Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and friends, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else is mine. No harm intended or money made from this fic.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
* Author's Note(s)
Date posted: 22 March 2003
* Timeliness! Nuff said. Thank you Juli and Moreta for speedy edits!
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~ Forty Three ~
"Elena."
She looked up when Stefan touched her elbow, as they were about to leave the 'den'. Ahead of them, Jerrick limped briskly – if such was possible – into the room where the witches were gathered, to confer with them on the matter of summoning Klaus from the spirit plane.
She let Stefan draw her aside as the other vampires drifted out. She didn't miss Samar casting a last glance back before leaving. When they were alone, she stepped up to Stefan and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. His arms closed around her as tightly and she relaxed a little. They stood that way, silently taking comfort from each other's presence for a long minute.
"I don't like this, Stefan," Elena confided at length. Her words were slightly muffled against his sweater. "I don't like Jerrick's plan at all."
"There's nothing obviously wrong with it," he said, sounding a trifle absent, as if he was preoccupied.
Elena sighed irritably. "With Jerrick, that's usually the case. _Nothing_ is _obvious_, but which is why I don't trust him. He doesn't lie outright, he interprets things to his liking and convenience," she said caustically, remembering how he had led her into believing that Stefan had safely escaped the hunter stronghold.
"Hm..." is the vague response she got. She lifted her head to gaze at him. "Something on your mind?" she asked, although she could guess. It was not a subject she was eager to broach.
"Yes...Elena, we need to talk," Stefan said and released his hold on her, steering her towards the seats they had previously occupied, with a hand on the small of her back. Angling his body so that he faced her, he took her hands between his and stared at their sandwiched fingers for a moment before blurting, "I want to be Turned."
Before she could come up with a reply, he went on. "According to Jerrick, with the Power of an Old One, there is no risk behind it," he reasoned.
"According to Jerrick," Elena emphasized sharply. She shook her head vehemently. "No, Stefan. There's got to be a catch somewhere, something he's hiding. I won't Turn you–"
"It's _my_ choice," Stefan retorted forcefully, anger shading his tone. He squeezed her fingers for emphasis.
"Mine, too. I am not going to Turn you," she returned just as stubbornly, pulling free of his grasp. "At least not this time. If all goes well and there are no hidden traps Jerrick set up, you can always join the next batch to be Turned. There are four more Old Ones to be unmade," she pointed out, her tone brooking no objection.
His stony expression remained uncompromising and tightlipped. Her brow knotting with frustration and anguish, Elena leaned forward and laid her hands on either side of his face. "I can't risk it. I can't risk _you_. Can't you see that? If anything happened to you, all this will mean nothing to me," she whispered urgently, eyes pleading with him to understand and accept her decision. Finally, his green eyes closed and he bent his head forward the inch or so it took for their foreheads to touch. He sighed and stood, pulling her to her feet and ushering her out the door. As they passed the threshold, he spoke, "What makes you think you can control who you Turn when the time comes?"
The quiet question made her stop short. Over a surge of panic, she considered the question. "I was unconscious – dying – then. This time, I won't be; I'll be in control," she assured. She kept her face forward so that he wouldn't see her confidence melt away, leaving doubts to shadow her face.
* * *
_Thwack!_
The blade flew end over end through the air to land with a dull thud on the grassy lawn. "That _hurt_!" Samar snarled up at Makoe, nursing a stinging hand.
It had been a week since the Turned left on their errand and Samar was frankly bored out of her mind. Fighting with Makoe and Stefan – and more often the former than the latter since Stefan sparred with Elena these days – got old really fast and she found her mind wandering restlessly through practice. She paid the price for the lack of attentiveness – like now.
"It was meant to," he replied imperturbably, standing off and obviously waiting for her to make her move. A growl rose in her throat as his impassiveness made her blood boil. Her already-short temper snapped.
She came at him full force, unarmed, and swung her fist at his right hand, which was holding his blade. Even as his weapon carved a similar arch as her own, she kicked him in the head, spinning in place so that momentum added power to the hit. She placed a foot none too gently in the middle of his chest as he lay on the ground and glared down at him.
Makoe grabbed her foot, lifting it slightly to relieve the pressure she was applying to his chest. In response, she ground her boot down harder. "Now you see how anger is useful in a fight – it adds force to your blows," Makoe managed to say calmly, given his disadvantageous position. Samar rolled her eyes at the educational tone he took. Which turned out to be a mistake. The grip on her foot tightened and she found herself somersaulting through the air like her sword had and then landing with spread-eagled on her back, the wind knocked out of her.
She lay there for barely a moment before scrambling back to her feet. Her hand touched a slender branch and her fingers closed around it. It was thin and probably brittle, but it was wood. ::Makoe,:: she heard Leon say censoriously. He was sitting with his back against one of the trees, Stefan's laptop across his thighs. She barely paid him any attention as, jaw set and eyes narrowed, she ran at Aodhan, ready to deal him a permanent scar for that trick.
He sidestepped at the last minute, timing his move perfectly to catch her hand and jerk her up short, wrenching her wrist painfully. He reached out and grabbed her other arm from behind, imprisoning her and twisting the hand holding the stick cruelly so that it prodded her own throat. "Now," he said in her ear, still coolly instructional, "You see how anger can be used against you." He moved her right wrist slightly and the stick scratched her neck, not quite breaking skin. "Remember this, Samar. Your temper must be channeled or you'll lose your wits and possibly your life."
::Makoe!:: Leon chided again, more forcefully. ::That's enough.::
Samar thought she heard a sniff that might – with a bit of imagination – have been a chuckle before Makoe let go of her. When she turned, she found him looking at Leon, probably having a private telepathic conversation. Makoe shrugged, abruptly opening the conversation to her, ::It's a good way to keep her out of mischief.::
She bristled and raised the stick again. Leon shot her a quelling look, but his 'path was directed at Makoe. ::Why don't you teach her to use the high way instead?:: His eyes went up to the canopy of thick branches overhead. ::It seems a good place for it.:: The chocolaty eyes fell back to her. ::And she seems to want to play with fire,:: he added, eyeing the stick in her hand.
"What high way?" she demanded loudly, annoyed at being discussed to as if she wasn't present.
Makoe's cold eyes went from Leon to her and back before he nodded once curtly. ::But only for a while; Tristan wants some help with the Lotus.:: 'Again,' was left unsaid but hung in the air making Samar's scowl deepen. She resisted the urge to protest her innocence about the condition of the car.
Aodhan walked towards the nearest tree and promptly disappeared among the branches. Confused and impatient, Samar crossed her arms and tapped a foot pointedly.
::This is what we call the 'high way',:: Makoe told her and she saw him leaning against a low branch five feet from where he had disappeared. Her eyes went wide as she stared first at him and then up at the leafy roof above. She hadn't even noticed any telltale leaves rustling!
Delighted at this new game, she ran towards him. But he disappeared again before she reached him. Frowning generally up at the tree, she placed her fists against her hips. "You're supposed to _teach_ me?" she reminded with exaggerated patience.
"So I am," he said from directly behind her. She whirled to meet his impassive face. His dark eyes slid past her and he strode up to a random tree then turned to look at her pointedly. Obeying the silent signal, she joined him. "Choose a tree with branches you can easily reach. As you progress, you can move to more challenging trees," he began, placing one hand on the lowest branch and pulling himself up easily. She mimicked his movements, silently glad that he wasn't that much taller than she.
As they climbed, she noticed that he moved soundlessly while her actions tended to thrash the branches and generally cause a ruckus and a rain of leaves. ::The trick is to move smoothly and gradually. Don't put your entire weight on a limb at once; increase it gently. Do the same when you step off a branch, just in reverse,:: he advised. ::But don't worry about that too much. It'll come with practice. Concentrate more on moving _between_ trees for now.::
By then, they were lost among the boughs. Samar, her arms and legs unused to the strain, paused to watch Aodhan move out towards the edge of one branch and transfer his weight onto a limb from another tree. He made it look effortless. Her lack of activity made Samar suddenly aware that she was surrounded by wood. If she fell...
::What are you waiting for?:: Makoe's question drew her out of her frightening train of thought. He was crouched close to the trunk of the next tree. When he saw he had her attention, he indicated the overlapping branches with a jerk of his head. ::The branches won't bear our combined weight.::
With her new sensitivity to the all-prevalent presence of wood around her, Samar hesitated briefly before inching out further onto the branch. The going was awkward since she was caught between walking across the branch upright and crawling along it on her belly. It began to bend under her weight and she stiffened. And Makoe, the buffoon, just sat there and watched. Some teacher.
Meeting his dispassionate eyes, she gritted her teeth and focused on getting across and _not_-thinking about the distance between her current position and the ground. It took his weight; it could bear hers. She grabbed hold of the opposite branch and inched her body as far up it as she could before setting her feet on it as well. Bearing her full weight, it sagged alarmingly and she froze in horror. Then it stopped and swayed a little and she dared to move forward. ::If a branch is dropping under you, the best thing to do is to move away from the edge as quickly as possible,:: Makoe instructed.
::Now you tell me. Thanks a lot,:: she said acidly. As usual, her deprecation had no effect on him. As usual, it infuriated her more. She finally made it to where branch met tree trunk and gingerly sat down, feeling drained after the adrenaline rush of the crossing. Climbing a tree to get a good view was very different from 'taking the high way', she realized now.
Makoe turned, standing up and stepping up to the next branch, making his way around the tree trunk. ::Higher up is safer from pursuit, but more dangerous as the branches are thinner,:: he lectured. He glanced back at her suddenly, catching sight of the face she was making him. She saw his eyelids drop minutely then he continued to climb, doubling the pace. She struggled to keep up but the pace he set was impossible to match. ::What do you think you're _doing_?" she demanded, watching him leap – no, more like fly – from one branch to another. ::I can't do _that_!::
::Just making sure you're kept busy enough to focus on what you're supposed to be learning, rather than being impudent,:: he said, not even bothering to look back to see how she was keeping up. It wasn't long before he disappeared completely from sight.
Leaving her stranded in a sea of deadly wood.
Winded, she carefully eased back against a tree trunk, dangling her feet down on either side of the thick branch. Fuming at Makoe's high-handed tactics, she considered calling for Leon, but discarded the idea out of pride. When her ire had subsided, she set her jaw stubbornly. She would learn how to 'take the high way' and anything else they threw at her. And then, they would never be able to leave her behind again.
She started to climb and crawl again, cautiously at first, then with growing confidence. After a while, it became an automatic action and her mind began to wander. Unsurprisingly, she found herself struggling with the question of her vampirism, something that had been cropping up in her mind all week.
She had always thought that she hated being a vampire but she acknowledged now that it would be difficult going back to being human. It would be like being swathed in gauze, all her senses dulled. Yet, to be human again, and to be able to lead a normal life again...
She had not spoken to Tristan about Turning and honestly did not know how he felt about it. Did he want to stay a vampire? If so, if she became Turned, would they stay together or would they part ways? And the others? That Stefan wanted to be Turned was as obvious as the sun on a summer day, but what about Leon and Makoe? Neither had said anything one way or another. Come to think of it, she had never found out how either of them had become vampires in the first place.
Samar didn't know how long she prowled the wooden paths high above the ground before voices penetrated her musings. By now comfortable in that environment, she easily dropped to a level where she could see the ground. An absent part of her mind noted that a human would likely not be able to do what she was doing. And then all her attention was focused on the scene on the forest floor.
A petite human that had all the earmarks of a vampire hunter was advancing on Makoe, a short bamboo blade in each hand.
Makoe, unarmed, stayed out of reach, countering her step for step but not attacking. Samar knew the vampire could take her out in two minutes. Since he hadn't, she guessed that he was playing with her. Well, if she ruined his fun, it was only just payback for his abandoning her like that, wasn't it? Makoe must have sensed her presence because he sent sternly, ::Samar, don't you dare–!:: She ignored him and moved.
Careful now to be soundless lest a rustle betray her presence, she maneuvered until she was directly above the hunter – and dropped on top of her. ::No!!:: Makoe's mental shout sounded as she hit the petite human feet first, knocking her to the ground. Before the human could recover, Samar bent and snatched one of her knives out of her hand. Then she stepped away, standing between the huntress and Makoe. ::Payback,:: she told him maliciously. Her back was turned, so she didn't see the amazing expression of horror and panic that momentarily transformed his face as she leapt down at the blade-holding huntress.
"Why don't you try someone your own size first?" she asked sweetly to the huntress who was getting to her feet a little unsteadily. ::Why don't you go help Tristan with his _car_?:: she added to Makoe spitefully. ::I'll take care of this.::
It was only after then that she saw the tall, gorgeous blonde coolly pointing a gun at her. ::Oh,... flapjacks.:: She sent frantically to Stefan, Leon and Tristan, ::Hunters! Get here!::
"You lousy trickster, you planned that," the petite one accused Makoe.
"Let's keep credit where it's due, here," Samar retorted dryly, partially playing for time, partially indignant. "He didn't plan anything," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in." She looked from one huntress to another. "Though why he's still standing with odds like this, I haven't a clue." ::Get here – quick!:: she repeated. She received a gamut of telepathy from all three vampires, mostly feelings of urgency and bemusement.
"This isn't a normal hunt," the brown-haired knife-user said flatly. "I have a score to settle with him." She flipped her remaining knife into her right hand and pointed it at Makoe. "From our previous encounter."
"You fought with him before and you're still alive?" Samar said disbelievingly. Well, if this was a grudge match, then the one with the gun would not be shooting anyone unless her colleague got into trouble. Or so Samar hoped. She turned her head to look at Makoe out of the corner of her eye. "How come?"
"I thought she was cute," he said facetiously.
The response was so completely out of character that Samar almost turned her back on the huntress to stare at him outright. And a small part of her jumped curiously at the response. The huntress looked just as nonplussed.
"Get real!" she scoffed. At that, the slayer looked offended. "A human? A _hunter_?" The blonde had lowered her gun, but Samar didn't think it would make a difference if she decided to shoot anyone. However, the disbelieving grin on her face led Samar to think that she was slightly off her guard. ::Wait a minute. Isn't _she_ the one who was with Elena the night Jerrick came and got us?:: she asked Makoe.
::None other.:: "Why else do you think she's alive?" he asked aloud. Was he playing along, buying time, too? Or did he really mean it?
It was a good thing the others arrived then, almost simultaneously from different directions, because Samar couldn't think of a response to his rhetoric question.
It was a good thing that Stefan had brought Elena with him.
"Taura?" she exclaimed. She spotted the blonde. "Karen! What are you doing here?"
"Elena," the mousy brown-haired one returned, her expression lighting up briefly then her face fell. "Nothing much. Just...just..."
"Just wanting to beat the crap out of that one," Karen said dryly, nodding at Makoe, "Since he's the one who broke _both_ her arms _and_ her legs when Nigel Emery attacked the mansion." Her candor earned her a poisonous look from her colleague.
"She's lucky it wasn't her neck," Leon murmured, his tone light for all that it was the honest truth. He had Stefan's laptop shut and tucked under one arm.
"Oh, no, it seems he's going for her heart now," Karen went on, obviously very amused by the situation.
"Beg your pardon?" Leon asked, looking stumped. Karen just continued to grin, and Leon's gaze went questioningly to the silent Makoe.
Now Samar _did_ turn to face him, leaving the others to guard her from the slayers. "Repeat what you said," she demanded. "Go on."
"What about?" he hedged.
"About how she survived an encounter with you," Samar stated flatly, not letting him off the hook.
"I said she's cute," Aodhan repeated, sounding almost pleasant. He instantly became the focus of three other disbelieving stares.
The flustered subject of his comment made a mad, desperate grab for the reins of the situation. "I came to challenge you," she stated, apparently trying to salvage her purpose and change the topic at the same time.
Makoe looked at her measuringly for a long moment. Samar fancied quite a few breaths were held as the seconds ticked by there.
"As the challenged, I believe it is my right to choose the weapons," he said finally. His tone and expression were cool, emotionless; he was the Makoe Samar knew once more.
The huntress looked like she tasted something sour as she nodded.
"Well, whatever you choose, the outcome is rather predictable," Leon observed neutrally. Elena looked worried but said nothing. Tristan was scowling blackly, not liking the situation at all. Or perhaps he was just disgruntled at being pulled away from his 'baby'. Makoe continued to watch the petite slayer and Samar continued to look at him.
"Let's make this interesting. Something where the playing field is level." Taura's lips began to curl derisively. "Cars. A race," Makoe finished. Tristan scowl disappeared as he grinned unpleasantly. Leon shook his head. ::And you want to even the odds:: he said. Apparently, neither vampire thought the hunter stood much chance of winning.
Then again, neither did Samar. Taura, however, quirked an eyebrow. "And the stakes?" she asked haughtily.
"If you win, you'll get your fight with whatever conditions you stipulate."
"And if you win?" she prompted.
"I get a date," Makoe replied offhandedly. Samar's jaw dropped and she felt a funny sinking feeling in her stomach. She stared at Makoe as if he'd grown the proverbial second head.
"A date. Yeah right." Samar jerked her gaze away to see the brown-haired girl's lips curled contemptuously. The expression raised Samar's hackles. "I'll take you out for stake." Taura smirked.
"Please. Puns are the lowest form of humor," Makoe parried easily.
"You would know, I'm sure."
Makoe folded his arms and looked at her impassively. "You wanted to challenge. Do we deal or not?"
The brown-haired girl sniffed a disdainfully. "What have you got?" The vampire proceeded to reel off a paragraph or so of jargon that meant nothing to Samar but the huntress apparently understood it for she nodded at intervals and sometimes a tiny expression of appreciation would light her eyes.
"We're about equal," she agreed grudgingly. "Where and when?" she asked. Samar noted that Makoe did not ask for the specifications of _her_ car. ::Been snooping in her head, have you?:: she asked. The fiend didn't bother to reply.
Makoe named a stretch of road in downtown Seattle. "Tomorrow night, 11:20," he added. Traffic would be thin at that time, but the road would not be completely empty. Taura nodded firmly once and Samar watched their eyes meet and lock. "See you then." The slayer broke the stare down and her attention fastened on Samar. She cleared her throat pointedly and held out a hand, silently demanding her blade back. Samar tossed it to her and was annoyed when it was caught neatly before the short huntress turned to Elena.
"You owe me a story," she reminded. Elena looked bemused, but a small smile of pleasure played around the corners of her mouth at the short girl's words. Samar guessed that she was happy to see these two hunters. The blonde pushed away from the tree she had been leaning against with one foot and they both approached Elena. "How's the shoulder?" Samar heard the taller slayer ask as the trio walked away, leaving the vampires staring after them.
Samar eyed Makoe, who was watching the 'challenger' walk away. She strode up to him and shoved him, face set in a belligerent expression. "You jerk!" Well, at least he wasn't staring after that girl anymore. His dispassionate eyes fastened on her, his waiting stillness prodding her into explaining the outburst.
"Oh you...you..." She threw her hands up in the air and stormed off towards their cabin.
"What was _that_ about?" Leon asked.
"What makes you think I know?" Makoe countered.
"With Samar, there doesn't always have to _be_ a reason," Tristan said acidly.
"I thought female vampires didn't get PMS anymore," Leon murmured, careful to keep his voice low. If Samar heard that comment, he would pay very dearly. He watched her go and if there was a note of worry in his voice, it was almost too faint to detect. "She's growing up," he said to no one in particular.
"Samar? Come on, she still looks thirteen or something!" Tristan scoffed.
"How old was she when she was changed?" Stefan asked curiously.
"She was – is – eighteen," her brother said shortly. "Been eighteen for the past twenty years." Stefan looked poleaxed. Leon, catching that look, nearly smiled. "Eighteen's pretty grown up, I'd say," he commented casually. "More than ready to start dating."
Tristan snorted. "She's still a kid. And besides, who's going to date _her_. It would be like begging to be torn to tiny shreds slowly."
"Who indeed?" Leon asked rhetorically.
Tristan seemed to dismiss the episode, missing the looks Makoe and Stefan gave Leon. "Can I join in the fun tomorrow night?" he asked Makoe, a glint of anticipation in his manic, hazel eyes.
Black eyes flicked at him briefly. "It's a grudge match. It'll be strictly between the two of us, I should think." One side of Tristan's face curled nastily but Makoe ignored the expression of displeasure, walking off in the direction Samar had taken. "If you still want me to take a look at your brake pads, come on," he said with a slight turn of his head.
* * *
"I almost wish you hadn't told me all that," Taura said, a trifle rueful as she picked up her glass of juice. "Makes me almost feel sympathetic towards the leech."
The three of them were seated at one of the handful of tables set near the kitchen of the main building. Elena mock-frowned at the use of the derogatory name, only half in jest. She had just finished telling the hunters about Stefan's past. "How on earth did you manage to get in?" she asked, changing the subject. "I would have thought the entire place was warded."
"Jerrick gave me the address before you left Crystal's," Taura told her, taking a sip of her drink. "I guess maybe he thought some of the hunters would come over to your side when Crystal pushed them too far," she added, then eyed Elena when her face closed at this bit of information. "Still got some trouble between you, huh?"
"Hm?" Elena asked vaguely.
"After Antalya, it was pretty obvious that everything wasn't peachy," Taura all but snorted. On the armchair beside her, Karen shifted, drawing Elena's eye. The markswoman was still smiling faintly. Taura followed Elena's gaze and glowered at Karen's expression. "Quit it!" she snapped.
Karen only chuckled. "A vampire _not_ killing you because he thinks you're cute – and then asking you out on a date when you try and beat him up. That's got to be a first."
"I said cut it out. Drop it. Which part of that don't you understand?" the petite huntress railed at her taller friend. "He's not getting any date. I'm going to win that race," she set down her glass and pulled out one of her bamboo blades. "And then I'm going to tie him to a stake and roast him over a low flame," she vowed slamming the hilt of the dagger on the table to emphasize her resolve.
Karen snickered causing Elena to smile waywardly. Her smile grew into a grin, and then a chuckle. The two blondes shared a laugh while Taura glared at them, motionless in her dignity, until the sound of a car pulling up front encroached on their hearing.
Elena rose quickly, and the two hunters trailed her from the airy country-type kitchen to the front porch. They flanked her, hands instinctively going to weapons at the sight of strange vampires. Attuned to their movements, Elena raised her hand in a gesture to wait.
From the driver's seat, Eiran emerged, smiling a little. As they stood there, the sound of another car approaching could be heard.
The Turned were back.
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* If you read this, if you like it, if you hate it, please let me know! Your feedback _really does_ makes a difference.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
* Author's Note(s)
Date posted: 22 March 2003
* Timeliness! Nuff said. Thank you Juli and Moreta for speedy edits!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
~ Forty Three ~
"Elena."
She looked up when Stefan touched her elbow, as they were about to leave the 'den'. Ahead of them, Jerrick limped briskly – if such was possible – into the room where the witches were gathered, to confer with them on the matter of summoning Klaus from the spirit plane.
She let Stefan draw her aside as the other vampires drifted out. She didn't miss Samar casting a last glance back before leaving. When they were alone, she stepped up to Stefan and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. His arms closed around her as tightly and she relaxed a little. They stood that way, silently taking comfort from each other's presence for a long minute.
"I don't like this, Stefan," Elena confided at length. Her words were slightly muffled against his sweater. "I don't like Jerrick's plan at all."
"There's nothing obviously wrong with it," he said, sounding a trifle absent, as if he was preoccupied.
Elena sighed irritably. "With Jerrick, that's usually the case. _Nothing_ is _obvious_, but which is why I don't trust him. He doesn't lie outright, he interprets things to his liking and convenience," she said caustically, remembering how he had led her into believing that Stefan had safely escaped the hunter stronghold.
"Hm..." is the vague response she got. She lifted her head to gaze at him. "Something on your mind?" she asked, although she could guess. It was not a subject she was eager to broach.
"Yes...Elena, we need to talk," Stefan said and released his hold on her, steering her towards the seats they had previously occupied, with a hand on the small of her back. Angling his body so that he faced her, he took her hands between his and stared at their sandwiched fingers for a moment before blurting, "I want to be Turned."
Before she could come up with a reply, he went on. "According to Jerrick, with the Power of an Old One, there is no risk behind it," he reasoned.
"According to Jerrick," Elena emphasized sharply. She shook her head vehemently. "No, Stefan. There's got to be a catch somewhere, something he's hiding. I won't Turn you–"
"It's _my_ choice," Stefan retorted forcefully, anger shading his tone. He squeezed her fingers for emphasis.
"Mine, too. I am not going to Turn you," she returned just as stubbornly, pulling free of his grasp. "At least not this time. If all goes well and there are no hidden traps Jerrick set up, you can always join the next batch to be Turned. There are four more Old Ones to be unmade," she pointed out, her tone brooking no objection.
His stony expression remained uncompromising and tightlipped. Her brow knotting with frustration and anguish, Elena leaned forward and laid her hands on either side of his face. "I can't risk it. I can't risk _you_. Can't you see that? If anything happened to you, all this will mean nothing to me," she whispered urgently, eyes pleading with him to understand and accept her decision. Finally, his green eyes closed and he bent his head forward the inch or so it took for their foreheads to touch. He sighed and stood, pulling her to her feet and ushering her out the door. As they passed the threshold, he spoke, "What makes you think you can control who you Turn when the time comes?"
The quiet question made her stop short. Over a surge of panic, she considered the question. "I was unconscious – dying – then. This time, I won't be; I'll be in control," she assured. She kept her face forward so that he wouldn't see her confidence melt away, leaving doubts to shadow her face.
* * *
_Thwack!_
The blade flew end over end through the air to land with a dull thud on the grassy lawn. "That _hurt_!" Samar snarled up at Makoe, nursing a stinging hand.
It had been a week since the Turned left on their errand and Samar was frankly bored out of her mind. Fighting with Makoe and Stefan – and more often the former than the latter since Stefan sparred with Elena these days – got old really fast and she found her mind wandering restlessly through practice. She paid the price for the lack of attentiveness – like now.
"It was meant to," he replied imperturbably, standing off and obviously waiting for her to make her move. A growl rose in her throat as his impassiveness made her blood boil. Her already-short temper snapped.
She came at him full force, unarmed, and swung her fist at his right hand, which was holding his blade. Even as his weapon carved a similar arch as her own, she kicked him in the head, spinning in place so that momentum added power to the hit. She placed a foot none too gently in the middle of his chest as he lay on the ground and glared down at him.
Makoe grabbed her foot, lifting it slightly to relieve the pressure she was applying to his chest. In response, she ground her boot down harder. "Now you see how anger is useful in a fight – it adds force to your blows," Makoe managed to say calmly, given his disadvantageous position. Samar rolled her eyes at the educational tone he took. Which turned out to be a mistake. The grip on her foot tightened and she found herself somersaulting through the air like her sword had and then landing with spread-eagled on her back, the wind knocked out of her.
She lay there for barely a moment before scrambling back to her feet. Her hand touched a slender branch and her fingers closed around it. It was thin and probably brittle, but it was wood. ::Makoe,:: she heard Leon say censoriously. He was sitting with his back against one of the trees, Stefan's laptop across his thighs. She barely paid him any attention as, jaw set and eyes narrowed, she ran at Aodhan, ready to deal him a permanent scar for that trick.
He sidestepped at the last minute, timing his move perfectly to catch her hand and jerk her up short, wrenching her wrist painfully. He reached out and grabbed her other arm from behind, imprisoning her and twisting the hand holding the stick cruelly so that it prodded her own throat. "Now," he said in her ear, still coolly instructional, "You see how anger can be used against you." He moved her right wrist slightly and the stick scratched her neck, not quite breaking skin. "Remember this, Samar. Your temper must be channeled or you'll lose your wits and possibly your life."
::Makoe!:: Leon chided again, more forcefully. ::That's enough.::
Samar thought she heard a sniff that might – with a bit of imagination – have been a chuckle before Makoe let go of her. When she turned, she found him looking at Leon, probably having a private telepathic conversation. Makoe shrugged, abruptly opening the conversation to her, ::It's a good way to keep her out of mischief.::
She bristled and raised the stick again. Leon shot her a quelling look, but his 'path was directed at Makoe. ::Why don't you teach her to use the high way instead?:: His eyes went up to the canopy of thick branches overhead. ::It seems a good place for it.:: The chocolaty eyes fell back to her. ::And she seems to want to play with fire,:: he added, eyeing the stick in her hand.
"What high way?" she demanded loudly, annoyed at being discussed to as if she wasn't present.
Makoe's cold eyes went from Leon to her and back before he nodded once curtly. ::But only for a while; Tristan wants some help with the Lotus.:: 'Again,' was left unsaid but hung in the air making Samar's scowl deepen. She resisted the urge to protest her innocence about the condition of the car.
Aodhan walked towards the nearest tree and promptly disappeared among the branches. Confused and impatient, Samar crossed her arms and tapped a foot pointedly.
::This is what we call the 'high way',:: Makoe told her and she saw him leaning against a low branch five feet from where he had disappeared. Her eyes went wide as she stared first at him and then up at the leafy roof above. She hadn't even noticed any telltale leaves rustling!
Delighted at this new game, she ran towards him. But he disappeared again before she reached him. Frowning generally up at the tree, she placed her fists against her hips. "You're supposed to _teach_ me?" she reminded with exaggerated patience.
"So I am," he said from directly behind her. She whirled to meet his impassive face. His dark eyes slid past her and he strode up to a random tree then turned to look at her pointedly. Obeying the silent signal, she joined him. "Choose a tree with branches you can easily reach. As you progress, you can move to more challenging trees," he began, placing one hand on the lowest branch and pulling himself up easily. She mimicked his movements, silently glad that he wasn't that much taller than she.
As they climbed, she noticed that he moved soundlessly while her actions tended to thrash the branches and generally cause a ruckus and a rain of leaves. ::The trick is to move smoothly and gradually. Don't put your entire weight on a limb at once; increase it gently. Do the same when you step off a branch, just in reverse,:: he advised. ::But don't worry about that too much. It'll come with practice. Concentrate more on moving _between_ trees for now.::
By then, they were lost among the boughs. Samar, her arms and legs unused to the strain, paused to watch Aodhan move out towards the edge of one branch and transfer his weight onto a limb from another tree. He made it look effortless. Her lack of activity made Samar suddenly aware that she was surrounded by wood. If she fell...
::What are you waiting for?:: Makoe's question drew her out of her frightening train of thought. He was crouched close to the trunk of the next tree. When he saw he had her attention, he indicated the overlapping branches with a jerk of his head. ::The branches won't bear our combined weight.::
With her new sensitivity to the all-prevalent presence of wood around her, Samar hesitated briefly before inching out further onto the branch. The going was awkward since she was caught between walking across the branch upright and crawling along it on her belly. It began to bend under her weight and she stiffened. And Makoe, the buffoon, just sat there and watched. Some teacher.
Meeting his dispassionate eyes, she gritted her teeth and focused on getting across and _not_-thinking about the distance between her current position and the ground. It took his weight; it could bear hers. She grabbed hold of the opposite branch and inched her body as far up it as she could before setting her feet on it as well. Bearing her full weight, it sagged alarmingly and she froze in horror. Then it stopped and swayed a little and she dared to move forward. ::If a branch is dropping under you, the best thing to do is to move away from the edge as quickly as possible,:: Makoe instructed.
::Now you tell me. Thanks a lot,:: she said acidly. As usual, her deprecation had no effect on him. As usual, it infuriated her more. She finally made it to where branch met tree trunk and gingerly sat down, feeling drained after the adrenaline rush of the crossing. Climbing a tree to get a good view was very different from 'taking the high way', she realized now.
Makoe turned, standing up and stepping up to the next branch, making his way around the tree trunk. ::Higher up is safer from pursuit, but more dangerous as the branches are thinner,:: he lectured. He glanced back at her suddenly, catching sight of the face she was making him. She saw his eyelids drop minutely then he continued to climb, doubling the pace. She struggled to keep up but the pace he set was impossible to match. ::What do you think you're _doing_?" she demanded, watching him leap – no, more like fly – from one branch to another. ::I can't do _that_!::
::Just making sure you're kept busy enough to focus on what you're supposed to be learning, rather than being impudent,:: he said, not even bothering to look back to see how she was keeping up. It wasn't long before he disappeared completely from sight.
Leaving her stranded in a sea of deadly wood.
Winded, she carefully eased back against a tree trunk, dangling her feet down on either side of the thick branch. Fuming at Makoe's high-handed tactics, she considered calling for Leon, but discarded the idea out of pride. When her ire had subsided, she set her jaw stubbornly. She would learn how to 'take the high way' and anything else they threw at her. And then, they would never be able to leave her behind again.
She started to climb and crawl again, cautiously at first, then with growing confidence. After a while, it became an automatic action and her mind began to wander. Unsurprisingly, she found herself struggling with the question of her vampirism, something that had been cropping up in her mind all week.
She had always thought that she hated being a vampire but she acknowledged now that it would be difficult going back to being human. It would be like being swathed in gauze, all her senses dulled. Yet, to be human again, and to be able to lead a normal life again...
She had not spoken to Tristan about Turning and honestly did not know how he felt about it. Did he want to stay a vampire? If so, if she became Turned, would they stay together or would they part ways? And the others? That Stefan wanted to be Turned was as obvious as the sun on a summer day, but what about Leon and Makoe? Neither had said anything one way or another. Come to think of it, she had never found out how either of them had become vampires in the first place.
Samar didn't know how long she prowled the wooden paths high above the ground before voices penetrated her musings. By now comfortable in that environment, she easily dropped to a level where she could see the ground. An absent part of her mind noted that a human would likely not be able to do what she was doing. And then all her attention was focused on the scene on the forest floor.
A petite human that had all the earmarks of a vampire hunter was advancing on Makoe, a short bamboo blade in each hand.
Makoe, unarmed, stayed out of reach, countering her step for step but not attacking. Samar knew the vampire could take her out in two minutes. Since he hadn't, she guessed that he was playing with her. Well, if she ruined his fun, it was only just payback for his abandoning her like that, wasn't it? Makoe must have sensed her presence because he sent sternly, ::Samar, don't you dare–!:: She ignored him and moved.
Careful now to be soundless lest a rustle betray her presence, she maneuvered until she was directly above the hunter – and dropped on top of her. ::No!!:: Makoe's mental shout sounded as she hit the petite human feet first, knocking her to the ground. Before the human could recover, Samar bent and snatched one of her knives out of her hand. Then she stepped away, standing between the huntress and Makoe. ::Payback,:: she told him maliciously. Her back was turned, so she didn't see the amazing expression of horror and panic that momentarily transformed his face as she leapt down at the blade-holding huntress.
"Why don't you try someone your own size first?" she asked sweetly to the huntress who was getting to her feet a little unsteadily. ::Why don't you go help Tristan with his _car_?:: she added to Makoe spitefully. ::I'll take care of this.::
It was only after then that she saw the tall, gorgeous blonde coolly pointing a gun at her. ::Oh,... flapjacks.:: She sent frantically to Stefan, Leon and Tristan, ::Hunters! Get here!::
"You lousy trickster, you planned that," the petite one accused Makoe.
"Let's keep credit where it's due, here," Samar retorted dryly, partially playing for time, partially indignant. "He didn't plan anything," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in." She looked from one huntress to another. "Though why he's still standing with odds like this, I haven't a clue." ::Get here – quick!:: she repeated. She received a gamut of telepathy from all three vampires, mostly feelings of urgency and bemusement.
"This isn't a normal hunt," the brown-haired knife-user said flatly. "I have a score to settle with him." She flipped her remaining knife into her right hand and pointed it at Makoe. "From our previous encounter."
"You fought with him before and you're still alive?" Samar said disbelievingly. Well, if this was a grudge match, then the one with the gun would not be shooting anyone unless her colleague got into trouble. Or so Samar hoped. She turned her head to look at Makoe out of the corner of her eye. "How come?"
"I thought she was cute," he said facetiously.
The response was so completely out of character that Samar almost turned her back on the huntress to stare at him outright. And a small part of her jumped curiously at the response. The huntress looked just as nonplussed.
"Get real!" she scoffed. At that, the slayer looked offended. "A human? A _hunter_?" The blonde had lowered her gun, but Samar didn't think it would make a difference if she decided to shoot anyone. However, the disbelieving grin on her face led Samar to think that she was slightly off her guard. ::Wait a minute. Isn't _she_ the one who was with Elena the night Jerrick came and got us?:: she asked Makoe.
::None other.:: "Why else do you think she's alive?" he asked aloud. Was he playing along, buying time, too? Or did he really mean it?
It was a good thing the others arrived then, almost simultaneously from different directions, because Samar couldn't think of a response to his rhetoric question.
It was a good thing that Stefan had brought Elena with him.
"Taura?" she exclaimed. She spotted the blonde. "Karen! What are you doing here?"
"Elena," the mousy brown-haired one returned, her expression lighting up briefly then her face fell. "Nothing much. Just...just..."
"Just wanting to beat the crap out of that one," Karen said dryly, nodding at Makoe, "Since he's the one who broke _both_ her arms _and_ her legs when Nigel Emery attacked the mansion." Her candor earned her a poisonous look from her colleague.
"She's lucky it wasn't her neck," Leon murmured, his tone light for all that it was the honest truth. He had Stefan's laptop shut and tucked under one arm.
"Oh, no, it seems he's going for her heart now," Karen went on, obviously very amused by the situation.
"Beg your pardon?" Leon asked, looking stumped. Karen just continued to grin, and Leon's gaze went questioningly to the silent Makoe.
Now Samar _did_ turn to face him, leaving the others to guard her from the slayers. "Repeat what you said," she demanded. "Go on."
"What about?" he hedged.
"About how she survived an encounter with you," Samar stated flatly, not letting him off the hook.
"I said she's cute," Aodhan repeated, sounding almost pleasant. He instantly became the focus of three other disbelieving stares.
The flustered subject of his comment made a mad, desperate grab for the reins of the situation. "I came to challenge you," she stated, apparently trying to salvage her purpose and change the topic at the same time.
Makoe looked at her measuringly for a long moment. Samar fancied quite a few breaths were held as the seconds ticked by there.
"As the challenged, I believe it is my right to choose the weapons," he said finally. His tone and expression were cool, emotionless; he was the Makoe Samar knew once more.
The huntress looked like she tasted something sour as she nodded.
"Well, whatever you choose, the outcome is rather predictable," Leon observed neutrally. Elena looked worried but said nothing. Tristan was scowling blackly, not liking the situation at all. Or perhaps he was just disgruntled at being pulled away from his 'baby'. Makoe continued to watch the petite slayer and Samar continued to look at him.
"Let's make this interesting. Something where the playing field is level." Taura's lips began to curl derisively. "Cars. A race," Makoe finished. Tristan scowl disappeared as he grinned unpleasantly. Leon shook his head. ::And you want to even the odds:: he said. Apparently, neither vampire thought the hunter stood much chance of winning.
Then again, neither did Samar. Taura, however, quirked an eyebrow. "And the stakes?" she asked haughtily.
"If you win, you'll get your fight with whatever conditions you stipulate."
"And if you win?" she prompted.
"I get a date," Makoe replied offhandedly. Samar's jaw dropped and she felt a funny sinking feeling in her stomach. She stared at Makoe as if he'd grown the proverbial second head.
"A date. Yeah right." Samar jerked her gaze away to see the brown-haired girl's lips curled contemptuously. The expression raised Samar's hackles. "I'll take you out for stake." Taura smirked.
"Please. Puns are the lowest form of humor," Makoe parried easily.
"You would know, I'm sure."
Makoe folded his arms and looked at her impassively. "You wanted to challenge. Do we deal or not?"
The brown-haired girl sniffed a disdainfully. "What have you got?" The vampire proceeded to reel off a paragraph or so of jargon that meant nothing to Samar but the huntress apparently understood it for she nodded at intervals and sometimes a tiny expression of appreciation would light her eyes.
"We're about equal," she agreed grudgingly. "Where and when?" she asked. Samar noted that Makoe did not ask for the specifications of _her_ car. ::Been snooping in her head, have you?:: she asked. The fiend didn't bother to reply.
Makoe named a stretch of road in downtown Seattle. "Tomorrow night, 11:20," he added. Traffic would be thin at that time, but the road would not be completely empty. Taura nodded firmly once and Samar watched their eyes meet and lock. "See you then." The slayer broke the stare down and her attention fastened on Samar. She cleared her throat pointedly and held out a hand, silently demanding her blade back. Samar tossed it to her and was annoyed when it was caught neatly before the short huntress turned to Elena.
"You owe me a story," she reminded. Elena looked bemused, but a small smile of pleasure played around the corners of her mouth at the short girl's words. Samar guessed that she was happy to see these two hunters. The blonde pushed away from the tree she had been leaning against with one foot and they both approached Elena. "How's the shoulder?" Samar heard the taller slayer ask as the trio walked away, leaving the vampires staring after them.
Samar eyed Makoe, who was watching the 'challenger' walk away. She strode up to him and shoved him, face set in a belligerent expression. "You jerk!" Well, at least he wasn't staring after that girl anymore. His dispassionate eyes fastened on her, his waiting stillness prodding her into explaining the outburst.
"Oh you...you..." She threw her hands up in the air and stormed off towards their cabin.
"What was _that_ about?" Leon asked.
"What makes you think I know?" Makoe countered.
"With Samar, there doesn't always have to _be_ a reason," Tristan said acidly.
"I thought female vampires didn't get PMS anymore," Leon murmured, careful to keep his voice low. If Samar heard that comment, he would pay very dearly. He watched her go and if there was a note of worry in his voice, it was almost too faint to detect. "She's growing up," he said to no one in particular.
"Samar? Come on, she still looks thirteen or something!" Tristan scoffed.
"How old was she when she was changed?" Stefan asked curiously.
"She was – is – eighteen," her brother said shortly. "Been eighteen for the past twenty years." Stefan looked poleaxed. Leon, catching that look, nearly smiled. "Eighteen's pretty grown up, I'd say," he commented casually. "More than ready to start dating."
Tristan snorted. "She's still a kid. And besides, who's going to date _her_. It would be like begging to be torn to tiny shreds slowly."
"Who indeed?" Leon asked rhetorically.
Tristan seemed to dismiss the episode, missing the looks Makoe and Stefan gave Leon. "Can I join in the fun tomorrow night?" he asked Makoe, a glint of anticipation in his manic, hazel eyes.
Black eyes flicked at him briefly. "It's a grudge match. It'll be strictly between the two of us, I should think." One side of Tristan's face curled nastily but Makoe ignored the expression of displeasure, walking off in the direction Samar had taken. "If you still want me to take a look at your brake pads, come on," he said with a slight turn of his head.
* * *
"I almost wish you hadn't told me all that," Taura said, a trifle rueful as she picked up her glass of juice. "Makes me almost feel sympathetic towards the leech."
The three of them were seated at one of the handful of tables set near the kitchen of the main building. Elena mock-frowned at the use of the derogatory name, only half in jest. She had just finished telling the hunters about Stefan's past. "How on earth did you manage to get in?" she asked, changing the subject. "I would have thought the entire place was warded."
"Jerrick gave me the address before you left Crystal's," Taura told her, taking a sip of her drink. "I guess maybe he thought some of the hunters would come over to your side when Crystal pushed them too far," she added, then eyed Elena when her face closed at this bit of information. "Still got some trouble between you, huh?"
"Hm?" Elena asked vaguely.
"After Antalya, it was pretty obvious that everything wasn't peachy," Taura all but snorted. On the armchair beside her, Karen shifted, drawing Elena's eye. The markswoman was still smiling faintly. Taura followed Elena's gaze and glowered at Karen's expression. "Quit it!" she snapped.
Karen only chuckled. "A vampire _not_ killing you because he thinks you're cute – and then asking you out on a date when you try and beat him up. That's got to be a first."
"I said cut it out. Drop it. Which part of that don't you understand?" the petite huntress railed at her taller friend. "He's not getting any date. I'm going to win that race," she set down her glass and pulled out one of her bamboo blades. "And then I'm going to tie him to a stake and roast him over a low flame," she vowed slamming the hilt of the dagger on the table to emphasize her resolve.
Karen snickered causing Elena to smile waywardly. Her smile grew into a grin, and then a chuckle. The two blondes shared a laugh while Taura glared at them, motionless in her dignity, until the sound of a car pulling up front encroached on their hearing.
Elena rose quickly, and the two hunters trailed her from the airy country-type kitchen to the front porch. They flanked her, hands instinctively going to weapons at the sight of strange vampires. Attuned to their movements, Elena raised her hand in a gesture to wait.
From the driver's seat, Eiran emerged, smiling a little. As they stood there, the sound of another car approaching could be heard.
The Turned were back.
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