Hey Bamon fans! Sorry for the long wait! Here's the latest chapter of "Something Supernatural." Six more chappies to go before this fic is done!
Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has read SS or commented or even skimmed through it. I always love reading what you guys have to say!
So this week I decided to pay homage to some of the great Bamon mvid makers out there. How? Well I've basically chosen each of the songs I loved the most that just happened to be used for Bamon mvids. This week I've got four and next week, I'll have another four. Enjoy and let me know what you think!
"Say When" by The Fray - Mvid by darkchick843
"All That I'm Asking For" by Lifehouse - Mvid by Sikam16
"Flower For A Ghost" by Thriving Ivory (Not used for a Bamon vid, but really relevant to a certain long haired brunette in this story)
"Bloodstream" by Stateless - Mvid by quin611
Chapter 14: Love Always
Royal blood shall stain the ground
And cleanse this space.
Then shall come the sound
And all will crumble in this decrepit place.
They scrambled for the exit as the earth trembled violently beneath their feet. If they didn't find a way out soon, they would surely end up buried beneath the rubble – right along with the remains of The Three.
Damon leaped forward and scooped Bonnie into his sturdy arms, refusing to lose any ground by running at mere mortal speed. Swerving around each bend in the dimly lit tunnel, he dodged sand and moss-covered stones as they plummeted around them onto the sand and gravel.
Stefan was right on his heels, clutching Elena's fragile body snugly against his taut chest. She felt so light in his embrace, her emerald green dress barely hugging the contours of her starved body.
They had to monopolize whatever small amount of time Fiona had bought them and flee Ireland as quickly as they could. Just because The Three were dead didn't mean their henchmen would back down.
Every man and woman who believed so vehemently in their ways was sure to come after them. The destruction of the lair would seal the cave indefinitely, ridding it of the darkness that had been living there for so long.
Hate and intolerance, however, were cyclical; it was only a matter of time before three others were appointed to lead the clan. By sacrificing herself, Fiona had vaporized the intuitive waters, preventing future clansmen from seeking its much coveted council.
There would be no hidden cave, no ruins and no stone thrones to sit upon. The destruction of the lair was a declaration from the Bellwains to the rest of the Supernatural world that "Yes indeed, good can and will absolutely triumph over evil."
This would be the first of many battles to come – that much Bonnie could feel intuitively. If there were warlocks so bent on her destruction, who else was lurking around the corner, waiting to end her life and halt The Bellwain Prophecy?
She could feel herself growing dizzier by the second, as her body wavered back and forth in Damon's arms. He moved so swiftly she could swear the whole world was spinning repeatedly on its axis and at some point or another; she would go flying into outer space.
Then she felt her body slam harshly against his chest as he came to an abrupt stop. They were back in the same room they had all fallen into after free-falling through the jet black portal.
Bonnie's spidey senses were tingling like crazy. Since they had not led them astray yet, Damon clung to her every instruction when it came to navigating the series of interconnecting underground pathways.
They could have gone racing through the first tunnel; logic would have dictated as much. Then again, this was the Supernatural world they were talking about.
Logic didn't reign supreme in a world where fairies flew across the night sky or where werewolves cried out ferociously against the dramatic imagery of a full moon set in stark contrast against pitch black.
No. There was little, if any room at all for "common sense" or what silly mortals deemed "absolute impossibilities."
Impossible, on the other hand, could be applied to co-existing with humans. Damon snorted at the thought, remembering the way he and his brother had been brutally shot and killed by the townspeople the night of their murderous rampage.
He swerved expeditiously around every bend in the tunnel, repositioning his arms slightly so that Bonnie was now practically glued to his body. "Keep going!" she shouted, feeling an onslaught of visions hijacking every cell in her brain.
This was the way – without a doubt.
She could feel a sudden sense of torridness accumulating inside of her chest again. It was like her body was gradually becoming engulfed by flames and there was nothing she could do to extinguish them.
Damon caught a burst of bright red light against Bonnie's chest. The Bellwain amulet was astir again, hopefully not channelling spirits this time.
Stefan quickened his pace until he was side by side with his brother. He glanced down at the flickering object and flashed him an inquisitive glare. What's it doing?
In truth, Damon didn't need Bonnie's verbal prompting about which turn to take or how far to swerve to the left. He could see every route meticulously mapped out in her mind.
At times it felt like his peripheral sight was fading in and out, leaving him with a deeply unpleasant case of tunnel vision. The torches placed periodically along the walls had become blurs of gold and bronze.
He shook his head from time to time to regain focus. At least it was as easy as that for him; for Bonnie, there was nothing else she could do but endure the dizzying array of visions until the spell she was under wore off.
It was like Fiona had said. Bonnie was a magnet for Supernatural activity – no matter how unpleasant.
Damon eyed his brother and grunted in frustration. Somebody's beaming directions into Bonnie's brain right now.
Staring at him quizzically, Stefan arched a brow. Who? Tabitha?
Haven't got a clue. He shrugged lightly, accelerating his speed and urging his younger brother to do the same.
They charged forward with such ferocity in both their strides. Clenching his jaw, Stefan gazed down at Elena, still struggling to keep her drooping eyelids even slightly ajar.
He unleashed a low, animalistic growl that echoed throughout the tunnel. Bonnie shuddered in response, tightening her hold around Damon's neck.
The blue-eyed vampire observed his brother wearily. Calm. The fuck. Down.
The sight of Elena's flawless skin now marred by the carving of the word "Duine" into her forehead had been the final straw. It fostered in Stefan, the greatest rage he had ever known.
He wanted to rip someone to shreds. Go on a murderous rampage throughout Fior Territory, perhaps. Anything to ensure that anyone who was even remotely associated with The Three got what they deserved – no mercy and total savagery.
Tapping into the disturbing array of thoughts scattered throughout the mind of Stefan Salvatore, Damon wondered silently, would his dear baby brother – he who is goodness and kindness personified – ever be able to wean himself off of the human stuff?
That deeply satisfying, delectable, strawberry-syrup-like elixir that taunts the taste buds and conjures saliva... Damon swiped his canines with his tongue at the mere thought.
He and Stefan bolted around the next bend. It had been years since he had seen his little brother transform into a bat.
The last time they had flown anywhere together in their transformed state was 1963. Hoards of screaming girls – and fainting ones in comparable numbers – all lined up in Manchester to see John, Paul, Ringo and George take to the stage.
Of course, Stefan had intended on going alone. Damon, ever the persistent bastard, wouldn't take no for an answer; it was, after all, his mission in the afterlife to cause his baby brother inordinate amounts of grief and torment.
The rocks continued to descend upon them like a furious storm of hale. It slammed into them with tremendous force.
Stefan and Damon had their bodies leaned forward to take the brunt of the hammering, shielding Bonnie and Elena as best they could. It was like the end of the world was upon them and all they could do was run as fast as their feet afforded them.
"Damon!" Bonnie yelped, tugging on the collar of his leather jacket. "Wait!"
"For what? For us to get buried inside this place?" he balked.
Yanking him closer, she stared intently into his blue eyes. "Do you trust me?"
If you had asked him that question weeks ago, the answer would have been a resounding "Hell no!" Now all he could see in those emerald orbs were strength and fierce conviction.
"I do," he breathed against her lips.
Stefan steadied himself against the wall of the tunnel, cradling Elena in his arms. He caressed her cheek tenderly in the palm of his hand and silently swore to himself that nothing bad would ever happen to her again.
He then eyed his brother curiously as Bonnie's body began to convulse violently. She craned her neck forward, shut her eyes and clutched the crimson gem solidly.
Her movements were disturbingly mechanical – an indication to them that the little witch was now being possessed by someone...or something.
Damon placed his palm on her cheek and tried to stir her from her state of entrancement. "Come on, Bonnie. Stay with me. I'm right here. Stay with me," he urged in a voice so desperate and uncharacteristic, Stefan swore he could finally imagine his brother as the prophesied vampire.
Then in one swift motion, her head flung backward and her eyelids parted just a touch to reveal two slivers of pure white. "Bonnie?" Damon whispered, tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ear.
"Díolúine ó dhliteanas sibhialta an bac go bhfuil seilbh linn laistigh de na ballaí. Deontas slánú chugainn roimh an fómhar." The words fell from her lips in a controlled, unflinching manner.
No mispronunciations, no fumbling between difficult words. It was the voice of a studied, masterful Witch Goddess – and her voice bore a beautiful and distinct lilt that told you she was of Irish blood.
But who was it? Tabitha? Fiona? Or someone higher up the mystical totem pole?
Before he could consider any other options, Damon watched in astonishment as the wall across from Stefan began to crack. They continued to shield the girls from the falling debris, but it was becoming more difficult to withstand the onslaught of pain bearing down on them so quickly.
The amulet was still aglow, growing more fiery with each passing second. Damon could tell the crumbling stone would send even more dust and sand flying into their eyes and shouted for his brother to shield himself.
With their arms braced protectively over themselves, they turned their backs to the wall and heard a thunderous boom. Swinging their bodies around full circle, they found themselves face to face with an opening.
It led to what seemed like another tunnel, but as they ran farther, the width of it became much larger. They were no longer being battered by falling stones.
Damon glanced down at Bonnie again. The gem was dimming – a sign that whatever presence had inhabited her body mere moments before, was now leaving.
She gasped aloud and tightened her arms around his neck. "What just happened?"
"Another possession, baby." He kissed her forehead and kept moving as fast as he could.
A minute later, they arrived at the mouth of a cave. The pitch black sky was generously sprinkled with stardust, casting an enchanting glow over the open field they had stumbled upon.
"We need to get to The Stone Circle, Damon." Bonnie stared up at him with urgency in her eyes. He relished the sight of her glorious green irises. "We can use the portal to get home, but we need to get there fast."
She was right. At any moment, the henchmen of The Fior would take to the countryside in search of The Chosen Witch and her comrades. They couldn't take that chance.
Stefan and Damon exchanged knowing glances. "Do you trust me?" the blue-eyed vampire whispered into Bonnie's right ear.
"I do." That was all he needed to hear from her.
"Close your eyes," he told her softly.
"Why?"
"You said you trusted me," he reminded her swiftly.
"I do trust you, but-"
"No buts," he interjected. "Close 'em."
Reluctantly, she did as she was told. It became very quiet around them, save for the crickets chirping nearby.
Bonnie focused on the silence, inhaled the clean air and screamed her lungs off when she opened her eyes again and found herself ascending into the sky at torpedo-like speed.
Her hair whipped around her face as she stared up at Damon, eyes wide with utter fright. "I told you not to open 'em," he smirked smugly.
"Are we – are we flying?" she stammered, shutting her eyelids again as tightly as she could.
"I'm a man of many talents," he grinned, as she dug her nails into his shoulder blades.
If Bonnie hadn't been so terrified of heights, she would have open her eyes and then rolled them in reply. Instead, she simply sighed and pressed her body firmly against his.
Elena was no longer trapped in that hellish cavern; that alone was reason enough to rejoice on the inside. Now they just had to make it back to Mystic Falls.
Damon navigated the skies with relative ease. He did, after all, spend a great deal of time disguised as a crow.
Stefan followed closely behind. "Do you recognize this place?"
"Green rolling hills as far as the eye can see? Hmmm, if I had to guess...I'd say we're still in Ireland...Batman."
"And here, I was beginning to wonder...sociopath," Stefan replied, rolling his brown eyes in irritation.
"Ouch," Damon winced in pretend pain.
The brothers scanned every inch of the countryside, until moments later; a vaguely familiar sight peaked out from within a cluster of trees. Everything was miniature in size from where they flew; it was like staring down at bunches of broccoli with little Monopoly houses scattered throughout.
Damon studied the white aluminum siding on the structure carefully. Then it hit him.
It was the tourism information center he and Bonnie had seen – right before they ended up at The Stone Circle. He shifted his gaze further right and focused on a patch of land that, to mere mortal eyes, would have looked barren in the dark.
"There it is!" he shouted, positioning himself to make a swift landing.
Bonnie peered up at him with a relieved expression on her adorable face. "Almost there," he assured her with a smirk. "Ready to work your mojo?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," she gulped, trying not to sound half as nervous as she felt.
Then again, how could she not be? She had never actually used a portal before – as herself anyway.
The last time she and Damon had traveled to The Stone Circle, Tabitha Bellwain had been in completely control of her body and vocal chords. It was she who unlocked the portal.
At least now, Bonnie knew why. The pieces fit together like an intricately designed puzzle.
As they drew closer to the field, she could feel Damon's body tighten protectively around her. His eyebrows were furrowed and his forehead was creased with sudden perplexity.
She soon noticed that both of the Salvatore siblings were wearing the same expression. "What's wrong?" she queried, as Damon set her down gingerly on her feet.
They now stood beside the central boulder in the circular formation of stones. The brothers exchanged weary glances. "Nothing," the blue-eyed vampire replied adamantly.
"Then let's do this," Bonnie responded, placing her right hand over the red crystal. "Hold onto me, boys."
The truth was, they had both felt the presence of mortals nearby as soon as they had begun to descend on the field. Whether they were Fior clansmen or a set of unsuspecting humans dillydallying through the countryside, they couldn't be certain.
Regardless of that, they needed to flee Ireland quickly. There was no point in making the green-eyed witch any more nervous than she already was before attempting such a powerful spell.
Stefan had Elena positioned between him and Bonnie so their bodies were touching. He pressed his palm against her shoulder, while Damon had one arm snaked possessively around her waist.
As awkward as their position appeared, they needed to maintain contact at all times throughout the incantation to be able to travel together simultaneously. Fiona had relayed as much when she discussed the ins and outs of portal use with the little witch.
It was difficult enough to maintain her composure knowing the monumental sacrifice the Irish woman had just made. In that fleeting moment, Bonnie had lost her mentor, Damon had lost an unlikely ally and Stefan had lost the only mother figure he had ever known.
Stifling a pained sob, Bonnie began to chant fervently. "Ó Elora, deontas linn sliocht sábháilte chuig an gceann scríbe a lorg againn. thiocfaidh muid duit go buan, caomhnóirí de go bhfuil tú covet chuid is mó. Tugaim duit an charm de The Ghost Prophetic."
A faint grumbling sounded beneath their feet, reminiscent of what they had heard before the ruins revealed themselves. Something fierce in magnitude churned beneath the surface.
Damon recalled the way each violet charge of energy had emerged from the surrounding stones, plummeting into the central boulder loudly. It was the sound of time and space shifting.
Bonnie kept her eyes shut, deeply immersed in the meaning of the incantation. It was a cry to Elora to grant them safe passage, using Tabitha's amulet as the key to take them there.
"Ó Elora, deontas linn sliocht sábháilte chuig an gceann scríbe a lorg againn. thiocfaidh muid duit go buan, caomhnóirí de go bhfuil tú covet chuid is mó. Tugaim duit an charm de The Ghost Prophetic."
The brothers stood transfixed by the amethyst beams streaming forth from the surrounding stones. They culminated above the central boulder in one massive whirlpool, swirling rapidly and emitting a sound so ferocious, it made Stefan and Damon feel as though their eardrums were being scraped with a sharp metal instrument.
"Hold on tight!" Bonnie commanded them.
They braced themselves for the impact of a potential magical explosion. Damon could still recall the way a burst of supernatural energy had rippled across the countryside, causing trees to flail backward like descending domino chips.
That's how it was the first time he and Bonnie had visited The Stone Circle. Who knew what it would be like when it actually transported people.
"Close your eyes!" the little witch shouted, as gusts of wind began to hammer them relentlessly.
This had to work. They needed to get home.
If what Fiona had mentioned to them about a storm "brewing" back in Mystic Falls, they needed to be there to stop it from reaching its full potential.
Eyes shut tightly, the gripped the witch more securely and planted their feet even deeper into the earth. Aeolus, the Greek wind God himself, must have been seriously pissed at them for the way he was treating them right now.
Bonnie's cheeks felt like they had been whipped by a leather strap to the point of drawing blood. She whimpered in pain before feeling an arm drawing her closer against his chest.
A female voice howled into the night. "Bhaile!"
Jarred by the stranger's command, they each opened their eyes and found themselves standing smack-dab at the center of a circle of trees – Virginia Elms, to be exact. They were home.
Maya McCullough awoke shrouded in darkness. She now had a bump the size of Texas protruding from the side of her head.
Rubbing the sore spot lightly, she groggily lifted her body from the bone chillingly cold ground. A small yelp escaped from her lips as the top of her head made contact with a barrier of some kind.
Reaching out to her sides, she felt the solid coolness of metal and knew at once, she had been caged by her captor. The last thing she could remember was glaring into those menacing blue eyes.
Then came the ferocious jolt of pain that rammed into her like an oncoming truck. Rufus McCullough was back and as ruthless as ever.
The foul stench of trash hung stubbornly in the air. Her sapphire eyes began to water as she clipped her nose to avoid the smell.
She allowed her fingers to slip through the tiny slots in the cage in order to feel around for something more telling about the place she was now trapped inside. All she could detect was the frigidity of cement in all directions around her.
Taking a deep breath, she squinted against the sudden glare of a light bulb flickering to life above her. He was back.
"Hello, baby sister." His voice slithered into her ears and sent a chill down her spine. "Enjoying the accommodations?"
She swivelled her neck from left to right. Still no sign of him. "I suppose if I were an animal, a cold steel cage might be a little more to my liking."
"Forgive me for not breaking out the fine china and 400 thread count sheets," he threw back casually. "You brought this on yourself, little one."
Her eyes widened as he slowly entered the room. A blue jumpsuit sheathed the lower half of his body and hung carelessly around his waist.
With his back turned to the fairy, he trailed a black comb through his damp mass of hair. "You just couldn't mind your own business, now could you?" he snorted.
"I told you never to come back," she replied through gritted teeth.
"Yes," he conceded with a chuckle. "I remember. You looked into my clear blue eyes and no matter what I had done, you just couldn't muster the balls the do away with me."
"Some of us don't do heartless son-of-a-bitch nearly as well as others,' she returned.
"Careful there," he responded, pointing an index finger in her direction. "This heartless son-of-a-bitch shares a mother with you. So I guess that makes you-"
"The right person to kick your ass," she interjected with renewed rage.
"Somehow that thread holds very little weight with you trapped inside a cage, my dear young one," he slyly returned.
"Why are you here?" she persisted.
"You know why."
"What do you want?"
"Tituba Bennett's little grandwitch," he sneered. "So young. So spirited. So...decidedly delectable. Too bad she has to die."
"You stay away from Bonnie!" the caged fairy shouted, gripping the steel firmly. "She's done nothing wrong."
"Yet." Dark wavy tendrils had begun to dry around Rufus's gaunt face. "That nasty little hybrid will never see the light of day. I will see to that."
"You don't even know her. How can you harbour so much hate for someone you've never even met?"
Clenching his jaw, his lips formed a thing, decisive line. "Nothing will ever be able to erase the memory of Emmeline from my brain. She died at the hands of a dirty warlock. Witches cause nothing but trouble wherever they go."
"Why don't you just stop calling yourself 'Rufus' and get your name legally changed to 'Ignorant and Clueless?'" Maya chucked at him with a sneer.
"Oh yes. Insults certainly will endear me to you even more," he sarcastically replied.
Maya looked around the room and saw bags of trash in one corner and tool kits in another. It seemed like a storage facility of some sort and judging by the worn down candlesticks, miniature cauldrons and scattered clothing, her brother had been seeking refuge here for a little while now.
"I never thought you'd stoop so low," she sighed.
"Hmmm?" he hummed, arranging tools along a wooden shelf before him.
"Joining The Glan. Really, Rufus? What do you think Emmeline would say about all of this?"
A wrench fell from his grasp, landing with a piercing clang on the cement floor. Instead of bending to retrieve it, the devious fairy began to lift the rest of his jumpsuit over his upper body.
"Well Emmeline can't say anything about this, now can she?"
"She wouldn't approve. She would-"
"Can she?" he bellowed, even angrier.
"She would hate the man that you've become!"
If he could shoot daggers with his eyes, Rufus McCullough would have stabbed his sister repeatedly with them. Turning swiftly, he bolted toward the cage and gripped her hands.
"Don't you dare say her name again, you bloody hybrid sympathizer!" he shouted ruthlessly. "I'm here to protect the purity of our kind. There need to be consequences for those who choose to procreate with other Supernaturals. It risks the balance in our world."
"Stop deluding yourself, Rufus," the rosy cheeked, plump woman groaned. "What balance is there in a world filled with only hate? If we were all the same, the world wouldn't be the extraordinary place that it is."
"Some extraordinary world you live in," he scoffed. "Need I remind you of the past? Oh yes, let's see. Father's best friend was a Were. He betrayed him and practically stole his business right out from under him. Mother was killed by a drunk driver – who just happened to be a witch. And the vampires – if they hadn't been so blood thirsty during 1864, The Cleanse would never have come to pass. The mortals would have believed those little tales we weaved about 'animal attacks.'"
"I highly doubt they were singlehandedly responsible for The Cleanse," she replied. "Supernaturals were warring – with one another, might I add. See how far we get when we're at each other's throats?" she returned.
"We don't get much more when we're not."
Rolling her eyes, she sighed deeply. "Those instances you described – they hardly make for a convincing argument. That driver just happened to be a witch. And-and dad's best friend just happened to be a Were," she stammered. "They could have just as easily wound up being Fairies. Then what? Would you fight with yourself?"
"The point is that they weren't. You'd see things my way if you had just come to Brighton with me."
"To congregate with The Glan?" Maya queried, watching him incredulously. "I don't think so."
Rufus was at real low point when Sebastian Kral, the notorious leader of The Glan, had come into his life. That was usually how evil, sadistic men wormed their way into the lives of once good men.
"Where are we anyway?" the blond fairy asked, studying the exposed brick walls and a metal plaque on the wall with blue writing that read 'Waste Storage Facility.' "You know, it's only a matter of time 'til someone realizes I'm missing."
"Perhaps your lesbian lover, Tituba will come and save you," he joked distastefully.
"It's called a 'friendship,'" she corrected him, a stern look in her eyes. "You should try it out some time. Might help alleviate your emotional woes."
"My emotional woes?" he repeated with a sinister laugh.
"I take it that permanent scowl you wear is a direct by product of them," she chucked in.
"No. That's just a natural response to being back here in this dump of a town,' he retorted.
"So leave."
"No. I think not," Rufus responded. "Besides, I've already injected you with reverse tracking serum. The old witch can scribe all she wants, but you won't register on her radar."
"Yes, but potions eventually wear off," she pointed out.
"That's right. I'm speaking to the brew master, herself. Then I guess you should probably take into account the fact that this potion wears off in about a year. A lot can happen in such a considerable span of time," he whispered.
Slowly, a maniacal grin spread from cheek to cheek on the dark haired man's face. He straightened out his jumpsuit and rose to a standing position.
Maya instantly caught sight of the name tag over the left side of his chest. A. Greenwood – Janitorial Staff, Robert E. Lee High School
"No," Maya gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. "Please Rufus. Leave her alone. She's just a-"
The sound of a female groaning in pain stopped her from finishing her sentence. She watched as her brother casually sauntered toward a table, sheathed by black cloth.
He lifted it with one swift movement and jumped playfully to the side. "Oh yes. I forgot to mention this earlier. I found you a roomie."
Sherriff Elizabeth Forbes lay on the floor of another cage with her eyes shut and her head in her hands. Though she emitted all the sounds of a woman in agony, Maya could tell she wouldn't be regaining consciousness anytime soon.
"You injected her with sleeping serum, didn't you?" she questioned him, a look of outrage on her face.
"I would say she'll sleep like the dead...but I haven't given her nearly enough for that," he smirked.
"Thank God," she breathed.
"Yet."
Rubbing the side of her head, Maya allowed her gaze to linger on the gash that had begun to clot at the back of Elizabeth Forbes's head. "Let her go. She isn't a part of this," the fairy pleaded.
"She was on to you, baby sister." He watched as a strained expression formed on her childlike face. "Let's not pretend you really care about her. Not to mention... The Council is back in order."
Her eyes widened. "How do you know?"
"Sharp investigative skills. Really, I should be a P.I.," he cockily replied.
"Why haven't you killed her yet? Isn't that...your thing?" she questioned him, a disgusted look on her face.
"More often than not, yes. But I've got big plans for Lizzie Forbes."
"Like what?"
He moved back and forth before her eyes before grinning devilishly. "Just wait and see."
Glaring at his janitorial garb, she silently scolded Principal Williamson for being so irresponsible when it came to conducting thorough employee background checks. How on earth could he hire Rufus?
"How long have you been here?" she inquired, her eyes never leaving the blue and white nametag.
"A little while now," he answered simply, pretending to dust off his shoulder.
"And yet...Bonnie is still alive?" Her brother was a merciless sod. If he wanted Bonnie dead, he would do everything in his power to make certain that happened.
"Well I seem to have encountered a little problem. Bonnie hasn't been to school in several days," he lamented, while pinching his chin reflectively with his thumb and index finger. "Know anything about that, My?"
"No," she lied.
"Not to worry. I'll find her soon enough. And when I do, not even that fanged protector of hers will be able to stop me."
Stefan watched as the color returned to Elena's face. Her warm lips had created a vacuum seal on his wrist where just moments before, he had gnawed at his own flesh in order to feed her.
They were back at the Boarding House now and in his room. She lay on the cream-colored sheets, craning her neck forward and moaning as his life force trickled down her oesophagus.
The word that had been so painfully etched into her forehead began to diminish. "Duine." He would never forget it.
She fervently lapped up every drop that emerged with her tongue. The lithe brunette was ravenous for him – and him for her.
Her body arched toward him, trying desperately to gain better access to the wound. At first, the taste had been salty and metallic; now it was sweet and addictive.
The hazel-eyed vampire groaned in both pain and pleasure as he felt her suckle with great intensity on the opening. Her chocolate brown eyes were full of life again.
Carefully breaking her hold on his arm, he urged her to stop drinking. There was more than enough vampire blood flowing through her veins now for him to sire her if he pleased.
The thought of an eternity with Elena Gilbert by his side was more than just a little tempting to him. He desired her – mind, body and soul.
He just couldn't deny her the chance to live life to the fullest extent. While it was true that she would age and he would not, nothing could ever change the way he felt about her.
Framing her face with his hands, he nuzzled her nose and pressed his lips tenderly against hers. "You did great, baby," Stefan whispered gently.
Hot tears began to cascade down her cheeks. Her ordeal with The Fior had frightened her more than anything else had in her life.
She wanted to be strong. She wanted to feel something other than helpless or only human.
Besides, Stefan couldn't be her bodyguard twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Even as she tugged at the collar of his green plaid shirt and kissed him fervently, she knew this.
His fingers were intertwined in her chocolate locks as he whispered tender words against her lips. He could taste the saltiness of her tears as they trickled down her flushed cheeks.
The death of Fiona Reid had only served to reinforce the fragility of life. One second, the person you love could be standing before you; the next, they could be plucked from your arms and never returned.
The thought of losing Elena was too much to bear. Tugging her closer until they were chest to chest, he reluctantly broke the kiss. "Nothing," he breathed raggedly. "Nothing will change this. I will love you 'til the end."
Cupping his face with the palms of her hands, she pressed her lips sweetly against his. A solitary tear had cascaded down his cheek and landed on her index finger.
"I will love you with my last breath," she declared with great intensity.
They made love that night four times. Perhaps it was the fright of almost losing one another or the longing for a lover you haven't seen in far too long.
Whatever it was, Stefan and Elena moved with such urgency and passion. Then, as the brown eyed mortal felt herself nearing the peak of ecstasy, she tilted her neck to one side and permitted him to drink from her.
"Are you sure?" he wondered aloud, eyebrows furrowed with concern.
"I've never been so sure of anything else in my life," she beamed up at him.
With that, he plunged his canines into her pale pliant flesh and drank.
Bonnie sat inside the porcelain claw foot tub as naked as the day she was born. The scent of sweet figs and lavender from the bubbles filled her nostrils.
She needed this. Just one moment to remind her that she could experience some normalcy.
She was physically drained and emotionally distraught. Fiona was no longer a part of their world; she had made the ultimate sacrifice.
With her death, the Bellwain bloodline had come to an end. Bonnie had already shed countless tears on the way back to town; now she was just numb.
She was just glad not to be alone. Now, more than ever before, she needed someone to lean on.
He just happened to be outside the bathroom door right now.
Damon, she thought. He had been doing everything in his power to make her smile or laugh. If he wasn't making one of his witty irreverent quips, he was saying something horribly inappropriate just to keep her from wallowing in despair.
She found it rather touching – heart warming, really. He genuinely seemed to care for her.
Their first night together remained etched in her memory. She could still recall the way his sinewy, masculine frame had convulsed against her pliant, feminine physique. It was that delicious moment – when they came together.
He had been unexpectedly tender – the kind of lover she would have expected Stefan to be. Speak of the devil, she thought, hearing three knocks on the oak door.
"What's goin' on in there, beautiful?" she heard Damon utter from the other side. "Trying to figure out the meaning of life on the john?" he joked.
Typical guy thing to say. "No. I'm in the tub," she replied.
"Naked?" he asked with a particularly boyish tone to his voice.
"No Damon. I decided to jump in with all my clothes on," she beamed, knowing full well his dirty mind was heading even further south as they spoke.
"Well that's no fun," he whined playfully. "Young lady, how do you expect to get fully clean if you don't take off all your clothes?"
"I dunno," she breathily replied, biting down on her lower lip. "Guess I don't mind being a little...dirty." Score one for me.
"Ugh," he groaned, hammering a fist against the door. "Why are you so mean to me?"
"Because I can," she offered sweetly.
"Is that so?" he inquired, feeling supremely turned on by her teasing behavior.
"Mmmhmm," she answered simply. With a reluctant sigh, Bonnie began to rise from the tub and scanned the metal rack for her cream colored towel.
"Seriously though, you decent yet?" Damon inquired, leaning casually against the doorframe, a Cheshire Cat-like grin stretching sinisterly from cheek to cheek.
"Not quite," she hollered, trying to secure the fabric around her svelte figure.
Her hands fumbled as the door swung open rapidly, bringing a cold swoosh of air into the room. Damon stood before her, devastatingly sex, damn smug and without a shirt on his beautifully carved chest.
Bonnie breathed a sigh of relief because the fabric had managed to stay fastened around her physique somehow. "You know, that wasn't exactly an invitation," she hotly replied, feeling his arms encircle her tiny waist.
They now stood before a full length oval mirror. Damon swiped his right hand repetitively across the fogged up surface until they could both gleam their reflections again.
"You said you weren't decent," he reminded her. "To me, that sounded like a promising scenario."
Winking at her in the mirror, he watched as she licked her lips in anticipation. Her own gaze was fixed hungrily on his mouth. That pleased him to no end.
Damon rewarded her with a trail of soft kisses along her shoulder. He felt her shudder against him as his cold fingertips tilted her chin up so they were now observing one another intently.
He pressed his lips lingeringly against hers and swallowed the excited moan that emanated from her throat. This was his opportunity to strip the witch of her defences – and clothing.
He tugged at the towel with such force that it dropped to the floor within a single second. "Mmm," he remarked, taking a step back to observe every inch of her naked physique. "Delicious."
Bonnie glared at him in partial disbelief. "Bet you say that to all the other girls."
"Maybe," he admitted with a smirk, twirling a lock of her dark hair around his index finger. "But this time I mean it."
"Is that a fact?" she questioned him with her hands braced defiantly on her unsheathed hips. "Does that mean I've actually succeeded in making an honest man out of you?"
Hauling her roughly against his chiselled chest, her whispered into her left ear. "I'll answer your question if you answer mine."
"Alright," she replied, feeling his arms tighten around her waist. "But first you might wanna loosen up that grip. A girl's gotta breathe."
"Among other things," he offered seductively, nibbling lightly on her delicate earlobe.
She felt enraptured as he quickly spun her around again so their bodies were facing the mirror. His right hand had managed to slither up her thigh, now wreaking havoc on her senses as his fingers titillated the sensitive nerves between her thighs.
"Bonnie," he whispered in a sing-song voice.
"Ah..." It was all she could muster as his thumb and index finger mischievously pinched the nub inside of her, so wet and aroused by the way their bodies were fused together right now.
"Do you...like to watch?" he queried, shifting his attention to her heaving breasts.
His eyes wandered ravenously over the dark aureoles and the way her nipples had hardened with his touch. Bonnie tugged harshly on his midnight locks as his fingers began to tease and fondle each mound of flesh.
"Damon," she breathed raggedly, feeling his stiff cock brushing against her derriere.
His fingers moved deeper inside of her, thrusting in and out until she felt like her knees would buckle. "You never answered my question," he smoothly exclaimed, tracing circles around her navel with his free hand.
"Ah...I...Damon..." Nothing made a single shred of sense. Her thoughts were fuzzy, like a swirl of naughty and forbidden all in one.
His throaty laughter filled the small room. Damon leaned in and began to nibble tauntingly on her earlobe. "I'll take that 'ah...I...Damon' as a 'Yes baby. It really turns me on.'"
His eyes were alight with mischief. She wanted to slap him for his smugness and ravish him for his ability to make her feel like a wanton sex goddess at the drop of a dime.
Turning her in his arms, she sighed exasperatedly as his fingers retreated from her moist core. "Don't worry," he soothed. "I always finish what I start."
With those final words of reassurance, Bonnie felt herself hoisted up until her legs were locked securely around his body. Damon had her back pressed against the marble tiled wall, still fully visible in the large mirror.
His dark wash jeans were already down to his knees. Bonnie whimpered into his ear at the precise moment his moist shaft entered her.
His cool lips trailed down her neck to the valley between her breasts. Devouring one tumescent nipple, he flicked his tongue over it repeatedly until her back arched more fully against him.
Bonnie observed the way his forearms flexed in the mirror, as held their bodies together. It felt so sinful and yet so right being here like this.
Damon ground his hips against hers and felt a sensation rip right through him. It was raw and fraught with need. She was everything he wanted and he would show her with every determined thrust and each all-consuming kiss.
"Don't stop," she moaned breathlessly. "Don't stop. Don't. Ever. Stop."
Damon did as he was told – quite happily.
His plundered her lips mercilessly with his own, as their bodies moved rhythmically together. The sound of her heartbeat accelerating with each passing moment filled his ears like some masterful symphony.
She began to tighten around his throbbing erection. Damon couldn't wait anymore. He needed to have her. Needed to feel her shudder violently against him.
Plunging into her with greater intensity, he heard her cry out in wild abandon. She pulled him closer with her arms and nuzzled his neck.
Damon placed slow, gentle kisses along her shoulder. For once in his existence, he knew what love felt like. It felt like Bonnie.
Pressing his lips against her forehead, the sapphire-eyed vampire gathered his little witch in his arms and placed her on his black iron-framed bed. He tugged the charcoal silk sheets up until their bodies were fully sheathed.
With her back pressed against his chest, Damon held her in place with his arms and waited until she fell into deep slumber. Only then could he tell her what he had come to realize and accept in the last 24 hours.
"Isn't this a strange turn of events?" he whispered with a slight chuckle. "You and me."
He inhaled her fragrance deeply. "Guess it kind of freaked me out at first. Actually, I think it might freak you out a little more if I say this to you when you're awake...so I'm saying it to you now."
He gulped aloud. "I'm in love with you."
