Phantom

8

Damon was strapped to a kitchen-chair when Bonnie entered clutching the leather-bound volume, but his eyes followed her just as surly as if he could move. It was just Stefan's word to say that he could not escape from the rope that bound him, and right now his word didn't feel like enough. She felt Damon leer at her as she almost ran past him to a cupboard at the back of the room, the power of his gaze reaching her even now. It felt as though his probing gaze were undressing her, and a cold wind seemed to blow into her back. She had to fight the urge to look back at him, whatever she did.

"These ropes can't hold me forever, Bonnie, and when I get out..." he purred, "... you and I are going to have a talk." The way he said this left no questions as to what he really meant. There would be no talking and she knew it, which only served to to make her squirm. Her body still ached from his rough treatment from before, aching in ways that she hadn't thought it could, and the insinuation that the pain would come again made her unable to relax her widened eyes. He couldn't mean to be telling her that she hadn't been tortured enough, that it wasn't over, could he?

"You will never touch her again," Stefan growled, the vibrations of his voice enough that the glasses on the table rattled. He didn't know what he would do if his brother ever did something like this again to a human who couldn't defend herself. There were no words to describe how appalled he was, how guilty he felt. If he hadn't come back to this town out of misguided hope that he could begin again, none of this would have ever happened. Even worse was his hopelessness; how could he fix this without killing his brother? He did not want Damon to die, he just wanted him to learn that was more to life than killing and consuming.

Damon's eyes turned dark, and the in the next moment he had the ropes in tattered pieces on the floor. He smiled, "Oh, really? Is that so, brother?" Damon said obligingly, gesturing in mock realisation, "Do you really think you could stop me if I were to..." he came up from behind Bonnie as she extracted another ingredient from the cupboard, putting both his hands on her waist, "touch her here, or here," he kissed her neck tenderly, "or here?" now his hands were exploring beneath her top recklessly, managing to rip her bra as easily a human would do paper. He felt all around her chest and moaned low in her ear. She might pretend that this was not affecting her at all, but he could smell her arousal as permeated the air.

Stefan frowned as he watched them together, feeling as if he were indecent somehow by not looking away.

Damn, but his touch ignited something within her that was better left unexplained. Maybe she liked her love rough, or maybe the terror was making her heart pound like this in her chest, she didn't know. Whatever the reason, though, she felt herself turning liquid in his arms as he continued to molest her unwaveringly. She moaned and sagged against him, her footing uncertain after feeling his electric fingers against her skin. "You see, brother," he said matter-of-factly, "I can do whatever I like," a pointed look in Bonnie's direction, "to whomever I choose."

The book almost fell from her fingers, but she caught it quickly before it could move more than an inch. This wasn't the Damon she had known, had loved, and whatever consequences came with the casting of this spell would have a better result, there was no way things could get worse. Her fingers were white against the warn leather of the front as she clasped it in her hands with all the strength she possessed; if there were ever a reason to be strong it was sitting before her with a viscous grin on it's face. She opened the book to the page book-marked with a florescent pink post-it note.

"Bonnie?" Stefan asked, unsure as to why she was suddenly so still, her chest hardly moving with her breath. Her eyes were wide but oddly focused, buy on what he did not know,

"What happened, why do I find myself strapped to this chair like a torture victim?" He asked with annoyance, confusion only showing in his eyes, but he did not remove himself from the chair for a moments, even after he had so quickly presumed was meant for darker purposes. His gaze flicked briefly between Stefan and Meredith, but his attention was for Bonnie, his nose wrinkling with the scent of her fear. Something had happened, he knew this, and he must have done something to warrant being held here like a prisoner. The fear radiating of Bonnie was like some sort of sick torture method, a method that had been proven to give results time and time again. Where in this mess had he grown so soft and sentimental?

Damon stood with a slightly less graceful movement than before, but there was no doubting that he was still the most lethal thing any of them had ever come across. He did not spare a glance at his brother before going to stand beside Bonnie, his eyes like liquid darkness as he stared into her's. He wanted to make her love him like he loved her, and he wrapped her up in his arms. Her lips were trembling and he took it to be because of fear – and it was fear that he enjoyed in his prey.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, Damon," Stefan warned after a glance from Bonnie that indicated that this might not be over yet.

Bonnie's small hand spread wide on his chest and there was no heartbeat she could feel beneath the layers of muscle. She spoke the final part of the spell out loud and watched the same bright light as from before flow from her finger tips and around his chest like vines wrapping tightly around a tree. She could practically hear the hushed silence of the room, feel it almost in the air, and she prayed that when she at last had the strength to open her eyes she would see Damon looking back at her. "Damon?" she asked him timidly, her still tingling hand moving to rest on his cheek.