Hey guys! Thank you so much for all of your wonderful comments. I appreciate them from the bottom of my fan fic writing/reading heart! First of all, a massive thanks goes out to:

glasvegas, fanficfan84, RockerChick08, babyshan211, saderia, etgoddess, Impress, ladySnowRose and ILoveRomances

Your thoughts and opinions definitely add fuel to any writer's fire. You definitely gave me some things to think about for chapter 11 ;). In the meantime, enjoy this one and let me know what you thought!

Chapter 4: I Ran Away

Tituba was still unsure as to why the incantation hadn't worked right. The thought of Bonnie standing there so helplessly in the middle of a ring of flames made her wince in pain.

She had never seen it go so horribly wrong. The fire spell wasn't even the most complex one she had yet to teach her. Of course, whether or not she continued with the lessons would depend on just how frightened Bonnie was feeling now when it came to magic.

Explaining a supernaturally induced forest fire was difficult enough and there were already more than enough people who suspected Tituba of witchcraft. All she needed was to ignite further suspicion by being at the scene of a peculiar fire in the woods.

So she did the only thing that made sense at the moment. She held onto her granddaughter and began the trek home, while Stefan and Elena crept back onto the sidewalk that divided the woods and the town. As skillfully as they could, the twosome staged a scene.

"Stefan, oh my God! The woods - the woods are on fire!" Elena shouted, causing a couple preoccupied with each other's lips to immediately look up.

"Somebody call the fire department!" Stefan yelled. "Anyone! Does anyone have a phone?"

The young man who had been making out with his girlfriend, unwound his arms from her waist and retrieved his iPhone. It took a mere seven minutes for the Mystic Falls Fire Department to arrive on the scene.

Extinguishing the flames, on the other hand, took much longer. Two hours later, they had finally managed to fully contain the blaze and keep it from engulfing the rest of Mother Nature.

Stefan and Elena gave their statements to the police, along with the random couple and left the scene of the crime.

***

"I'm a hypocrite," Bonnie said horrified. "I drive a Prius to be green and I just torched the woods!"

"It wasn't your fault," Tituba soothed, rubbing her back gingerly. "It was mine."

Bonnie's physical state had improved some after Stefan gnawed at his own wrist and allowed her to drink from him. This was the second time she'd tasted his blood.

No matter how hard she had tried to pretend the red liquid was Kool-Aid, the taste reminded her of anything but. It was salty and metallic; unlike the sugary beverage she would much rather have been consuming.

Stefan and Elena had agreed to keep up the pretense that the fire in the woods was simply some natural occurrence. None of them would speak the truth about what happened that night - at least not the four of them.

There was one other person she was worried about. Damon.

He had swooped into the circle like a bird landing in its nest. For the same reasons humans avoid getting burnt, vampires always steered clear of flames - certain demise.

Yet he had risked it all to pluck her from the brink of death. Why?

One possible answer came to mind. "Grams," she began. "I need you to be completely honest with me right now."

"Of course," Tituba Bennett replied, taking her hand. "What's on your mind?"

"Why did you go see Damon at the boarding house?"

The older witch hadn't expected that. She had become very skilled at shielding her thoughts from those she wished to remain oblivious to her gifts - which led her to her next question...

"How do you know about that?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter," Bonnie insisted.

"I beg to differ."

"Why did you need to see him, Grams?" Bonnie was determined to get her answers. There would be no beating around the bush tonight - not after what she had just gone through.

There was only one way to truly convey the importance of her visit with Damon. Tituba rose from the beige sofa and went into her study to retrieve a black leather journal.

"I wasn't really sure how I was going to explain all of this to you," she started, taking a seat beside the confused teenager. "You can read the rest later. For now, take a look at the last entry."

July 6, 1864

The townspeople have gone mad. They're coming for us - all of us.

The witches, the vampires, the weres. Even the fairies don't stand a chance. Mayor Abbott is intent on carrying out this blasted extermination.

It all reeks of insanity and yet, here we are in the midst of even more ignorance and intolerance. As if we needed anymore of that in a century riddled with it.

Tabitha and I tried to reason with the Supernaturals, but they refuse to stand together and fight. They've left us no choice.

Tonight we chanted a prophecy that will change the world forever. Two Supernaturals will come together, bound by unconditional love.

One shall be of our kind; the other will lust for blood. They will bear a child together - a hybrid, in the truest sense of the word.

There is something else. In supplying Tabitha with the blood that flows through my veins, I have tied the Bennetts to the prophecy.

A witch from my bloodline and the dead man who walks. He will taste her blood and she will be his Queen for an eternity.

Their child will be the answer to our prayers - a symbol of peace and unity, should 'the cleanse' return to Mystic Falls.

"Grams, you can't be serious."

She had never seen her granddaughter look so bewildered at any point in her life. Bonnie had her hand placed protectively over her heart, eyes wide in response to what she had just read.

"Is this real?" she shrieked finally.

"It's called the 'Prophecy of Tabitha Bellwain,'" Tituba softly began to explain. "And that journal you've got there, belonged to your great, great, great, great grandmother."

"Emily Bennett," Bonnie chucked in. "So let me get this straight. Not only did she possess my body and nearly get me killed, but she's also condemned me to an eternity with the man who tried to do it? Have I got that right?"

Slowly and filled with insurmountable regret, Tituba nodded her reply.

Eyes bulging from their sockets, the witch yelped hysterically. "No! I don't believe it! I don't believe you!"

"Why would I lie?" Tituba tried to reason with her. "I love you, Bonnie. With every fiber of my being, I love you. Do you think this is what I wanted for you?"

"I will never love him," she exclaimed bitterly through gritted teeth. "I'd rather die than be in the arms of someone so cruel...so, so vile!"

Utterly baffled and outraged by the insinuation of a lifetime with Damon Salvatore, the young witch flew off the sofa in a huff and climbed the stairs to her room.

Her grandmother called after her, but to no avail. Sighing, Tituba decided it was only fair to grant her a moment alone - especially after the night she had just experienced.

***

Bonnie stood before the full length mirror in her room observing her slender 17-year-old frame. Her brown cheeks were now flushed bright cherry and soaked with tears. She wondered silently how her world had gone topsy turvy in so little time.

Why on earth would anyone leave the fate of the Supernatural world in the hands of a teenage witch - and a coldblooded killer?

Had they all suddenly gone and lost their minds? Sure, it had been a case of random selection among Bennett women, but did the fates honestly expect her to be okay with having a child so young? And could they at least have chosen someone for her with a little more compassion?

Needless to say, there were enough public advisory posters on the bathroom walls at Robert E. Lee describing the consequences of sex without a condom and teen pregnancies were always either number one or two.

She had seen them so often it was hard not to memorize the tiny bullet points about the new responsibilities "you and Billy will need to start taking on - all while cramming for the SATs."

Bonnie lifted her shirt just high enough to reveal her flat, toned stomach. She placed her hand right above her navel and began to rub gently in a smooth, circular motion.

Someday I'll have a child...but it sure as hell won't be with Damon Salvatore.

Lifting the plum tank top over her head, she tossed it into a wicker laundry basket and walked into her closet. She could still smell the burning trees even though it had been nearly three hours since they had left the woods.

She honestly had tried hard to control the flames. Her heart and mind worked together, willing the chaos to stop. Why then did it not?

The young witch emerged from her closet clad in a pair of thin black yoga pants and a peach t-shirt. She lifted the white comforter on her bed and crawled beneath to warm herself.

Her eyes came to rest upon the black leather journal again. It lay mere inches from her feet. It was bound together by a thin strap and heavily worn.

Just as she was about to reach for it, the ringing of the doorbell filled the house. Immediately, Bonnie rose to her feet and went to the window. There on the porch stood Stefan and Elena in their usual hand holding, facing each other in adoration stance.

Turning ever so slightly, she caught sight of a twitching among the leaves in the tree just outside. It wasn't particularly windy tonight, she thought.

There it was again. The sudden movement of green against green. Unlocking the window, she slid it open just a touch.

The doorbell rang again and as it sounded, a large black crow fluttered its wings and flew off into the night sky.

***

"Stefan told me everything," Elena told Grams. "Do you really believe it?"

The three of them sat in the living room and spoke in hush tones. Bonnie was already upset; no need to ruffle her feathers anymore tonight with talk of Damon.

"I don't want to," Tituba admitted. "But everything I know about Emily, Tabitha...their powers and that spell..."

"Well maybe there's some kind of reversal spell," the slender brunette chimed in. "If they could chant the prophecy into existence, maybe you can-"

"No." Her answer came fast and firm. "What's been prophesied cannot be reversed - not through magical means."

"Then what means?"

Grams crooked her index finger at the two teens and beckoned them forward. "Death."

"No!" Elena shrieked, suddenly unable to control her vocal chords.

"But their fates have already been sealed," Stefan inserted. "They can't die."

"There are others out there who would seek to destroy them and keep the prophecy from coming to pass," the witch revealed. "If anything ever happened to Bonnie..." Her voice trailed off then, as she shook her head in silence.

"Others. Like who?" Stefan questioned.

"Other witches, warlocks, werewolves...the pure blood extremists-"

"Pure bloods? Werewolves - they exist?" Elena spat.

Tituba nodded. "They have for centuries. We live in a world with an underbelly of supernatural activity that would send the mortals into a fit of hysteria if they knew it existed."

"Just how big of an underbelly are we talking?" the human teen inquired.

"Darling, there are witching clans on every continent. The same goes for weres, fairies and vampires. Just because you rarely see Asian or Indian vampires on True Blood, doesn't mean they don't exist," Tituba explained. "Great ancient civilizations. They're among the oldest of their kind."

"Whoa," the teen remarked, running her fingers through her hair. "Talk about a night of revelations."

"Do the others know the exact identities of the chosen two?" Stefan queried.

"No," she replied, drawing sighs of relief from both he and Elena. "Fortunately Emily and Tabitha placed protection spells on their journals. Only Bennett and Bellwain women may open them...or the chosen vampire, himself. These books have been closely guarded by my family for over 145 years."

"But I saw it," Stefan chucked in.

"You and Damon share a bloodline," she began. "That would be enough. And he gave you consent to read from it."

"Do you think the others are already in Mystic Falls?" Elena asked.

"Honestly, I...don't know," Tituba answered solemnly.

Bonnie sat on the staircase and allowed each revelation to seep into her brain.

On the one hand, some might argue she should feel proud that the fates had chosen her to mother a child of peace and unity. Then again, that also meant a future with Damon.

It also meant her life would be in a perpetual state of danger and uncertainty.

She crept back up the staircase, attempting to exit quietly. The creaking of the aged oak gave her away as Stefan and Elena caught sight of her.

Looking guilty as ever, she made her way down the steps and into the living room. Landing with a soft thud against the cushion of an armchair, she kept her eyes on the Persian rug.

"Guess I don't have to ask how much of that you just heard," Tituba surmised.

"How can you be so certain it's me?" Bonnie asked, feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of information.

"You're the first Bennett woman that's ever been tasted by a vampire," she answered simply.

The thought made her skin crawl and her heart falter simultaneously. Of all the firsts she'd never wanted...

***

Bonnie stood barefoot on the richly hued hardwood floor of a home much larger and far more palatial than her own. She had never been here before.

Her hair had been lightly tousled into a silky mass. She wore a long black gown with thin straps and lace trim. Tiny goosebumps sprang up on the surface of her exposed skin.

There was a chill in the air. The witch rubbed her forearms repeatedly, hoping it would warm her even just a touch.

Her eyes surveyed the scene. The moldings, the arches, the antique paintings that adorned the walls. Everything had managed to maintain its luster throughout the years.

She called out, hoping there would be someone nearby to answer. Nothing in return. No sound, no creaking of footsteps nearby.
Bonnie appeared to be more or less alone.

The little witch eyed the mahogany staircase curiously. Slow, reluctantly, she began to climb her way to the second floor.

Once she arrived at the intermediate landing, she could hear a steady stream of music emerge from a room to her right. It was a hauntingly beautiful arrangement with a passionate, almost mournful violin solo.

She followed its alluring sound and found it was only a matter of time before she found herself standing in the doorway of a dimly lit room with blood red paint on the walls. Candles were scattered, illuminating everything in sight.

Bonnie's gaze shifted from the black iron-framed bed sitting against the wall to an Edison cylinder phonograph that looked as though it had been plucked straight from a shop in the early 1900s.

Elegant drapes sheathed the large windows nearby. The fabric was rich with intricate designs and embroidered with gold threading along the edges. Her lips were parted in awe of the opulent surroundings.

"I take it you approve of my humble abode?" a deep male voice hissed seductively into her right ear.

A chill ran down her spine. She could feel his icy breath dance across the delicate skin of her neck and shivered lightly. He snaked his arms around her waist and brought their bodies closer together.

The vampire allowed his left hand to linger languorously, while his other launched a sensual exploration of her young, fertile body. He traced slow, steady circles around her navel with his index finger before allowing it to glide up the length of her frame.

His hand froze for a moment before he whispered mischievously into her ears: "Where would you like me to touch you next?"

Slowly cupping her breast and massaging one nipple erect, he allowed his mouth to brush against her cheek. "Here?"

He moved lower this time, first stroking her fabric cloaked thigh before squeezing it. "What about here?"

Finally his hand slithered upward again. Resting against the soft raven curls beneath her gown, Damon trailed his lips along the satin butterscotch of her bare shoulders and allowed his canines to graze her lightly. "Or maybe this is where you really want me."

Her breath hitched. Before she could respond, he turned her body in his arms and stared deeply into her eyes. There was something fiery and so erotic in his ice blue gaze.

He continued to study her, knowing full well the effect his mere presence was having on her. "Damon," Bonnie began, almost breathless. "This can't...we can't."

His black shirt was unbuttoned and left just enough of his toned chest and abdomen exposed to make her voice catch in her throat again.

He was beautiful and he knew it. Even worse, he knew she knew it.

She pressed her palms against his chest in a bid for freedom. Resistance was futile. His lips came down hard upon hers in a penetrating expression of hunger.

Bonnie felt her knees weaken slightly and would have surely fallen onto the floor if not for the secure grip of his arms around her waist. She felt his tongue against her lips, trying to reach the warm sweetness of her mouth.

She wasn't about to relent, no matter how attractive he was. This was her body; she could control it...no matter whose hands were busy ravishing it.

His fingers traced her spine all the way down to her derriere where she felt his palms next. Swiftly, he scooped the petite witch off the floor.

"Put me dow..." Try as she might, the words weren't coming out right.

Instead, her legs came around his waist. As he placed her onto the bed, Damon quickly removed his shirt.

He watched her entranced. Her dark hair was fanned around her head like a raven colored halo, eyes wide with expectation and obvious fear of what being with him so intimately would mean for the purity of her soul.

She was angelic beneath him, though clad in his favorite shade.

Resting his elbows on either side of her, he placed one searing kiss upon her swollen, tender lips. "Are you frightened?"

She neither spoke nor nodded, but the expression on her face told him everything. "There's no need to be, little witch. I'll take care of you."

He continued his assault on her lips. His kisses drugged her senses, as his lips moved down her neck to the hollow at her throat.

Damon began tugging gently on the straps of her gown until finally two supple breasts revealed themselves. The Hershey Kiss-like buds were now erect and his for the taking.

He flicked his tongue lightly over one chocolate nub, before suckling deeply. Her body convulsed beneath his before her back arched involuntarily toward his.

"Ohhh...Damon," she moaned.

He lifted his head long enough to allow her a millisecond to breathe. She heard him growl low and found herself lost in his gaze.

She wanted him and he wanted her. Her green eyes were glazed over with passion and unadulterated lust as he whispered into her ear. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

That was all he needed. She watched in both horror and rapture as he leaned back before hurling his body forward again.

His fangs broke through the flesh of her neck. He sucked with an intensity she had never felt in her life. All she could say was "yes," as her eyes closed and her body began to tremble and ache.

The sounds of their sex grew fainter. The smell of him and the weight of his body on top of hers both began to dissipate.

When she was finally able to open her eyes, he was gone. Bonnie sat up swiftly in her bed and looked around frantically. She couldn't go on like this.

Pressing a hand against her sweat slicked forehead, she lay her head back against the fluffy pillow and tried to fall asleep. "This has to stop, Damon."

"I know," he whispered to himself. His breathing had become ragged and strained. The blue-eyed vampire gripped the tree branch tightly and allowed his gaze to linger on the sleeping witch, alone in her bedroom.

Such delicious, vivid dreams...for a virgin.

Damon smiled to himself as a gust of wind swept through his midnight locks. The erotic moment etched into his mind, he had become so desperately ravenous for her. Sweet, red, mystical nectar.

Something really had begun to stir inside of him after that night in the woods.