Damon dropped Elena off at Debbi's rented apartment. Like everything else in the Vegas vampire's life she changed homes every five years or so. "Keeping things fresh," she explained.
She had always had a soft spot for the handsome blue-eyed vampire, so when Damon asked her to help him she cheerfully agreed to keep Elena at her place and welcomed her with open arms. Besides, Debbi loved company and assured both of them they would have a fun 'girl's night'.
Damon, having taken care of Elena's safety, felt free to move ahead with his plan. He refused to accept defeat, and the plan he had thought up was desperate with very little chance of success and a possible bad outcome for him. In short, it was his favorite type of plan.
Damon dressed carefully, pausing to check himself out in the mirror. A last minute adjustment of his tie, a satisfied nod, a cocky wink, and he headed out.
He struck out at the first couple of places he tried, but the third one was the charm. He was stopped at the door as expected, but when he said the magic words, 'I'm a friend of Victor's', the bouncer at the door spoke into his earpiece. After a few moments the hard eyes turned to him, unchained the rope, and motioned him through.
He was met just inside the door by a vampire he recognized from his first meeting with the Old ones. The man wore an amused smile. "Victor would like to see who is using his name. I seriously doubt if he will be astonished that it is you."
A smiling, confident Damon swaggered after his escort. He was led past the public rooms to a private area with gaming tables. Victor was in the midst of a game of chance and didn't immediately look up or in any way recognize Damon's presence. Damon, arms folded, watched quietly as the cards were laid and the stakes raised. Once the current hand was decided Victor acknowledged him.
"Why am I not surprised to see you?" Victor seemed resigned to Damon's presence.
"I have a proposition for you." Damon was nothing if not bold.
Victor's eyebrows rose, and he gestured indicating Damon should continue.
"A little game of chance."
"And the stakes?" Victor inquired.
"If I win I get to talk to my brother," Damon responded.
Victor leaned back and sighed. "You are an annoying pest." He did, however, seem to consider Damon's offer. "What are you proposing to put up for your portion of the ante?"
"Any amount of money you want," Damon blithely answered. He doubted Victor would accept that, but it was worth a try.
He was correct. Victor just looked bored. "There is no amount of money you could possibly offer that would be of any interest to me."
Victor seemed about to dismiss him when Atarah slinked over. She examined Damon with the same intensity a cat would a mouse. She circled up behind her mate and nuzzled his ear.
Damon was secretly pleased to see her. He was relying on her to push Victor into the real deal he was going to suggest. He smiled his sexiest come hither smile, the one that had won him a score of uncompelled women, including an Original vampire. "How about I put myself up as the ante?"
Atarah's eyes burned with a lustful fire, and she licked her red full lips with anticipation. A throaty laugh escaped her. Eyes still on Damon she purred in Victor's ear. "I like this bet."
An amused smile lightened Victor's somber face for a moment. He knew his mate and her appetites. In truth he himself was not immune to Damon's charm.
He spoke in one of their common archaic languages. "Since it is a game of chance there is a possibility he might win. My honor will require that Stefan meet his brother."
Atarah answered in the same tongue. "After your talk last night I think he will yield to our request. If you explain that it is a matter of honor, and you would have to kill his brother rather than lose face Stefan will agree. He will not let his brother die."
Victor nodded thoughtfully. "You speak truth. As much as he runs away from him and the girl, I believe he would suffer anything rather than see them hurt."
Damon while maintaining a calm facade was fidgeting inside. The only word he could pick out was Stefan's name, and their expressions gave nothing away. He had a chilling moment of doubt that Victor would go for his proposal.
Atarah leaned against her mate angling her lush body to show off her curves. An inviting smile graced her lovely face as she huskily accepted his proposal. "Victor will play if we get you for a night. That's fair, wouldn't you say? A night with your brother against a night with you."
Damon didn't let his inner sigh of relief show. This was everything he had hoped for. This wouldn't be his first time in a threesome, so even if he lost as a backup plan he still had a chance to get closer to Atarah. He was confident enough in himself and his skill to wheedle himself into the inner set through her. It would leave the door open for a future meeting with his brother.
"It's a deal." Damon smiled at her, using his flirty eyes to tell her it was her he wanted all along. Her head lifted proudly and she flashed him a knowing smile in return.
He felt no reticence about deceiving or falsely leading her on. Wouldn't be the first time he had used his charm and looks to get what he wanted. Now he just had to win. The others at the table rose leaving the field to the two combatants. As he sat, Damon smugly pronounced, "By the way this isn't really fair. I'm ten times better than my brother. The stakes are lopsided."
Victor only rolled his eyes at his egotistical banter while the rest of the vampires including Atarah laughed. Victor requested a fresh pack of cards. While he was waiting for the new deck he spoke in a lilting language. Two of his entourage nodded and left.
Damon's eyes suspiciously followed their retreating backs, but neither Victor nor Atarah paid any attention to his concern.
He forgot about them once the cards came. He shuffled the deck and passed it to Victor to cut. He efficiently dealt the cards. The fact that Cuban cigars and that exceptional brandy Victor enjoyed soon made an appearance did not impair his ability to concentrate. He was in no way disconcerted by the fact that his body was on the line. This was actually the type of 'guys' night that he enjoyed. High stakes, the best cigars, excellent booze, and an audience. Right up his alley.
Lady Luck and skill were both on his side this night and at the end of two hours he found himself the winner.
Damon sighed deeply and slouched a little in the comfortable chair. The first step in his mini battle plan was successful. It all depended upon Victor now. Hopefully he would honor the deal, but there wasn't a thing he could do if the Old one didn't.
Victor took his defeat calmly and without acrimony. Victor motioned over a male and female vampire and spoke to them in English. "Go to the house and fetch Stefan. Explain the bet and that he must talk to his brother. Emphasize that this is a debt of honor for me and unless he wants the outcome that we spoke about last night he will do as I say. Bring him to Binion's in Old Vegas."
The two nodded respectfully and left.
Atarah slipped behind Damon and whispered regretfully in his ear, "It would have been fun."
He gently brought her hand to his lips and whispered back, "Perhaps another time."
She shrugged and walked away, hips swinging in an exaggerated sway.
Victor took a pen and notepad out of his breast pocket, wrote an address down for Damon, and ripped out the sheet. He slid it across the table. Damon reached for it, but Victor did not relinquish it. When Damon looked up inquiringly, Victor warned him. "Do not for a moment think about absconding with your brother. Elena will die if he is not returned to me."
Damon eyes widened a fraction, and he blinked. Victor continued his threat. "Yes, I know you tried to hide her, but as soon as you showed up I investigated how you tracked us down. Your friend Debbi with an 'I' as she prefers to be called is already dead. A stake through the heart is an excellent warning to those who would give out information about us." Victor was calm, but firm. "I will not be challenged."
Damon closed his eyes briefly as a sick feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach. He quickly squelched it. Debbi had never been more to him than a temporary diversion when he was bored, but she was a good hearted person, and he regretted that her death came from helping him. His face hardened, and his eyes narrowed against the pain of her passing.
He angrily wrenched the paper out from under Victor's fingers and rose from the table without speaking. His eyes, however, told Victor he could cheerfully kill him, and this would not be forgotten. He stormed out and headed towards Old Vegas.
Damon waited in the crowded noisy bar located in one of the original hotels in Old Vegas. This was a far less rarified atmosphere than Victor's favorite haunts. The smell of cigarettes, stale booze, and sweat crazed gamblers was overwhelming. The constant ringing of slot machines was never ending and annoying, but it would cover their words from any listening vampires. The garish red and purple rugs were stained and littered with cigarette butts, but drinks were free for the gamblers, and the slots were cheap.
He idly played blackjack on the sticky bar while waiting for his brother. Suddenly he sensed him. He turned quickly to see an unhappy Stefan standing behind him. His brother wouldn't meet his eyes. His hands were jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket, and his posture was stiff and unyielding.
Damon tapped the person next to him. "This seat's taken." He dilated his pupils, and the person apologizing profusely, grabbed his drink and left.
Damon waved the bartender over and ordered him a bourbon.
As Stefan remained standing Damon ordered. "Sit!"
Stefan sat, his hands clenched in his lap, refusing to touch the bourbon the bartender placed in front of him.
Damon looked at him for a moment before starting. "Why? Why did you run out on us when we needed you? And to them? Are you crazy? I never met a more perverted duo. How could you stay with them?"
Damon watched as Stefan just pressed his lips into a thin line and refused to speak. He knew he wasn't getting anywhere yelling at his brother, but he needed to vent his emotions. He started again, his voice expressing his concern. "We were worried about you, bro. Both of us."
Stefan gave an amused jerk and spoke his first words. "Really? Whatcha do? Tell your puppy dog that she was supposed to be concerned about me. Doesn't that make me feel better?"
Damon winced. "I can't help the sire bond, Stefan. It is what it is." He sighed deeply and took a slug of whiskey. "Why are you with them?"
Stefan shrugged. "Why not? At least I know what they want." He finally turned to look at his brother. "There's no lying there, Damon. They don't pretend. There's no betrayal."
Damon shifted his gaze away from the accusation in those green eyes. "I didn't want to—"
Stefan interrupted him. "What part didn't you want? To fall into bed with my girlfriend the day after we broke up? To lie to me and tell me you were going to unsire her?" His voice was bitter as he continued. "What was good for me around you two? To have my heart ripped out over and over again? To have her tell me she didn't even remember loving me? To have her tell me she didn't want to be human, and I was wasting my time?"
There was an uncomfortable silence between them until Stefan spoke again. "I'm what? One hundred and sixty four? Sixty six? Sixty seven?
"You don't know how old you are?" Damon's voice expressed his astonishment.
"Yah, well I don't celebrate my birthday anymore so it's tough to keep track." Stefan toyed with his drink.
Damon looked down, shaking his head. "You make this tough on me, bro. Everything I say just keeps pointing out where I've gone wrong. I'm sorry about Lexi."
"That wasn't really my intent. I was going to say it's time I put the dreams and the what if's behind me. Time I accepted the reality of what I am and what my life will be." Defeat was evident in Stefan's voice and the slump of his shoulders.
He spoke again before Damon had a chance to respond. "Then just think about what I've done. Tricked you with vervain and tried to lock you up for fifty years. Lied to you about the spellbook for the tomb. Killed Andie. Was responsible for Elena dying." Stefan laughed softly. "Scratch that last one. Worked out fine for you."
Damon winced again. He looked over at the now expressionless face and the defeated green eyes, and a sense of déjà vu washed over him. A kaleidoscope of human Stefan faces threatened to make him dizzy: laughing Stefan learning how to play the new game of football, worried Stefan intervening one more time between an angry him and his father, a mischievous Stefan innocently enjoying the fact that Katherine had chosen him and for the first time he had one upped his handsome older brother; a sincere Stefan trying to assure his brother he hadn't betrayed him and Katherine, an admiring Stefan watching his brother finish putting on his army uniform.
A pain sharper than a wooden stake pierced his heart, and he could have cheerfully died rather than bear the agony of it. This was not supposed to be. He couldn't accept this shadow of a Stefan. He would not accept it.
Damon looked at the bar and raised his glass. He took another slug and wiggled his fingers at the bartender for a refill. "This is not good for you, Stefan. Come home and we can start over." He was pleading, knew it, and didn't care.
Stefan shook his head. "What could possibly be better at home? I'm not allowed to kill here, Damon. They know how it tears me up when I lose control. They stop me."
Stefan finally picked up the liquor and he drained it in one shot, enjoying the burn in his belly. "You two only fuel the rage. They help me control it."
"And what do they ask from you in return?" Damon fired back.
"Sex and blood," Stefan spoke bluntly. "Payment for services rendered. But at least I know what they want."
Damon shook his head. "This is not the life you should be living. I never wanted this to happen to you."
"Well, it did and it works." Stefan rubbed his temples wearily and then cupped his hands over his mouth, elbows on the bar supporting his face.
Damon tentatively put a hand on his brother's shoulder only to have it shrugged off.
"It is what it is, Damon." Stefan sat up straight. "The thought of seeing her again makes me want to kill myself." He laughed harshly. "I don't want to be around either of you. Enough betrayals. Enough lies. Enjoy your lives together. Mine has nothing to do with you anymore."
Damon whispered to him. "I'm not leaving you here. Take this." Damon slipped a cell phone into his brother's hand. "We can set up a plan to whisk you out of here."
He was beyond frustrated when Stefan placed the cell phone openly on the bar. His gaze was unrelenting. "I said go away. I won't go back with you." Stefan stood. "You got the talk that you won. Go back to Mystic Falls or wherever you two want to go, but leave me alone."
Damon stood also. "We're still brothers, Stefan. We're still family." He held out his right hand, unconsciously mimicking the gesture his brother had used to reunite them after their first major breech.
Stefan looked down at the outstretched hand and then up to his brother's face. "Family doesn't do to each other what we've done." He stepped close bringing his lips to within a hair's breadth of Damon's ear. "If you really want to do something for me then make sure I never see your or your sired girlfriend's face again. You spot me first you leave. That's the only thing you can ever do for me again."
He brushed past his brother. A man and a woman that Damon recognized were leaning against a slot machine. They straightened up as Stefan walked up to them. They quickly fell into place, one on each side of him. The man looked back as if insuring Damon wasn't following. The woman was talking on a cell phone as she walked.
Damon slowly sat back down on the barstool. A patron came up and asked hopefully, "This seat empty?"
"It's taken," he said absently.
He hung his head staring at his glass, thinking. When the bartender came by and asked if he wanted another he raised his eyes and issued an order. "Keep filling it as soon as I empty the glass."
"Anything in particular?" the compelled bartender asked.
"Might as well make it the cheap stuff. In a short time I won't care anymore."
He stayed that way until Elena came in. She looked miserable. "Oh Damon, they killed Deb—"
"I know." He interrupted her.
"I tried to argue with them – fight them . . . " She made a helpless gesture. "Nothing worked. I couldn't stop them." Her voice reflected her pain.
He tried for a nonchalant shrug and tone. "Collateral damage."
Elena seeing the true pain in his eyes wasn't fooled. She touched his shoulder consolingly before taking the bar stool next to him. "How did it go with Stefan?" she asked after a moment.
"Not good." He tried for a joke. "Hey, at least he didn't stab me."
She smiled tremulously knowing he was upset. "What do we do now, Damon? We don't have a chance unless he cooperates, and it sounds like he won't." She shook her head sadly. "He must hate us." She shrugged helplessly again. "We're outnumbered, and we're not strong enough."
Damon took another swig of whiskey and looked at her. Suddenly he grinned. "You're right. We're not strong enough." He put special emphasis on the 'We're'.
She looked at him and saw his trademark Damon smirk. "What're you up to?" she asked curiously.
"I just thought of an awesome plan. This is an awesome plan even for me – the king of awesomeness." He laughed to himself. "Truly spectacular."
He pulled out his cell phone. Elena's eyes widened as she listened to his whispered conversation. There were several calls, and he had to do a lot of explaining, pleading, and convincing, but for the first time since they got here she thought maybe, just maybe, they had a chance.