunite you with your dead child."

His words caused her to go pale. All colour drained from her face and she looked about faintly as if looking for the child's ghost. The hand that was by her hand lowered and stretched out towards him, shaking so badly that the outline blurred into whiteness.

When she opened her mouth to speak, no sound came out. But Damon didn't wait. He didn't care for her last words. He bent down, gracing her wizened lips with his own. Already acid was coating his lips, ready to severe the strings that attached her soul to her body.

Normally he would coax the soul from the body. This time he didn't. This time he didn't have the patience nor did he care for the woman. Instead, he yanked at the soul's strings, snapping them and making the woman's body spasm against his. A silent scream came from the soul but still he continued to snap and fray all connections it had with her body. With a final brutal tug, all strings snapped. Johnson's body shook and contorted one last time before slumping onto the bed with a thud.

Moving back, Damon wiped the back of his hand against his lips to rid himself of any remaining acid. He glanced down to the woman and felt nothing as her accusing, pain filled eyes stared blankly forward.

Before the guard could wake, Damon slipped from the police station.

When he neared the forest again, Damon decided to take the longer route. His wings needed to be free for a longer time and the darkness felt nice around them. It was once time where he didn't have to hide what he was. As he walked, Damon thought about the eventful dinner he'd had at the Gilbert's house. Or more to the point, what had happened after the dinner.

They hadn't gone all the way. Elena had frozen up before they had taken any more clothes off. So instead they'd stayed at the same stage they were at before, when she was most comfortable. The smile she'd sent his way had thanked him and he'd been happy enough to comply. Just the feel of her being open with him and so trusting was enough…for now; even if he had wanted to possess her and make her his.

Even remembering their time together set his nerves alight. This was why he was thankful for the straining creaking noise that distracted him. Damon looked around the woods cautiously, part of him expecting Elijah to pop up and attempt to drain him again.

What he saw was far different from Elijah. On the branch of a large oak tree, a body swung, suspended only by a length of rope. The man's head was lolled to one side at a crooked angle and a large red rope rash flared around his neck. His eyes had bulged with the strain of the rope, causing small streams of blood to run down his cheeks.

Suicide. But why? Damon walked up to the corpse, slicing easily through the rope with one fingernail. The body fell from the oak, and Damon caught it in his arms. He felt more respect for this corpse than the freshly dead body back in the jail cell.

But as the corpse touched him, Damon was assaulted by thoughts. The thoughts were of the last few moments before the man had killed himself. His thoughts had been incoherent and horrific. Through the man's eyes, Damon could see deadly jackals advancing on the man. Their skin was hanging from their skeletons and silver grey smoky wisps left them. Half eaten eyes were filled with glee as they advanced on the man.

The last moments shifted abruptly. The man had obviously been thinking about his torture. Nightmares flooded Damon's own mind and the man's terror began to fill him too. He'd been haunted by nightmares. But not just any nightmares – these had a darker, more demonic sense to them.

The only person who could have done something like this would be Elijah. The compulsion that all vampires had could be used to make a human go insane… But as soon as Damon thought about Elijah, he knew it was wrong. Why would Elijah want someone to commit suicide? He would want the blood for himself…

So that would mean that someone new was in town. Another demon was intent on making the citizens of Mystic Falls insane with night terrors. An Alp; it had to be an Alp. They were the only demons able to conjure nightmares to such intensity that they would slowly send someone delirious and then, eventually, insane…

And all Damon could think about was protecting Elena. He would do anything, to anyone, to protect her.

Hey up! Sorry for the two week wait, life has taken me away from the computer which sucks. Anyhow, thank you for all your reviews on the last chapter! They mean the world to me! And I'd love to know what you think on Delena, and what about the new demon in town? I'd love to know your thoughts!

The Nutty One xx