Chapter 25
I don't own anything except the plot.
Elena slid silently through the door and was immediately blanketed by the thick silence in the room. She entered into a small vestibule area with dark, rich carpets and a low ceiling. There was a thick smell of polish and cleaning products in the air, which she understood when she looked at the gleaming fixtures that adorned the walls. But there was also something else; there was a spicy, burning smell, like some kind of incense, floating underneath, which would have been more at home in a dingy occult store than in the opulence of this grand suite. She quickly noticed that a cloakroom stood to her left and a bar stretched off to her right from the vestibule, both of which were slightly eerie as they stood dark and deserted. The bar and cloakroom lined the back wall of the room and, although she only had a very restricted view from the vestibule, she could tell that, ahead of her, the space opened up into a huge ballroom, the centre of which was entirely taken up by an expansive dance floor. The only light in the room came from an enormous crystal chandelier, which cast shafts of dancing brilliance across the floor, causing the wood to take on an iridescent shimmer. The dance floor was bordered by a series of tall marble pillars and, beyond these, it was surrounded by a shadowy carpeted area where Elena assumed that people would normally dine. Right now, however, the tables stood bare and forsaken, their thick linen cloths crumpled and still a little stained. It was staggeringly beautiful and presided over by a painted ceiling framed by elegant golden angels. Elena felt a gasp catch in her throat at the beauty of the room when suddenly she noticed that there was something in the middle of the dance floor. She narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what she was seeing, then her stomach clenched as she realised that the perfectly varnished surface had been hastily defaced. A large pentagram had been scored into the wood.
Fright shot through Elena at this realisation and all at once she felt achingly exposed and vulnerable. Her uneasiness multiplied when, out of nowhere, she suddenly caught a whiff of fresh blood, sharp and delicious and this was closely followed the faint, wonderful thud of a heartbeat. A pang of hunger rippled through her, terminating in a painful throb at the back of her head. There was a human here. Her senses shrieked at her to duck for cover and she felt the instinctive yearning for the safety of concealment. She obeyed this urge immediately and she dove towards the cloakroom, hiding herself under the counter. Sure enough, the second she was out of sight, she heard footsteps.
'Stay down', Matt advised grimly and he remained on his feet, watching everything that was playing out on the dance floor. 'There's someone here', he finished. Elena cursed to herself in frustration and drew herself in tightly under the cloakroom counter, but as she glanced back up at Matt, she realised that there was a large, ornate mirror on the wall at the back of the cloakroom. It gave her an almost perfect view of the rest of the room and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out when she looked into the ghastly reflection.
In the glass she saw a woman walk out onto the dance floor. She had a deep purple, velvet bag hanging over her elbow and she carried three small dishes in her hands. She proceeded to place two of them in the centre of the pentagram before scattering the contents of the third in a wide circle around the marking. She was dressed all in black but not in any kind of cliché costume. She wore neatly cut black trousers and an elegant top with a beaded neckline. Her hair was a mass of thick auburn curls and her face was made up with sophistication. Elena felt her nerves judder more forcibly as she realised that this must be Katherine's witch, although she looked more like she someone who practised business rather than magic. Elena felt a pang of bitter amusement as she thought of how Bonnie would lambast her for such stereotypical views, then it dissolved into aching sadness as she realised how long it felt since she had seen her estranged friend. Her melancholy was obliterated by fresh alarm, however, when the woman suddenly produced a long, slender dagger with a golden handle from the bag. She methodically pricked her palm with its needle sharp point and began muttering incantations under her breath as she let a drop of blood fall at each point of the pentagram. Her eyes closed purposefully, then suddenly the quiet in the room was torn apart by a loud, incoherent groan and they flew open again, flickering towards the sound.
Elena clamped her hand over her mouth and her whole body froze, her heart a dead weight in her chest. Slowly she glanced further along the lengthy mirror on the cloakroom wall and she felt tears prick the back of her eyes at what she saw. She had been so caught up with watching the witch that she hadn't realised that the mirror afforded her a view of the pillars at the far side of the room and there, tightly lashed to two of the towering marble columns, were Damon and Stefan.
Each of the brothers were sitting on the floor with their backs pressed to a pillar, their arms bent painfully round behind them and secured at the back. More ropes ran around their chests, under their arms, pinning their shoulders up and forcing them to sit straight, facing the centre of the room. The groan had come from Stefan. He was still not completely conscious following the vervain poisoning and his head lolled uselessly on his chest but Elena could tell that life was seeping quickly back into him. Damon, on the other hand, was wide awake, although his face was still contorted with pain. He glowered murderously from under lowered eyelids and watched the witch with burning intensity. She looked up sharply from her preparations, irritation flashing across her face.
'I told you to keep quiet', she snapped, her voice cold and as hard and smooth as metal, completely in contrast to her soft hair and features. She began to walk towards Stefan with insulting calmness, turning the dagger over deliberately in her hands. 'I warned you what would happen if you didn't keep quiet', she smiled perilously, her eyes glinting with malevolence. Stefan stirred some more but was not even awake enough to be aware of her threat as she advanced.
'Leave him alone!' Damon's voice suddenly rang out across the room and Elena felt like she had not heard it for an age. It filled her mind and flooded her with a new confidence and determination. She recognised the pure, flaming anger and fierce protection in his eyes and she felt a ripple of tenderness and pride as he lashed out on his brother's behalf. It reminded her, right to her core, of why she loved him so much. As soon as Damon had spoken, however, the witch whipped her head around and pointed at him with the knife.
'Excuse me?' she asked with sarcastic courtesy.
'Do you have to drug all your men to get them to play?' he goaded her, a dash of pitch black humour colouring his words. 'He's not even conscious, what's the point of threatening him', he finished darkly. Her face twisted into a cruel smile.
'No, he's not', she agreed, her eyes flashing. 'But you are.' Then suddenly Damon's head flew back against pillar, his neck straining and teeth clenching, biting back a scream of agony. Elena was instantly rocked by horrified confusion but then she saw the witches face, her eyes closed in easy concentration and she understood. She was attacking him with the brain melting psychic headache that she had seen Bonnie use before. Rage shot through her and her body actually began to move before Matt brought her back to her senses.
'Stop! If you give yourself away now then you'll be next. Then you'll never save them!' he cried, throwing his arms out defensively as if they could stop her. She had barely pulled away from the wall that she had been leaning against before she caught herself and dropped heavily to the carpet, desperately hoping that she had not made a sound. She snapped her head back up to the mirror and she saw that the witch remained oblivious.
She opened her eyes again and Damon's head dropped forward like a rag doll, unable to restrain a gasp of relief as she released him from the pain. Slowly he raised his head and met her eyes with the deadliest expression Elena had ever seen.
'You realise that pretty soon you are going to be nothing more than a tasty entrée, right?' he growled ferociously. The witch raised one bored eyebrow.
'Yes, I'm terrified', she replied sardonically and Elena could see Damon straining at his bonds, pain lancing across him face once more before he sagged back against the marble. The witch smiled with infuriating satisfaction. 'All done?' she asked pointedly and Damon only replied with a silent snarl.
'Don't Damon, it's not worth it', another voice suddenly croaked and Elena realised with a sweep of relief that it was Stefan. His head still hung weakly but he was awake and sensible of his brother's danger. The Salvatores exchanged an angry glance but Damon continued to seethe quietly, not uttering another word. The witch laughed softly.
'You should listen to your brother', she advised, gesticulating towards Damon with the knife again, then the humour drained from her face and it grew serious. 'Now be quiet', she ordered, 'I need to concentrate.' Elena kept watching in the mirror as Damon knocked his head backwards against the pillar in frustration and Stefan closed his eyes, clearly trying to recover his strength as quickly as possible. The witch finally seemed to decide that they were under control and she returned to the pentagram in the middle of the room. She sunk to the floor and sat cross legged at the centre of the pentagram, letting the bag fall to her side and pulled the two dishes that she had retrieved earlier towards her. She took a deep breath and sunk the fingers of her right hand into one dish and the left into the other, then she closed her eyes tightly and began to murmur to herself. Elena felt her hope rising as the witch quickly became lost in concentration, swaying from side to side, eyes tightly shut. Elena looked up at Matt and his face was full of apprehension but he nodded. This might be her only chance.
She looked wildly around herself and suddenly realised that the cloakroom had an entrance at either side. She stared at the opening opposite the gateway where she had entered and finally grasped that it gave access to the far side of the room and would lead her directly into the dimly lit, shadowy area beyond the dance floor. The route was peppered with tables and chairs that had been hastily cleared and these could provide cover as she made her way around the room. Elena knew that this could be her opportunity, it was her safest move and she could follow the ring of pillars right to Damon and Stefan. If she could just release them, then it would be three vampires against one and a witch. They might just have a fighting chance. Elena took a steadying breath and remembered once more all the times that people had been hurt trying to keep her safe but she was a vampire now – and she was not going to let it happen again. Screwing up all her courage, she pushed away from the counter and began to crawl along the floor towards the edge of the cloakroom.
She reached the edge and positioned herself next to the corner. Slowly she craned her head around the side and was finally able to look down the room to where Damon and Stefan were restrained. Damon's attention was concentrated on Stefan and once again Elena felt a little wave of affection as she saw how worried he was about his brother. Stefan, now far more alert, was looking back at him in return. His lip was curling slightly in defiance of his brother's concern, the hurt and betrayal clearly still burning fresh, but, beneath it all, Elena was sure that she could discern a note of gratitude and relief. Somewhere, deep down ,Stefan was glad that, if he had to be in this situation, his brother was with him. Suddenly all of that left Stefan's face though and his eyes widened with pure horror as he suddenly noticed Elena peering out from the shadows. Damon immediately recognised the alarm in his brother's face and turned his head, following Stefan's gaze. Elena's eyes met Damon's and all of a sudden she could not stop a smile splitting her face. Damon's expression was a heart wrenching mixture of dismay, relief and a longing so insistent that Elena wanted to run to him right away. She managed to control herself, however and quickly brought a finger to her lips, warning them to keep quiet. Damon nodded almost imperceptibly then his eyes flicked back to the witch in the middle of the floor, ensuring that she hadn't spotted he and his brother's surprise.
'It's okay', Matt's soft voice suddenly reached Elena's ears, startling her with its closeness as she had not noticed him moving around beside her. 'She's still absorbed in her ... chanting', he finished uncertainly. Elena nodded her gratitude to him and then returned her attention to Damon, trying to give him a reassuring smile even though her eyes were filling with tears of joy at the prospect of being safely reunited with him. He returned if with a quirk of his lip that almost devastated her with the devotion and worry that it conveyed. The words 'be careful' were practically emblazoned across his face. She closed her eyes slowly, promising him that she would and he seemed to understand, returning his attention to the witch in the middle of the floor.
'Okay', Matt instructed from above her. 'She's really into this spell or whatever she's doing. Now or never, Elena', he grinned weakly and Elena felt her face harden with resolve. She didn't hesitate a second longer before she crawled as silently as possible out from behind the counter and started the slow, silent passage towards Stefan and Damon. There was a haphazard stack of banqueting tables directly en route, their tablecloths reaching the floor, which would cover her most of the way as she made a bee line for the brothers. The quiet was pressing in on her as she moved, it seemed to be terrorising her with its silent menace, daring her to break it and give herself away. She no longer had Damon's encouraging eye contact since she had moved behind them now and they were both resolutely facing the centre of the room, just in case the witch should chance to glance up. Elena forced herself to continue, her hands and legs moving in achingly slow and shuffling steps and she desperately tried to ignore the gradually increasing throb that was growing yet again at the base of her skull.
She felt a surge of relief as she began to approach the tables, eager to dive behind them where she could move more freely for a bit. The gloriously long banquet tables would take her almost all the way to the pillar where Damon was trapped. Her movements grew slightly faster and less constrained as she neared the relative safety of the large tables but as she hurried past the first one she suddenly felt a pulling sensation at her foot and she whipped her head around to look over her shoulder in terror. In her haste she hadn't noticed that her shoe had become entangled with the cloth and given it a sharp pull. The cloth was now moving steadily in the wake of the tug that her foot had given it, sliding soundlessly over the wooden table and heading for the floor where Elena knew its billowy landing would be enough to catch the witch's attention. In a panic, she rocked wildly up and back onto her haunches and slammed a hand onto the edge of the table, stopping the cloth in its descent. Everything was still and silent for a second and she froze anxiously in her contorted position, listening for any movement from the witch in the centre of the floor, her nerves shrieking in her ears. The witch still chanted calmly, clearly riveted by her spell. Elena quietly let out a sigh of relief. Gently she began to tug on the edge of the cloth, working it back onto the table so that nothing would be amiss should anyone look over, when suddenly she saw a dark shape heading over the edge of the table to the side. Her eyes widened in dread as she realised that from her low vantage point she had never been able to see the surface of the table properly and had been unaware that a flat, silver serving tray had been left behind. The movement of the tablecloth had unsettled it and sent it teetering perilously close to the edge. As if in slow motion, the tray wobbled on the precipice of the table and Elena shook her head and let out a tiny gasp as it began to fall.
The tray dropped to the carpet, clattering against the table leg as it did so and the sound rang out across the room, a dull thud that, to Elena, might as well have been a siren. Before the witch could react, however, Damon let out an almighty and exaggerated sneeze, and this drew her attention before she could even look in the direction of the clatter. This extra few seconds gave Elena enough time to grab the fallen tray and drop back down behind the table, out of sight.
'What was that?' demanded the witch angrily, getting to her feet. Elena felt her whole body shudder with fear and her head pulse with the familiar, blossoming pain. She looked for Matt and realised that in the panic of the last few minutes, he had completely slipped her mind and was now nowhere to be seen.
'No, no, no', she thought to herself and desperately searched for a memory of Matt, bringing him to the front of her aching mind and trying to picture the planes of his face. But she was fraught with distress and the pounding in her head was getting stronger. She just couldn't force the right amount of concentration to settle on a distinct memory. Now she felt more alone than ever and she longed for Matt's selfless face to reappear.
'I said, what was that!' came the witch's voice, derailing Elena's train of thought with a fresh surge of panic. Without Matt and the mirror, Elena now felt blind but she could hear slow, ominous footsteps walking towards her. She clutched the edges of that treacherous tray and she could feel the metal bend beneath her fingers.
'What do you expect?' Damon's voice rang out gaily, that wickedly playful tone permeating his words. 'If you want peace to do a spell, pick someplace less dusty', he suggested sardonically and then he gave another theatrical sneeze, making sure to bang his foot against the floor at the beginning in an effort to replicate the sound that the tray had made earlier. Elena almost let out a snort of laughter at his impudence but she was paralysed in the silence that followed his claim. The witch said nothing for a long moment, during which Elena's heart seemed to have taken up residence in her throat. Then there were more footsteps. They moved away from her and towards Damon.
'What did I tell you about noise?' the witch hissed, clearly having rounded on him.
'Beyond my control, sorry', Damon replied in an affected, simpering tone that must have been infuriating for her. 'Won't happen again', he finished insincerely.
'You're lucky I'm not allowed to kill you', the witch hissed viciously at him. Damon didn't reply and another seemingly endless silence drew out before Elena once again heard retreating footsteps. She remained frustrated and sightless behind the table, unable to tell what was happening and coming apart with distress. Then suddenly, like the sound of the first bird in Spring, she heard the witch's humming resume and she was pierced with hope. With a judder of effort she pulled herself back onto her hands and knees and crawled swiftly along the back of the table. She reached the end quickly and slowly forced herself to peer around the edge. Damon's pillar loomed in front of her now, only a few feet away. From behind like this she could no longer see his body, just his hands that were cruelly tethered at the back of the column, tied tightly at the wrists. She was surprised to see spidery trails of blood snake across his hands and drip to the floor then she noticed the raw wounds on his skin under the ropes, a faint wisp of smoke rising from them. The ropes had been soaked in vervain she thought with a barely contained rage.
Briefly she looked out to check that the witch was still occupied with her spell and Elena was relieved to see that she now had her head thrown back to the ceiling, eyes tightly shut as her incomprehensible chanting grew louder. She glanced nervously across the distance between herself and Damon and, after a deep breath, she made the final leap and darted across the remaining space until she was safely concealed behind Damon's column, dropping to her knees again on the carpet. Although she was stuck behind him, out of his sight, she could hardly contain the joy that flooded through her at being so close to him again. She reached frantically for his hand, the only part of him that she could touch without being seen and felt a ripple of fulfilment grip her as her fingers closed on his. He clasped her hand so tightly and she felt all of his frustration, love and anxiety poured into that squeeze. She remembered how he had held her hand like this the other day in the car, hidden from her apart from the tiniest reflection in the mirror. She remembered how he had silently soothed her after he pulled the branch from her shoulder in a dark forest clearing while she stared up at the starlit sky; how he had squeezed her tightly and muttered a stream of encouragement as she was blinded with bloodlust at her transition; how he'd carried her barely conscious from the hospital the night that Klaus had taken her blood and, finally, she remembered how he had first confessed his love to her – and then forced her to forget. All the time she had known him seemed to be showered with so many moments where they had been brought so close but she had not really been able to see him clearly. He had been there all along, loving her and protecting her and now, if it was the last thing she did, she was going to protect him.
She hastily disentangled her hand from his and watched wretchedly as it still groped blindly for her for a second. She gave it one more tiny, reassuring squeeze then she yanked the bottom of her camisole over her hands and set about unfastening the ropes. It was a slow and difficult process as she couldn't get a proper grip due to the vervain and every now and again it would soak through the material, reaching her skin with a slight sizzle and she had to switch to a new patch of fabric. Damon wriggled and flexed his hands as much as possible to help her but after a few minutes she had only managed to loosen one hand. It was nearly impossible to undo the tight, burning knots and she wished fervently for a knife or any other kind of implement but eventually she could tell from the way Damon was tugging against the rope that the hand was almost free. She couldn't help but admire his strength to fight against the vervain ropes like this without so much as a gasp. It must be agony. She was just about to give the final yank that would release his hand when suddenly the witch's chanting began to crescendo until it was a frightening shout. In spite of herself, Elena let her head lean slightly to the side for a moment to see what was happening and all at once an electrical charge seemed to pass through the witch and she arched her back, howling to the ceiling as a bright flash of light engulfed her. Elena gasped and shrunk in against the back of the column, just keeping the witch in her line of vision. She felt herself pressed against Damon's hand and it instinctively latched onto her camisole protectively. Elena blinked her dazed eyes as the light disappeared and then saw that the witch had collapsed to the floor and that the pentagram had begun to glow with an eerie, supernatural light under the dancing radiance of the chandelier.
Elena's mouth dropped open in shock and apprehension while Damon and Stefan exchanged a worried glance. The witch was already hauling herself back up onto her hands, exhaustion evident in her heavy limbs. Elena watched with morbid fascination as the witch manoeuvred herself back into a sitting position and noticed that even though her body was tired, her face was jubilant. She clapped her hands together with glee and all of a sudden two columns of fire roared several feet into the air from the two dishes in front of her. The unexpected burst of flame startled Elena and she stumbled back on her knees, stifling a gasp as her balance deserted her. She wobbled for a moment, then she fell forward against the pillar, unable to stop her long, bare arms colliding forcefully with the vervain ropes that wound around Damon's upper body. They burned like molten lava and wrung a cry of pain from her lips that she could never have contained. The witch heard it immediately and snapped her head towards Damon like a bird of prey.
Elena collapsed down behind the column, making herself as small as possible. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into the marble, cursing herself for her own stupidity. She didn't dare move a muscle, knowing that only the column stood between her and discovery.
'What. Was. That?' the witch demanded, enunciating every word menacingly. Stefan and Damon looked at each other warily, then Damon shrugged his shoulders as best he could under the ropes. Elena could still see his hand struggling and forcing against the bonds just next to her face.
'I didn't hear anything', he replied with infuriating simplicity. 'Did you Stefan?'
'No, Damon, I did not', he replied innocently, picking up on his brother's tone. There was a hurried scuffle as the witch got to her feet.
'I think you're lying', she accused in a voice that was as soft as melted lead and just as deadly. Damon gave an obnoxious chuckle.
'You just set off your own fireworks display indoors. Maybe it affected your hearing?' he suggested flippantly. Suddenly Elena could hear footsteps heading towards her.
'No, it was me', Stefan suddenly cried, seeming to be almost recovered now and doing his best to divert the witch away from the pillar where Elena was hiding. The footsteps stopped and the witch became worryingly still. She seemed to deliberate for a long time and when she finally spoke her voice was wicked and taunting.
'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to hide something from me', she teased callously. Damon and Stefan had fallen quiet now, the silence terse. 'No reply to that?' the witch asked mockingly, then her feet were advancing towards Damon once again, slowly and with deliberate malice. 'Let's see', she cooed, moving dangerously close. At last Damon found his voice and he forced another contemptuous snort before the witch could round the pillar, stopping her in her tracks.
'Please', he blurted out contemptuously. 'I've been tied to this pillar for the last half an hour. So unless I'm a lot better at magic than you are, I couldn't be hiding much, could I?' he snarled, only the tiniest hint of desperation creeping into his voice. Elena curled herself up into a tighter ball behind the column. She could smell the woman's perfume now and she stifled a sob of fear as tears burned her eyes. She just couldn't believe that this was the way it was going to end. Her head was pounding and her vision was blurred, but she managed to swallow hard and maintain her silence.
'Oh, I don't know', the witch purred and Elena almost jumped at how close her voice suddenly was. She must be leaning right down into Damon's face right now. The witch paused gleefully, drawing Damon's torture out for as long as she could then she grinned. 'I think I should take a look and see.' Damon was bursting with coiled anger but he knew that the only way to play this game was to brazen it out and remain aloof.
'Go ahead', he breathed viciously, bluffing for all he was worth. The witch stood up straight and gave Damon an evil smile before she called his cards and lunged around the side of the pillar to see behind.
There was nothing there.
Damon had squeezed his eyes shut in maddening frustration, awaiting the witch's cry of triumph, but when none came, he opened them again, bewildered. He shot a look at Stefan who shrugged helplessly, his face similarly baffled. The witch walked right around the pillar and emerged at Damon's other side, by which time he had recovered his cool demeanour.
'Told you', he grinned innocently, looking up at her with wide, sarcastic puppy dog eyes. The witch's face hardened suspiciously.
'I know you're up to something', she growled to Damon's benign smile. 'Both of you!' she cried, pointing suddenly at Stefan. The tense silence lasted for another moment, then at last she let out a burst of cruel laughter. 'Enjoy this while you can', she scoffed. 'You'll not be around much longer anyway', she finished and finally she turned and headed back to the Pentagram.
Elena gave a long sigh of relief from underneath the nearby banqueting table. She had not been able to believe her luck when she had heard the woman leaning down into Damon's face, effectively restricting her vision to Damon's all consuming eyes. And Elena knew first hand how impossible they were to escape. It had been all the time that she needed to scoot back across the carpet and underneath the floor length tablecloth at vampire speed, any sound she might have made lost under Damon and the witch's argument. She listened to the witch's footsteps recede from the white linen cocoon beneath the table and, not for the first time, was grateful for the sharp clack of the witch's heels on the hard, wood floor. She pressed her fists into her eye s and tried to regain her composure even though her whole body was now quivering with tension and aching profusely. At last everything out in the ballroom fell quiet again and Elena rallied herself, eager to return to Damon. She reached for the edge of tablecloth, ready to climb back out into the shadowy periphery of the room and make her way back to him. She grabbed the fabric and lifted it, but instead of seeing the dimly lit expanse of carpet stretching back to the wall, her line of vision was filled with a dreadfully familiar face, her lips twisting into a jubilant grin. Elena felt her every muscle tense as though the ground had just fallen out from beneath her. It was Katherine.
'Boo!' Katherine whispered and then her arm suddenly shot under the table, latching savagely onto Elena's neck. Katherine yanked hard and tore Elena from the ground, her fingers digging mercilessly into her throat. The table was overturned with an almighty clatter as Elena was wrenched up into the air and then Katherine forcibly threw her out into the middle of the room. She hit the dance floor with a sickening thud and skidded across the smoothly varnished surface.
'Elena!' shouted Damon and Stefan simultaneously, unaware of what had been transpiring behind them but their faces hardened when they saw Katherine stalk out of the shadows.
'Katherine, leave her alone!' Damon raged, renewing his struggle against the ropes.
'Enough!' barked Katherine, thrusting a warning finger towards him, then she walked confidently towards the spot where Elena groaned on the floor, her whole body heavy and her exhausted mind scrabbling to comprehend what was happening. Katherine smiled down at her with thoughtful amusement. 'I can't say I'm not impressed', she began, her taunting voice slightly softened by something that sounded like a new found respect. 'How did you get out of that bathroom?' she asked curiously. Elena's lips curled into a snarl as she finally managed to heave herself into a sitting position.
'As if I'd tell you', she growled from the floor. Katherine forced an overblown pout.
'Aw. And here I was thinking that we could be girlfriends', she drawled sarcastically. 'Oh well, never mind, life goes on', she trilled gaily, running all three phases together insincerely. 'Such a shame', she went on, her face suddenly becoming very serious. 'Still, tick tock, we have a ritual to perform', she instructed. 'Why don't you go and sit in the pentagram like a good girl?'
Her tone sent a fresh spark of rage through Elena and with a colossal effort she staggered up onto her feet. She stared at Katherine, holding her eyes and felt her chance of saving them all slip further through her fingers. Yet she could see persistence in Katherine's eyes, an eagerness to progress with this ritual. She knew then that she had something that Katherine wanted and it could be her last bargaining chip.
'No', she hissed, angrily, never breaking eye contact with her doppelganger. Katherine's eyes widened with surprise and Elena felt a flush of satisfaction that she had managed to elude her expectations.
'Elena, what are you doing?' Damon pressed urgently. 'That ritual is why we're here!'
'You have to let her help you', Stefan blurted out at the same time. Elena shook her head, looking into Katherine's scheming eyes.
'No', she repeated. 'You let them go first', she ordered her doppelganger, nodding towards Damon and Stefan. All of a sudden Katherine erupted in laughter.
'That's very commendable Elena', she observed condescendingly. 'But you know I can't do that.'
'Elena come on, you might die without this, you need it', Damon told her in a tight, serious voice, tugging violently on his ropes once again.
'I know', Elena roared, 'But so does she', she pointed at Katherine who's eyes had now narrowed pensively. 'And I am willing to bet that this ritual won't run so smoothly if I'm dragged into it kicking and screaming', Elena went on, returning all her attention to Katherine. 'If you want me to do this willingly, you let them go first', she demanded. Katherine gave an amused and indulgent chuckle.
'Elena', she began in a sickly sweet voice. 'I made the mistake of underestimating you once. I don't make mistakes twice', she threatened and Elena felt her heart quake. 'Morgan!' cried Katherine, turning to the witch, finally revealing her name. Morgan seemed to understand what Katherine wanted immediately and she dug her hand into the velvet bag by her side, yanking something out. Elena didn't understand what was happening as Morgan suddenly hurled the item through the air but as Katherine's hand closed around it, she realised what it was and her heart dropped like a stone. It was a stake. Katherine snatched it and in a flash of vampire speed she was suddenly standing in front of Damon, the weapon poised directly over his heart.
'No!' shrieked Elena and darted forward, but Katherine raised the stake and looked at Elena menacingly. Elena's step faltered and she stopped dead in the middle of the floor, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She stared desperately into Damon's eyes for as long as she could bear, trying to ask him what she should do. Her defeat was like a physical pain to Damon and he tried to quirk his lips into a smile of encouragement in an attempt to ease her devastation. 'I'll do it' Elena finally finished brokenly.
'Fabulous', Katherine drawled, then she motioned towards the back of the room with her hand. The henchman whose neck Elena had broken outside the door earlier emerged from the shadows. Katherine had obviously discovered him on her way back to the ball room and re-enlisted his services. She beckoned to the hulking vampire and he moved to join her. His shirt was still soaked with blood from where he had been stabbed by the hairpin and he cast a resentful glare at Elena as he passed her. Katherine only removed her eyes from Damon for a second as the man approached.
'Here. Hold this right here', she ordered, handing him the stake. 'If she tries anything, anything at all, you stab it straight into his heart, got it?' she barked. The man nodded as he took the stake, keeping it against Damon's chest the whole time. Once Katherine was satisfied that her lackey was in control, she whirled around and was striding towards Elena. She grabbed her by the elbow and guided her roughly towards the pentagram. Elena felt the last traces of fight flitting away from her as she dropped to the ground next to Morgan the witch. Katherine also took a seat so that they were sitting in a triangle within the circle of herbs and around the two dishes that Morgan had deposited there earlier. 'Now', Katherine sighed heavily, 'let's finally get this started.'
Elena looked miserably across the room to Damon and he nodded encouragingly, a brave smile on his face but suddenly she jumped as Morgan took her hand. Elena felt a quick stab of fear as she realised that Morgan was holding the dagger again but all she did was prick her briefly in the middle of her palm and then force her hand to the middle of the pentagram, letting a drop of blood fall right into the centre. She repeated this process with Katherine and then she dropped the dagger back to her side. The three women joined hands and Morgan dropped her head, beginning to chant once again. Elena felt an increasing anxiety as Morgan's voice grew louder, the tension in her body twisting tighter and tighter as she realised that she had no idea what this ritual entailed. Suddenly Morgan's voice rose to a shout and once more the dishes between the three women erupted in ferocious bursts of flame. Then everything seemed to happen at once in a burst of chaos.
The sudden incendiary explosion took everyone by surprise. The vampire who was hovering over Damon with the stake dropped his concentration for a split second and his head instinctively snapped around towards the noise. While the henchman was momentarily distracted, Damon's hand suddenly came flying around from behind the pillar in an unexpected burst of force, his wrist still raw and bleeding. The rope, Elena realised with a surge of hope. Once she had loosened it earlier Damon must have continued to work against the slackened bonds and finally got his hand free. She could only guess at how long he had been waiting for just the right moment to strike. His hand thundered forward and seized the stake that was suspended over his heart. His movement was so fast and vicious that Katherine's henchman did not even realise what had happened until Damon had wrenched the stake away from him, expertly twirling it in his hand until the point was aimed squarely at his captor. Elena saw the look of terror grip him just a moment too late as Damon drove the stake forward, under his ribcage and directly into his heart. The huge vampire juddered and grabbed at the stake for a second, then he dropped to the floor like a stone. Elena's heart soared as she felt their fortunes swing upwards and before anybody could stop her she tore her hand out of Morgan's and lunged for the dagger that still lay by her side.
'Damon!' Elena shrieked and then tossed the knife expertly through the air towards him so that he could cut away the rest of his restraints. A smile broadened across her face as she saw Damon's hand close around the knife but, immediately, Katherine gave a roar of rage. She too ripped her hand out of Morgan's and she threw herself across the pentagram towards Elena.
'No! Don't break the circle!' screeched Morgan, but her words were lost as Katherine collided with Elena and searing charge shot through each doppelganger that blasted their heads back and their arms out from their bodies. Elena's skin began to tingle violently as if it was about to catch fire. She looked up into Katherine's face pleadingly but her panic reached breaking point as she realised that Katherine was in the same predicament, uncertainty filling her eyes. The current flowing through them seemed to grow stronger and suddenly Elena felt her body rising up from the floor until she was levitating over the centre of the pentagram, Katherine suspended directly in front of her. She glanced fearfully into her doppelganger's eyes but was unable to verbalise any question. Then suddenly there was an explosion of blinding light and everything disappeared.