Hello guys and girls, it's been a while. And wow! I blinked and, the next time I looked at this, it had surpassed 200 reviews. When did this happen? More importantly, how? I'm flummoxed by this. But, more than that, I'm flattered! You people are amazing!

So, I have some points to address: some of you liked to point the fact that I made Bella and the doppengängers similar in appearance. Well, that's exactly that. They are similars! Isabella is not some kind of Petrova doppelgänger or anything like that. I'm sure that whileI have written their similarities, I also pointed their differences. I played on the fact that, since Mystic Falls is a small town, it would be easy to assume that some Gilbert had married into the Salvatore family or vice-versa. Since no one suspected that Elena was not Jeremy's sister, then that means that she looked enough like either Miranda or Grayson (or both, really) that having a possible distant relative who looks like her was not that far-fetched. That and the 'look-alike' phenomenom. In fact, I based my Isabella on Victoria Justice, who resembles Nina Dobrev greatly.

Another thing: update dates. I will never promise fast updates because that's a promise I can't keep. I have a life and, in this life, there is something called college that, basically, sucks out my soul. And with exams just around the corner...

Also, some of you might have realized that some of the previous chapters have been edited. It's nothing much really; just some errors I managed to find, some phrases altered or added to a scene. Nothing that will change the story as a whole. It's been slow going due to the previously mentioned issue.

Well, that's all I can remember for now. Enjoy the chapter.

This chapter is dedicated to the Guest that kept on waiting for this. You know who you are. Thank you for your support.

Edited: 01/04/18

Chapter 7

Hours passed. Damon was alone at the Boarding House (Ric had offered to take Blondie home while Stefan had decided to stay with a crying Elena at her house). He made his way to one of the five recently used bedrooms; the one with faint traces of Isabella's scent. Ironically, it was right beside his own, but he'd never paid it much attention before other than figuring it belonged to a woman.

He ignored the furniture, seeing as it was in the same style as the rest of the house, and decided to focus on the brunette's personal effects. Like photos. There were many of those around. The first one he saw showed a much younger Isabella who was wrapped in the arms of a blue-eyed, blonde version of the woman he knew. He grabbed it and removed it from the frame. Turning the picture around, he found 'Renée and Bella – 1999' written on the back. Curiosity getting the best of him, he perused the rest. There were more shots of Isabella and her mother together, just as many as there were of her and a man who was, often enough, dressed as Chief of Police (Charlie, the legends said). And dammit if Damon wasn't fascinated by the fact that Isabella would look like a carbon copy of her mother if she didn't have her father's coloring! It assuaged a little of the suspicion he had had that she could be somehow related the Petrov family, seeing as neither parent shared any traits with Isobel (which he would take as reference instead of either Elena or Katherine). Though he didn't discard the possibility of distant relations.

Other pictures showed her alongside her friends: a tall brunette that appeared in as many photos as the elder Swans; a group of natives who Damon was sure had to be on steroids – either that or there was something in the water because damn it, but those kids were huge! Even the only girl present (other than Isabella) was fit as fuck!

But it was the two people that he could recognize that startled him the most.

Since the day Isabella had appeared in town, Damon had been asking people about her. More often than not, he would hear how close the Swan and her friend were to Zach. Thick as thieves, they would say. But it was one thing to know about their closeness through hearsay... It was an entirely different matter altogether, though, to have the definitive proof shoved in your face! He stared hard at the photo he had taken from over one of the dressers, where the captured image of forever grinning adults stared back at him. It had been taken during a somewhat childish moment, but there was no denying the joy that emanated from the three of them.

Damon felt an uncomfortable lurch in the pit of his stomach, so he turned his attention to the one photo that contained the other individual he knew.

It had been taken in a cozy, if rather small to his standards, living room. While it was clear that whoever had shot this had intended to catch them unawares – as shown by the image of an Isabella deeply engrossed in her book – they had, obviously, only accomplished half of their mission, if Elijah's amused smile was any indication. But what threw him for a loop, besides the Original's relaxed stance as he too read a book, were the casual clothes he used. It had taken Damon forever before he was able to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew of the elder vampire, especially as he was sure the Original had been born wearing a suit (and no, he didn't care how illogical that thought was). It told a lot and still not enough.

Next, he perused the books: Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, The Phantom of the Opera, Pride and Prejudice, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings...

Biting back the frustrated growl that had started to form in the back of his throat, Damon left the room, annoyed at not having found anything of relevance. Sure, there was the one photo, but he'd already known that Isabella trusted the elder vampire and that Elijah was quite fond of her. So, nothing new.

:::

Damon spent the next few hours mulling over the words said the night before, slouched on a comfortable armchair in the living room, sipping bourbon and staring at the lighted fire crackling merrily in the fireplace as if it had the answers he sought. On any other day, he wouldn't have lost hours of precious sleep pondering on some inane mystery or another, but Isabella had been intriguing him for a while now, so he couldn't help himself. Besides, her words had hit a little too close to home. So close, in fact, that he couldn't be anything less than uncomfortable and suspicious.

But even as those emotions filled him – she knows too much, his mind whispered – doubt started to make its way inside his mind. She had been too open, too honest while speaking of things that no one outside their little gang should be privy to.

Damon blinked as his mind tried to make sense of it all.

"I've seen it before and I want no part in it."

He suddenly sat up straight as the phrase repeated inside his head. Could it be? He replayed the whole conversation, focusing on the information shared. The bite on her wrist, a wannabe Stefan, a vain blonde, a seeress, a Confederate soldier...

It was as if a lamp had lit inside his head and holy shit!

Of all the vampires Bambi could have involved herself with, it had to be the Cullens, huh? Spot on descriptions aside, it made sense. They were the only coven of daywalkers out there that actively sought to live amongst the humans.

There was no vampire worth their bloodsucking existence who didn't know about the other kind. Really, they were kind of hard to miss. Anyway, even among the daywalkers the Cullens were infamous, mainly because of their diet (and Damon wanted to kick himself for not figuring it out as soon as Isabella had mentioned animal blood). They – and the Denalis – were somewhat viewed as freaks due to their refusal to drink human blood. For those like Damon, who was quite capable of blending with the humans and had kept up with all the changes, their choice was even more puzzling. The coven leader was a doctor, for Christ's sake! How difficult would it be for him to come up with an excuse for needing blood bags? His easy access was something most vampires out there would kill for, as robbing blood banks without raising any flags was not that easy a thing. So, to have the opportunity and not use it? Unthinkable!

Another thing that was widely considered a matter of concern was the size of their coven. With seven members, they were the second biggest coven out there, losing only to the Volturi. And everyone and their grandmother knew that the only reason the 'royal family' had that many vampires around was because one of their own was capable of manipulating the ties one had with another. One of their leaders – Aro, if Damon remembered correctly – liked to collect gifted vampires. There was even a rumor that it was the only reason Marcus was still around.

The Cullens, on the other hand, had ties based on loyalty. Carlisle had sired all but Major Whitlock and his wife, and even those two had remained after fifty years. It was mind-boggling, considering their species.

Or maybe it was the animal blood; the Denali Coven had five members, after all.

That was one mystery solved; there were still many more to go.

Also, by the way she had spoken, Isabella had clearly dated the wannabe Stefan – Ed something or another, his mind supplied – and their relationship didn't end on a good note if she was referring to him as a mistake. Which left him puzzled. It was Stefan's counterpart she was talking about, after all. And every-fucking-body loved Stefan. Just. Like. That. It was simple. It was one of the Universe's absolutes: no matter how knee-deep in shit Stefan was, he would still be the favorite Salvatore out there. It was something Damon had accepted a long time ago. It was also the reason why he had stopped trying to be the nice guy. No reason in trying to do something when no one would recognize his efforts.

"He has an overprotective streak so wide that it sometimes suffocates you," her voice echoed in his head. He hummed in thought. Maybe that was it; she had felt smothered in her relationship. And, considering how vampires were such conniving little bastards, Isabella had probably been manipulated and/or forced into situations she wanted no part in.

It was a vampire's nature to be that selfish. Independent of which kind. Because of their heightened emotions, any spark of interest had the potential to become an obsession. It would only be a matter of time until the human was caught in their web. They were stronger, faster, and any challenge just made the hunt all the more interesting. And when the prey was caught, manipulating them was even easier; Damon's kind had compulsion while the daywalkers had their allure. Their looks, smell—everything really, was designed to attract their prey. Not that the humans could run away.

It made Damon wonder how Isabella had escaped. It went beyond a human's capability to escape the allure, and vampires didn't just let things go. He would know.

But, unfortunately, he had no more clues that would help him solve this puzzle.

(He wondered in a far corner of his mind if they had really let her go or if they were waiting for an opportune moment to come back into her life.)

Heaving a sigh, he decided to focus on another troubling, not to mention frustrating, thought: Katherine. Who was not in the tomb anymore. Because that would be too easy. No, the goddamned bitch had concocted a plan with John Gilbert of all people (it was a good plan, he would admit. It would have taken Elijah out of the picture if only they had known that the dagger had to remain in the Original's heart!), and was, now, out and about, making their lives miserable, instead of languishing inside that prison as she should have from the very beginning. Because, apparently, the compulsion only worked if the vampire was alive – or as alive as a magically animated corpse could be – and kicking.

Hum… Speaking of John, he should just finish the job Katherine started and off the blond menace once and for all. Now that was a pleasant thought.

Anyway, there was also the fact that the older doppelgänger was now out for Isabella's blood to consider. Damon doubted that anyone had ever caught Katherine Pierce as off guard as Isabella had done. Honestly, it had been a beautiful thing to see, and Damon just about fell in love with the spirited Swan. Unfortunately, her shining moment of glory had put her on the Bulgarian's radar. A shitty place, Damon knew, for anyone to be.

Damon chanced a look at the clock and saw it had been a few hours since the Grill had opened (really, just how long had he spent thinking about the two brunettes?). He made his way to his bedroom to grab a jacket and was out the front door before five seconds had passed. Sure, he could get drunk in the comfort of his house, but then there wouldn't be the possibility of him finding a snack while waiting for Ric to appear, would there? And the teacher/wannabe hunter would appear. Not only because the two of them could always be found together drinking, but because Elijah was still around, no doubt furious with the both of them for their deception. And the Original was anything but stupid, he would know Ric was the only human at their little party who would not only know what was happening but have the galls to stab the older vampire in the back.

Yeah, they would be getting drunk together again today. Misery loved company, after all.

:::

Damon was on his way to getting smashed, observing as one of the many high schoolers he wouldn't mind sinking his teeth in made goo-goo eyes at him, when his phone started to ring. He fished it out of his pocket and checked the caller. Stefan. He sighed, debating if it would be worth the lecture he would receive later if he were to ignore it. Nah. That would mean dealing with his baby brother for longer than he had either the inclination or the patience to. Better to get it over.

He answered the call and opened his mouth, ready to let out a sarcastic remark, only to be cut by Stefan.

"We have a problem."

He sighed, something he was doing a lot lately. Really, couldn't they have one day – just one! – without shit happening? "What is it this time, Stefan?" He asked tiredly. The day had barely started and he was ready to call it quits.

"I can't enter the Boarding House."

Damon raised an eyebrow at that. What did Stefan mean? "What, did you forget your keys or something?" Even though he meant it sarcastically, it still sounded ridiculous to his ears. They rarely, if ever, locked their house. Honestly, who would break into a vampire's house? (He childishly stomped on the voice in his head that reminded him about the werewolves, Rose and Katherine all making themselves comfortable in his living room, always taking him by surprise.)

"No, Damon," he could swear there was something bordering on hysterical in his brother's voice. "I haven't been invited."

Damon jolted. What? Surely, he had heard it wrong. "What?" Even as he asked this, he was already making his way out of the Grill, mind running a mile an hour, all thoughts of alcohol and feeding leaving him. How could this have happened? They had left the property on Zach's name to avoid suspicion. There was no need to have it in either of the brothers' names when they kept telling the town Zach was alive. So, who—?

He stopped short a few feet away from his car, one name jumping to the forefront of his mind. Was this a way to get back at them for what had happened yesterday? He gritted his teeth. None of them had even cogitated the possibility of her retaliating. Oh, they were sure there would be some sort of retaliation, though not from her. They had been prepared for – had expected – Elijah to be the one coming after them. And they had never cogitated the possibility of the Boarding House being taken from them.

The resigned sigh that his brother let out at his end just confirmed his suspicion.

"Isabella."

:::

Damon made his way back in record time. By the time he saw Stefan standing with Elena on the porch, talking with a bored-looking Isabella, he was seething. Before the sound of the door of his car slamming shut could be heard, he was already lunging at the brunette standing by the door, fangs bared in a threatening snarl. Only to be stopped by an invisible barrier, mere inches away from her. Isabella didn't even have the decency to recoil from his sudden appearance, nor did she let any emotion show on her face. It was just like the day before, when he had slammed her against a wall; she showed no weakness. Grudgingly, he could feel his respect for her rising, and he stomped on it ruthlessly.

"What, exactly, are you playing at?" He spat. She only raised an eyebrow at his tone, which left him even more infuriated. "What happened to getting the first flight out of the state?"

She leaned against the threshold and crossed her arms, expression never changing. "I decided that, while it would benefit me greatly to be as far away from you as I could possibly be, it wouldn't really solve anything. It would also leave you scot-free, which is a big no-no," she shrugged.

He clenched his fist, trying to gain some measure of control over his anger. He wouldn't let her draw any more responses out of him. But oh, if only she were a few inches closer… Then there would be enough of her out of the barrier for him to grab and pull her out. As it was, she was still safe inside, even if barely. As such, she was out of his reach.

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Her eyes snapped to Elena and she studied the doppelgänger.

"Did you really think there would be no consequences for what happened yesterday? Or the day before?"

Damon heard Elena spluttering somewhere behind him. "Of course, I did!" And he wanted to blink at that, because none of them usually thought about the consequences. Not until they came back to bite them in the ass. And even then, he and Stefan always did their best so Elena only knew about the aftermaths, as a way to protect her.

Also, somehow, whenever the shit hit the fan, the blame always fell on him.

"I just hadn't expected you to take away their house as a twisted sort of revenge?" Elena seemed to have resorted on being her self-righteous self, if the disapproval he heard on her voice was anything to go by.

If it was revenge, then Isabella's plan was brilliant; taking their 'headquarters' away from them. It was the kind of thing he only wished he could do (sadly, being dead put a wrench on this kind of planning). He was just pissed it was being used against him.

Isabella hummed, seeming to consider her answer. "You think I'm doing this solely to take vengeance on them?" She seemed amused at Elena's assumption, and Damon did blink at that, anger ever so slowly giving place to confusion. He furrowed his brow. What could she possibly mean by that?

"What do you mean?" Stefan asked quietly. Ah, good old Stefan… keeping his calm while he lost his shit… Knowing that his brother had managed to keep his cool went a long way toward calming Damon down.

"Well, while our little get-together was something I could do without—"

"I distinctly remember you agreeing to it," Damon interrupted her in mid-sentence.

"It was either that or getting kidnapped. And, just between us," she leaned forward and spoke in conspiratorial tone, "kidnappings get really old really fast. Sue me for wanting to do things my way," she leaned back and shrugged. She paused for a moment, then sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Look, it doesn't matter if you think I'm doing this to get back at you. I'll admit to getting a small amount of satisfaction for making you miserable." She paused again at the expressions they were making. "What? No one likes being interrogated, and then slammed against a wall for absolutely no reason."

Damon twitched at the reminder, knowing that this would be blamed on him. "Well, I know people who wouldn't mind me slamming them against any wall." He replied, nonchalantly, fishing for her reaction.

"Damon!"

Amusement entered her eyes as they both ignored Elena's exclamation. Damon could swear that Isabella was fighting a smile by the way her lips twitched. "Thanks, but no thanks. Anyway, the fact remains that Zach left me the house."

Damon froze. Zach did what?

"Zach did what?" Stefan asked. It seemed they were both on the same page on this. She raised an eyebrow and was about to answer when she was interrupted by a smooth, accented voice.

"Looks like you have guests."

Ice ran through his veins even as his mind supplied the name of the vampire he had planned to off a couple days ago coming from inside the house – one he had thought he had succeeded in killing twice already.

Elijah came to a stop by Isabella's shoulder and stood there, staring them down in all his brown-haired, brown-eyed glory.

Damon heard Elena shifting, moving closer to Stefan, and he positioned his body so he stood between the Original and the other two. He knew that, if push came to shoves, he would never be able to beat the elder vampire. But he would be damned if he didn't, at least, buy Stefan a few seconds to try and get Elena to safety.

He heard a snort and chanced a look at the brunette by the threshold before returning his gaze to the bigger threat; she was shaking her head disbelievingly. "You talk as if you didn't know they would appear sooner or later."

Elijah just offered her an amused smirk in response.

Damon found himself staring. Seeing as he had gotten a grip on himself, he was able to analyze what was happening in front of him.

It was happening again – the genuine emotion in those brown orbs… How they subtly lit in amusement at the little Swan's remark.

Oh, it wasn't anything overt. But Damon found it hard to ignore how different it was to see it when he was accustomed to the carefully constructed mask of politeness Elijah had presented every time he had interacted with someone. He had never realized how empty Elijah's demeanor had been behind his smooth words, how the Original had never allowed none of his true emotions to shine through for them to see.

Suddenly, the image of two brunettes reading in a cozy living room flashed in his mind, and he blinked, trying to focus on what was happening.

Damon found himself wanting to look at his brother and see if he had caught on to this subtle change.

"Did you find anything of interest?"

"Indeed, I did." And then he lifted the dagger they had used against him.

Elena gasped behind him, and Damon asked himself how things could have gone so completely wrong as he stared at the only effective weapon they had had.

He watched, detachedly, as a pale, feminine hand rose and took hold of the silver blade. "Is this...?"

He ignored it. With the scene in front of him came the knowledge that every new plan they could have hatched to protect Elena had been foiled even before they could even form. Elijah was stronger than any of them, the Jonas were stronger and more knowledgeable than Bonnie, and even Isabella was more cunning and ruthless than any of the humans they kept around. No matter the angle you looked at it, they were utter and completely outmatched.

Unbidden, the thought of kidnapping the brunette – of snapping her neck, even – once she was out of the Boarding House, formed in his mind. He squashed it. They were in deep enough shit as they were. No need to make Elijah even more furious than he certainly was. He only needed Elena alive, after all. The rest of them were expendable.

"Would you at least allow us to grab a few of our things?"

Stefan's question brought Isabella's attention back to them, snapping her out of her meticulous examination. She gingerly gave the dagger back to Elijah and turned to them.

"Sure, I can let Elena grab your things."

Damon suppressed the sardonic smile that wanted to form on his lips. She wouldn't allow them entry. They were being kicked out of their own home. Maybe it was karma for all the previous owners he had terrorized, that he would find a Salvatore who wouldn't back down from him.

Elena took a step forward, and both Isabella and Elijah stepped aside to let her through. She gingerly walked passed them, but neither made a move towards her. He heard it as she made her way first to Stefan's bedroom, then to his own.

Half an hour later, Elena came out of the house carrying two bags and handed one to each of them. Damon sighed, but grabbed his while nodding in thanks. He felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, telling him without words that they should get going. He wanted to shrug it off, to pretend that he wasn't affected by all of this. But he refrained. What good would it do? It would only show dissension in the ranks.

Biting back a growl, he nodded to Stefan, who let his arm fall to his side. The three of them retreated, going to their respective cars, and left.

Defeat had never tasted so bitter.

:::

Stefan made his way inside the office. Sitting behind the desk, reading some document or another, was Levi Sommers, Zach's lawyer. He was a handsome man, with strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes, hidden behind rectangular glasses. His most striking feature, though, was the no nonsense attitude that he wore like a second skin. The man was a professional in every sense of the word, from the meticulously organized office to the pressed suit he wore.

Once he realized Stefan was there, he put the paper down and fixed the vampire with an even stare. "Good morning, Mr. Salvatore. What can I do for you?" He asked, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. His smooth voice was as even as his gaze, giving nothing away. For one moment, Stefan was reminded of Elijah.

"Good morning, Mr. Sommers." He reached the chair in two strides and sat down. Seeing as the man wasn't one to waste time, Stefan went straight to the point. "You see, while I was talking with Isabella, yesterday, the subject suddenly came up, and she mentioned that the house is now in her name." He paused and waited for the man's input, but the blond only nodded in affirmation. "How come?"

Sommers' elbows came to rest over the table, and the man linked his hands together. "I suppose you have heard how close Mr. Salvatore – Zachary – and Ms. Swan were." It wasn't a question. Either way, Stefan nodded. "They – and Ms. Webber, too – were as close as siblings. One day, Zachary came into my office and told me that, if a time came when people thought he was out of town and Ms. Swan came looking for him, affirming to having tried to enter in contact with him for more than one month but not being able to, then I was to consider him to be dead and execute his will.

"Yesterday morning, she came to me and asked if I had been in contact with Zachary. I told her he was out of town due to family business. She proceeded to tell me that she had been trying to talk to him for the last few months, but he wouldn't pick up the phone nor answer the emails she had sent. So, I executed Zachary's will, where he had proclaimed Ms. Swan as his sole heir."

Stefan frowned at this. Even if he ignored the fact that Zach was prepared for their possible return to his life, which could result in his death (Damon had already killed his lover, it was not a stretch of the imagination to suppose he would end up killing Zach too), he couldn't ignore that his nephew had left everything to Isabella. It could affect his and Damon's cover if people were to find out about this. They would ask why Zach hadn't left nothing for his nephews and may even start searching for the answers themselves.

"You disapprove?" Stefan was brought back to reality by the man's voice. He looked up and saw the blond studying him. He didn't let the man's penetrating gaze faze him, though he still tried to act like the teenager he was pretending to be.

"It's just that things had been in the family since the town was founded..." he shrugged.

"I see," Sommers said. "Well, you don't have to worry about that." At Stefan's raised eyebrow, he continued. "Ms. Swan is, indeed, a member of the Salvatore Family. Her great-grandmother bore the name, if I remember correctly."

This… Even though he had known it to be true, it still caught him off-guard. Oh.

There was nothing more he wanted to discuss with the man, so Stefan stood up; Sommers doing the same. "Thank you for your time." They shook hands, and he took his leave.

Stefan decided to walk around town, so he could sort the whirlwind of thoughts inside his head. He thought about Isabella and the confirmation he had received. She was a Salvatore; if not in name, at least in blood (as if he had had any doubt. She did seem to have inherited Damon's snark). She was family. She was someone who knew they were vampires but didn't fear them. Nor did she seem to be disgusted by their nature. Heck, he was sure that if wasn't because they were on opposite sides of the fence right now, Damon would have loved her. They were like two peas in a pod, all sarcastic remarks and sharp wit. And while Stefan wanted to pull his hair out because there were two of them now, it was amusing to see Damon's reaction to her. His brother didn't seem to be able to decide if he wanted to laugh at her antics and join her, or rip her to shreds. Stefan felt vindicated.

And Stefan? Well, he certainly liked her well enough, even if they had only talked that one time. It had been easy for them to connect, her easy acceptance drawing him in. Which was why he was feeling so conflicted at the moment. Because now he wondered what could possibly make her join Elijah.

All of this was making him wonder if being so invested in Elena was stopping him from seeing a bigger picture. He loved the girl, there was no doubt about it. Still… What, exactly, was a doppelgänger? What made them so special, so different from anyone else, that they became the very key to ending such a powerful curse?

There were too many questions and no answers at all.

Does Isabella know the answers? He stopped walking, pondering on why his thoughts kept on returning to her. He sighed and resumed his walk, running a hand through his hair. It was no use thinking about it now.

No, he had other things to worry about. Like where was he going to stay and what they were going to do.

He looked at the sky. It was getting dark. Fortunately, he still had some time to visit Elena (before Jenna kicked him out and he sneaked back through the window).

With that thought in mind, he made his way to the Gilbert house.