TThe silhouette of the figure was coming closer and closer, until I could see nothing but its black boots; robust sole, probably a size nice. Quickly, my brain sorted through this information, casting it aside when it realized it did me no good in my current situation of being trapped in a car turned upside down.
But a notice that, however, was useful to keep in mind was one I noted as the figure bent down next to my broken car window, exposing his clearly male face to me. His black hood was up, but even so I saw tufts of brown hair surrounding a squarish-shaped face with a pair of brown eyes in the middle of it. They seemed to widen, perhaps with realization, before he suddenly sped away, leaving me unharmed in the car.
What now?
My gaze beginning to turn slightly foggy around the edges had me squinting in a feeble attempt to scout and make sure he was really gone. The chances that the vampire was just playing with me crossed my mind; the bastards always seemed to have a habit of doing that with their so called 'food'. Oh wait, now I was referring to myself as food? Just great! Clearly, I'd hit my head a lot worse than initially believed.
Another whooshing sound of a speeding vampire had me ripped from my thoughts and flicking my head in its direction, expecting the Hood to have returned. When I saw who it actually was, I placed a hand to my chest with relief, soon dropping it to instead hold my aching head, where the pain had turned even worse by that rapid movement.
"Hey, you okay in there?" Damon inquired.
"Eh, I've been better," I admitted. It came out sounding weak.
"You look stuck."
"No shit, Sherlock." Clearly, the sarcasm wasn't working for me or my raspy voice right now. Instead, the world was spinning faster and faster, and every word coming out of my mouth hurt all the way through my throat and down into lungs.
Tugging at my seatbelt, Damon yet again confirmed the obvious, before quietly but firmly instructing me to put my hands to the roof. As I obeyed – without questioning, which should be saying something about my state – a weird mess of thoughts buzzed around my mind.
Was the roof still the roof? Shouldn't it be the floor now? Given that the car was upside down. Did it mean that the roof now counted as the floor; or – since we were outside – even the ground? Truly, I must have hit my head badly.
"You ready?" Damon called me back to the present. Blinking slowly, I watched my hands pressing down on the roof slash floor, and nodded at him. "One," he began counting slowly and clearly, forcing my attention to him and my task before he quickly finished, "two, three!" The seatbelt easily snapped at his vampire strength, and my hair had barely grazed the roof slash floor before he'd caught me. "There we go." I felt my body being pulled out of the wreckage, and soon my feet were touching the paved road. Even as I guided what strength of mine that remained to go to my feet and legs and keep me standing, it still only resulted in my legs caving in under me and Damon once again having to catch me.
Quickly, my focus was redirected to trying to keep my heavy eyelids open, to such an extent I just barely caught Damon's voice calling my name. And maybe asking me how I felt? If so, then the answer would've been horrible! Although, not going to lie, I'd been worse. Don't complain about pain until you've lived through a bomb exploding.
"Parker?" Damon forced my attention with. I felt his hand lightly grab my chin, and I really, really tried to force my eyes open. Succeeding, a hazy image of a slightly concerned face hovering a few inches over me was what I could focus on, for but a moment. By Damon's lips moving, I came to the conclusion that my hearing had apparently given up as well. Whilst smiling slightly at his concerned gaze and the gentle arm wrapped around my waist to keep me from hitting the hard ground, I suddenly remembered my purpose for this midnight drive.
"Elena!" I whispered with as much force as I could muster – not very much, that was – before my consciousness faded.
Despite blackness having swept in, however, I could've sworn I felt a hand gently stroking my forehead, before a feeling of being as light as air filled my entire being and I drifted away completely.
I awoke with a jerk. But it took me a moment or two to understand why. Until I heard a car's roaring engine and once again felt the vehicle jump slightly as it drove over another bump in the road. It had to be a country road then, a paved street in a town would never be this bumpy. But I couldn't for the life of me remember why I would be in a moving car on a rural road! Then it hit me, at the same time as the pain, actually.
Groaning, I slowly opened my eyes whilst carefully moving around a bit in my seat. The bright light hit my face, and I moaned while trying to shield myself from it. Since I had nothing but my hands for this covering, I wasn't very successful.
"Morning!" a chipper voice exclaimed from my left. Slowly, I turned my head and squinted my eyes at the figure in the driver's seat next to me.
"You dick."
"Not a morning person, huh?" Damon smirked and glanced over at me. I simply grunted. "I figured as much."
Outside the car, green meadows encircled by barbed wire fences flashed by, and even further away from the road a forest could be hinted. Yep, definitely a country road. Still:
"Where the hell are we?"
"Georgia," Damon, just as cheerfully, replied. Carefully, I turned to look at him.
"You're kidding." It was as much a question as a demand.
"I'm really not." The amusement in Damon's voice was hard to miss, so he was probably being serious about our location, then. Damn.
"Okay… Why?" I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pinning my eyes shut. A blinding headache had decided to appear, and the car's jumpy trip over the several bumps in the road wasn't exactly helping in reducing it.
"Oh, you'll just have to wait and see."
"Ha, ha." I forced my eyes open, or at least managed to squint them, to throw a murdering glance his way. My body ached, my lungs felt like two ruptured balloons, and the throbbing headache was indeed getting worse and worse by every jump the car made. I needed some air. Stat. "Pull over," I demanded.
"That's not gonna happen."
"I said," I began slowly, viciously, "pull over!" My voice reached a high, worth applauding by even Bella, but it didn't make my hard tone any less firm. Damon rolled his eyes, but still drove to the side of the road.
Once the car came to a stop, I practically kicked the door open to reach the fresh air as fast as possible. Instantly, I doubled over and forced a deep breaths into my lungs, trying to make my heart rate slow down.
The familiar whooshing sound of a vampire was heard, but I held up my hand, stopping Damon before he got a chance to support me or ask how I felt or whatever the heck he had been planning on doing. With my behavior quickly switching, I couldn't blame the guy for being a little worried. But never would I need someone to come and help or rescue me; I was pissed enough about Damon doing that when I'd been drunk, and again last night after my car crash. Actually, thinking about it, I sure as hell wasn't going to give him another opportunity to repeat the act!
"I'm fine," I muttered, straightening up. Damon didn't look convinced, but when I refused to elaborate, he shrugged and dropped the matter.
"If it makes you feel any better, you don't have any broken bones. I checked." Damon's smirk as he leaned against his light blue car with his arms folded over his chest was enough to confirm he'd both heard and meant the underlying sexual aspect of his statement. No matter, I was simply too drained of energy to scold him for it.
"How reassuring," I only mustered up with a stiff posture. Then, my buzzing phone interrupted us.
Even as jumpy as I was from everything that had happened, I thought myself collecterd enough to not react to my phone vibrating from my backpocket, but it had me flinching regardless. Pulling it out, I sighed when I saw the cracking pattern on the display, almost similar to a spider's web; how the thing could still work was actually perplexing. I could only barely make out the name Elena on the screen, but nonetheless wrinkled my nose at the sight of it. Boy, she would freak when she heard about the car crash. Truth be told, I wasn't even sure if I was ready to take that just yet.
As if Damon had read my mind, he asked: "Are you gonna answer that?"
"Well…" I continued staring at the display, picturing Elena ready to yell at me from the other end as she impatiently waited for me to accept the call. But before my mind had anymore time to imagine my sister's scolding, probably alternated with some worried words that her damn compassionate side always had to butt in with, Damon pushed himself off the car and slipped my phone from my grasp.
"Parker's phone," he answered in a casual tone. I couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but the pieces I gathered from Damon were enough for me to make an elaborate guess. Right about now, Elena or Stefan was interrogating Damon about my well-being, or something of the sort
"Oh, she's right here. Perfectly fine," Damon spoke with a glance over at me.
More attempts at pressing information out of him were then made; maybe even a threat? At least by the way Damon's eyebrows twitched slightly gave me that particular idea.
"Yeah, I don't really think she wants to talk to you," Damon said with an acted troubleness to his voice, as if he really didn't want to be the one to break these news, although my guess was he was rather enjoying it. Anyhow, he didn't even have to search my face for confirmation about his statement, it was pretty obvious. "No, neither of you two." So the phone was changing users now.
Suddenly, Damon withdrew the phone to hold it a few inches away from his ear with a roll of his eyes. He tried opening his mouth to say something into the device, but whoever was rambling on clearly wouldn't let him interrupt. Eventually, he just hung up and turned to me.
"You're right. That sister of yours sure can talk."
"I've had front row tickets to confirm that more than once," I scoffed. The smirk on Damon's face was a little too victorious, so I decided to erase it. "I still wanna know where we're going. And, might I add, I'm not so keen on being in Georgia to begin with. Or, you know, being swept away from my life. I actually have things to do!" I finished with crossing my arms to underline my words. Damon tilted a questioning brow at me, but I didn't budge.
"Trust me, you're not gonna be disappointed by where we're going. Besides, what do you have to lose? Wanna go back home to face your sister instead?" He did make a compelling argument there…
"Fine!" I muttered, with reluctance. "But you better be right," I added and moved to get back into the car, speaking to Damon over its roof.
"Oh, trust me. I know who I'm dealing with," he smirked.
Of course, the damn Damon was right.
We drove into a small community – finally some paved roads – and pulled over by a beige building with an equally beige awning over the double doors and the words 'Bree's Bar' written in cursive, turquoise letters. As I stepped out of the car, I made sure to avoid Damon's gaze.
"Well?" he inquired with a smug smirk.
"Oh, shut up!" I snapped back at him. Meeting his gaze, I did it with a roll my eyes. "Fine! You were right. Happy?"
Damon's smirk said it all, and even though it was getting on my nerves, I crossed the road and entered the bar with him. Elena wasn't around and I was feeling rather rebellious since she'd poured out my stash of liquor. One or two drinks couldn't exactly hurt.
The bar's decor was dark. The walls clad in a dark wooden panel, and the bar itself following the same theme with its black counter. The only source of light in the room, besides from the windows – but they were too dirty to let in that much sunlight anyway – came from the spotlights showing off the liquor lined up on the wall behind the the bar.
The crowd was pretty slim, and the bar seemed to only have one person tending to it; a tall woman with massive black hair and cocoa-colored skin. Maybe that was Bree? She certainly seemed to be the kind of person who would name their bar after themselves, given the confident way in which she moved. Also, the bar wasn't old enough to have been passed down generations to her, it may be dark and old-looking, but the pictures around the walls could only be traced as far back as to 1994, I noted.
However, I didn't have more time to dwell on my theories for much longer, as the woman, the presumable Bree, caught sight of Damon.
"No. No, it can't be! Damon?" She took a leap up onto the bar counter and swung herself around before landing on the other side with amazing graze, especially considering her height. "My honeypie." She placed both hands on either side of Damon's face, and I could only watch them in shock, my mouth hanging open, as they tried to eat each others faces.
Well, that sure was one way of greeting someone. Although, personally, I prefered a handshake over a full on make out session, like the one happening before me.
"So, how did he rope you in?" Bree asked as she poured up a shot for me.
After she and Damon had ended their face-eating, Bree had announced Damon as the man who broke her heart and crushed her soul for the entire bar to hear, before toasting to this. She was a bit of a wildcard, or just straight up crazy. I hadn't decided yet.
But this could be fun.
"I prefer to think it was I who roped him in," I answered with a smirk and glanced over at Damon. He chuckled and emptied his glass.
"Found yourself a keeper here, I see," Bree told Damon and flashed me a smile. "Still, I wouldn't hesitate from breaking his heart," she whispered to me with a wink, turning to tend to another customer. Even with her laid-back, easy attitude something felt off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. As I observed Bree's movement, I tried scouting for clues that would confirm my suspicious feeling, but without result.
"How did you two meet?" I instead asked Damon, honestly a little curious.
"College."
"You're educated? Herregud! Who would have thought."
"Don't mock me," Damon replied with a once-over, and I smiled teasingly. "I was more of a visitor than an enrolled student."
"So, you basically just 'visited' the campus then?" I checked with raised brows, not hiding my judgement.
"Pretty much." Damon nodded and swung his head back to empty another shot.
Peering over at Bree, I tried to get the image of Damon 'visiting the campus' out of my head. Euw. I got why he 'destroyed Bree's life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness' as she so poetically put it. She probably wasn't the only one he 'visited' either.
The thick-lipped woman drifted back to our end of the bar. "What did I miss?"
"How you two, apparently, met at college," I quickly filled her in as I kept ogling Damon.
"Oh, yes! It was about twenty years ago, when I was a sweet, young freshman, I met this beautiful man, and I fell in love. And then he told me about his little secret, made me love him more. Because, you see, I had a little secret of my own that I was dying to share with somebody." I raised my brows.
"She's a witch," Damon leaned over to whisper by my ear, his breath tickling my neck.
"Changed my world, you know," Bree flirted.
"I rocked your world," Damon replied with a smirk.
"He is good in the sack, isn't he?" She asked me, and I tried keeping a straight face. "But mostly he's just a Walk-Away Joe," Bree continued, turned to Damon. She swigged down another shot, and as her face returned to face him it was suddenly utterly cold. "So, what is it that you want?" The fun and games were apparently over.
Ignoring Bree's question, Damon pulled out my phone from the pocket of his black leather jacket. "It won't stop buzzing," he told me with a meaning look. "You should probably get it."
When something fun and interesting finally happened, of course he would want to be rid of me. Truth be told, I had gotten a little curious to why he'd driven all the way out here, and now when we were getting somewhat closer to the answer I was faced with this.
"Nah, I'm good here," I stated, resting my chin in the palm of my hand, looking between them with a grin.
"Parker." Damon nudged the phone closer to me. "Please." Despite the plea, there was a sharpness to his look, and I noted Bree surveying us closely from beyond the bar. Uh, fine! I knew when to pick my battles, and fighting him on this felt pretty useless.
Sighing, I snatched my mobile from of his grip to exit the bar.
"Say hi to Elena for me," he called after me, the old smirk undoubtedly back in place on his face already. I ignored it with a shake of my head, instead preparing myself for the oncoming apocalypse.
Once outside, I took a deep breath, pinning my eyes shut as I answered the call, hoping that this action would somehow shield me from the storm of words that was undoubtedly about to come crashing into my ear.
"Hello?" I opened with, with as much sweetness as I had within me. It didn't help.
"WHAT THE HELL, PARKS?" And there it was.
After the following ten minutes of being yelled at nonstop, I simply threw my phone onto the ground and stomped on it.
Damon Elena!
She scolded me for crashing a car and being sort of kidnapped by her boyfriend's crazy brother! Where was the frickin logic in that? I only crashed because I drove to help her. Heck! That technically made it her fault! But did I get a chance to say any of this? Oh no! Because the bloody woman wouldn't shut up for five seconds to allow me to open my mouth! UGH! I didn't even feel the slightest sorry about the fact that Stefan had been lying to Elena about how Katherine looked exactly like her. She had it coming!
I really wanted to punch something, but the only thing close enough was Damon's car, and I didn't exactly feel like getting my neck snapped.
"You okay?" I swung around to face the owner of the voice, muttering some nasty words about Elena under my breath. However, Damon caught each and every one of them thanks to his vampire hearing. He only smiled joylessly at me. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."
"Preaching to the choir," I scoffed. "That bitch…" A reflection of light from the bar's windows caught my attention, and I glimpsed Bree bent over by a mixer, almost secretively talking into what could only be a phone. Weird.
Suddenly, I became aware of Damon still watching me. Oddly carefully.
"What?" I snapped at him. My anger was boiling up again.
"You look like you could use something to eat," he stated. "Come on." He inclined his head towards the bar, and without much of another choice I followed him inside.
Soon enough, two burgers with a sad excuse for a salad had been placed in front of us. It was first then I realized that I was starving. Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten anything since I stole some canapés from a stand at the high school advertising working in the culinary business. Prior to that, my only intake of food had been a mushy old sandwich I ate for breakfast yesterday. No wonder I was famished!
After removing the meat from my burger with a sigh, noticing Damon's frown and simply responding, "Vegetarian," to it, his brows instantly raising in understanding, I devoured every other little scrap of food on my plate. Once I was done, I glanced over at Damon's half-finished salad. He noticed my stare, but continued eating in a normal rate.
"You're a vampire. Do you really need to eat that?" I asked skeptically, my brows furrowed.
"You're just saying that because you want my food," Damon spoke in a knowing voice. "As long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system, my body functions pretty normally." Generously, he pushed over his bowl of french fries towards me. "Which means I can eat whatever I want." I accepted the offer by dragging the bowl a little closer and snatched a fry.
"I've never gotten that. You're dead. Your body shouldn't function at all."
"Thinking of anything specific?"
"Well, not exactly, but…" I sighed. This conversation… "Elena found a picture of Katherine," I informed.
Immediately, Damon froze. "Oh."
"Yeah. I'm sure you can imagine my sister's shock," I said with a faint snort. "But that's not the point. Clearly, Elena is descended from Katherine, but how come do they look exactly alike?" Damon paused his eating to study me.
"Here I thought, with all your pre-existing knowledge about vampires, you'd already know the reason to that, too."
Grumbling, I replied. "Well, I don't." A smirk appeared on his face. "That's why I'm asking, but if you're not willing to talk…" With my hands to the bar desk, I readied myself to stand up and leave the dick of a guy in my dust, but his hand laid on top of mine had me halting.
"Are you really curious to know," Damon began, both of us staring at where his hand rested, neither attempting to remove it, "or are you asking for someone else?"
"Both," I admitted, muttering, after a beat.
"Can't ask my dear old brother?" Damon checked, finally removing his hand to pick up an olive from his plate.
"My sister isn't exactly on speaking terms with Stefan at the moment," I informed tightly. "We'll see how long that lasts…" To this, Damon chuckled faintly. "Either way, care to give me an answer?" I pressed, still weighing my decision of whether to sit back down or not.
"I don't know." Damon shrugged, throwing the olive into his mouth. Huffing, I was more than ready to make my choice and leave.
"Thanks, real helpful," I scoffed, already half turned away.
"I mean it," Damon said, again hauling me back in. With a bit of reluctance, I rotated back to face him.
"What now?" I questioned impatiently. When he didn't reply, only making a pointed look between me and the stool next to him, I sat back down heavily with a sharp exhale.
"I actually don't know," Damon repeated, as I again reached for his fries. "That's more of a question for a witch," he pointed out.
"Well, then." I threw a glance at Bree, further down the bar chatting with some stiff-looking guy. "Good thing we happen to have one of those so close by."
"Someone jealous?" Damon teased, our fingers brushing against each other as we both went for the last of his fries. To my released snort, he grabbed my hand to lightly stroke my knuckle with an equally infuriating smirk. "Oh, don't you worry," he chuckled, and I ripped my hand from his grip. With a victorious smirk, he ate the fry under my firm observing.
"Do you always have to flirt?" I scoffed, squinting at him as he swallowed that very last fry. "Din lilla jävel," I added bitterly. Damon responded to my first comment with a smirk, before furrowing his brows slightly.
"I'm guessing that doesn't mean 'devilishly handsome and charming'."
"Nope," I confirmed with a satisfied grin.
"Here you go," Bree appeared to hand Damon a beer.
"Thank you."
"Ahem," I pointedly and loudly cleared my throat with as Damon took a sip. He leered at me, and I meaningly raised my brows. When he didn't move, I sighed. "Look, buddy, you dragged me out here, remember? Plus, I didn't bring my wallet. The least you can do is buy me a drink."
"Fair enough," Damon admitted with a little sigh, nodding at Bree, who placed a beer in front of me as well.
"Öl," I said and pointed at the beer in an instructive manner.
"What language are you even speaking?" Damon asked, slightly annoyed with my teasing.
"Swedish," I smiled and took a swig from the beer. I then raised my bottle at him. "Skål!" I declared. Damon only stared at me. "It means 'cheers'." We clinked our bottles together to then simultaneously take another swig. "You've lived for, what, 200 years? And never been to Sweden?" I asked in disbelief as I sat the bottle down on the counter with a soft thud.
"170 years, if I'm being picky," Damon corrected and peered over at me. "And no, I've never been to Sweden. It never really crossed my path, so to speak. More importantly, you clearly have. How and why?" I realized how exposed I had just made myself, and here I had just been teasing him with my knowledge. Well, fuck.
"Oh, you know." I shrugged nonchalantly. "I've traveled a lot, popped up a little here and there." The lie formed so easily in my head and just slid its way right off my tongue. However, Damon didn't look too convinced. Instead, he readjusted his place on the bar stool and scrutinized me thoroughly.
"You know, I can hear you heartbeat," Damon informed. I made sure to show no reaction forming on my face, not even as he went on. "I'll admit, you're good at this. But it still jumps slightly when you lie." He tilted his head to the side, awaiting my comeback with the watchful gaze of a predator.
For once, I had nothing. It was a new sensation to come up blank, one I hadn't experienced in years; my mouth suddenly feeling dry and my stomach rumbling – a blame for the mushy salad to take. Usually, I was scary good at this, at playing games and pretending. So why was my mind completely blank now all of this sudden? The only thing popping up was the truth, and uttering that was unthinkable.
"I did travel to Sweden, among other places," I spoke with carefully chosen words. "But that's not how I picked up the language."
"Then how?" Damon inquired.
Something turned in my stomach, almost – no; it couldn't be! It nearly felt as if I wanted to tell Damon the truth. But that was just preposterous! I barely knew the guy! So what was this urge to spill the beans coming from? Those mad blue eyes that genuinely looked curious? Or the fact that this far along our little journey, we had more in common than I ever would've thought.
Annoying siblings who wouldn't stop bickering; check. An unhealthy love for alcohol and a slight obsession over french fries; check. Plus, now that I thought about it, we were both equally secretive about our lives and agendas. Again, check. But this hadn't stopped Damon from telling the – somewhat angled – truth about Katherine at the Founder's party. So, really, with all of this in mind, it wasn't so strange that I felt a temptation to pour out this particular life story of mine.
Thankfully, I was saved by Bree from making any rash decision, since she placed some generous customers right next to us, Before I knew it, the sky outside had darkened and my stomach was filled with shots. Yet they still kept on coming.
"Skål!" I exclaimed, and everyone around tried to mimic me, but their crappy pronunciation only had me turning grumpy. "Oh, screw it," I muttered.
"Cheers!" Damon filled in for me. Pretty kindly – if I do say so myself – I offered him a somewhat grateful smile, receiving a flirtatious wink in return. Quickly, I swigged down another shot, and couldn't help but laugh when Damon spilled some of his.
"Ha! I'm beating you!" I rejoiced and jokingly elbowed him. "Do you need a towel to clean that up?" I continued as the small – but drunk off their asses – crowd around us ordered another round.
"Sorry I can't unhinge my jaw like a snake to consume alcohol." Damon wiped his mouth clean using the back of his hand. "Besides, one of us needs to stay sober."
"Oh, we're way past that," I laughed.
"I can still carry you home. Again," Damon teased, and this time I elbowed him in the ribs a little harder. He just smirked as a new round of shots were being poured up.
The act had something buzzing in my body, whizzing in my blood, and instantly I decided that I needed a break from that smirk; the alcohol mixed with the easy atmosphere was making it look a little too charming and hard to resist.
A drunk, round girl next to me with brightly orange hair and arms covered with dark tattoos commented my high tolerance, and I smilingly turned to her, humbly waving off her statement. In a matter of minutes, I had managed to charm her enough to make her accept my invitation to play a game of pool, and thus leaving Damon and his dangerously charming smirk behind us.
After a few games, and some more shots, my hits at the ball had it flying away across the table a little too crookedly, even causing one to bounce and roll off to some dark corner once. When it was again my turn to aim, simply by stepping up to the side of the table with my staff in hand I knew my shot would be way off once more, I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned to face the smirk which I had escaped what felt like hours ago.
"She's persistent." Damon held up his phone, and instantly I recognized Elena's number on the display. Actually, believe it or not, I had managed to forget all about my annoying sister for these last couple of hours. It had been real nice. What a shame good things must come to an end.
As I took the mobile from his hand, I leaned in close to whisper, "You just saved me from losing," before withdrawing to sway past him. Caught up in getting through the room without tripping as I was, I still didn't miss Damon's chuckle, nor his gaze following my back. About the time I reached the door did I fianlly feel myself be freed from its intensity.
"Yello!" I called into the phone, whilst struggling to find my jacket in the mess of outdoor clothing by the front door.
"PARKER!" Cringing, I held the phone a few inches away from my ear as I continued to dig for my brown leather among all the other seemingly similar coats. "I've been worried sick!"
"We talked, like, two hours ago. What's your problem?" I was practically devoured by all the jackets in my search for the one belonging to me. In the corner of my eye, I spotted Damon smiling at my effort as he sipped on what looked a whole lot like bourbon.
"Are you drunk?" Elena exclaimed as I finally found my jacket and held it up in triumph, but Damon had by then turned around and was chatting with Bree. Shrugging, I stumbled towards the door whilst trying to both put on my jacket and speaking into the phone at the same time.
"Perhaps slightly, yes. But what did you expect? You made me talk to Damon, sis. I needed the alcohol." I slurred a little, even I could tell that.
"You're just making up excuses!" Elena raised her voice a bit again, but seemed to instantly come to her senses. "But it's okay, Stefan and I talked…"
"You two made up and now you have all the answers you need about everything, don't you? What a shocking surprise!" I mocked, stumbling to have the phone fly out of my hand and land somewhere in the surrounding darkness of the street. Well, at least that meant I was spared of having to listen to Elena's response.
It was pitch black, but I still fumbled around for the mobile and tried to listen for a faint sound of Elena's lecturing voice. Instead, I heard a shoe sole twitching against the asphalt behind me. Halting instantly, I peeled my ears for the sound again. From behind, I felt two arms grab me by my waist, attempting to drag me backwards with a hand covering my mouth.
But my attacker was in for a surprise.
Rather than snatching me away without a problem, I put a stick in the plan by kicking my feet high up into the air whilst also shooting my head back, having my skull crash into my attacker's nose. I heard it crack pleasantly.
Instantly, my attacker released me, and quickly I moved to stably stand on my feet before wrapping my arm around their neck, moving my leg out of the way to turn and swing them into the ground with all my force and their weight combined. The attacker fell onto the asphalt with a loud thud – the dim light from a nearby streetlamp giving me enough of a good view to see that it was a guy; no surprise there – and, usually, that would have been it. Given he was a fairly heavy dude, a fall like that should've been hard enough to knock him out cold.
But, instead, a whooshing sound was heard, and I was swept away from the dark alley.
Once the world stopped spinning, I was basically thrown onto the ground, my forehead hitting the hard surface beneath me before I managed to roll and avoid the collision; that would certainly leave a mark. Quickly, whilst I was still a bit dazed, the man moved to grab my hands before bending an oblong piece of iron to wrap around my wrists and the base structure of some electric station he'd dropped me next to.
"Jeez, thanks dude," I huffed, jerking at my bonds with a glare at my attacker.
"It's so you don't get hurt. He is my target," the man spoke through clenched teeth.
"Well, it's a little late for that," I stated, spitting out some blood onto the paved ground.
"Anymore hurt," he corrected himself with. Then, the guy's head snapped to the side, as if listening to a sound only his heightened hearing could catch, and he disappeared in a flash.
"Jävla idiot!" I spat after him, pulling at my bonds once more. Really? Did it have to be iron?
Instantly, my struggling was halted when I heard a set of light footsteps approach. Shortly after, I spotted Damon walking around the corner of a nearby building and towards me.
"NO! Back away!" I yelled, which, thinking about it, probably wasn't the most clever thing to do, since the vampire from before flashed out with a baseball bat in his hands to knock Damon over. But hey! I was drunk and had just been ambushed. Give me a break!
With a scream of pain, Damon fell to the ground as the vampire restlessly continued to repeatedly pound the bat at every available body part he could get to, searching for weak spots to hit even harder. Apparently, I wasn't the only one with anger issues around here.
"Knock it off!" I belted from my chained place, pulling at the restraints again. One option did remain for me to free myself – one I'd learnt long ago but still never really felt like using. The option of breaking my thumbs to be able to bend my hands to slip out and escape my bonds.
Considering it for a second, a glance thrown Damon's way to see him still being beaten, I swore and twisted my hands to crack my thumbs out of place, biting down on a groan of pain, before I slid my hands out of the iron bonds that held them.
By the time I'd silently stood up, the vampire had stopped his beating to instead pour gasoline all over Damon, who laid bloody and beaten on the ground, barely moving. Grabbing a piece of wooden debris laying around – holding it as best I could with two broken thumbs aching – I quietly moved towards the vampires, hoping that the guy was too caught up with killing Damon to notice me.
Sadly, I wasn't so lucky.
Before I could get too close he turned around and flashed his fangs at me, and reluctantly I stopped.
"Who are you?" Damon grunted at the vamp.
"That's perfect." He shook his head bitterly. "You have no idea!"
"Oh! What did you do now, Damon?" I groaned, rolling my eyes to spot the male twitch at my words.
"He killed my girlfriend," the guy informed me over his shoulder, instantly refocusing all of his furious attention on Damon. "What did she do to you, huh?" He recklessly poured more gasoline over Damon. "WHAT DID SHE DO TO YOU?"
"Isn't that water under the bridge by now?" I tried, partly distracting and hoping to buy some more time, whilst honestly fishing for more clues to why this guy was so keen on killing Damon.
"My girlfriend went to visit Stefan, and Damon killed her. Got it?" he snapped at me, making it clear that his wound was very fresh.
"Lexi?" I glanced at Damon, who momentarily tried to get up, only to receive a bat shoved into his face. My brain was working on high speed. "I met her!" I blurted out, catching the guys attention again. "She was cool, even amazing. I understand why you'd wanna avenge her death. But this." I pointed at Damon. "This isn't the way to do it." The vampire followed my gesture, before letting his gaze return to my face. He was hesitating. Good. "He might be a total dick." I tilted my head to the side and pinned my eyes shut. "No, wait, let me rephrase that. He is a total dick. But if you kill him, then you're no better." I looked at the vampire pleadingly. "Be better. For her." Cheesy as fuck and taken straight out of my sister's book, yes, but it worked.
Casting the petrol can aside, the vampire moved to pick Damon up from the ground. With burning hatred in his eyes – detectable from all the way over here – he stared at him with fury for a moment, before throwing Damon into a brick wall with a grunt. The vampire's eyes flashed over his shoulder at me, and I only nodded, watching him disappear using his vamp-speed.
As soon as he was gone, I let out a sigh of relief and felt my whole body relaxing as I doubled over. Phew! Close one! Then, just as quickly, I straightened myself up again to make my way over to the grunting Damon.
"You're welcome!" I stated, holding out my hand for him.
Damon only stared at it, then allowed his gaze to wander up to my face and focus on me in an oddly manner, eyes open and gaping with some emotion I couldn't quite put my finger on. But as quickly as this had appeared, it was gone in a flash, and finally he grabbed my hand and allowed me to pull him to his feet. When the pain flashed from where he inevitably squeezed my thumb, I released a sharp grunt.
"I figured the chatty plan would work better than tackling him to the ground," I brushed my groan off with.
"I'm guessing you tried that already." Damon managed to grunt and smirk at the same time, but there was still a hint of that oddness in his blue eyes as he watched me. I decided to ignore it.
"Well, he did jump me in a dark alley. Can you blame me?" I smiled, but a concerned wrinkle had formed between my brows. "You look like shit," I stated.
"Thank you." Damon stretched out and eyed me up and down. "And you look awfully good for someone who was just kidnapped."
"Briefly kidnapped," I corrected him. "And I didn't escape without some injuries of my own." I held up my dislocated thumbs for him to see. Now it was his turn to get a slightly concerned wrinkle. Without hesitating, he bit into his wrist and held it out for me. I frowned at the oddly kind gesture, but said, "Is it really safe to mix blood and alcohol?"
"Do you care?" Damon half-laughed, half-groaned. Point taken, but the whole feeding-thing of vampirism – both being fed on and feeding off of one – just bugged me.
Trying to shrug it off, since I didn't like for Damon to know about this thorn in my side, I grabbed his wrist and pressed it to my lips. Instantly, the metallic blood taste entered my mouth and slid its way down through my throat. To my great surprise and relief, I didn't gag from having the thick substance fill my taste buds, but nonetheless I soon withdrew and took a step back, wiping my mouth clean from his blood by using the back of my hand.
The blood there on my skin – his blood – almost seemed to stare tauntingly back at me. Quickly, I shook it off and lowered my hand from my view. Instead, I came to face Damon carefully surveying my movements and face. That odd look of his was really starting to bug me.
"What?" I asked, snapping.
After another moment of staring, he replied, "You okay?"
"Super," I huffed out quickly, brushing my hand against my jeans. As soon as the stain of red settled on the fabric, my mind instantly went for ways to remove it. Did I have salt at home? Perfect for pesky blood stains; believe me, I knew. "Could we swing by a supermarket on the way back?" I said without raising my gaze from my pants. "I need to buy some salt."
When I finally did look up, Damon had merely raised his brows at my random comment.
"I need to take care of something first," he informed, suddenly gravely. "Then we can go."
When Damon emerged from the bar, a few minutes after having entering it with a determined look just as grave as before on his face, I had taken a quite comfortable seat on the hood of his car. He didn't exactly look pleased about it, but he had no time to protest before I opened my mouth.
"Ding, dong! The witch is dead!" I stated easily, with a tilt of my head to the side. Damon stopped in the middle of his step, gaping at me. Then he continued moving closer, and I noticed the tension set in his jaw.
"She ratted me out, what was I supposed to do?" Damon huffed.
"I'm not complaining, just stating the facts," I said with a raise of my hands, claiming my innocence. By this comment, Damon seemed honestly baffled, but instead of acting it out, he rolled his eyes at me, grabbed my arm and pulled me down from his car.
"Careful. Not a chair," he tsked, waving his finger disapprovingly in my face. I pushed it away with a smile, sweeping past him to get into the car.
Really, I was too satisfied with my dodgy feeling about Bree earlier having been correct, that I didn't even really care if Damon had ripped her heart out or not. Besides, it wasn't exactly like I hadn't done worse.