Omg this chapter is so long because I've been M.I.A taking exams and then finals. So here you go. It's a present.
"So what's it say?" Damon asked.
They were on their way back from Whitmore College to Mystic Falls. Bonnie had suggested visiting Caroline, more so out of duty, but to her relief, Damon ha denied her request. Now the blame wouldn't be on her when Caroline found out about the impromptu trip.
She was leaning against the car door with one leg up, reading one of Shane's books.
"Nothing much. It's just talking about the history of Silas, Qetsiyah, and the other woman Amara so far. It hasn't even had specific spells spoken about yet."
"Well Shane wasn't exactly an expert."
"His wife was the witch so…"
They lapsed into silence as her eyes quickly scanned the books of the page. Every 3 seconds she was flipping the page to the book, trying to absorb any information that could be a clue to defeat the bastard Silas.
"Who's this Amara chick again?"
"She was Qetsiyah's hand maid. She betrayed her by being involved with Silas, and she broke them apart."
"Right…" Damon was reminded of how he had purposely, and remorselessly, taken Elena from Stefan.
As if she could read his mind, Bonnie continued to speed read and said, "Remind you of anyone?"
Damon ignored her jab even though it made a vein in his forehead pulse in displeasure and continued to drive. They still had a while to drive before they got back to Mystic Falls. It wasn't like he was with Elena right now anyways; both were pretty much entirely focused on Stefan. And he'd be lying if he said it didn't bother him that Elena was as willing to forego their relationship in lieu of Stefan.
But, for once, he kept his mouth shut and focused on the problem at hand. Or problems. Stefan needed to get better, and Silas needed to get dead. But he could still spare some thoughts for other people's relationships.
"What about you?" he asked Bonnie, downplaying his interest to seem as if he was only countering her argument about his love life to battle her own.
Bonnie didn't understand. "What do you mean?"
"You and Little Gilbert. Still madly in love? Willing to sacrifice your life for him again knowing I won't be there to help you the next time?"
Bonnie stared hard at the book in her hand until she remembered what her powers could to an object that she focused on; it probably would have burst into flames if she didn't manage to avert her gaze.
She already knew the answer to the questions Damon asked to deflect her own. She would never feel the same about Jeremy again. And would she sacrifice herself for him? Hell, no. She had learned her lesson. But still…if she had to go back and experience killing all those witches again just for the sake of it she'd just might.
"My priorities have changed," she answered, because it was true. She wouldn't risk her own life for anyone else's anymore, but…to feel that again? The multitude of powers that invaded, overcame, and intermingled with hers? It was nothing like she was used to.
She thought she had felt it once…when she used Jeremy's body to desiccate Klaus. But somehow this time was different. The desire she had to take more was consuming. The revenge she wanted and felt capable of taking was unprecedented.
She turned to Damon and said, "I know I'm capable of more than Jeremy now."
She didn't know how he'd take her comment, and he didn't know he should take it. So he merely replied, "Never sacrifice your own well-being for someone else is my motto."
They stared into each other's eyes, measuring up what they each had to say, before Damon turned to the road again and Bonnie to her book.
She finished the book and threw it to the back seat expressionlessly. Was that all it had to offer? Background information she already knew about? No spells whatsoever? She could feel agitation building up in her but she tried to quell it.
She couldn't get the name Amara out of her head. Maybe it was because she was the other woman, like Anna. Maybe because both of their names started with A. Maybe because they both destroyed the relationships of Bonnie and her long lost ancestor.
"How about we just keep relationship talk out of this friendship?" Bonnie offered. She leaned her arm against the passenger door and her head against her hand and looked at Damon.
"I would have suggested going back to enemies otherwise," he said, relishing in the fact that Bonnie wouldn't try to analyze the relationship between him and Elena any further.
Bonnie thought to herself for a while and asked, "What was it like? Dying for you?"
Damon would have only offered a curt answer to the question if it weren't Bonnie who had just come back from the dead, but instead took a moment to think about the question. "For the first time, or for the times afterwards?"
"I don't know…both I guess."
Damon thought some more. "For the first time it was what I would assume it was like dying for regular people: dramatic, slow, and agonizing. But once I became a vampire, I never took it seriously; I ignored the shallow breaths, and the slowing heartbeat, and the strength decreasing from my body. Anyone who knew how to dispose of a vampire was going to be killed by me first. But for a mortal like you…you'll be snuffed out before you even realize someone is trying to kill you."
Bonnie considered that statement. "So you think immortals will always have the upper hand?"
"Maybe. If you don't have other immortals on your side. We're the golden ticket."
She rolled her eyes but half-believed what he said. Immortals always seemed to survive while people like her suffered the consequences.
Maybe she'd find a way out of it.
She read the books Shane had on Silas. Then read them again. Then read them again. And she still couldn't find any spell that would help her incapacitate, or better yet, kill him.
The longer she spent trying to find a way to end him, the more her blood thirst grew. The longer she found herself digging for a way to kill Silas to no avail, the longer she felt her resurrection meant nothing.
One night she dreamt something terrible; she had dreamt Elena drained her grandmother and father of every drop of blood that they had in their body. Bonnie had watched helplessly as her family's skin grew taut around their skeletons as they were killed.
Their once beautiful brown skin became decellulized and white; the hair from her grandmother's head became brittle and fell away, and she watched as their eyes lost any life they once held in them and their body shriveled up into dry, shriveled corpses.
She startled awake, expecting to be a prisoner beyond the veil once again. But she had escaped her reality where she was only a soul to be tortured by the dead witches. She lay in her bed breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling she had dearly missed while she was deceased.
The glow in the dark stars that still held a semblance of the good they had bestowed upon Bonnie when she was still young and afraid of the dark watched her as she tried to gain her bearings. Bonnie turned to her left to look at her alarm clock; it was barely six in the morning.
She slipped out of bed and went to the shower, climbing in before the water had even begun to warm. All she could think about was the dream as she stood underneath the showerhead that sprayed freezing water onto her, not that she really noticed.
She tried the push the image of Elena draining their blood- like she had tried to do to her- away from her mind's eye as far as possible, but that still left the lifeless corpses of her departed family with her.
The water heated to the temperature of Bonnie's body, but it did nothing to ease her mind. She only spent ten minutes in the shower, absently scrubbing her skin, before she got out.
She stood on her bath mat, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror, unsure of whom she was seeing; it was still clearly her, but she had faint bags under her eyes that lacked vigor. She swiped her towel from the rod and dried herself.
She needed to get out of the house.
She quickly dressed herself into jeans, a baggy peach sweater, and her black parka jacket. She pulled on some boots, bounded down the stairs, and exited her house.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, highlighting the sky in pastel blues, oranges, purples, and yellows. She got into her father's abandoned car and headed to the woods.
She made her way deep into the woods. Besides the tall trees' browning leaves rustling in the crisp breeze and soft animal sounds, the woods were silent. The quiet had been unnerving Bonnie as of late, but here in the comfort of nature she could finally breathe easy.
She settled on the forest floor and started breathing deeply. She let everything that was troubling flow to the surface: her father's death, her time spent on the other side, and a multitude of confusing emotions for the people still in her life.
But the problem that she struggled with the most was that the key to Silas's demise kept eluding her. He was the cause of it all. He was the reason she was floundering like a fish out of water, trying to catch some semblance of normalcy in her chaotic life.
Somewhere deep inside of her, something was wrong. She couldn't sleep well, she was seeing things, she couldn't eat. She wasn't her anymore. All she could hold onto was her magic.
Sophia had said that witches could draw power from anything. She placed her hands on the floor, closed her eyes, and examined her surroundings with her magic and felt a current of energies all around her; it was bundled in the roots buried in the dirt. It was in the tufts of grass all around her. It was being pumped throughout the woodland creatures' bodies.
And it was ripe for the taking.
She started to call to it. It drew into her body and started to warm it exponentially. She sighed, savoring the way all the different energies entered her and joined with her own. It was like when she had consumed the witches' to save her own life, but it was far more diluted.
She wanted more of it. She wanted it all.
Her brow scrunched together as she concentrated on forcibly pulling the energy out of their biological containers. The black veins branched out underneath her clothes, pulsing in hunger.
High gusts of hot wind picked up around Bonnie, spreading out 100 feet wide all around her, trapping anything and everything in the zone.
The birds stopped chirping languidly and trilled in distress. They took flight from the hidden nests in the trees, but Bonnie's reach was too long and powerful. She took their life force away from them, and they dropped dead to the floor.
Avian carcasses rained down from the sky, squirrels plummeted from boughs, and the trees that had been standing for centuries withered into gray husks. The leaves lost all color they once contained and soundlessly dropped to the ground, shattering to dust. The grass and flowers wilted, limp and bleached.
Bonnie moaned out of the destructive trance and the wind dispersed across the land. Her body quivered from the power she had leeched. Her mouth hung slightly agape as she opened her eyes. The black cleared to reveal the green.
She paid no attention to the remains of the animals around her. Her eyes stayed trained on the sky above her. Cogs in her mind whirred. She could no longer deny her lust for power.
Her magic needed to be fed, and she would no longer deny it what it so desperately craved. Her magic was all she had left; what it desired was what she desired. She had spent too much time at odds with it, but now things would change.
If Expression had taught her anything, it was that when she listened to her magic she was capable of so much more. And if she continued to collect more to add to her own, she would be strong enough to kill Silas and anyone who didn't have her best interests in mind. She hopped up from the floor- missing the singe marks she had left behind- and ran to her car.
She skidded before the Salvatore mansion and busted out of her car with her black hobo bag. She jogged up to the door and pounded on the door three times, shifting from foot to foot in impatience.
Damon answered the door. He was wearing the usual black clothes; he couldn't stop dressing for a bad boy persona he seemed to have retired in lieu of recent events.
"Do you know what time it is," he said and leaned against the door as he widened it more for her to come in.
She bounced inside and grabbed Damon's arm, pulling him to the living room; the usual heat flooded Damon from the contact. "Its 7:30 a.m. I have an idea to kill Silas."
"Oh yeah? Hope it sticks this time."
Bonnie ignored his comment and dropped his arm to kneel at the coffee table while Damon took a seat on the couch behind her. She reached into her bag and pulled out a map of the United States, then spread it on the table.
"Since none of the grimoires in our possession have anything about a way to defeat an immortal witch, we just have to find other grimoires. And the only way to find grimoires is to find witches."
"I'm so glad you didn't inherit that annoying habit of riddle-speak from your ancestors," Damon said.
"I know the IQ level I'm dealing with."
"Ha ha," he responded dryly. "And how are we going to find these witches?"
"A locator spell with a twist. Our powers may feel different, but essentially it's of the same essence. If you have a witch," she explained, reaching into her bag again and bringing out a knife.
She cut into her palm, unflinchingly, and let the blood from the cut drop onto the map. "You can find a witch."
She murmured the spell and the two watched as blood drops spread across the map, all over the country. There were at least six for every state.
"All we have to do is pick one and go pay them a visit," Bonnie said. Her eyes held the excitement that she concealed from Damon.
"We?" Damon asked, arms folded and eyebrow quirked.
"What? You don't want to come?"
"I figured you'd want to take Elena or Caroline. Put up a fight to get me not to come, like when you went to see your mother for the first time."
"That was different. Besides, I might need a body shield just in case something goes wrong."
"Elena could be a body shield. Or better yet Caroline," Damon said.
"I like Caroline and Elena." But did she? She thought back to the nightmare that she pulled herself out of this morning. Right now she barely wanted to look at her, let alone go hunting for witches with her.
"Well when you put it like that it makes me want to go less and less," he said.
"You want me to beg?"
Damon smirked. "You are already on your knees…"
Bonnie reconsidered taking Damon along. She didn't need him, but she would like him to be there. She twisted her body around to face Damon, who was waiting expectantly. She looked up at him through her thick, dark eyelashes.
"Please?"
He pretended to think about her request, enjoying the game they were playing. He liked the new Bonnie; the old one was too stiff and serious. She still held all the qualities he revered in her, but now she was fun. He couldn't help his growing fondness of her.
The smirk never came off his face. "So where we going?"
Bonnie mirrored his smirk and went back to the map. She didn't want to go too far, but she couldn't stay too close either. She wanted to find a witch somewhere news would be less likely to reach them once they got back to Mystic Falls. "Hartford, Connecticut."
Bonnie had insisted that they leave right away. It wasn't like they were doing anything anyways. Elena and Stefan had sided with her, so Bonnie and Damon packed into his car with a couple of bags and started their eight-hour drive.
They discussed ordinary things for once: his favorite book was Call of the Wild by Jack London, hers was a tie between A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khalid Hosseini and The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho.
They both appreciated classical music pioneers Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. Damon had lived through and enjoyed the punk rock age, his favorite was classical rock, and he accompanied Jimi Hendrix on tour once and became good friends with him; Bonnie preferred pop and alternative rock.
Comfortable silences ensued when they stopped talking to appreciate the other's tastes.
They got to the Hampton Inn- where they had reserved a room with two queen beds- around 7 p.m. They decided to rest for the night and visit the witch the next day.
They stopped at a somewhat busy pizza restaurant; their waitress was a thin, tan brunette wearing a low cut v-neck T-shirt, showing off her pushed up boobs. Her lips were puffy and pink.
"My name's Chelsea and I'll be serving you tonight. What can I get you guys?" she asked, paying no attention to Bonnie.
Damon ordered a beer and a side of fries and made eyes with Chelsea, while Bonnie got iced tea, white tomato pesto pizza, and jalapeno poppers.
"You really have a thing for brunettes, don't you?"
Damon chuckled. "I thought relationships were off the table for topics of discussion."
The waitress came back with their drinks and proceeded to flirt with Damon until she went to the back to get their food. Bonnie sipped her drink as she watched their interaction; it was so easy for Damon, even without having to use compulsion.
He was too handsome for his own good, or anyone else's. She wondered how much of his ego was comprised on his ability to woo women.
"Really?" she asked incredulously when Chelsea left again. "I know you're not with Elena right now but if you try to bring her back to the room I will make you finish prematurely."
Damon opened his mouth to address her threat, but remembered the beginning of the statement. "She told you?"
"No, Caroline did."
Did that mean it wasn't important to Elena? Was she too concerned with Stefan that Damon was a non-factor? Did she expect to start again with him, once Stefan was better? Did Damon expect that they would get back together?
Chelsea came back with the food and set it before them; Bonnie began to eat immediately, but Damon was staring into space sipping his beer.
"If you need anything else," Chelsea said, squishing her boobs together as she leaned down, "I'll be happy to help."
But Damon was no longer in the mood to entertain brunettes with doe eyes. He didn't even bother to look at her when he said, "Not likely." He took another sip of his beer.
Chelsea stood there awkwardly, confused at the sudden cold shoulder. She looked at Bonnie and the witch shrugged. Dejected, she wandered away to finally serve her other tables.
Damon's mood didn't change even after they left the restaurant. They got back to their room and Bonnie left Damon checking his cell phone to have a shower.
She sat on the floor of the shower letting the hot water rain down on her. She tried to imagine the unannounced meeting tomorrow.
Will it be a young witch, or an old witch? She thought to herself. There could be more than one, right…if she lives with other witches. Will they be hostile? I hope there aren't any kids.
She lifted her face toward the water. I hope they don't do anything stupid and make Damon kill them.
Not before she could get what she wanted from them.
She finished and dressed in her Green Day shirt. She walked out of the bathroom, combing her wet hair, and saw that her bed was a mess. Damon lay on the one closest to the door, channel surfing and texting.
"What the hell, Damon?" she asked gesturing toward the bed.
"I didn't know which bed I wanted to sleep on," he said as if he did nothing wrong.
She sighed and climbed onto the bed, still drying and combing her hair while watching what Damon had stopped on: Law and Order. Damon spared a glance at her, then looked back at his phone, then looked back at Bonnie.
She sat with her legs bent on the bed so the oversized shirt- that only went mid-thigh when she was standing- stopped right below her butt. Her legs were toned and caramel.
In what Damon would assume was a lapse of judgment, she wasn't wearing a bra; he could see her nipples poking through the shirt. And the icing on the cake?
She had bundled all her hair to the side away from him, so Damon had a clear view of her neck; a droplet of water rolled down into the collar of her shirt, accentuating the pulse from the carotid artery.
What in God's name has made her so comfortable around me? And how can I get it to stop? He squinted at the TV screen. Maybe it shouldn't stop. He unconsciously licked his lips.
"Are you hungry?" Bonnie asked him, making him snap out of his thoughts.
"What?" he said, suddenly defensive.
"Your eyes are doing the thing." She finished combing her hair and rustled it dry with the towel. It made her chest jiggle and bounce.
Damon held his breath and went to the fridge where he had put his blood bags after storing them in a medical cooler during the drive there. He took three bags out and walked across the room to the bathroom.
Bonnie watched him until he closed the door behind him. The shower turned on. Her hair finished drying before Damon finished his shower, so she tucked herself into bed, hoping she would have a restful night's sleep.
She didn't know if Damon would notice she was having nightmares and didn't want him to ask about them. But being wrapped in the scent of apple wood lulled her to sleep and kept her there until noon the next day.
They parked on the side of the road across from the house; it was dirty white and two stories with an attic. Large Willow trees sat in the yard, and vervain grew along the porch stairs.
Bonnie and Damon exchanged glances but walked up to the door. Bowls rested on the wood of the porch, spilling over with acorns. Damon pressed the doorbell.
A head of wild red hair appeared at the window to the left before disappearing once again. Damon heard quick footsteps heading toward the door and four heavy clicks of locks opening. The door split open and the pair could see a gray eye surrounded by pale flesh.
The eye continued to watch them, but they weren't dead or dying. Bonnie held her hand out for the witch to shake.
"Hi, my name is Bonnie Bennett and this is my friend Damon. Its nice to meet you."
The door opened enough for them to see her whole face. She had a long chin, freckles were sprinkled across her long, pointed nose, and she had a thin mouth set in a deep frown. Her face was heavily wrinkled. Bonnie smiled softly and stretched her hand out farther.
A small, frail hand came out of the door and lightly grasped Bonnie's. Her magic felt as if sand was falling across Bonnie's hands. The woman's lips pulled back and she hissed as she snatched her hand away, but not before Bonnie could read her.
She was only in her 70's, and yet she looked so old. She was all alone…no family or friends. And she had so much fear and sadness in her.
"If you don't want to die you'll get off of my porch right now," a voice rasped.
Damon stepped closer to Bonnie. Bonnie threw her hands up. "Raven, wait! We're not here to hurt you! I'm a witch!"
"I know what you are. I know he's a vampire. Leave now."
"If you could just give us a minute to-" Bonnie gasped, dropping to her knees and felt her heart being squeezed.
Damon clenched his chest, feeling the same attack. "Bitch…you-"
Raven stared wide-eyed at Bonnie in confusion. "I don't want anything to do with you! Leave! Now!" The door slammed shut and the locks went back into place.
The hold on their hearts was released and Damon had to support himself on the wall. "If you can lure her outside I can snap her neck."
Bonnie rubbed the spot where her heart pumped underneath; the cotton of her black pullover did nothing to ease the tenderness.
"She hasn't left that house for fifty years…I don't think it'd be easy to do." She added quickly, "Besides we can't kill her."
She picked herself up off the ground and climbed down the stairs back towards the car. She dusted dirt off of the knees of her jeans. It had gone well, besides her attacking them.
That might be a problem when she told Damon she was going to meet with her alone. They shouldn't have the conversation in a public place. "We should go back to the inn."
Damon opened the door to their room and let Bonnie inside before walking in himself. Neither of them took their jackets off.
"This was a huge waste of time if we really can't just kill her and take the grimoires," he said.
Bonnie walked halfway in between the beds and turned back to Damon with her arms folded. "Let me go back to see her without you."
Damon made a face as if she had just told him to eat shit. "Hell no."
"She didn't help because you were there. Because you're a vampire! You saw the vervain! Not all witches are trusting of them, because they don't want their lives controlled."
"And yet you haven't decided to leave us all behind yet..." he started, closing the distance between them. Bonnie's temper flared and she clenched her fists at her sides.
"That's diff-"
"Still willing to throw your life away!" he yelled in her face. These fucking people never learn!
"I'M NOT!" she shouted at him. The light on the wall behind her shattered.
They both froze, unsure of what the conversation would lead to if they kept arguing even though they were both seething. She didn't back away even though she had to crane her neck to look up at him and keep eye contact.
Her green eyes blazed vivaciously. Damon could feel heat rolling off her body in mad waves; he could see her chest heaving, close enough to slightly brush against his own.
His irritation dimmed a little and he stopped focusing on her stupid request and more on how mesmerizing she looked when she was angry.
His gaze dipped down to her lips- so full and glistening- just parted enough that hot breath blew across his face. He found himself leaning into her.
But once those baby blues managed to find a way back up to Bonnie's eyes, she felt the tension change into something else and almost got sidetracked enough to reciprocate Damon's slow advance.
She took a step back and turned away from him in one movement, missing his hand that was creeping to cup her face and a few strands of her hair caressed his fingers.
He ran his hand through his hair and dropped down onto the bed, wondering what he was just about do, kicking himself for not doing it before she turned away.
"This is something I have to do," Bonnie said to disperse the weird energy.
Ignoring what had just transpired, Damon was being impossible. She'd been enjoying his company lately, but sometimes she could feel her patience wearing thin like it did before she died. But that was the old Bonnie, and she was learning that she had to use unconventional methods to get what she wanted.
Methods that she would have never utilized if she were still the same person. No one was going to hand it to her, or move Heaven and earth so she could obtain it like people did for Elena.
She needed to accept that she was different from before. She was ready to evolve into someone more confident and powerful, selfish and ambitious. Ruthless.
She shifted closer to him so that she was almost in between his legs, knelt on the floor, and placed her hands a few inches above the knee, making his eyebrows draw down on his face.
"Please, Damon," she said. "I can get her to help. I can handle myself. Don't you trust me?"
He did trust her. She was the only one as capable as he prided himself to be. The only ever time she made stupid decisions was when Elena or Jeremy were involved. But didn't he do the same when the people he cared about were in danger?
A different kind of fierceness was in her eyes, and it made Damon want to touch her even more. She squeezed his thighs a little, almost causing him to lose his composure.
"Fine," he answered. He grabbed her by the upper arms and lifted her off the floor as he stood. "Twenty minutes."
They didn't speak on the ride back to the house. Bonnie half-expected herself to chicken out if they did, although Damon might commend her on the mission she was about to fulfill.
She wrung her hands together and couldn't keep her right foot from tapping. She ran her tongue over her top front teeth in anticipation. They turned the street and drove in front of the house.
"Only twenty minutes," Damon reminded her. She nodded her head and climbed out of the car.
She bent down and told him through the window, "Go park a couple streets away. Just in case."
He looked like he was about to protest so she flicked her wrist. The car lurched forward a few feet and she was running up the stairs to the house.
She knocked on the door and waited. Raven cracked open the door and glared at Bonnie.
"I told you I-"
"Raven, it's just me. No vampires involved."
The witch continued to look suspiciously at Bonnie, but said nothing. She took that as a sign to keep talking. "Have you ever heard of the witch Silas?"
The door opened enough so Bonnie could see half of Raven's body. She was draped in a taupe dress. "A legend. He's nothing but a myth."
"Believe me, he's not." Bonnie said in a conspiratorial whisper. She stepped closer to her, her eyes wide. "He is very real. And very alive. And nothing good has come or will come from his revival. He killed my father, for one."
Raven sized up the information Bonnie offered. She pushed the door open and Bonnie stepped inside. It felt like she had just stepped on the beach barefoot with the amount of energy Raven had built up in her home. Bonnie's palms began to sweat.
The hallway from the door went all the way to the back of the house and split in two; closer than that was a doorway to her left that connected the sitting room. Bushels of snapdragon were placed in numerous vases all along the faded beige walls.
"I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I aimed for the vampire but I haven't used that type of magic in so long. I don't know what you expect from me," Raven said.
She finished locking the four bolts on her door and led Bonnie to the left. Bonnie didn't walk farther than the doorway.
"I was hoping to study your grimoires. I'm trying to find a way to seal Silas again; it may not be Qetsiyah's spell, but there has to be something I could use somewhere."
"You know grimoires are a witch's most powerful and personal asset. Sharing that information isn't common."
"But it's not unheard of. Please, Raven. I'm trying to protect the friends that I have left. All of my family is already gone. I don't want to lose anyone else."
Bonnie knew all the right words to appeal to Raven. In the brief handshake they had shared she had learned more than her name; she had learned about the baby she lost before it was born, about her two-year child being kidnapped and never seen again, and her husband's gruesome end to a vampire Raven had failed to help.
She watched Raven falter in her resolve to keep the grimoires away from Bonnie. At the end of the day, Raven was a good person although she had so many bad things happen to her. She pursed her lips and looked Bonnie in the eyes. "Okay. I'll let you look at them."
Her kindness would be her undoing.
Bonnie smiled in gratitude and Raven offered a brief smile back. She started to walk out of the room when Bonnie grabbed her. Raven jumped at the contact.
"What are you doing?" she gasped. Then her eyes bulged.
Bonnie held fast to her forearms, sucking in Raven's power to her own body. Her eyes fluttered closed at the delectable feeling. Her magic flared in acceptance and struck out like an anaconda prepared to eat its prey whole.
The witch screamed. All of her skin began to redden and blister and bubble soon after. The witch continued to screech in anguish until the sound came to a gurgling end. Bonnie finally let go and the body dropped to the sandalwood floor, sizzling against it.
Bonnie staggered back against the doorway, reeling from the provocative pulse of the foreign power coursing through her black veins. Her knees buckled under the weight of the hedonistic pull; she hit the floor and landed on her chest, unsuccessfully catching herself with her hands.
She rose and fell like a tugboat being carried by the sea with a storm on the horizon. She writhed against the floor like a cat rolling around in catnip, tousling her hair across her face and caressing herself all down her body.
It felt so good.
The grimoires came crashing two floors down into the sitting room from the attic when Bonnie summoned them with her boosted power. She sat up on her elbows, panting and shaking. The black veins crept away; back into her body until the next time she would release them.
She took a few more moments to regain herself then unsteadily got to her feet. She raised her palm and five grimoires rose out of the rubble and toward Bonnie.
She gathered the spellbooks in her arms, maneuvered around Raven's baked corpse, and melted the locks off the door with a single touch.
Damon drove up as she closed the door. She trotted down to him and got into the car.
"I told you it was you," she said, bouncing the books. She placed four of them down at her feet and opened the one on her lap; she traced the calligraphy on the first page: Raven Coghlan. "You should listen to me more."
"Whatever," Damon said, noticing how flushed she was. "She just let you take them?"
She looked up and beamed at him and he could fill the corner of his mouth turning up of their own accord.
"She said they'd do better with a Bennet witch than a shut in."
"Diplomacy triumphs. Who knew? Let's get the fuck out of here. I miss my bourbon."
Bonnie was sitting on the couch in her usual shirt, reading one of the grimoires that she had taken and eating vanilla yogurt. She couldn't focus on the drive back, nor when they got there.
All the new energy rolling around in her- playing with what was already inside her- made Bonnie practice some of the spells she learned reading. Sometimes she'd see a bird flying across the sky and blink at it, and it'd disappear. She didn't know where she was sending it.
She showed Damon the trick with the cloud by dropping it on a car that cut them off; the driver hydroplaned and crashed into the divider. It made Damon laugh, and Bonnie giggled nervously and pretended to care about safety to hide how it amused her.
Then she placed her hands on the dashboard and concentrated really hard; the Camaro sped 200 mph, weaving out of the way of other cars.
She still wasn't reading as quickly as usual. Damon entered the room in nothing but black pajama pants. He nodded at Bonnie and made his way to the bar.
Bonnie licked her spoon and admired his body from afar; Damon could feel her staring at him and smirked, pleased that he had the same effect on her as she on him. He popped the crystalline container open and poured his drink, then looked up at Bonnie.
The smirk fell off his face as he watched Bonnie abandon her spoon and scoop up the yogurt with two fingers. She raised it to her lips as it dripped down, and stuck out her tongue at the base of her fingers; she licked all the way to the tip of the two and slid the digits into her mouth, staring at Damon the whole time. Her mouth closed tightly around them and she sucked them while pulling them back out.
When he looked down he could see a peek of her lacy, scarlet panties.
A choked sound left his throat and he grabbed his glass. He walked out of the room, stunned.
"Goodnight, Damon," she called after him.
He climbed the steps and bumped into Jeremy on the way to his room, spilling bourbon on his stomach; it dribbled down past the V of his hips and soaked into the waistband of his pants.
"Watch where you're walking," he growled.
Jeremy looked at him as if he had just said the answer to 2 + 2 was 7. "Uh, you bumped into me?"
"Then watch where I'm going," he said as he brushed pasted him.
He went inside his room and leaned against the closed door. He looked down at his stomach and wiped some of the bourbon off with his hand and licked it.
He thought about Bonnie.
He thought about her licking the bourbon right off of him. Then she'd pull his pants off of his waist and take him in one of her hands. He'd immediately feel the warmth she permanently emitted.
She'd lick him entirely, then suck on his balls as she began to work him with her hand. And he'd watch her as she looked up at him with those shining, olive green eyes and through those dark lashes. And she'd position her mouth, slightly open before his cock, still stroking him, waiting.
"Please," he'd breathe.
And those pouty lips would quirk up and she'd take him into her mouth, slowly, so he could feel every breath before she closed around him in wet warmth. She would move her head and her hand back and forth.
He'd feel the soft walls of her mouth all around him, and her tongue would swirl around his tip-out- and wrap around the shaft-in. And he'd tangle his hand in her hair as she took all of him in her throat; he wouldn't be able to stop the little thrusts or stop himself from breaking contact with her eyes and letting his head fall back against the door.
He'd come and she'd swallow the load and lick off any residue from his dick. Then she would wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and stand up against him. Even though he was the one to say please she would whisper, "Thank you."
The glass in Damon's hand shattered; blood and alcohol spilled to the floor. He looked at the mess, then looked at the bulge in his pants. He pulled the glass shards out of his hand and let them drop to the floor.
What in God's name is happening? And how can I get it to stop? He went to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it shouldn't stop.
;)
What'd you think? Bonnie has fully accepted the dark side. And now she's becoming bffls with Damon. Comments/reviews much appreciated!