HAPPY HOLIDAYS, HERE'S A (slightly late) CHRISTMAS PRESENT!
So. You deserve an explanation. I've had burnout since May, but have just been ignoring it and trying to power through until finally my creative stores were completely depleted and I couldn't even bring myself to write another sentence. After a bit of an unplanned break I feel more rested and like I finally regained some of the inspiration and drive that I had before. I appreciate your patience so, so much, and I'm so sorry for not letting you know about this sooner. I just didn't want you to get excited about a new update only for it to be an author's note. I hope you understand. Regardless, you have no idea how grateful I am that you're reading this fic, and I hope to see you again next time!
CHAPTER 16
KISS AND TELL
.
A month of mutual avoidance between Angela and Damon passed before she attacked him again. They were well into autumn, when most trees were yellow and lower temperatures brought thick scarves into fashion. Anna had been coming over to the Gilbert residence regularly and was officially in the "good" column for both Jenna and Jeremy. Hopefully that would make the truth a bit easier for them to accept. Angela had shared her little plan with Elena, and was assured that Elena would take care of it herself. That was good. Elena was learning how to lead. Apparently, Jenna was scheduled to meet with Pearl and Harper soon.
Speaking of Elena, she officially began hunter training. More often than not, she returned home sweaty and completely sore, covered in dirt and twigs, but Angela would never forget how bubbly she was the first day she was able to land a blow on Anna's stomach.
Just like Angela and Damon, Elena and Caroline had hardly spoken since the incident at the hospital. At first it wasn't obvious, perhaps a brave façade to not inconvenience the friend group at large, but Angela and the others eventually caught on to the fact that they never talked to each other for more than five minutes at a time. They noticed that Caroline would throw small, stray criticisms at Elena, and that Elena kept being tardy to cheerleading practice and delaying things, like a petty power move born out of spite.
In response, Caroline dug her heels in and fought back instead of apologizing like she should have done from the beginning. She shut down the cheerleading thing quickly, purposefully giving Elena the wrong time for practice and calling her in front of all the other cheerleaders in order to humiliate her for not showing up. As a way of clearing her name while getting back at her, Elena pulled the "dead parents card" as Tyler once so aptly put it, getting sympathy from the cheerleaders and making Caroline seem like the scum of the Earth for mocking her during such a sensitive time.
They were both in the right and they were both in the wrong. Angela just wished she had defied her sister by speaking to Caroline before things snowballed into what could almost be considered a war. Any chance she once had was gone. Caroline refused to listen.
Slowly, they drifted into two different groups during lunch so the passive aggressiveness wouldn't drive everyone insane. Angela and Anna stuck with Elena, while Bonnie and Tyler went with Caroline to keep things even. It felt wrong to choose one over the other, though being related to Elena meant that Angela never had a choice to begin with. No one was happy with the arrangement, and it was clear in the constant glances shared between everyone other than Elena and Caroline.
The first time they sat apart was when the gossip started. Elena and Caroline were the two most popular girls in school, and everyone knew that they'd been friends since kindergarten. Those two turning against each other was the high school equivalent of committing treason. It was strange and annoying. Being from a well-off family in a small town like Mystic Falls automatically turned you into a celebrity. All eyes were on you, and if you were as beautiful as Elena and Caroline, everyone admired you. You could do no wrong. When you inevitably did, those eyes turned into microscopes, analyzing every little move you made in hopes of learning more. When they found nothing, they theorized instead, and squeezed everyone you knew between the slides to analyze them too.
Angela was unused to such scrutiny. Yes, the people she surrounded herself with were popular, but she never went out of her way to bring attention to herself. She never pursued romantic relationships or befriended students that had no supernatural potential. She was known as introverted, cold, and unapproachable, and those three traits did not make someone as appealing as fiction might have you believe.
Whenever a student tried to pry information from her she shrugged them off, saying that she wasn't responsible for her sister or for Caroline, and suggested that they find something productive to do. People realized that she wasn't going to crack, so they immediately flocked to the most accommodating member of the group: Bonnie.
Bonnie hated being analyzed even more than Angela did. She didn't have time to worry about gossip when she was busy worrying about Sheila. Over the past few weeks, everyone had been working together to help Sheila regain her strength. Their first goal was to get her to successfully lift a water bottle. After she managed that, they worked on getting her to hold it up for increasingly longer amounts of time. Then came the getting up. Their final goal was to get her to walk. As things were, she still needed something to hold on to, but she was able to cross a room just fine.
And, of course, she was able to talk.
"Was your own booze not good enough?" she snapped as soon as she got Angela alone in her house. It smelled like herbs again; that pleasant, earthy scent that was so desperately missed before. She limped her way towards the dinner table, using Angela as a crutch to steady herself. When she reached her destination, she let go of her and grabbed onto the back of a chair. "Your father was a doctor. Do you know how much money he left you behind? You could've gone to the liquor store and bought a whole shelf if you wanted it so damn bad."
Angela motioned for her to take the peace offering in her hand. "You know I'm still underage."
Sheila grabbed the brand new bottle of Maker's Mark and set it down with a heaviness that looked unintentional. "Then maybe you shouldn't be drinking in the first place."
"Touché. I missed having you yell at me."
"Better than yelling at myself. Been doing that ever since you kids woke me up. Can't believe I let a vampire in the house."
"In all fairness, I would've done the same. Vampires can be killed. Pneumonia cannot."
Sheila shook her head. "I let you influence me too much. You've made me soft. You're lucky it was the one vampire I've got history with and not his reckless brother. Or that Anna girl. I want you to take me to her mother when I feel safe enough to cast again. Should at least meet the woman I risked my life for."
"If it helps improve your opinion of her, she predicted you would want that."
Sheila dragged the chair back with a screech and sat. "All it does is tell me that she understands how people think. Doesn't make her any more safe." She reached for the tarot deck in the middle of the table and emptied it into her palm. The sound of shuffling filled the air. "You still haven't answered my question."
Angela sat across from her with a nervous smile. "You were serious about that?"
"Of course I was serious. I want to know what you've been up to in my absence. But remember…" She stopped shuffling and chose the first card. A knight with a black banner atop a white horse. "I can always tell when you're lying."
"Can you let me lie anyway?"
"Of course I can. Doesn't mean I will. Tell me. If you want to lie about it, coming clean will be good for you."
"All you'll do is tell me how stupid I am."
"I may treat you like a girl, but I've never forgotten that you're a woman. I trust you to make your own decisions. If all you need is for me to listen, then all I'll do is listen. We're equals, you and I. I hope you remember that."
"You're right. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just looking for reasons not to tell you."
"And here I thought it would be a simple 'I needed to relax'. What happened? What's got you so scared?"
"I don't know. I'm scared of what it means. Of what it would do if I told you. Of having to examine myself. It's like there are two parts of me that are constantly at odds with each other. Thought and emotion. People need both to be at peace, but I don't know how to balance them. One moment I'm too cold and analytical, while the next I'm an overemotional mess. All I know is how to hide the fact that I don't know how to balance them, and telling you what happened would force me to confront that."
"Well, at least you're self-aware. That's always a good start."
"I suppose it is."
There was a long moment where the only sound in the room came from Sheila shuffling the deck and pulling out different cards. Something seemed to be troubling her. When she pulled out a burning tower, her eyebrows drew tightly together. She muttered beneath her breath, setting down the deck and picking up the cards she laid out like she was trying to make sense of them.
"I slept with Stefan."
The card between Sheila's thumb and forefinger slipped from her grasp. She looked up at her in shock. "What?"
Angela's cheeks were flushed properly now. Her cheeks and her neck and her chest, like a river of flame making its way down her body. "The night we opened the tomb. That was when I drank your whiskey. We both did. I had the roughest day since mine and Elena's birthday, and he nearly died, so I suggested that we drink some alcohol to unwind. We'd spoken a couple of times before then, but that night there was this… understanding between us? I don't know. I felt like I had no reason to hide. I think he felt the same way too, even if at the time he told me it was because of my blood. It was impossible to stop the attraction I felt towards him. The attraction I feel. That's what possessed me to drink your whiskey. I drank it because I'm a far worse person than I pretend to be."
Sheila stayed silent, like she was trying to gather her thoughts in order to articulate them. "What do you mean, it was because of your blood?"
"After you collapsed, he showed up to try and stop Damon from opening the tomb. Damon drove a branch through his chest. I took it out, but a splinter was entering his heart. He was dying. I had to heal him."
"You gave a vampire your blood?"
"Yes. Why is that the part you're focusing on?"
"Because if he tried to take all of it, nobody would have stopped him. I wasn't there, and who knows how trustworthy the other two are. Then you were intimate with him? You're lucky he didn't seriously hurt you."
"He told me he wanted to. But that he was able to resist, because his desire to keep me safe was stronger than his thirst for blood."
Sheila gaped at her. "Huh?" It was a rare and precious thing to render Sheila Bennett speechless, and Angela smiled despite herself.
"He had every opportunity to drain me. He could have left me dead on the couch, or in bed, or in the shower, or in the kitchen. But he didn't."
"That's four rooms. Jesus, how many times did you do it?"
"N— No, just once! In Bonnie's bed." Sheila's forehead wrinkled in disgust. "Don't worry, I washed the sheets. But it started on the couch, I took a shower in the morning, and he made me breakfast in the kitchen."
"He made you breakfast?"
"Bacon and eggs. My favorite."
"Your—" Sheila rubbed her temple. "How long ago did you meet this boy?"
"On the first day of school. But he stalked me for three and a half months beforehand, so it makes sense that he'd know."
"He what."
"Well, I suppose he stalked Elena. I just got in the way. I wonder if he started stalking me instead after a certain point." As bizarre as it was, the possibility made her heart flutter.
It must have shown on her face, because Sheila said, "If you think that's romantic, there's something seriously wrong with you."
Angela waved her away. "Oh, of course it's not romantic." Was that a lie? "But I understand why he did it. He had to make sure Elena wasn't Katherine. I would do it too."
Sheila shook her head. "You may be insane, but how does it make you a bad person?"
"Elena liked him at the time. I stabbed her in the back. How does this not make me a bad person?"
"If I was stoned for every drunken romp I've had with an attractive man, I wouldn't have any skin left on my body."
"That's more information about you than I care to know."
"Would you have done it sober?"
"No."
"There you go, end of story. I assume by your word choice that Elena is no longer interested in him."
"If she is, she's been great at hiding it."
"Then why don't you tell her about this?"
"I told you, I'm scared of what it means."
"You'll be scared for the rest of your life if you never face your fears. And we both know how long that can be in this town."
Angela pursed her lips in displeasure. "I thought you were just going to listen."
The corner of Sheila's mouth curved upward. "If you didn't like me talking, you wouldn't keep coming back to me. Don't pretend you weren't expecting this."
"Hag."
"Careful now. Might have to turn you into a toad if you don't watch your tongue."
"How can you turn me into anything? I thought you were scared to use your magic."
"Terrified. I feel weaker than ever, like a part of me is gone. I'm scared that I'll implode if I so much as light a candle."
"Well," Angela said mockingly, "you'll be scared for the rest of your life if you never face your fears."
Sheila bristled, like she was about to scold her, but then deflated. "Walked into that one."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Give me time."
"Longer than two months?"
"Maybe. Maybe longer. I don't know. I haven't heard of many witches who went through this and lived to tell the tale."
Angela frowned. "Then what about the ring?"
"You'll have to find someone else. I tried dozens of modifications over the years, but nothing felt right. Maybe nothing ever will. I can't imagine that Nature wants an object like this to exist."
"Is it Nature that governs witches, or is it witches that govern witches?"
"For me it's both. I serve Nature spiritually, like a deity, but in practice, it's our ancestors that punish and reward us. Serving Nature came first, before the supernatural limbo came to be. Most witches at the time didn't care to make the verbal switch, and most witches now don't care to make the distinction. Regardless, I have the notes I made, if you want them."
"I hope you keep them somewhere safer than your grimoire. Bonnie already found your notes about the elixir. Why the hell would you write 'doppelgänger' on the side?"
"So you could find it in case something happened to me. I apologize for keeping your comfort in mind while facing my potential doom."
Angela winced. "Right. Sorry. It's been rough lately. I guess Bonnie could always finish your research."
"Only if she wants to."
"Of course. She was my friend before she was a witch. If she doesn't feel like it, I'll find someone else."
"Good. But that means you have to tell Bonnie the truth about your sister. Which means you have to tell your sister the truth about herself. And you have to tell your sister the truth about you and that cute boy I met in the 60s."
A laugh spilled forth from Angela's mouth. "That cute boy you met in the 60s? Is that what you call him?"
"Only in my mind. Nearly forty years to the date. October of '69. Appropriate, considering what I wanted to do to him."
"That's far more information about you than I care to know."
Sheila smirked. She slid the cards into her palm and shuffled them back into the deck. "Elena needs to know. All I ask is that you consider telling her sooner rather than later. And, naturally, that you join me for a glass of whiskey. Preferably without getting naked this time."
"You're never going to let this go, are you?"
"Absolutely not. And…" She slid the bottle over with a wicked glint in her eye. "You're not leaving until you tell me exactly what happened."
It was going to be a long morning.
.
"YAHTZEE!"
A cacophony of groans filled the living room. Jeremy crumpled his score sheet and threw it at Jenna's face. It hit her square in the nose, though her triumphant grin never faltered.
"I think that means I win."
Elena pretended to pout. "If you scored any lower, it would've been me."
Angela smoothed out Jeremy's sheet and examined it. She looked at him in outrage. "How did even you score higher than me?"
He gave her a patronizing side-eye. "Because I'm better than you."
Her glare intensified.
Jenna leaned over the coffee table to ruffle her hair. "Don't be sour, nieciekins. We save that sort of energy for Monopoly."
Ever since their first family game night, they decided that every Sunday night henceforth was to be dedicated to eating takeout, playing tabletop games, and falling asleep on the couch to so-bad-that-it's-good movies before being awoken by Jenna the next day for school. It was the most normal and peaceful thing in Angela's life, and she cherished it with everything she had.
The gentle droning of the television had been the only source of sound for the past half hour, other than the four of them talking, rolling dice, and scratching at paper with lead. It was the local news station; Jenna's desperate attempt at remaining an adult since she missed the news that morning and at noon. Of course, she wasn't paying it much attention.
Elena worked on clearing the table while the other three began setting up Candy Land.
Angela unfolded the board and put it down. "One of these days I'm introducing you to Dungeons & Dragons. I need to practice my improv."
"Hm… That name rings a bell." Jenna emptied the bag of markers into her palm. "Oh! I think Mason Lockwood and a couple of the other boys used to play it back in high school."
Elena returned, sitting down with a confused look on her face. "Isn't that the game Carol Lockwood says is from the devil?"
"No, Carol's not a bible thumper. She just agrees with everything Ricky's mom says. She's the bible thumper. I doubt Carol actually believes half the things that come out of her mouth when they're in the same room. Or ever."
A crease formed between Jeremy's eyebrows. He spelled out, "R-I-C-K-Y," like he wanted her to explain.
Jenna looked at him slyly. "Anything other than 'Richard' annoys him like hell. Makes his face go all red. It's funny."
"Ricky," Jeremy mouthed, before he broke out in a goofy grin. He sat back in his place, across from Elena.
"Logan used to play it too," Jenna added, her face souring. "He asked me out a while ago."
A suggestive smile spread across Elena's face. "Did he now?"
"Tell him no," Angela said. "You're too good for him."
"Ugh, but he was all sauve and pathetic."
She snorted. "That's always a good start."
"I totally fell for it too. I'm getting coffee with him tomorrow."
"You're what?"
Jenna let out a whine and slid until she was lying on the floor. "I know. I'm the worst."
Elena shrugged. "Hey, you never know. Last time you saw him, he was young and stupid. People change."
"You're one to talk. You're still young and stupid."
"Where are you getting coffee?" Angela asked. "Might have to come to your rescue."
"Where do you think?"
"The Grill?"
"Yup."
"Pick a table by the door. Easy escape."
Elena exhaled a laugh. "He's not going to try and murder her, Angie." No, but he is going to try and steal the vampire compass, sister mine.
"I don't like him. He's a cheater who's obsessed with himself. Why are you defending him?"
"I'm not defending him. I just want what's best for her. And I trust that she's smart enough to make up her own mind after a short, caffeine-riddled conversation."
A loud thud captured their attention. Jeremy's head was pressed against the table, and he was looking at them flatly. "Stop being boring."
Jenna leaned in until her eyes were level with his. "I'm sorry, young man. What would you rather talk about?"
He shrugged. "What movie are we watching?"
"Hm… how about, whoever wins this game gets to pick the movie?"
"How many do we have left?"
"Two."
"I thought we had five," Angela cut in.
"The other ones contain lewd scenes."
"Yes, because we wouldn't want a teenage boy with access to the internet to know what sex is."
Jenna grimaced. "He can do whatever he wants alone, but I refuse to watch the camera linger on Tommy Wiseau's buttcrack with him."
Jeremy waved his arms in a 'no' motion. "I don't want to talk about this either."
The corners of Elena's eyes crinkled when she laughed. She picked up her green marker. "Let's just play, alright?"
"Sure," Jenna drawled. "As long as you guys are ready to get your butts kicked again."
Unfortunately for Jenna, she, in fact, was the butt kickee. She pretended to be sad, but she was always a graceful loser. She couldn't help but cheer when Jeremy won. Angela, not so graceful a loser, was just happy that she hadn't come last again.
All throughout the game, Elena looked as content as could be. Even when nothing was happening, a small smile was present on her face, as if she was so happy to be with family that it would hurt her not to show it. It was almost enviable. Sheila's words rang in Angela's skull ever since she spoke them. Sooner rather than later. Sooner rather than later. What was sooner than tonight?
Her stomach filled with butterflies. Maybe before they moved to the couch to watch a movie she could bring Elena to the side and ask that they speak upstairs. She would start with only one thing tonight so as to not overwhelm her. One thing. The simplest thing. Stefan. She would tell her about him tonight, and nothing would make her chicken out of it.
She helped clear the coffee table in a daze. It was nearly time. If she was going to do this, it had to be now. Or not now. In a moment. She could procrastinate a bit.
She offered to return the game to its proper place on the bookshelf, taking longer than necessary to put it away. Was she actually going to go through with this? No, she was. Of course she was. She just promised herself that she would. If Angela had the power to influence Sheila, Sheila must have had the power to influence Angela tenfold. Only one conversation and she was ready to do her bidding. It was pathetic… but wasn't that what friends were for? To rend you pathetic and have you be glad for it.
Jeremy was still making up his mind about which movie to watch when Angela decided to approach Elena. She took a moment to collect her thoughts before she started, silently watching her.
Elena was leaning against the back of the couch, gazing at Jenna and Jeremy with that same, content smile on her face. A thought entered Angela's mind when she saw the love in her eyes: Elena was made to have a family. She was made for the white picket fence life, Golden Retriever and all, with a steady career and at least one child to look after. But she never stood a chance. Not in this life. Not in the next.
Stop thinking about the future. Think about now. Sooner rather than later. Sooner rather than later. Sooner rather than later. She walked forward. "Elena?"
The smile on her face never wavered. "Yeah?"
"Um. Could… could we—"
"Oh my God!"
Jenna's voice drew her attention away from her sister. A hand was raised to her mouth, and her wide eyes were locked on the television. When Angela read the subtitle, her blood went cold. Elena reached for the remote to turn the sound up.
"…has been another animal attack this evening in Mystic Falls," the newscaster said, "resulting in the unfortunate death of thirty-seven-year-old Kimberly Lowe, mother of one and invaluable asset to our community."
A picture of the woman she serviced at the car wash filled the screen.
"This is now the fifth deceased victim in what has been a very bleak autumn in Mystic Falls. We understand that this is cause for concern, but as long as you follow this sage advice from Sheriff Forbes, it is likely that you will remain unharmed. 'Commemorate the dead, stay together, and most importantly, don't go out at night.'"
The newscaster began to list more precautionary measures, as well as what to do if a citizen were to come into any contact with the "beast that plagued Mystic Falls," but Angela wasn't listening.
She was out the door in seconds, barely remembering to shove her feet into a pair of shoes and grab her car keys so she wouldn't be forced to walk.
Jenna called out after her, concerned that she was going out at night alone when they were explicitly told to do the opposite. Angela heard footsteps following her—light footsteps but not as light as Jeremy's; Elena. She slammed the front door shut in hopes of deterring her. It worked for a while, but when Angela brought the car to life and backed out of the driveway, Elena exited the house. Angela could see her bewildered expression in the rear-view mirror. Elena rushed to the edge of the sidewalk and yelled something out, but beneath her own roaring mind, Angela couldn't hear. She sped down the street before Elena could repeat herself, leaving her home and family in the dust.
The purring of the car's engine was her sole companion until the boarding house came into view, its roof carving its place in the dark sky like the hull of a ship. The golden light peeking through its many windows denoted the only sign of civilization in the surrounding area. Her hands kept tightening and loosening around the steering wheel, unconsciously practicing for a neck that she intended to wring shortly. When she parked out front, she pulled the key out of the ignition so roughly she feared she would break it. She tugged on the old-fashioned doorbell, hoping that the man himself would appear and she could put that practice to good use. He didn't. Zach did.
He scanned her up and down with a frown that caused lines to form around his mouth, confused as to why she was there so late at night. She wanted to see Stefan, she claimed, providing no reason as to why. If he really wanted to know, he could take it up with the old-ass vampire that allowed him to continue breathing. After a bit of back and forth—he definitely suspected that she was being compelled—he pointed her in the direction of Stefan's bedroom; up the stairs and down the hallway that led to the western wing.
"Thank you," she muttered and breezed past him. She barely reached the landing of the second floor when she stopped in her tracks. In front of her stood Stefan, presumably roused from his quarters by the sound of her voice.
"What's wrong?" he whispered.
Rather than answering him, she opened the nearest door. It was a bedroom. It looked empty. Dozens of doors like it lined the walls. When was the last time any of them were occupied?
She grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside, shutting the door behind them and pressing her back against it so she could hear if Zach passed by. Without the wall sconces in the hallway, they were trapped in darkness, though not for long. Stefan reached beside her, and she heard a click before light filled the room. For some reason, she was expecting the furniture to look cheap and tasteless, like that of an old motel. It was as beautiful as the rest of the house.
"Where's your shit stain of a brother?"
He frowned in confusion, and she noticed that even though they were many generations apart, he and Zach looked quite similar around the mouth. "What?"
She released a frustrated breath and sank further into the wood. "Someone was killed today. They're saying it was an animal attack. I know that you and Pearl aren't dumb enough to do that. Damon's an asshole. I need to know if it was him."
"No. Damon's impulsive, but he's not stupid." She gave him a look. He huffed. "He's not suicidal. He covered his tracks when he decided to stay here, with that mountain lion. Why would he sabotage himself?"
"Maybe someone pissed him off. Doesn't he like to kill people when his feelings get hurt?"
"He looked calm to me. As calm as usual, that is."
"I want to talk to him. Is he here?"
"Yes."
She turned to exit the room, but was halted by a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey. Wait. Are you going to be okay, seeing him again?"
"I have to be. It's not like he can hurt me."
"Not physically."
"Good thing I have you to protect me from his jabs and insults. Though with how angry I am, he might be the one who'll need protecting."
A hint of amusement shone through his expression. "In that case, I'll be sure to stand by."
Damon's room was on the exact opposite side of the boarding house, which she would have found hilarious if she wasn't eager to throw a brick at the next squishy thing she saw. Less eager than before, since Stefan tended to have that effect on her. She was sure that the sight of Damon's shit-eating grin would rectify that.
Neither of them bothered to knock. She immediately wished they had.
Damon was right behind the door. Right behind the door. The unexpected sight made her jump, before her gaze fell down to the bare expanse of his torso. She snapped her focus back to his face, and when that infernal grin began to form at the path her eyes took, all the rage came rushing back. As if she would ever look at him that way. As if he hadn't orchestrated this reaction in the first place.
"May I help you?" His voice was dripping in sin.
Well, she didn't have a brick, but she would make do. Her hand shot out, and just as it was about to reach his cheek, his fingers clamped down on her wrist. She pulled back, trying to free herself, but he wouldn't budge.
"You are insufferable," she gritted out.
"And you need to keep your hands to yourself." He grabbed her other wrist when she swung it too, careful to avoid the vervain. "Maybe I should keep them for you until you learn your manners."
"Let her go, Damon." Stefan's voice took on a tone that made her go still. An unhealthy desire passed through her in that moment—that Damon release her not for herself, but for Stefan; so he wouldn't feel whatever emotion caused his voice to come out like that.
"Ooh, you hear that?" Damon whispered as if he were a child in trouble. "He only says 'Damon' when he's angry."
She tried to free herself again, to no avail. It was like trying to pull a piece of string from beneath a boulder. "Not as angry as me. Let me go if you don't want a stake in your heart."
"Ah." His sigh ended in a chuckle. "You're so cute when you're crabby. Like a kitten puffing up her fur. I wonder if my brother would mind if I got you a collar." He leaned in close, until their noses were brushing against each other. "I would be a very good owner."
Air blew past her so suddenly it made her squeeze her eyes shut. When it was gone, she saw that her arms were free. Damon was by the large mahogany wardrobe inside his room and Stefan was a few feet away from him, by the glass doors that led out to the balcony.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Damon tutted, failing to suppress his smile. "Predictability gets you killed, brother."
What she could see of Stefan's face was stony, though half of it hidden by the low light of the room. He spoke in that eerily calm, chilled way. "Did you kill someone today?"
"No. And before Miss Accusatory gets herself all riled up, maybe she should remember that there's still an unknown vampire on the loose."
Angela clenched her jaw and fully entered the room. "Maybe, before Mr. Jackass calls me Miss Accusatory, he should remember that I have every right to get riled up. That vampire attacked one person, and it's been a solid month since then. At this point, I'm starting to think he was just some guy who was passing through town and made a mistake."
Damon looked at her like she was stupid. He swung open the wardrobe, revealing a tightly-packed row of black clothes. "Since when do vampires 'pass through' Mystic Falls?"
She glanced at Stefan. Loath as she was to admit it, he had a point. "Okay. Let's say it wasn't you."
"Which it wasn't."
"Let's say, for the sake of argument, that you weren't the careless murderer this time."
"Which I wasn't."
"That just for once in your miserable, insecure, pathetic little life you didn't do something that could bite you in the ass."
"Okay, now you're just being mean."
"Then what? How do we find this guy?"
"Who did he attack?" Stefan asked. "The second time."
"Kim Lowe. She owned the Deli by the town square. She was a 'she' like Penny, but other than that, they had virtually nothing in common. Kim was in her late thirties; Penny barely looked legal. Kim was blonde and blue-eyed; Penny's a brunette with green eyes. Kim was white; Penny's Hispanic. Kim was shorter and less athletic too."
"Do we know where Kim was found? Maybe his hunting grounds are the same."
"Maybe," Damon said, shrugging on a black button-up. "Or maybe he just goes after people that are alone."
Angela nodded. "Or that. I didn't hear anything about where she was found. Maybe we can look it up." She looked at Stefan and lightened her tone in an effort to make him feel better. "Do you old folks keep any computers around here?"
The stony look faded a bit, though his voice was still tight. "Yeah. Got one in my room."
"Great." Damon clapped his hands. "While you kids Nancy Drew this out, I'm going to go ask my buddies in the Council if they know anything."
Angela scrutinized him. "You're buddies with the Council already?"
"Well… 'buddies' is a subjective term. Mrs. Lockwood is a very lovely lady, and frankly I don't think Mr. Lockwood pays her the kind of attention she deserves. I hear that he's gone for the weekend. Some sort of business trip. It must be lonely in that big old house of hers."
"You're seducing my best friend's mom?"
"Is it seduction if she wants it more than I do?"
"You're disgusting."
"I'm delicious." Giving her a wink to make the innuendo obvious, he opened the door and disappeared down the hall.
After a few seconds, when he was a fair distance away, Angela pointed at the spot where he once stood. "Was that supposed to be a clever one-liner?"
Stefan snorted. "That's my thing, Angela. I say things and walk away." His voice shook near the end, betraying his anger. He seemed to be actively suppressing it, perhaps for her sake.
She lowered her voice to as deep a pitch as she could manage. "Whatever, Damon. You're so annoying. Get out of my room. I have better hair than you."
His mouth twitched. He tilted his head down and looked at her from beneath his lashes. "Hellooo, brother."
She groaned and started walking towards the hallway. "No way. That's not getting me twice."
He fell into step beside her. "Ah, come on. My Damon voice is perfect—way better than your me voice, by the way."
"No, it definitely needs some work."
"Work?"
"Like, plastic surgery work. Or no. Construction work. Your Damon voice needs construction work."
He fell silent. Contemplative. "Hellooo, brother."
"You're such a dork."
He pointed at himself with both hands in a wholly Italian gesture. "I'm a dork?"
"Yes, you. You're a scary old man from the 1800s and you're a dork."
Though her response finally made him smile, a finger came up to his lips in a motion to be quiet. He nodded towards the stairs. She got the message. Zach was still in the house and could accidentally discover that she knew about their secret. She stuck her tongue out and hurried her pace until she reached his bedroom.
It was as large as Damon's, but where Damon's looked like a room you would expect to belong to a modern-day vampire, Stefan's looked cozy, like it resided in eternal autumn. Everything was dark wood and elegant in an understated way, from the floor to the walls, to the back of the loveseat and the desk that sat in the middle. The bed was tall, wide, and looked so comfortable that, for a second, she was seriously tempted to crawl beneath the covers and fall asleep. Books were scattered everywhere. Some looked like they were from the present day, while others had leather covers on which the title was carefully engraved rather than printed. She wondered if any of them were his journals, but supposed it didn't matter. She respected his privacy too much to go looking. Rays of pale moonlight entered the room in streaks, illuminating some areas more than others and meeting the artificial light caused by electricity.
She was scanning the bookshelves that lined the wall ahead of her when the door clicked shut. There was a collection of old records amidst the books and baubles, and she gravitated towards it like a fly to honey. She glanced behind her only to find him already staring. "Is this where the one you gave me came from?"
He nodded. "You're welcome to take any of them if you want."
"And take advantage of your generosity? No way. If I want to listen to one, I'll listen to it here, with you. Look, we can listen to…" She grabbed a random vinyl. "Jimmy Buffett. Never heard of him before."
He chuckled and went to his desk, reaching over to turn on the computer. She took that as consent and found the record player on a small table by the loveseat. She popped the record in and carefully lowered the needle. White noise was all that played for a moment, before the sound of gentle guitar picking came through. She listened as more instruments came into play and then a man's voice started singing. At his distinctive southern twang, she looked back at Stefan. "Is this country music?"
"Among other things. I used to be a bit of a hoarder before everything became digital. Got all kinds of weird stuff in here."
"Huh." Though it wasn't a genre she typically enjoyed, it wasn't pure country, and the melody was pleasant. "Not bad."
Satisfied with her choice, she walked to where he was and leaned over, resting her elbows against the desk and watching the lock screen fade into the background. He glanced at her with something akin to panic. "Here." He got up. "Sit. Let me get another chair."
"Oh, no, it'll just take a second. Not like we'll be CSI-ing this thing from your bedroom."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. I know it's been a while since you've been human, but I promise that this position is comfier than it looks."
After a moment of hesitation, he lowered himself back into the chair. He seemed a bit embarrassed. "Sorry. I don't get many visitors."
"Then I'm honored to be one of them."
He turned his gaze back to the computer. She could tell that he was trying not to smile. Maybe he thought it was a silly thing to smile about.
"That went well," she said.
"Hm?"
"Damon."
"Oh. Right. I'm really sorry about him."
"No, it's—"
"He thrives off of making people uncomfortable. I just wish he didn't decide to focus on you. I know I sound like a broken record, but are you sure you don't want me to do something about him?"
"How many times are we going to have this conversation?"
He let out a small, frustrated breath. "Yeah. Okay."
"Hey. Thank you for trying to protect me. But please trust me a little bit. Damon is… Damon, but he's also an asset, especially now that I've introduced him to the Council. I don't want to make him my enemy."
"That's not all. There's something you're not telling me. You need him for something else. I can tell." At her silence, he continued. "I hope that one day you'll feel safe enough to tell me. You shouldn't be alone in this."
She cleared her throat, trying to mask her discomfort. "Oh? Have we warmed up to the idea of someone knowing everything about ourselves from the get-go?"
"I'm willing to bet that there's a handful of things you don't know about me."
"So tell me."
"You first. It's only fair that I know as much about you as I can, since you know so much about me."
"What would you like to know?"
"Anything. Something that nobody else knows about."
"Going straight for the juicy stuff, huh?" It took her a moment to think of what to say. There was so much there, yet so little that didn't risk disaster. "Oh! Here's one." She leaned in, as if to emphasize how big of a secret it was. It let her see every little detail of his face. "My sleep schedule is disgusting. It's so messed up. I fall asleep super late and wake up super early, which means that I'm always tired and need to chug a ton of caffeine in order for my body to actually work. I don't even know how I'm alive."
"Night owl?"
"No. Well, yes, but that's not why I have trouble sleeping." She tapped her temple. "Mind's too noisy. Won't let me rest."
"Ah. I stay up late too sometimes. If you want, we can start talking to each other until you fall asleep."
"What, you mean every night?"
"Any night you want to."
She drew back with a frown. "I wouldn't want to annoy you."
"You wouldn't be."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I like talking to you too much."
Her breath got caught in her throat. "I like talking to you too."
He smiled beautifully. "Then I don't see the issue."
"What if I can't fall asleep until four in the morning?"
"Then I'll stay up until four in the morning."
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Well you're always dead serious, considering you're a…" The look he gave her made her stop. "Thank you." Her voice was more subdued than before. "Truly. It means more than you might think."
"Anything for you, Angie."
A knot formed in her stomach. Anything for you, Angie. Where had she heard that before? Anything for me, Stefan. Anything. "You shouldn't say that so lightly." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her cheek felt warm. "Lesser people would use it against you."
"I'm not saying it to lesser people. I'm saying it to you."
"You don't know enough about me to believe that I'm not one of them."
"You started crying at the possibility of manipulating me. I think we're good."
"That's—" She paused when she realized that she didn't have a rebuttal; at least not one that wouldn't cause her embarrassment. A huff left her parted mouth. "Let's just… get on with investigating already. Peoples' lives are at stake."
"Mhm." He looked far too pleased with himself. "You said her name was Kim…"
"Lowe. Although I'm sure you'll find her if you just look up the Mystic Falls Courier."
"Good point." He began typing, and she leaned in closer so she could read.
"There. Kimberly Lowe. Thirty-seven. Found not by Wickery Bridge. What was she doing in the middle of the forest? The whole town's heard of animal attacks."
"Maybe the right question to ask is, 'where's the least worrying place an animal attack could take place?'"
"You think they're lying?"
"It's a possibility."
"It is. But what if they're not? The forest isn't too far off from the bridge. Maybe he jumps them there and drags them into the woods to finish them off. Penny could've just gotten lucky."
"How would she have gotten lucky?"
She shrugged. "Caroline scared him off?"
"If a human could scare him off it means he's new. Very new."
"New enough not to know how to compel people? Penny remembered him just fine."
"Maybe. Actually, no, you're right. He probably doesn't. Otherwise he would have just compelled Caroline and finished Penny off."
"Caroline can't be compelled."
"Still, he would've tried."
"Right. So, daylight rings are rare, right? Which means that he needs a safe house to hide in during the day. If he can't compel people, he can't compel someone to let him stay with them, and following that logic, if we're right about this, either he killed someone and stole their house, or his safe house is somewhere public."
"I've checked every public place I can think of and Anna's compelled people for information. We've come up blank."
"So then he probably stole someone's house. But wouldn't someone dying make the news? I mean, someone would go over to check on them at some point."
"Not necessarily. They could be someone without any family or someone that keeps to themselves. Do you know anyone like that?"
"I guess? I could make a list of people I know about, but there are over six thousand residents in Mystic Falls. And now that I think about it, he could just be one of them and using his own house. Which raises even more questions. Namely, who turned him, and where was he when they did?"
"Let's take things one step at a time. In order to answer those questions, we have to find him first."
"You're right. But how are we going to—" She froze. She straightened up, her palms flat against the desk. "Logan Fell." Fuck that guy, but his timing was perfect.
"What?"
"M— My ancestor, Johnathan Gilbert. You killed him once." She didn't miss how he flinched. "He had this device that points towards vampires; like a magical compass. If you and every other vampire stay inside one day, I can drive around town and use it to find him. And maybe if…" A slow smile crept across her face. "Yes. Good plan."
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Well, not nothing, but… I can't tell you yet."
"You know that makes me even more curious, right?"
"Now, now, Stefan, it's not polite to pry. I have my own plots and schemes. Ones far more dastardly than you can imagine."
He let out a silent laugh. "Is that so? Maybe we should be careful then. We wouldn't want you to corrupt my mind."
"Somehow, I think your mind is already corrupt beyond repair."
"Somehow, I think you enjoy that."
"Would you prefer it if I didn't?"
"Maybe I should."
"Well, if it's any consolation, I enjoy that more."
"All that means is that your mind is as corrupt as mine."
"Hm… would you look at that. You know plenty about me already." Her hands slid off the table. "I'll get the compass tomorrow. Right now, we need to get some rest."
"I'd like to take a look around the place she was found first. Search for any disturbances in the ground. It might help us determine if she was actually found there or if they're covering this up more than usual."
"Good idea. Let's go."
"Wha— No. It could be dangerous. You could get hurt."
"Or I could help. Besides, it'll be fun. Who doesn't like a nighttime excursion to the creepy murder woods on the edge of town?"
"You're not going to take 'no' for an answer, are you?"
"Nope."
He sighed and stood up. "Fine. But take this first." He walked over to a small, old-looking box on his dresser. "You're not carrying anything, and I assume you don't keep spare stakes under your clothes just in case."
"Why, want to check?"
His shoulders stiffened. Astounded with herself, she rushed to cover her mouth as her cheeks burned hot. When he turned around to hand her the stake, she saw that he was trying not to laugh. "That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day."
Oh. Good. He's not angry. Perhaps that should have worried her more. She lowered her hand and tried to act normal. "As long as it gets me out of trouble too."
"You know how to use one of these, right?"
"Um. Stick 'em with the pointy end?"
He wrapped his hand around hers and guided it until the stake was right over his heart. "This isn't the most efficient way, but odds are you won't get a clean shot. You need to make sure to go between the ribs. Right here. See how there's a slight dip? The less bone you have to pierce, the better. Strike hard and don't hesitate. Everybody has someone that loves them. It doesn't matter. What matters is that if someone tries to kill you, you need to make them stop, or else the people that you love are going to be the ones to suffer. Okay?"
She nodded and made herself look studious, trying desperately not to focus on how his touch made her all giddy inside or the way his shirt wrinkled beneath the pressure of the wood or how she could somehow feel him breathing through it. "I think I got it."
"Okay." He analyzed her for a moment longer before letting go. "Come on. The creepy murder woods won't wait forever."
Traversing the forest in the dark was much easier with a proper flashlight. She only tripped over herself twice this time. Both times he rushed to her side and both times she laughed it off, although something squeezed her heart at his blatant display of care.
They were a ways in, far from any landmarks that she could use to determine which direction they were facing. Tall, looming trees surrounded them on all sides and made everywhere look the same. The trunks were as thick as the both of them pressed together, cracked and wrinkled in their old age.
Stefan should be wrinkled too. The thought made her examine the back of his head. Without the flashlight on him, his hair was as dark as the sky, without a speck of silver to match the stars. Would you still want him if he looked like the corpse that he is?
He stopped and turned to her. She saw a skull where his face should be, and instead of his eyes she saw endless pits of black. She saw hair that covered his gaunt head in patches, reaching his shoulders like thick, greasy rope, and long fingernails that resembled claws. Is that what Dad looks like now?
"I smell blood." His claw pointed first, then the rest of him. "There." He shone the light on the base of a tree.
It was impossible to see until she took a generous step forward. Flecks of something dark and glossy were dotted across a blade of grass. He moved the flashlight closer. She made out the color red.
She looked back at him. When he turned just right, the light passed across his face and his eyes glimmered like those of an animal.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He stood there for a moment, before seeming to understand what she meant. "It's mostly dry. Fresh blood is more, ah, appealing."
"I see."
He slowly circled the tree, his intense gaze locked on the earth around it. "Footprints," he said. His head tilted upwards to look into the distance. The flashlight followed. "Coming from that direction."
She looked closer in an effort to spot them. Dirt was displaced ever so slightly in two places close together. After she got a point of reference, the rest of the trail became easier to see. "Should we follow them?"
"There's no evidence of a struggle, and only one set of footprints. It didn't happen here. Yes. We should."
He led the way again. It was impressive for a human how quickly he was able to find each pair of prints, but probably not so impressive for a vampire. Not for a vampire who could discern her scent from a candle she only touched twice, nor for a vampire who could hear the blood pumping through her veins, nor for a vampire who should look like a corpse.
She imagined him that way again. Sunken face. Hollow eyes. Patchy hair. Overgrown nails. The mental image combined with the darkness surrounding her made her heart speed up. But not only in fear. He was a monster either way, wasn't he? She knew that from the beginning. It wasn't his face or his body that drew her to him. It was the fact that he was the only person in her life close to fully understanding her. She had the thought all that time ago. She would want him even if he was hideous.
Thinking about it affected her differently this time. Her heart ached acutely, like she lost someone new, but with none of the sadness that should come after. Still, for some reason, it made her want to cry. It used to be so difficult to make her cry before her parents died. Since then, she could tell by the constant weight in her chest that she could cry all day and night if she allowed herself. That weight was absent now. Why did that make her want to cry even more?
Before she could overthink her way to actually shedding tears, he halted, making her stop too. She watched as his head turned to the side and his shoulders went stiff. He turned off the flashlight, bathing them in complete darkness.
Though she couldn't quite see it, she kept her eyes trained on where his head should be. "What's wrong?"
"We're not alone."
A chill crawled down her spine. Unconsciously, she took a couple steps closer to him. Her fingers twitched around the stake. "Do you think it's him?"
There was a long pause. "I don't know."
"Hide up in the trees, like Anna did when we found you. I'll act as bait. If it's him, you can hop down and help."
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"I can handle getting hurt if it means we take him down."
There was another pause. She felt something brush against her hand, before realizing that it was his own. "Here. If I can feel where you are, I'll notice if he attacks you before it's too late. Something's not right."
The forest spoke more than she did. A rustle of leaves here. A brush of wind there. She didn't want to risk giving them both away more than she already was, but she wanted desperately to ask him what he meant. Something's not right. His words instilled fear in her; the kind of fear that made the dark night seem foreboding and full of evils that lurked just beyond the veil of human sense, ready to reach out and snatch her away.
Wordlessly, she threaded their fingers together. There was no reason to freak out. It was okay. They would keep each other safe. But now she had another reason to freak out. She barely noticed when he started pulling her forward.
My hand isn't sweaty, is it? No. It couldn't be. Or… it didn't feel like it. Focus, Angela. Why did it matter? She wouldn't care if Stefan's hand was perfectly dry. Why would he care if hers wasn't? Why did she care if he cared if hers wasn't? STOP OVERTHINKING, YOU COULD DIE. She was acting ridiculous. How come he always made her act ridiculous?
He continued through the forest without a sound. She tried to follow suit, but cringed whenever dry leaves crunched underfoot. She realized, when she started hanging out with vampires, how annoying humans could be. So clumsy and loud. A faint source of light shone in the distance, made brighter by the stifling dark. It moved this way and that, like a flashlight. Why would a vampire need a flashlight?
"Is that what's wrong?" she whispered, as quiet as a ghost. An answering squeeze around her hand was his only reply. Somehow, she knew it was a yes. Had he been able to see it from all the way back there, or had he heard something that tipped him off?
He led her in a different direction, and she watched as the light moved further and further to her left. Then it was gone completely, and he stopped. She carefully reached out in front of her. Her hand met bark. The light hadn't been turned off. They were behind a tree.
A stray gust of wind made her shiver. With nightfall came colder weather, and she hadn't taken the time to wear a coat before she left her house. She felt eyes on her. Stefan was watching. Quieter still than her voice came his.
"Are you okay?"
How often had they asked each other that? She'd never met anyone who showed more active concern about her well-being than him. Except for maybe Elena. Regardless, she nodded, since there was nothing he could do.
The light appeared again, on the other side of the tree. It had to be a human. Talking was safe again. What were they doing here? Were they with the Council?
"Do you see who it is?" she whispered.
"No. Too far away."
"How did you spot them in the first place?"
"I heard someone trip. Vampires have supernatural reflexes. We wouldn't trip unless somebody made us."
"Oh. Should we get closer?"
The answer was yes apparently, since he began guiding her to where the light got bigger. It was facing away from them, in the same direction they were heading. They were following directly behind. The sound of footsteps gradually got louder, making it evident that they matched her own more than they did Stefan's. Definitely a human. Then came the snap of a twig and a quiet, frustrated sigh. Angela smiled. Though immature, part of her delighted in someone sharing her misery.
The delight quickly passed when the human tripped over some roots and crashed into a tree. They—she—let out an exclamation of pain so familiar that Angela could recognize it in her sleep. She rushed forward and only realized that she was still attached to Stefan when his flashlight lit the way.
She let go of him in order to try and help, but flinched when she was met with a startled scream.
"Elena? Hey, it's okay. It's just me."
Elena's wild, almond-shaped eyes darted between her and Stefan. "Angie? Oh my God. Don't scare me like that."
"You're one to talk. I thought you were a murderer. Are you okay?"
Elena leaned against the tree and began to catch her breath. "Yeah. I'm… I'll be fine."
"What are you doing here?"
"I had a feeling I'd find you at the boarding house. By the time I caught up to you, you were already headed here."
"Wait. You followed me?"
Elena nodded. Who knew that such a small town could hold so many stalkers?
"You shouldn't be here alone," Stefan said, like it was more of a polite suggestion than a warning. "There's been another vampire attack."
For an entire month, Elena had barely acknowledged his existence, either out of fear or because when the fear wore off, she didn't know how to talk to him again. Now she forced herself into a position where she had to. "I know. Jeremy knows too."
Jeremy. Angela's heart sank. Of course he figured it out. The entire time Angela was freaking out over holding hands with someone, he was probably freaking out over something that actually mattered.
"I calmed him down," Elena continued. "But Jenna's confused. She thinks he was upset because someone died, not because… of what killed them."
Stefan averted his gaze, like it was his fault. Maybe in his mind it was. He and Anna failed. Now someone had to pay the price. Rather, three someones. A mother, her son, and another mother's son. He held his flashlight out towards Angela. "You should go home. Both of you. I can finish up here."
She took it instinctively before he finished talking. "No, I—"
"Stefan's right."
Angela turned towards her sister. Elena fidgeted under her intense gaze.
"You're still human, Angie. What can you do that he can't? I need you home with me where I know you'll be safe."
"How come you didn't stay at home, where I know you'll be safe?"
"Because you matter more to me than I do."
Angela let out a small, frustrated noise. 'I'm supposed to be protecting you,' she wanted to say, but it would be unseemly to have a family dispute in front of a third party. "Fine," she said instead. "But more so I can check on Jeremy than to barricade myself." She turned to Stefan. "I'm sorry I couldn't help as much as I wanted to. Or at all, really."
"You did," he said. "We have a plan now, thanks to you. What we're doing here isn't as important in the grand scheme of things."
But it was. If the Council was covering this up more than they had to, it could mean that they were planning something unfortunate, for her and for every vampire in town.
Angela unconsciously stepped closer, as if to shield him from harm. "Please be careful. I won't be able to forgive myself if you get hurt because of me."
"I will." He motioned towards the stake she was holding. "Keep that. You never know if you'll need it."
"Stefan." Elena captured his attention. "Can we talk tomorrow? I think we both have some explaining to do."
"Yeah. Of course. I, uh, I can escort you two home. Only if you want me to."
Angela smiled. "Asking for permission now, are we? I'm impressed."
"That was one time. And you would have done the same."
"True. But teasing you is more fun than admitting to my own shortcomings."
He matched her smile. "I can tell."
"No thank you," Elena cut in. "We can manage. I saw our car parked not too far from here."
He waited until Angela echoed the sentiment, then bid them a good night. As they walked further and further away, Angela glanced back and found him staring. Even though they refused him, he still wanted to make sure they were safe for as long as he could. It was sweet.
"Did you walk all the way here?" she asked Elena when they were a fair distance away.
"You didn't exactly give me another option." Elena's tone was significantly more irritated now that they were alone.
"How did you know where I was?"
"I called Anna first, to see if you were at her place. You saw that there was a vampire attack and left all determined, so where else could you be if you weren't with her?"
"With the other vampires. At the boarding house."
"Exactly."
"Your deductive skills don't negate the fact that you're insane."
"I'm not the one claiming to be from a different universe." That got Angela to laugh.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with Jeremy alone. I wasn't thinking. I got so angry. I thought it was Damon who did this."
"It wasn't?"
"No. We're thinking it was that stray whose work Caroline witnessed." At the mention of Caroline, or perhaps at how casually Angela mentioned the attack, Elena stiffened.
"So what now? I heard something about a plan."
"You know that old pocket watch Mrs. Lockwood wanted this year?"
"The one I couldn't find?"
"The one I stole."
"Wait, what?"
"You're a bad liar. If you knew I stole it you would make her suspicious."
"I thought we talked about this. I don't like being left in the dark."
"Maybe we should get out of the forest then."
It took a second for Elena to understand what she meant. "Now is not the time for dad jokes."
"Just hear me out. Please? When I'm done, you can yell at me all you want."
"I'm not—" Elena crossed her arms, tucking her hands tight against her jacket. "Fine. Okay. Tell me."
"It's part of a device enchanted by Emily Bennett. Johnathan Gilbert thought he was the genius behind its creation, but in truth he only built its skeleton. Emily was the one who actually made it work. Just by itself what we have up in the attic is a normal pocket watch, but if you combine it with its other half, it becomes a compass."
"A compass," Elena repeated. "Johnathan Gilbert's compass. Why does that sound familiar?"
"Because you've read his journal. And how he captured Pearl."
Horror dawned on Elena's face. "Oh my God. The compass that points to vampires. We've had that thing this entire time?"
"We've had part of that thing this entire time. Tyler has the other half. Rather, his father does. Sheila helped me out with a locator spell ages ago. I would've nabbed the little shit back then, but it would've made the Council suspicious. Now I'm afraid we don't have a choice."
"So you're going to use the compass to find the… stray?" The term made her noticeably uncomfortable, as if she was demeaning someone who didn't deserve to be demeaned.
"That's the plan."
"Okay. That works. But I'm joining you. I've gotten better at this whole hunting thing. I can defend myself." Elena moved a branch to the side so she could pass. Angela heard the tell-tale snap of a twig when she did. Clumsy.
"Sure. I was thinking of going over to Tyler's place before school tomorrow. You want to come with, or do you just want to join the actual hunting part?"
"Wow, just like that?"
"What were you expecting me to say?"
"Oh, I don't know." Elena changed her voice to be more high-pitched and nasally. "No, Elenuh, you can't just help the people you care about. I'm super smart and capable and I don't need help from a whiny little baby like you." Another snap.
"I do not sound like that."
"You sound like a chipmunk with a head cold."
"I do not."
"You do a little bit."
Angela pursed her lips. "Only a little bit. But in an elegant way."
Elena giggled. "It's endearing, don't worry."
"Huhuhuhuhu."
Elena looked at her like she was insane. Angela snickered.
"You make fun of my voice, I make fun of your laugh. Fair's fair."
"You know I'm insecure about that." Another snap.
"If it helps, I think it's endearing too."
"Really?"
"Really. You're so pretty that it only adds to your charm."
"Huh. I should stay at home. Make sure everything's okay. Can you leave the car for me though? Tyler can give you a lift to school. And stop breaking sticks, will you? It's distracting."
Angela slowed to a stop. She swiveled the flashlight around, making sure she got a 360° view of the area around them.
"Elena. Stop moving."
Elena gave her an odd look, but did what she said.
Snap.
Their eyes locked.
"That wasn't me," Angela said.
"That wasn't me either."
"Stefan?" Angela called quietly, light pressed against her thigh so it wouldn't give away their position. "If you followed us anyway, now would really be the time to show yourself."
Snap. Louder. There was a shuffle from a direction she couldn't pinpoint, like a snake slithering from its perch.
A tap on her shoulder brought her attention to Elena's drawn face. She nodded towards a tree. Angela strained to examine it without the aid of her flashlight. The trunk was thick. It stretched up high and had many branches, the two lowest of which mirrored each other and were cut off near the base. She looked at Elena questioningly, but she was still staring at the tree. Angela followed her gaze just in time to see one of the cut-off branches twitch. Her blood froze. It was barely noticeable, but it was enough to make her realize that it was strangely round. They both were. Like the sides of a head.
Instinct acted first, and she raised the flashlight to scan the two "branches." Two pairs of eyes glimmered like those of an animal.
She had a stake. Did Elena have one too? She wasn't carrying a bag. Did she have anything on her other than a stupid flashlight? She turned and saw her sister's pale face.
"Elena—"
A wall of force slammed into her body. Her stomach lurched and she impacted something hard. Pain exploded in the back of her head at the same time that she heard Elena scream. A weight pressed down on her chest. She struggled to see; Not because it was dark, but because her vision blurred heavily. The coarse dirt beneath her skin told her that she was on the ground. She clutched the stake harder. It was in her left hand. Her marked hand. Stun with the vervain, then strike. The weight on her chest shifted. A silhouette came into focus. Vampire.
Her arm shot out unthinkingly. Strike hard and don't hesitate. This was no longer a matter of theory. It was real. He was real. It was a matter of life or death, and she had to cause one in order to retain the other.
Cold fingers clamped down on her arm before she could reach his chest. Cold fingers with long nails. Claws. She heard her bones snap before the pain kicked in. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, and the thought occurred to her that no matter how loudly she screamed it wouldn't do the feeling justice. White lights danced at the edge of her vision.
"Elena," she croaked out. Where was she? Someone let out an injured hiss. She tried to pin down the direction it came from. Her attention returned to her own assailant when he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head to the side. Pain and panic made her nauseous. Her throat was completely exposed.
Think, Angela. Think. The stake had been dropped as soon as he snapped her arm. It shone under the effect of the flashlight—flashlights, plural?—that lay far away. She couldn't reach out far enough, and even if she could, the intense, throbbing ache she felt told her that she wouldn't be able to pick it up. She couldn't attack him with the vervain either, though not for lack of trying. She split her lip with how hard her teeth clamped down on it. Moving her arm was excruciating. Why the hell didn't she bring her supplies with her? Was she truly that impulsive? Damon brought out the worst in her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Her good hand shot out and began pawing at the dirt.
She still hadn't caught a glimpse of his face when he sank his fangs into her neck. That time she did cry out, though she barely heard it beneath the blood rushing to her ears. His hair brushed against her collarbones. Long hair. Thick, greasy rope. Her fingers grazed across a rock; small but jagged. She gripped it hard and made sure that the pointy end was facing up. With nothing but adrenaline fuelling her, she hauled it up and dug it into the side of his head. One, two, three, four times, and she realized that she had been yelling the entire time.
Finally, his fangs released her throat. Her head swam. Blood loss. She felt that very same viscous blood drip onto her lips as he snarled at her.
"Stop fighting."
Ironically enough, the demand had its desired effect. But not because she'd given up; because she'd been caught off guard. Puzzle pieces that she hadn't been aware were being presented to her until that moment came together to form a bigger picture. Long nails. Long hair. And now, a feminine voice. Her attacker was a woman.
The stake was gone. There was another injured hiss, followed by a deep, masculine growl. Then, a grunt that could only belong to Elena. She was fighting. She was alive. Angela gripped the rock so tight that it molded into her skin, becoming part of her. Hitting the vampire again would do nothing but delay the inevitable, but she had to try. Even though she couldn't feel her fingers and her mind was going numb, she had to try. She had to fight. She flashed her own teeth in a manic grin.
"No."
She struck the woman above her once more. Much to her surprise, she stiffened with a gasp. There was a loud, disgusting squelch, and then she fell forward, her full weight slamming into Angela and preventing her from moving at all. The dark silhouette of a man stood there, with her heart in his hand. Ichor trickled down his arm and onto the ground before he tossed the organ to the side. When he knelt down to grab the woman, Angela muttered his name.
"Stefan?"
He flung the corpse away from her. "You're okay," came his soft reply. "You'll be okay. Let me heal you."
She shook her head. "Elena."
"I can hear your heart slowing down. You're dying."
"Elena." He took a second too long to act, and she repeated herself more harshly. "Elena."
Elena was managing to keep her attacker away well enough on her own, with a mixture of the vervain on her skin—the vervain she evidently hid away was unsuccessful, if the smashed syringes were anything to go by—and the stake she had grabbed when Angela wasn't looking. But there was blood gushing down her forehead, and her movements were becoming slow and clumsy. The vampire used that to his advantage, grabbing ahold of her arm and pinning her against a tree. Elena shouted in fear. The sound snapped Stefan into action.
Angela's eyelids began to droop, and she struggled to stay awake. Between long, slow blinks, she saw Stefan rush to rip the other vampire's heart out as well. After another slow blink, Stefan was on the ground twenty feet away and hurrying to get back up. The vampire was advancing on him. Elena was trying desperately not to keel over. After the next blink, Angela couldn't feel her body, nor could she move it. But she could hear her heartbeat. It was sluggish, like Stefan said. She was dying.
The vampire flipped him back onto the ground and dug his hand deep into his chest. Stefan let out a noise akin to that of a wounded dog. It was sickening. The reality of the situation pushed its way through the fog in her mind. She wasn't the only one dying. They all were. Her sister was going to die, and so would the man she was… well, that didn't matter anymore. She was going to fall asleep, and when she woke she would be alone. Forever.
Angela blinked one last time. Who should I watch? Stefan would be quicker. He was practically dead already. His mouth moved. Words were exchanged, but she could hear nothing. Perhaps if she could, she would have heard Elena's shakily affirming herself. Perhaps if she was watching her instead, she would have seen her charge. She threw herself at the vampire, stake pointed forward, and struck.
The wood missed his heart, but it was close. And it was exactly what needed to happen. Instinct made him extract his hand from Stefan's chest with a roar. He clawed at his back to dig out the weapon, but it seemed he couldn't quite reach it. Stefan mustered enough strength to stand back up. He used his supernatural speed to appear behind the vampire. When he grabbed the stake and moved it just right, the vampire went still. Then, he fell. The stake stood tall from his dead body like a triumphant flag.
Stefan said something to Elena, but she waved him off and nodded at Angela. In a flash, Stefan was beside her. He moved his mouth, and she read his lips more than heard him speak. He muttered a few words of encouragement before biting down on his wrist and thrusting it forward. Gently cupping the back of her head, he guided her to drink. She did.
Feeling came back to her body slowly. First her vision cleared and the world stopped spinning. Then she heard heavy breathing coming from all three of them and got goosebumps as the cold night air caressed her features. The slight warmth that emanated from Stefan's skin helped keep her from shivering. Then the scent of blood—both vampiric and human—assaulted her senses.
Then…
It was like a blindfold that had kept her captive since birth was stripped away. She could feel things that she had never felt before. Not like this. Relief was the strongest one; so strong that it bordered on heartache. Then came pain; physical and emotional. Sorrow. Joy. Guilt. Regret. Shame was constant and lied beneath everything. Lingering anger, yet with a touch of accomplishment. The one that rendered her dumbstruck was the most basic emotion of all: love. Then finally, beneath all that, was the sweet, smooth taste of honey.
Elena's face came within view as she all but fell down. "She'll live, right?"
"Yes," Stefan whispered, his thumb tracing small circles on Angela's jaw. "She'll live."
Elena smiled shakily, about ready to cry. "Thank you. I don't know what we'd do if…" She forced back tears. "We'd be dead. If you didn't make it in time, we'd be dead."
"And I would be dead if you didn't attack when you did. Now you've both saved my life. I can never thank you enough."
"You don't have to. I think I understand. We work better as a team than we do apart. Angie was right. We should look out for each other. I'm sorry I didn't see that before. And I'm sorry I've been ignoring you. You must think I'm a bitch."
"No, I get it. I hated vampires for a long time too, even after I became one." Guilt. "We're monsters; a predatory species by nature." Regret. "As much as we try to suppress it, that urge is always there. To hunt. To hurt. To kill." Shame.
"So what changed? What made you stop hating them?"
"I met my best friend. And I thought, if she can hold so much love in her heart while being an abomination, who am I to call her that?" Love. "Is someone a monster if they enjoy making people happy? If they laugh loudly and dance freely and try to make people embrace the goodness in themselves? I couldn't think of her that way. You'll find someone like that too. Someone that will make you rethink everything you know about their kind. Our kind, I guess." Guilt. Regret. Shame. "Don't feel bad. I understand better than you think."
Elena flashed another smile. "Thank you. Really. And I would still like to have that conversation tomorrow, if that's okay. Maybe at lunchtime? You could sit with us."
"I'd love that."
Love.
Love, love, love.
"Great. It's settled. So, um… is she healed now?"
"I don't know." Stefan addressed Angela. "How do you feel?"
Intoxicated. The things she tasted were rich and inexplicable, like an endless pool of treasure. She wanted to keep exploring every inch, everything that lay beneath every coin and chalice, everything that made everything else exist. It was the center of the universe, a vast astral sea of knowledge, and she was the only creature capable of understanding. How could she go back to the blindfold? She couldn't go back to the blindfold.
"Angie?" Though she didn't want him to, he pried his wrist away from her mouth. She let out a small, displeased whine before she could stop herself. As soon as she swallowed the last of his blood, the treasure was gone. The blindfold returned.
Still, she was able to snap herself out of her loss long enough to answer. "I'm fine." She moved her arm. It didn't hurt.
Elena sighed in relief. "Good." She went to stand, but wobbled unsteadily and nearly fell back down.
"But you're not."
"No, I'll be okay. I'm just… I got really dizzy for a sec."
"You need help."
"I can heal you," Stefan said. "It won't be an inconvenience."
Elena hesitated. "I've never really… you know."
"What?"
"Had vampire blood."
"Have you had your own? From a papercut or…"
"Yeah."
"It tastes like that. Angie knows that already. Right?"
Angela blinked. "Um. Sure."
Elena silently contemplated her options for a while. In the meantime, Angela pushed herself up to inspect the two dead vampires. They were vaguely familiar, likely having been in town for a couple weeks. If she were to guess, she would say that they were turned in their early twenties. The main thing that troubled her was that the man was blond. Didn't Penny say he had dark hair?
"Do it." Elena's voice drew Angela back to her companions. Elena did her best to hide her repulsion when his blood met her tongue, but she wasn't very successful. As soon as she was healed, she pulled away. "Wow." She moved around as if checking for pain. "That's weird."
He chuckled and faced Angela. Now that she knew what to look for, it was easy to see in the way he regarded her. There was a caring gleam in his eyes, and the edges of his mouth curved minutely, like the sight of her alone was enough to lift his spirits. "How are you doing?"
"It wasn't him. The one that bit Penny."
"I know."
"We still need to find him."
"We will. Tomorrow."
She didn't bother responding. Instead, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her face pressed against his shirt and she let out a heavy breath, exhausted by the evening's events. "Thank you."
When he returned the hug and ran a tender hand through her hair, she repeated herself. She didn't know what else to say. She heard a quiet, "You're welcome," before he rested his chin atop her head. The weight of it was comforting, and it coaxed her to melt into him even further. She almost pitied anyone who hadn't tried this before. Stefan Salvatore gave great hugs.
Before it could get awkward, Angela pried herself away. Elena's eyebrows threatened to climb into her hairline. She was glancing back and forth between them suspiciously.
Angela cleared her throat. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we? I'm sure Jenna's getting worried, and I still want to check on Jeremy. Besides, we need to bury these bodies before anyone finds them."
That last comment made Elena's face drop. She looked at the two vampires on the ground. Her gaze lingered on the man. "You're right. They're dead. He's dead. Because of me."
"And you're alive because of you," Stefan said. "It was self defence. You'll need some time to process it, but promise me you'll keep that in mind. If you didn't do what you did, you and your sister would be dead."
"And Jeremy would only have Jenna," Angela added. "We need to do what's best for him. That's our duty as his older siblings." Her words didn't seem to do much. Elena looked absolutely haunted. "I hope you won't think badly of me for eating my words, but, Stefan, would you be so kind as to get us the hell out of here?"
"Like you have to ask."
The car ride home was as quiet as the one to the boarding house. Elena was dead still and barely blinked, her empty stare betraying the chaos inside her mind. She reminded Angela of a ghost. It worried her a lot, but what was there for her to do?
"Stop fidgeting," Elena mumbled.
"What?"
"You won't stop moving around. You're nervous. About me." Even her voice was absent of life.
"Can you blame me?"
"No."
The engine returned to being the most talkative party there. Angela clicked her tongue over and over, before remembering what Elena said and forcing herself to stop.
"You have feelings for him."
And there goes the steering wheel. Angela scrambled to grab it before they could crash into a light pole.
"What!" The word came out as a squeak. "What— I— um… Wow. I wasn't expecting—"
"Me to notice it?"
"You to mention it. At least, not right now."
"I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. Friends don't hug friends like that."
"Well… surprise?"
"How long?"
"You want the truth, right?" Elena nodded. "I'm pretty sure it happened as soon as I laid eyes on him."
"Oh. But you kept pushing me to go for him anyway?"
"I didn't want to get in the way of your happiness. Although, honestly, I think the reason I pushed you as much as I did is because I wanted to fix my mistake."
"What mistake?"
"Are you sure you want to talk about this right now? You're a little traumatized."
"How come you're not?"
"I will be. Trauma just sinks in slower when I have someone else to worry about."
Elena was looking down at her lap. "I want to talk about this. It's better than the alternative."
Angela bit her lip anxiously. "Just promise me you'll hear me out, okay? I don't want you to make any assumptions."
"Is it really that bad?"
"Elena. Promise me."
"I promise."
She told her everything. From how Tanner's death made her shut down, to how badly it hurt to get knocked against that tree, to the way she felt when Sheila went unconscious, to how difficult it was to get the twigs out of her hair, to the whiskey that burned her throat, and finally, to Stefan kissing her and what they did after. She rambled a lot, veered off target and stumbled over her words in a speech better suited to someone who barely knew English, but she got it all out like she promised herself she would. Elena kept her promise too, staying silent until she was finished. By the time she was, they were already in the driveway.
"I'm so sorry," Angela repeated for the hundredth time. "Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Don't sugarcoat anything."
"I don't hate you." Elena sounded tired, though not as monotone as before. "I could never hate you. I'm just a little hurt that it took you this long to tell me."
"I was terrified of what your reaction would be. I didn't want to hurt you. Although I guess I would have done that either way."
"It was wrong of you to do what you did with him. Understandable, but still wrong."
"Thank you! I tried to tell Sheila the same thing, but she completely dismissed it on account of the drinking."
"I forgive you, if you need to hear that. It would probably hurt a lot more if I still cared about him that way, but as things are, I forgive you."
"You have no idea what a relief that is to hear."
"I'm glad you told me, even if it was a little later than it should have been. And… you also told Bonnie's grams?"
"She's not just 'Bonnie's grams' to me. She's one of my closest friends. I figured it would be easier to tell her first, since I didn't risk hurting her like I risked hurting you. Though to be fair, she did push the subject. Wanted to know why her whiskey was gone. This town really needs to start holding some AA meetings."
Elena laughed for the first time since the attack. "Sorry. I just realized how insane our lives are. We almost died, I helped kill someone, you had sex with a vampire, and now we're talking about our witch best friend's freshly coma-free grandma needing to solve her alcohol issues. What went wrong?" Her laughter became more unhinged the more she spoke, until tears started gathering at the corners of her eyes. Eventually, all laughter left, though the tears remained. She raised a hand to cover her mouth. "I helped kill someone. Oh my God, Angela, I helped kill someone. He's dead because of me."
Angela unbuckled her seatbelt and reached over to hug her. Elena provided no resistance, eagerly leaning into her embrace amidst her steady mantra of, "He's dead because of me."
"It's okay," Angela murmured against her head. "Let it out. We're safe now."
"No, we're not. We won't be safe until we get inside. We won't even be safe then, because the monster that killed Mom and Dad could come back and finish us off."
"You can't think like that. Every day could be our last. The more you focus on your mortality the faster you'll go insane."
"Is this what it's going to be like from now on? Death everywhere I look? Is sixteen years all I got as a normal person?"
"You want the truth, right?" Elena nodded. "Yes."
Elena cried harder, becoming breathless in her grief. Angela stayed with her, holding her in silence. It seemed to help. After a long time, the gasping sobs died down, and the only sound that came from Elena was some errant sniffing. She was retrieving a pack of tissues from the glove compartment when she spoke back up. "We need to tell Jenna." Her voice was dead again. "It's too dangerous for her not to know. She needs to protect herself."
"I agree."
"So why haven't we done it already?"
"I wanted to make sure we were on the same page, you and me. You went anti-vampire for a bit. I wanted to make sure our different opinions wouldn't confuse her."
Elena finished blowing her nose. "I think I'm good now. Or… good-ish. I won't contradict you in front of her."
"Then we'll tell her. But what about Jeremy?"
"What about him? He already knows."
"Shouldn't we warn him that we plan on telling her what really happened in May?"
"Oh. Right. You're right." Elena took a deep breath and opened the door. "Okay. Let's do this."
Angela's eyebrows rose in shock, but she followed her outside. "Tonight?"
"Why not?"
"Won't it be too emotionally taxing? I mean, like you said, we almost died."
"I already feel terrible. Might as well get it over with."
"Well… okay. If you're absolutely positive."
"I am."
They found Jenna and Jeremy in the kitchen. Jeremy was sitting at the island, wrapped in a fluffy robe that was much too big for his short, thin frame. A mug of hot chocolate was in his hands and he was listening intently as Jenna regaled him with some story about her dumb teenage years. She was in pajamas as well, with her hair up in a bun and her contacts out in favor of her thick, black glasses. As soon as she caught sight of the twins, her face fell. She rushed over to them and swept them up in a hug, saying how glad she was that they were okay and to never ever scare her like that. It proved to be too much for Elena, as she began to cry all over again. Satisfied that Jenna had the situation handled, Angela slipped away to speak to her brother.
"Hey, buddy."
Jeremy set his mug down and pulled her by the arms until they were hugging too.
"Lena told me what happened. How are you?"
He squeezed her harder, before pulling away. "Better."
Relief coursed through her veins. "I'm glad. Do you think you're okay enough to talk about you-know-what for a sec?"
Jeremy went still. He looked to the side; at Jenna and Elena. He looked back at Angela. Finally, he nodded.
Angela smiled, both because she was proud of him and because she wanted to make him feel at ease. "I'll make it quick. How do you feel about letting Jenna know that vampires exist?"
His blue eyes examined her carefully. "Why?"
"Because if she knows, she can defend herself." He seemed unconvinced. "What if she finds out on her own? It'll hurt her to know that the three kids she's taking care of didn't tell her what actually happened to her own sister."
"She'll want to talk to me. I was there."
"It doesn't matter what she'll want. She'll respect your boundaries, the way she always has."
Jeremy's chest began to rise and fall faster. "She'll push. Sheriff pushed. I didn't see anything."
"She won't push you. She would do anything in her power to make you feel safe."
"Not safe. Animal attack. Can't escape it."
"Jeremy…"
"Weak. Stupid. Can't say. Only witness. Saw nothing." His hand motions were getting sloppy, and he gave up on forming full sentences.
"Hey, hey. It's okay. You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to. Let me and Elena handle this. You're not weak, and you're especially not stupid. You're just… scarred."
He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing until it went back to normal. He opened his eyes and nodded once more. "Tell her. Without me."
"If that's what you want."
He didn't respond for a long time, choosing instead to finish his drink. Then, he simply said, "I love you."
"I love you too, kid. And don't worry. I'm taking care of it. If all goes well, you won't hear of any animal attacks for a long time."
"Is this like the tomb thing?"
"Something like that. Promise me you'll keep what I told you in mind. If I ask you to do something that sounds illogical, it's because I'm trying to protect you."
He shifted his weight. "You're in danger."
"We'll all be in danger if I do nothing. But I know it's unfair. You deserve a better life than this."
"My life's not over yet."
"You're right. It's not."
He gave her a long look, and she could tell that there was something more he wanted to say. He decided against it. For now. "Late. Tired. Bed."
"You should sleep. I'm sorry I ruined family night."
"You didn't. News did."
"Yeah, I guess. I'm still sorry."
He extended a hand to ruffle her hair. If she wasn't mistaken, he was rough on purpose, completely messing up the work she did to look presentable after being manhandled by a bloodthirsty psycho. A smile broke out on his face when he was done. "Now we're even." With that, he bid goodnight to the others and waltzed upstairs to his room. She wasn't even mad.
Elena had mostly calmed down, and Jenna herded her over to take Jeremy's place at the island.
"You want some hot cocoa too?" Jenna said worriedly. "What am I saying, of course you do. Hot cocoa makes everything better. Let me make you some hot cocoa. With marshmallows. Got to have marshmallows. Mini or normal sized?"
"Aunt Jenna," Elena cut her off. "We need to talk."
Jenna deflated. "Of course, Elena. Whatever you want."
"I have something— we have something we need to tell you. Something important. And now that I'm actually saying this, I feel really nervous. I don't know why. Sorry."
Jenna took her hand. "Hey. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"
Elena gave her a tense smile. "Promise me you'll hear us out?"
"Why would I not?"
"Because this is going to sound completely crazy. But we have proof, I swear. A box full of their things, up in the attic."
"Whose things?"
"Mom and Dad."
"I'll get it, if that's okay," Angela said quietly.
"Yeah, of course."
Truth be told, Angela was glad for an opportunity to go up there. Ever since she experienced whatever the hell it was she experienced when she drank Stefan's blood, she had so many unanswered questions. And she was desperate to experiment.
A wave of cold hit her face when she pulled the freezer open. What was left of Pearl's plastic-covered blood was chilly beneath her fingertips, and she carefully brought it up to her mouth.
At first there was nothing but the expected cinnamon flavor, but when she kept searching deeper, knowing that there was something more to taste, she felt it. At the edges of her mind, she felt betrayal. Regret. Sorrow. Resolve. At the very forefront, there was only one emotion: rage. It was so strong it made her want to kill somebody.
Then it stopped. She pulled the bag away. There was no more blood. She stood there for a while, staring at nothing and thinking. Pearl was angry when she gave her the blood. Was that what she tasted? Pearl and Stefan's current—or past—emotions? If so, was the intensity of the blood's base flavor related to it in any way? She wanted to try Anna's blood as well, to test the theory further, but she imagined that after the incident at school she wouldn't be as inclined to share. She would feel bad asking for blood from Harper, like she was taking advantage of his kindness, and as for Damon… absolutely fucking not. Regardless, one thing was for certain. She needed to talk to Sheila. Soon.
When she returned to the kitchen, Jenna had her head in her hands, listening to Elena talk about the secret compartment in their lake house that contained hunting gear. It was clear from the look on her face that she was torn between thinking that they were delusional and trusting two people that loved her. Angela set the box down in front of them with a thud. Caroline's training showed itself through the lack of strain she felt from carrying it down two flights of stairs.
"What's in that?" Jenna asked warily.
"Journals from Dad's side," Elena said as Angela opened it. "Stakes. Vervain. Mom's old diary. She used to tell you stories about them, didn't she?"
"She did. I always assumed she made them up. She loved to write stories."
"But these stories only started after she met Dad, didn't they?" Angela said.
"Yeah. They did." Jenna reached in to pluck a sprig of vervain. "This is the plant that burns… vampires." She said the word like she couldn't believe herself. "Right?"
Elena nodded. "That's right. And if it's on you or in you, you're protected from a vampire's compulsion."
Jenna looked through the box's contents some more, before drawing back with a sigh. "This is a lot."
"I know. But I promise, if you go up to any member of a founding family and act like you're absolutely sure vampires exist, they'll tell you the same thing."
"I suggest Sheriff Forbes," Angela said. "She'll have the most to say."
Elena gave her a warning look, letting her know that they hadn't gotten to that part yet. "There's something else."
Jenna laughed dryly. "What now?"
"Mom and Dad. We, and the sheriff, have reason to believe that the person that broke into our house that night… the person that murdered them…" Elena took a steadying breath. "We're pretty sure it was a vampire attack."
Jenna stared at her in disbelief. "You're telling me," she said slowly, "that my sister was killed by a vampire."
"Yes."
Jenna stared at her for another long moment. Her chin wobbled. "Okay. Elena. If you're lying to me—"
"She's not," Angela cut in. "I swear on my life. We're not crazy. I can prove it. Just— hold on." She rushed up to her bedroom and rifled through her purse until she found the last remaining vial of Pearl's blood. Careful not to let it fall, she descended to the ground floor and rejoined them. "Give me your hand."
"Why?"
"You'll find out."
Jenna eyed her skeptically, but placed her palm in Angela's.
"Elena. Bring me a knife."
Panic flashed across Jenna's face. "What?" She attempted to pull her hand back, but Angela held firm. "Let me go."
"You'll only believe if it happens to you." Angela gave her a reassuring smile. "You know I would never truly hurt you." She grasped the handle of the kitchen knife. "Just a small cut."
"I'm putting on a brave face here, but you two are really starting to freak me out."
"It's okay," Elena said. "I promise. You'll be fine. If anything, that's the freaky part."
Before Jenna could open her mouth to respond, Angela sliced the side of her thumb with the knife. She yelped in surprise, and when she went to pull her hand back, Angela let her. "What the hell!"
Angela held up the vial. "This is vampire blood. Has Elena told you anything about it?"
"You can't just cut people like that!"
"Aunt Jenna. Please. Tell me what you know about vampire blood."
"Wh— Th— that you need to drink it in order to become one of them, and…" She finally seemed to understand. "And that it heals injuries. You want me to drink blood?"
"You can use it as ice cream syrup if you need something to mask the taste."
Jenna blanched.
Elena shot Angela a bewildered look. "Ignore her. It tastes just like your own. Think of it like sticking your finger in your mouth after getting a papercut."
"No. I'm not drinking someone's blood. This is too far. I believe that you believe what you're saying, but—"
"Aunt Jenna." Angela begged her with her eyes. "Please. We wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't important. You know that in your gut. You don't have to do anything I say ever again, but please, please, if you only ever do one last thing for me, have it be this."
Jenna's nose crinkled. With great hesitation, she took the vial from her grasp. "God, I hope you're not crazy."
"I think that would actually be preferable in the long run."
"Where did you even get this?"
"That's a story for another time."
"Ugh. Okay." Jenna shuddered. "Jesus, I can't believe I'm doing this. Well… here goes nothing." She threw it back like a shot of vodka, and nearly made herself choke with how quickly she swallowed it all. After a moment of disgusted silence, her face cleared, and she brought her hand up to see that the cut was gone. "What in the world?" Soon after, she hissed and took off her glasses. She blinked rapidly. When she stopped, her gaze wandered around the room. "Whoa."
"What?"
"I can see fine. What…" Jenna put her glasses back on, but looking through them seemed to hurt. She set them down. "Am I dreaming?"
"No," Elena said. "This is real. It's completely impossible, but it's real."
"I… I don't know what to say. I'm not going to start shooting webs out of my hands, am I?"
Elena smiled. "You'll be fine. I didn't know that vampire blood could restore a person's eyesight. I guess it makes sense."
"This is crazy. You know that, right? I mean even if it's all real, it's still crazy."
"I know."
"Did Grayson ever use this? To heal people?"
"He did," Angela said. "How could he not?"
"It's why he never let anyone look through his clinic," Elena said. "I put the pieces together when I was twelve."
"You guys have known about this for that long?" Jenna looked like someone punched her. "And here I thought I was doing okay. Not as well as Miranda, but still okay. It's my job to look after you, and I didn't even know where to start. Assuming that what you gave me actually is vampire blood, because no offence, but it's still hard to believe. I mean, vampires, of all things? Freaking vampires. What's next, witches and werewolves?" Jenna looked at them expectantly, but when they stayed silent, her eyes went wide. "You're kidding."
"W— well," Elena stammered, "I don't know about werewolves, but… um… Bonnie may or may not be a witch. And so may Ms. Sheila. We can prove that too. I can ask Bonnie to come over tomorrow, and she can light some candles with her mind."
"Are you going to be okay?" Angela asked warily. "This is a lot of life-changing information we're dumping on you."
Jenna had her head in her hands again. "Uh, yeah, you think? You do that, Elena. It's a good idea. I think. I'm pretty sure I'm getting a migraine. Does Jeremy know?" They nodded. "Of course he does. I'm such a bad guardian. I promise I'll pay more attention to you from now on."
"None of this is your fault. It's ours. We kept it a secret. You're doing the best you can, which is pretty damn good."
"Thanks, Angie. I just…." Jenna rubbed her temples. "I think I'm going to go lie down. I need to… I don't know what I need to do. Can we talk about this later?"
"Yeah, of course." Elena gave her a soft smile. "Sleep well, okay?"
"I'll try. Don't stay up too late."
They exchanged goodnights, and Jenna went up to the second floor. Angela waited to hear her door click shut before addressing Elena. "That went well."
"I thought she was going to lock us up in a mental hospital."
Angela chuckled. "You think she'll get any sleep?"
"Probably not. Will you? We went through a lot."
"Honestly? I think I'll sleep like a baby. But first, I need to take a shower."
"Me too. Wanna go before me? You still have blood in your hair."
"I do? Do you think they saw it?"
"Probably not. They would have said something."
"Good. We would have been talking until the sun rose if they did."
"Yeah. Speaking of… wouldn't it be better to show her concrete proof?"
"You mean an actual vampire? I thought about that too. I'll let you handle it, since you're already doing the same thing with Jeremy."
"Okay. I'm glad you're learning to trust me more."
"It's not that I don't trust you. I'll let you know everything eventually. I just want to make sure you're ready to hear it first."
"I get that. Doesn't make it any less frustrating, but I do get it. You should go before you fall asleep. You look exhausted."
"I am." She gave Elena's shoulder a squeeze. "You did really well tonight."
"Anna's a good teacher."
"You've only been training for a month. That's not Anna. That's you. You're a natural."
Elena didn't reply, but it was clear what she was thinking: 'Being a natural killer is nothing to be proud of.'
The shower was refreshing and heavenly, but not nearly as heavenly as the feeling of stretching out on her freshly made bed. She almost didn't want to go back down to tell Elena she was done.
A sudden ting at her window made her jump. She turned her head in its direction, and saw a pebble fly at the house moments before it hit the window with another sharp ting. Her eyes narrowed. She checked her phone. No new texts. If it was Stefan or one of her living friends, they would have let her know they were coming over. She pushed herself up and crossed the room. When she shoved the window open and looked down, she groaned in despair.
"Really?"
Damon, standing just a few feet away from the house, waved at her with his fingers. She scoffed and went to close the window, but was met with resistance. Her heart leapt to her throat when she realized it was his hand. He was inches away from her.
"Now, now," he chided. "Where are your manners? It's rude to turn a guest away."
Was he fucking floating? A glance downward told her that no, he wasn't. He was holding himself up by his arm against her windowsill. Good. That wasn't as silly. She didn't know what she would do with the information that vampires could fucking float.
"You're giving off some seriously rapey vibes right now."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought I should let you know how things went with Carol. And seeing as I don't have your phone number," he said pointedly, "I thought that paying you a visit would be sufficient."
"What if I was sleeping?"
"I would have found you tomorrow. You're easy for me to track down now that I have your scent."
"God, you're weird."
"Most women think I'm charming."
"Most women don't know that you're a self-absorbed psychopath." She crossed her arms to combat the chill. "So tell me. What's so important that you just had to visit me?"
"For starters, I'll have you know that I am not self-absorbed, considering the first chance I got, I asked Carol about you."
That got her attention. "And?"
"We can talk about that as soon as you let me in." He shuddered and gave her a grimace. "It's cold out here."
She remembered Anna's words. Vampires weren't affected by the weather. "No."
"No?"
"No. You stay right there…" She grabbed the warm, fluffy blanket resting on the window seat. "I'll stay right here…" She climbed onto her bed, sitting criss cross and giving him a lovely smile. "And we'll have a nice, friendly conversation. Okay?"
"You're annoying."
"I'm sure you use that on every girl," she cooed.
He narrowed his eyes. "I don't need your permission. I've already been invited in. I can just climb over."
"Do that. In fact, here." She moved her hair away from her neck. "Come, take a bite. I'm sure you're starving. Let's see how fast everyone can come running when I scream." Somehow, being put in an intense, life-threatening situation made Damon seem a lot less frightening than before. Whatever he did to her couldn't be worse than what she'd already gone through.
His previously alluring visage became twisted by a scowl. "Don't tempt me, Angela."
"And what if I do? What are you going to do? Come on, Damon. Come in and bite me. Hell, go ahead and choke me too, since you're into that kind of thing. Scare me. Put me in my place. I dare you."
She saw the dilemma in his stormy eyes. He wanted to show her that he wasn't one to be challenged, but at the same time he didn't want to do what she said. By charging into the room and attacking her he would be obeying someone that irritated him, and Damon Salvatore couldn't have that. She chuckled and let her hair cover her neck.
"Maybe you're the predictable one after all. Not Stefan."
A soft, inhuman growl emanated from his throat. She remained unbothered.
"I'm sorry, is it only fun when you're taking charge? And here I thought you were a bottom."
"Angela. Stop talking."
"Oh. Is it only fun when you sexually intimidate people too? Bummer."
He drew a deep breath through his nose and held it there. "I think I'll just leave, and you'll never know what Carol told me."
She laughed, amused that he relented; in his own way. "No, no, stay. I promise I'll be good. So tell me, did you manage to worm your way into her married little heart?"
"I don't kiss and tell." His voice was full of sarcasm. When he saw that she was intent on keeping her promise and 'being good' he continued. "She thinks you're in way over your head. So does everyone else, apparently. They think you're blinded by grief and too emotionally driven to be of any help."
"Hm. Not surprising, but still disappointing. Did you defend me?"
"Would you defend me?"
"I already have, many times."
"Ah. Right. Because I would be dead if it wasn't for you, is that it? Then again, the only reason people in this town would want to kill me in the first place is because you told them what I am."
"Everyone needs leverage."
The smile he gave her aroused suspicion. "I know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you think I got access to your house just because Caroline got on my nerves? You try to kill me, I'll make sure you never see your family again. Not because I'll take you away. Because I'll take them."
A spike of anger flared up inside her chest, not unlike when she drank Pearl's blood. She kept her voice calm. "This isn't the way to start making amends."
"You'd do the same thing and you know it."
"No, I wouldn't. Because I'm not as antagonistic and hot-headed as you. The fact that I've been on the receiving end of your abuse instead of the giving end is proof of that. I want you to apologize for how you treated me today."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm respecting your wishes and staying outside, aren't I?"
"Do you act difficult on purpose or are you just that dumb? For how you treated me at the boarding house. Grabbing me. Leaning in all close. Talking about making me your pet. Does sexually intimidating women make you feel powerful?"
"It wasn't you."
"What?"
"It wasn't you I was talking to." His response made her stare in confusion. If it wasn't her, then who…
Stefan.
It was Stefan. It was Stefan he was talking to when she approached him about being her date to the Founders' Party too. He must have heard that he would be listening. "You want to make Stefan uncomfortable. Not me." At least, not anymore. Not since he realized that she wasn't a goody-two-shoes.
"My brother never could resist rescuing a damsel in distress."
"Don't you think the two of you are a little too old for these childish games?"
"You don't need to lecture me about the sacred bonds of family and how unfairly you think I treat sweet Saint Stefan. You've made your opinion on that very clear."
"Too bad you refuse to listen. Just talk to him. Is that so hard?"
There was a heavy beat of silence. "Yes. I did defend you. It would have made me look spineless if I didn't."
Irritation crept up at the fact that he dodged the subject. Still, she decided to humor him. "That's the only reason?"
"Fine. I'll admit. I kind of like this whole Bonnie and Clyde thing we've got going on. It's fun."
"Do you?"
"Mhm."
"Good. Because I have another 'heist' for us to pull off." One that, truthfully, was once his own, but she would sooner rip her own tongue out than tell him that.
"Oh?" He seemed intrigued. "Do tell."
She glanced behind her out of instinct, wanting to make sure that they wouldn't be overheard. "How do you feel about framing a vampire?"
Hope 19k words makes up for my absence!
Fun fact, to make this chapter more accurate I watched a behind the scenes tour of Stefan's bedroom, and the guy showing us around pointed out a Jimmy Buffett album, so that's why I included it in here. Even funner fact, the man's got a song called Cheeseburger in Paradise on the same album. Good times.
