*A/N* Sorry I haven't updated guys my computer was having issues. I also wasn't too sure where I was going with this, kinda just making things up as I go :P If anyone has any ideas i'm open to suggestions xD. I'm not sure how many times I'll be able to update after this since school is starting for me but i'll do my best. Don't forget to review! :D *A/N*

Chapter 8

Damon stood on a balcony overlooking the river below him. It ran straight alongside the city and was filled with the bright glowing and reflective lights of the skyscrapers around him. The light chatter of nightly festivities reached his sensitive ears. If he wanted, he could probably listen in on the individual conversations below, but quite honestly, he didn't care. Absentmindedly he took a swing of the bottle of bourbon he had stolen from a bar below. At first the alcohol had burned his throat as it went down, but now all he felt was numb. Everything was numb. It wasn't as effective as turning off his humanity switch, but the alcohol helped him control the heightened emotions that came with being a vampire. Right now, he wasn't completely sure what he was feeling. Everything was just so complicated.

Carefully he reached into his pocket and drew out a small round object. The moon's rays illuminated the white milky, almost translucent, surface of the small stone in his hand. So much trouble for such a small object Damon thought as he stared at the small stone. For a moment, a vision of Katherine formed in the back of his mind. It was worth it Damon thought as he remembered her soft, beautiful face. The curve of her lips and her beautiful long hair. Though he had last seen her over a hundred years ago he could still remember her face just as clearly as if he had seen her yesterday. Without any warning, his mind took him to a different, more recent, place and Katherine's face morphed into a different, just as soft and beautiful face. Damon began to recall the previous day's events as his mind envisioned the feisty bartender.

Damon's brows furrowed into a look of confusion. Why was he thinking about her? More importantly, why had she risked her life to save him, especially after she knew what he was? It didn't make sense. Also, why couldn't he just let the man kill her? Damon normally had little care about human lives. It would have made his life easier if she was gone, it would have solved his problem. So why did he save her? Everything about this human confused and intrigued him. When he was around her, part of him wanted to open up and tell her everything but then another part, the rational one, reminded him that he was a vampire and she was nothing and everything he was doing right now was to get Katherine and this human was just a means to an end.

Damon stared at the stone in his hand a moment longer before returning to reality. He stood there for a minute more looking at its white and milky surface until a gruff voice interrupted him from his thoughts.

"I believe that belongs to us," came a voice behind him. Damon turned around with a sly smile not at all surprised and pocketed the precious rock.

"Technically, I stole it so now it belongs to me." Damon joked facing the two muscular men in suits.

"Give us what is ours" they replied in unison.

"Have you guys ever heard that saying. How does it go again?" Damon paused his face contorted into a mock look of thoughtfulness "Finders….keepers" as he said the last word Damon jumped over the railing, off the balcony and landed gracefully in the street about 4-5 stories below.

Charlotte stood at her post in the bar, filling up glasses, wiping off tables and occasionally making small talk with the customers. Some had sob stories others were just having a good time. Regardless of their predicament, she would listen and fill up their glass. It was surprising how much she knew about the people who came into her bar Charlotte thought. For instance, the man at the other end of the bar hunched over his shot glass had just fought with his girlfriend after he was found cheating and she kicked him out. He came in about once a month. A slightly older man over in the far corner had just lost his job after his boss caught him stealing funds. He was in periodically. Then there was the old man, probably in his late 50's, who was here almost every night, he was a known drunk, but he had a different story every time. The more Charlotte quietly and calmly filled up their glasses the more they divulged, and if anything Charlotte had learned this: people aren't naturally bad, something makes them so. As much as she listened, all Charlotte heard was how these men had screwed up, took a wrong turn, made the wrong decision and how they wished they could make everything right. Some blamed their family for their predicament, others their situation, some even blamed religion but in the end the decision was theirs, Charlotte was determined not to make the same choices. Yet she couldn't help but sympathize with them somehow. A long time ago these people probably had dreams and wants and aspirations, how easy it was for things to get complicated. She sighed, what was Damon's story? As she poured another glass she realized that she would probably never know. It wasn't as busy tonight, her coworker had finally gotten over her cold and was helping her at the other end of the bar. Other people were in the bar too, drinking and having a good time with their friends. Things were going pretty well...so why did she feel like something was missing. The routine was all too common for Charlotte, she needed something….more.

As much as she tried to avoid it, eventually Charlotte's mind wandered to the other night. Damon had seemed so relaxed in his joking manner before he clammed up again. As much as she would like to deny it, he intrigued her and he had since the moment they had met. The way he spoke, Charlotte could tell there was more to him than he was letting on. She began to recall the man in the suit, the vampire, and the fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she walked to him. She remembered how helpless she felt and made a point not to ever feel that way again. Regardless of if Damon wanted to see her or not she couldn't forget this world that had been unveiled to her, and she had to learn how to live in it.

As Charlotte poured another drink the two men in suits who had been sitting at the far table went unnoticed until they walked right up to her.

"What can I get you-" Charlotte began until she looked up and recognized one of the men from the other night her eyes widened.

"Well hello darling, if I wasn't a vampire I would have a nice little bruise because of you." he smirked remembering their encounter the other night. "I intend to return the favor" quickly he grabbed her wrist and Charlotte screamed in surprise. As she looked around she noticed that no one even moved a muscle as if she wasn't being assaulted.

"Don't worry about them," the other man in the suit grinned. "They've been compelled." He grabbed a needle from inside his jacket and stabbed Charlotte's arm releasing its contents into her bloodstream.

"Not as effective as snapping someone's neck but you're no use to us dead." The next thing Charlotte knew, everything went dark and her eyes rolled back into her head as she collapsed on the ground.

The minute his feet touched the ground Damon began quickly walking in the direction of the crowd, eventually blending into the sea of partying people. He could feel them following behind him but wasn't really bothered. He calmly shoved his way between people until eventually he was out of the crowd and walking down the starkly lit streets in front of him. It was less crowded here, almost no one was to be seen. Suddenly, two more figures appeared in front of him blocking his way forward. Looking behind him, sure enough the previous two were still behind him.

"Look, I'm flattered that you sent four henchmen but this really isn't necessary. You can have your precious moonstone as soon as I'm done."

"Your wishes are of no concern to me, now return what is mine." a fifth voice came out of the darkness and a man in another suit came out but he was slightly different from the rest. He seemed older and crueler. As soon as he spoke that last word all for henchmen rushed Damon all at once. After a couple minutes of fighting, Damon stepped back bruised and bloodied but a crazy grin was still plastered on his face. Slowly he backed into an alley and stood there staring at the henchmen. Once again they tried running at him but found themselves blocked by an invisible barrier.

"Hmm, maybe you shouldn't have pissed off the witches." Damon tisked.

"And maybe, Damon, you should keep better track of your human playthings." the man said as another two henchmen brought out an unconscious Charlotte, and the smug look on Damon's face fell.