Blood Witch

7

Her thoughts went instantly to Damon and the state he must be in right at this second. There was no way that she could think of anything, not even her own fate if she went back, when she knew that it was possible Damon was in a critical condition and he needed blood. She didn't know if she had enough blood inside her to heal him completely, but she knew that it did not matter. Maybe fate had brought vampirism upon her for a reason, and maybe the reason was so that she could save Damon – the one being on earth that she felt a spiritual tie to, and the only one in the world she desired to be with for the forever that now stretched before her.

There was a disturbance from the other side of the barn and she froze. Footsteps on the ground behind her, the sound of the wind, the sound of a smile. She didn't know how she knew it was the sound of a smile, what words could describe the sound of an expression changing, but somehow her vampire senses told her so. Soft foot-falls, which would have been inaudible to her if she were human, caught her attention and held it. She knew she didn't have to breathe any more, but she found the habit hard to break. She tried to focus only on the sound of her pursuers foot-steps on the fallen corn stems, but the wind that blew made the task more difficult. It was until the footsteps stopped close behind her that she was aware of them at all. She did not want to turn around.

Cool fingers on her spine, their first contact and the moment she knew for certain that she never had any hope of out-running Klaus. As his strong arms snaked around her, her insides turned to ice and her skin grew super-sensitive. He could make her shiver just by moving his finger-tips to spots on her neck and face. "I need you Bonnie," he told her in a whisper against the lobe of her ear, "but I will try and make this as painless as possible..." he caught her by the mouth and worked his lips in a rhythm against her's.

He was a good kisser, there was no doubt about that, but even with so much skill he could never make her feel as good as when she was kissed by Damon. Just thinking his name brought the memory back and the phantom feel of his lips replaced the physical presence of Klaus's. With her eyes closed, she could pretend that it was Damon's hands she felt leisurely stroking her back, his tongue mingling with her's. He moaned, "We could be perfect for each other, Bonnie," his breath was so hot against her skin when he spoke that it felt like being caressed by flames.

She pulled back and stared at what she had convinced herself was Damon. Klaus seemed disappointed, the fire of passion freezing once again in his eyes, but resigned. How had he done that? She wondered silently. How had he convinced her he was Damon when he was so obviously not? With her eyes shut, she could have sworn she was in Damon's arms, that she felt Damon's tongue mingling with her's, his arms wrapped around her – but how could she have been so wrong? How could she have ever thought Klaus was him? She had thought before that she could never, ever, make that mistake. And yet she had.

"No," she said, catching him off-guard enough that he stumbled back when she pushed at his chest, "No. You are not Damon. You will never convince me you are."

He hadn't expected this to be her response, and he took a moment to register what had happened. Had she really been imagining it was someone else kissing her just then? He didn't want to believe that her moans had not been for the same reasons as his, but he had a sneaking suspicion that this was the truth. Not that it mattered; what he had planned would probably end up killing her anyway, and there was no better way of murdering someone than with a bitter heart. He would be damned if he'd allow himself to be crippled by unrequited love again. "You only die once, best to make the most of it." He sneered right in her face before slapping her so hard around the face that she blacked out from the pain of a broken neck.

He found that her head dangled a bit as he ran with her in his arms to the place where his family waited.

Damon felt the burning against his skin and found each breath he took to be an effort. His ring finger was bare, he noticed the moment he wiggled his fingers experimentally. Damn. This was the only word he was capable of thinking as the skin of his face began to blister. The Figlio di Troiatook his sun-ring and... Bonnie? Where was she? Damn.

TBC