Chapter eight: Late and I am sorry for that. I had it ready to go months ago, but I hadn't reread it to make sure there's only the bare minimum of weird mistakes. On a different note, thank you for your comments and support. Your words encouragement mean the world to me. I hope you all enjoy the newest chapter. I will be updating this fic regularly again. Next update: Thursday, June the twenty-first.


o.O.o


Chapter Eight, The Masquerade Ball

The vaulted ceiling of the Lockwood ballroom was enchanted by the flickering lights of the large chandelier, and the low-lit hallway leading up to it was filled with happy conversing people.

The room was furnished in a manner that was both grand and oppressive at the same time. I trudged inside with a grim expression, most of which was hidden behind the pretty dark mask I wore.

I'd worn a black dress I'd borrowed from Aunt Jenna and although it looked pretty enough it itched too.

I wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but something was. I'd noticed it from the way Damon and Alaric had been acting when they were at my home somehow keeping Elena out of the loop and I'd made the split-decision to come too.

I suppose it was a jerk move to leave Elena to take care of Aunt Jenna, who'd somehow stabbed herself in the abdomen, but I was seriously getting tired of being lied to, of being kept out of the loop.

Especially, since Elena had 'officially' broken up with Stefan. That much had been quite obvious when she returned cheeks flushed and eyes red-rimmed two days ago.

I'd not been able to figure out what exactly happened, but I had overheard Alaric on the phone with Damon and I thought that it might have something to do with Katherine Pierce. Katherine— Elena's evil twin was probably scheming someone's demise and although that alone was worrisome, I needed to see Tyler.

If Katherine and Mason were truly canoodling (even thinking the word made me inwardly cringe), how safe would Tyler be confronting his uncle?

I shook my head, took a vol-au-vent from a large platter and chewed on it thoughtfully. I'd found no trace of Tyler yet and moved across the room and out of the terrace doors, fingering my earrings.

My hair had grown enough to reach now halfway down my neck and I'd chosen warm white pearl earrings that had once been my Mum's.

They went rather well with my complexion and I thought I looked nice. Considering the open-mouthed stares I'd received I'd also made many people realise that I was indeed a girl and it made me feel rather good about myself.

Even if I would probably never again put this much effort in my appearance. I wasn't sure what charity the Lockwoods were helping trowing a masquerade ball this size for, but I would have to admit it was beautifully done, even though I doubted much money would remain with all the expenses that would need to be covered.

I took another vol-au-vent and let my eyes glide over the people. I doubted Tyler would have let his mother persuade him to wear a mask and again I started to feel nervous. Even if Mason had done nothing to him, I knew the werewolf stories drove him mad.

I understood he hated the idea of him being one and anything that was linked to it, but he couldn't just run out on me and then not return any of my calls.

Part of hoped he'd just been dodging my calls because he didn't know how to deal with the supernatural world. Another part of me hoped he wasn't — no matter how selfish it was — because— I didn't want to analyse that feeling too closely.

I rubbed my hands together, peering around the yard. The Lockwoods rarely threw underrated parties, but at least this one was, for their doing relatively small.

However, with so many faces hidden behind masks, I didn't even recognise half of the people, quite possibly not recognising Tyler's usual crowd either. Accepting a flute of champagne from a sickly-looking waiter, I blew a lock of loose hair out of my face. I scratched my index finger along the side of the mask and stepped out in the garden. For a moment I was content watching the clouds gather in front of the small sliver of the moon that was visible in the sky.

Tendrils of smoke came from the candles on the table opposite of me and music played softly, people swaying along. It was not my scene and even worse, there was no sign of Tyler. My eyes widened when I suddenly recognised Elena and Stefan dancing, rather aggressively holding on to each other and I almost dropped my purse.

I'd been sure she hadn't been planning on coming and I stared at them a few moments longer when I realised.

That was not Elena. Katherine was dressed in a figure-hugging black dress, the hem richly decorated with lace, and had a dark butterfly-shaped mask on. Taking a sip from my champagne, I carefully inched closer, even going as far as accepting a dance from a man twice my age.

His dancing was a bit off, but I didn't mind it too much as he kept any lewd commentary to himself. He twirled me clumsily and I focused on Stefan and Katherine's conversation.

Stefan was now holding a rather serene looking Aimee Bradley against his chest while Katherine's stance had become derisive.

"Bring me the moonstone, Stefan." She hissed, "Or more people will die."

I frowned at that, unsure why she and Mason didn't have the stone but had little time to wonder about it. I gasped when my dance partner jerked me back and around. He was a bit tipsy, I realised belatedly as he twirled me around and lost his grip on my hand.

I stumbled back, my arms flailing and I bumped into a shocked Elena-look-a-like. I would have probably been able to downplay bumping into her, sneaking away as fast as possible, but as I tried doing just that my bracelet got jagged into her long dark hair.

"Sorry," my dance partner unapologetically muttered and, while taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, he drunkenly stumbled away.

I forgot myself then, for a moment: "What the fuck, dude? What the actual fuck!"

Katherine grumbled from beside me and her hand wrapped tightly around my wrist. Panic surged through me and I turned half towards her, catching the lock that had snatched through the pears of my mum's bracelet. Katherine moved again and I winced slightly: "Stop moving Elena! If you don't I'll yank out some of your hair!"

"If you dare—"

"Not on purpose," I huffed scandalised and I felt Stefan brush against me, wordlessly warning Katherine, although that did little to ease my nerves. Katherine loosened her grip on my wrist and I ignored the murderous aura that surrounded her. The moment I'd managed to tease her hair free from my bracelet, I would be out of there. When I finally managed, I stepped back waved to both of them and made a beeline for the Lockwoods' ballroom.

"Hey, where do you think—" Katherine snapped but as I dared a look over my shoulder I noticed Stefan gripping her wrist, stopping her pursue of me. I'd never been more thankful to him then at that moment and I thundered inside, almost running Carol Lockwood (dressed in something that was a tad too revealing) over in my haste to getaway.

"Samantha Gilbert!" She seethed and I almost considered turning back to face Katherine's wrath.

"Oh, hello— I was looking for Tyler," I answered lamely and Mrs Lockwood's nostrils flared.

"Of course, you were." She muttered looking at me the way she had when I and Tyler had thrown over a bucket full of paint when I'd been six-years-old.

I vaguely remembered we'd been arguing about the colour on a joint drawing when I had moved around too quickly and kicked it over. However, it had been Tyler who'd spread it out over the wood and they'd started creating a dragon. It had stained a large part of the rug too and Mrs Lockwood had been furious.

Drawing her fingers in circles over her temples, she waved dismissively to her husband's office and moved away, leaving me to myself. I breathed out sharply. Another waiter passed me and I eyed the flutes filled with expensive champagne.

I shook my head and smoothed my hair behind my ear, crossing the room, when suddenly the office door slammed open. I spotted Sarah Carson coming out, dressed in a black glittery dress, and followed closely by Matt— and finally, Tyler appeared. Although looking somewhat pallid, otherwise he seemed healthy enough and I felt my face flush.

"Tyler!" I snapped and grabbed hold of his upper arm. "Why haven't you been returning my messages?"

"Oh," he retorted rather dumbly and I narrowed my eyes at him. I must have given him an expression that told him I would pummel him because he proceeded in holding his hands up slowly. "I— I just had a lot on my mind. There was some progress with my dad, but in the end, he didn't wake up anyway."

"Oh," I whispered, biting my lower-lip aggressively, "how's Mason?"

"I have no idea." He muttered before leaning into my ear. "Would you be willing to do some witchy hocus pocus to find out?"

"Uh, perhaps with some personal belongings I can find him? But it's more likely that I set you on fire instead."

Tyler snorted: "I know where the fucker is. He went back to Florida."

I frowned, my nose scrunching up in thought: "That's odd."

"Believe me, it's not. He got what he came for. Gave me the creeps with his Wolf story and did a runner. He's good at that."

"Then why is Katherine still here?" I asked, inching on my tiptoes to see if I could spot the girl that looked too much like Elena. "I just bumped into her."

"I don't know. Perhaps Uncle Mason and the vampire bitch fought?"

I inclined my head: "I suppose. That's a possibility."

"I'm sorry. I know you were a bit frantic."

I crossed my arms over my chest: "That's why you didn't call, isn't it? You feared the mama-bear treatment?"

He ran a hand through his hair: "You want a drink?"

"Desperately." I agreed and pulled the mask off my face.

I followed Tyler back to his father's study. Matt had taken a seat behind the grand mahogany desk, holding a bottle of Tequila and Sarah was swaying to a music-only audible to her. Snatching the bottle from Matt ('hey'), I huddled up in the window seat and took a large swig. It burned down my throat most satisfyingly and I ran my thumb distractedly down the neck of the bottle. Matt had gotten to his feet, waltzing along the old wooden floorboards and Sarah had found another bottle but I thought that one looked more like scotch and she held it out to Matt. I was quite glad because I didn't want to share my nice bottle of Tequila and took another swig. Tyler had different plans, leaning heavily against my right leg and holding his hand out.

"Why can't you take the nice scotch?" I asked, pursing my lips.

"Because I want the nice Tequila more," he answered simply and I allowed him to take it, draping one arm around his shoulders and leaning my chin on his head.

"How much did Matt have?" I asked because Matt Donovan's face was flushed and his pupils were blown. I had never really seen Matt drunk, never hanging with him despite being both Tyler's friends and as he drank heartily from his bottle I poked Tyler's cheek.

"Not that much," Tyler said, taking another swig. "Well, by now quite much I suppose. He's making up for it."

"Don't you think we should—" I started as Matt unscrewed the lid of the second bottle of scotch and almost tripped over his own feet, looking comically at us as if we'd caught him doing the dirty with my sister (which horrifyingly enough had happened before). Sarah had stopped dancing, right hand wrapped around the edge of the desk and she was blinking profusely.

"Where did Amy go?" She suddenly piped up and I vaguely remembered Stefan Salvatore holding Amy Bradley half an hour ago or so and I vaguely waved my hand in the direction of the window.

"Saw her outside," I stated and reached for the Tequila bottle again. "I think she was drunk."

"Like me," Matt decided and I nodded, completely agreeing with him but I flinched when he turned the bottle upside down. Amber liquid pouring over the floor, darkening the rug and Tyler pressed his bottle back in my hands.

"Oi, Matt, don't do that!" Tyler snapped, but Matt swirled around, staggering on his feet emptying most of the bottle on the floor.

"What?" Matt grinned, the lid back on the bottle, "It's a party!"

"Matt!" I started, throwing my legs over the edge of the windowsill and frowning as he threw a leering look at me. I'd never known him to be interested in me and his lips quirked.

"What? Didn't you used to like a party?" He grinned, fingering the picture frame on the desk.

That wasn't entirely untrue. Everyone knew my tendency to get into serious trouble and I inhaled, massaging my fingers across my temples.

"Yes, but spilling alcohol on a floor is not a party. I think you have enough. There is such a thing as a bad drunk."

Matt shrugged and picked the picture up from the desk: "A bad drunk… I know another bad drunk, right dad?"

"Matt!" I hissed and I jumped off the window sill but Tyler grabbed my upper arm tightly, his eyes narrowed.

"You know," Matt continued, unscrewed the lid with his thumb. "It looks like your dad wants a drink too!"

I stiffened and inhaled sharply, a jolt of shock hitting my stomach when he poured the alcohol over the frame.

"C'mon, you're being mean. His dad's in the hospital!" Sarah told Matt slowly, eyes flitting from Tyler to Matt and back again as if she was following a tennis match.

I had enough and wrenched my arm free from Tyler's tightening grip, took the three steps separating me and Matt and snatched the bottle from his hands with a glare my older sister would have been proud of.

"That's quite enough."

"Why?" Matt grinned and I had never seen him behave like this. "Everyone knows his father is a dick." And with that, he shoved me harshly. I stumbled backwards, bumping into Sarah and Tyler took a threatening step towards him.

"What's wrong with you?" Tyler hissed, reaching for the family picture of his parents, "Gimme the picture!"

Matt wasn't done and twirled out of Tyler's reach, slapping Tyler's cheek with the other hand: "Remember how your dad used to slap you around?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Just having fun," Matt smirked horribly. I'd never seen that expression on his face.

"Put the picture down man!"

Matt, however, smashed the photo onto the desk, glass tinkling and flying around in little glittery pieces.

I could only just stare in enraged surprise and Tyler stepped forward gripping Matt by the shoulders: "That's it! You have to calm your drunk ass down!"

Matt shoved him away: "Then do something about it!"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Matt?" I demanded. It was like he was purposely trying to aggravate Tyler even though I had no idea why.

Why ever, it was working, because Tyler's jaw tightened and suddenly I was hit by a painful realisation. He was not acting like himself at all. I wondered if this was how people acted when they were compelled.

"Tyler—" I started slowly but Matt surged forward, slamming into Tyler and they toppled over the floor.

Matt had never seemed the fighter to me, but he sure managed to put a few good hits in, Tyler's face snapping to the side from the force. I marched forward, energy rippling through me and Matt surged backwards.

I pressed my lips tightly together, hoping it had looked as if I'd pushed him back, and threw an apologetic glance at Tyler's tense face. The office door slammed open and Caroline Forbes appeared, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

"What's going on here?" She demanded,

He looked at Matt's slumped body, eyeing his chest, rising and falling evenly: "Well, at least you knocked him out."

"Matt failed," Sarah whispered from behind me and I slowly turned to her. "Matt failed so I cannot."

Horror curled in my belly, but it did not prepare me for the way Sarah's face had hardened in tight lines.

I wondered if this might be a compulsion as well. The robotic voice, the strange glint to her eyes, the way— her fingers had grasped a letter opener.

She lurched, throwing herself towards me, towards Tyler, who'd managed to get to his feet. She marched forward and another ripple went through me— but Tyler's arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me off my feet.

It all happened so fast, my hair flailing across my vision and a sharp pain shooting up my shoulder. Tyler growled and I dropped to the floor with a gasp while Sarah fell to the other side, hitting the floor with an almost sickening crunch.

I had frozen, absentmindedly aware of warm liquid running down my arm and dripping on the floor.

Tyler stood frozen to my right, a step or so before me and Sarah lay unmoving on her back, her head angled away from my field of vision. Dread surged through me when I failed to see the steady rise and fall of her chest.

"Is she—" I started, my voice high and squeaky and only then did I realise I had been holding my breath, the trapped air slipping past my lips in a terrified wheeze.

"No, no, no! Come on, wake up, please, wake up." Tyler dropped on his knees, crawling to her side and desperately shook her. "Sarah! Sarah, open your eyes! Come on, wake up."

Of course, she didn't and I struggled to my feet, my hand finding the cut at my shoulder. It was bleeding profusely and I let my eyes flit to a stricken looking Caroline.

Her eyes followed the steady trail of blood running down my arm and I swallowed. I didn't know what I should do.

Tyler was still shaking Sarah, denying that she was indeed not breathing and Caroline was eyeing my arm as if I was a refreshing glass of water while she was a dehydrated camper, lost in the desert. I realised now why Elena had been so worried about Caroline.

She was a vampire too.

Stamping down on the quickly gathering nausea and worry, I moved closer to Tyler, but my best friend was unapproachable, batting me away when I tried to lay a hand on his shoulder.

He was extremely upset (justified of course) and Caroline shouldered her way past me. Her face was tense and she did not look at me again, reaching out to Tyler.

"GET AWAY!"

We both jumped at the tone of his voice, but Caroline seemed determined to ignore the warning fury colouring his tone: "Tyler!"

His head snapped up. His eyes... they were golden and I inhaled sharply.

At that moment I was so glad Caroline was here because I wouldn't have known what to do. She, obviously a vampire now, began reorganising the place, pressing the Scotch bottle against Sarah's hand before leaving it there.

In moments I was left repeating a story of her fabrication; how Sarah was starting to get drunk and accidentally fell. Once the room was set to perfection (Caroline nodded to herself), Caroline found Tyler's mom and me, ignoring Tyler's stricken face, sat down next to him, wrapping my arm tightly around his shoulders.

"Everything is going to be okay!"

"How is anything ever going to be okay again?" He whispered back and I pressed my lips tightly together, not knowing how to answer that.

Carol Lockwood had just entered the office, her eyes widened and I wasn't sure if I should be slightly or incredible offended when her eyes momentarily wouldn't swerve from mine (as I was often the anchor of trouble) before her face blanched off colour.

Caroline played out her bullshit story of Sarah tripping whilst drunk in amazing detail and I couldn't do anything else than nod along. What else was I supposed to do?

When Liz Forbes arrived I staggered away to the bathroom. I took a shuddering breath before flicking the light switch, bathing me in the led light that made everyone's skin look so horrible.

My breathing came in hard, heavy pants, and I felt that same horrifying fear run through me. The same I'd felt after my parents died. Quite a non-proverbial panic attack. Tears feel in earnest and I ground my teeth together.

The lightbulb above my head buzzed loudly and slowly I looked at the reflection of my face in the bathroom mirror. The make-up I had so carefully applied had streaked, the mascara leaving a fine black line running down my flushed cheeks.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing, I managed to regain some control over my jittery heartbeat, yet I did not feel particularly calm.

Liz Forbes was taking statements of Tyler and Caroline and Carol Lockwood intercepted me: "Samantha, you need to go home."

I forgot to breath: "What, why?"

"Because the more people involved the more people who could mess up the story. Go home!" She hissed back and I blinked profusely.

"I— okay."

I curled my fingers around the hem of my dress and slowly descended the stone front steps. The evening air was chilly and ruffled my curly hair. The dried tear-streaks on my cheeks felt oddly heavy and I inhaled deeply. None of this was supposed to happen and I dug my nails into my arms.

Sarah's slack face still stared at me when I closed my eyes and Matt's unconscious from brought out a tremor running up my spine. Who could have compelled both them? Who would benefit from them attacking Tyler?

Twisting a lock of hair around my fingers, I pulled my car keys free from my bra. The red mini-cooper was parked at the other end of the Lockwoods' driveway, and I rolled my shoulders awkwardly to relieve them of the tension. In the distance, a familiar figure walked and I craned my neck.

"Elena!" I hollered, my eyes narrowing when I noticed the dark stains in her otherwise pink sweatshirt. Was that blood? "ELENA!"

She turned around, I could almost imagine her curious expression but someone was walking up to her. I wasn't immediately distressed but when the figure stepped in my sister's path and yanked her to a car, a thrill of horror and worry surged through me.

"ELENA!"

"SAM!" She yelled back and I quickened my place, stumbling on my high heels before kicking them off. I winched when my bare feet hit the gravel hard but I couldn't stop running. My breathing was already coming hard and my side ached, but I quickened my pace even more. The man had thrown my older sister in the back of a car and I guessed from the way she limply fell forward, she was out cold. I was almost there, the spell that threw people around like they weighed nothing was already at the forefront of my mind, but I was still too far away. The car was already moving and when I finally got there he sped away, leaving me struggling for breath and bloody feet.

To be continued...


A/N: this will probably be one of the only chapters I needed to watch the episode for. As much as I don't like rewriting an episode exactly as it aired, one new person won't probably destroy or change the entire line of conversations. On a different note, I certainly am planning on one new person to destroy or change the vast majority of the plotline.

Like always, let me know what you think.