chapter 6
The sky was inky black, free of clouds, and it served as the perfect backdrop to the full moon shining brightly above the cemetery.
Elena shivered involuntarily.
Simply gazing at the orb of night, for some inescapable reason, caused an outbreak of goose bumps to cover her arms.
Something about the moon was ominous; unforgiving. Even as she leaned against the mausoleum, eyes traced to the darkening sky, she felt as if the moon were more symbolic than it had ever been.
A series of deep, resounding howls filled the silence, and Elena's heart skipped a few beats. She looked out into the distance, but saw nothing out of place. It crossed her mind that she was either delusional or just crazy.
Get a grip, she told herself.
The air felt supercharged. She wanted to move towards the fence bordering the side of the cemetery, but her feet were cemented in place. She suddenly felt like a coward, no longer heroic or strong but just a normal human girl with fears and weaknesses.
Another series of howls ripped through the air. The fog continued to roll in, reducing her visibility to no more than a hand in front of her face. And as much as she could tolerate vampires and all kinds of creatures, she didn't think she could hold a candle to a pack of wolves.
Maybe I should find Damon, she thought nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead.
The rustling in the woods was growing louder; the animals were closing in. As much as she wanted to wait for Mr. Saltzman like Damon ordered, she found she was unable to comply with his desires.
Sorry Damon.
The apology repeated in her head as she turned around, pushing the door open so she had enough room to slip through.
Elena hesitantly entered the mausoleum. The hair on her arms rose stiffly in the cool, damp air. She rubbed her hands over her arms in a fruitless attempt to warm them. Taking a deep breath, she resumed walking.
Her footsteps echoed off the stone floor and bounced around the walls. The sound turned into a constant tattoo of click-click-click-click. Suddenly, there was a disruption in the pattern. A chill went down her spine as she heard a sickening snapping sound underneath her feet. She opened her cell phone and directed the light towards the floor.
A shriek was caught in her throat.
The sight before her was unnatural.
Carcasses of dead rodents and other small animals littered the ground by the hundreds. The stages of decomposition ranged from freshly deceased to skeletal remains. It was hard to keep down the contents of her stomach, especially when she noticed the rat skull around her shoes. She shook her feet to remove the fragments.
Distressed, she hugged her frame into a compact form and slowly slinked down the hallway. Her eyes darted cautiously around the floor—even more aware of where the remains lie.
When she finally reached the interior of the tomb, she lets out a staggered breath. She made it.
The walls were lined with stone tablets engraved with names too worn away to be read. She realized quickly that Jeremy couldn't be hiding in one of the crypts - the stones were too large and heavy for a single person to remove. Standing in place with her arms akimbo, she scanned the room for any additional places Jeremy could hide.
But the dim light emitting from the cell phone proved to be more of a hindrance than anything. She pressed a hand against the wall, touching wet, slimy rock. The feeling sent a shiver through her body and she jumped away, her cell phone slipping from between her fingers.
Instantly she was bathed in pitch black. She dropped to her knees, her hands running across the dirt in a desperate attempt to find her phone; she touched rocks, bones, and crumpling leaves before grasping onto her phone. Elena pushed a button. Nothing happened. With a frown, she touched the screen.
A feeling of dread hit her all at once.
Was this really happening?
"Damon?" She called out, her words echoing throughout the crypt as she blindly stumbled to her feet. Elena tripped and stumbled again, but managed to keep her balance. And she wished, no prayed, that she could be blessed with perfect night vision to navigate the dark.
The sound of shuffling caught her attention in a moment. She spun around, her silky brown locks whipping through the air. Desperately, she squinted as if it'd help. It didn't.
"Hello?" She tried again, uncertainty clinging to her words. "Is anyone there?"
All she heard was deafening, eerie silence. Something was wrong. She could feel the difference in the air, and her heart pounded uncontrollably. Maybe calling out wasn't the best idea because she was bringing attention to herself, but Elena wasn't the Cowardly Lion.
She took a step to the right. Her hand brushed against the rocky walls. All at once, an idea hit her. She could use the rocks as a guide and retrace her steps. Elena almost let out a cry of joy. At least I can still think under pressure,she thought.
Her hand skittered along the rocks. They would lead her towards safety and hopefully light.
There was no knowing how long it would take her to navigate the crypt. On the inside, it was much larger than she could imagine. And without light, it was too easy to get lost and never be found again. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take.
Elena had to be smart, on top of her game. More than that, she needed to ignore the faint reverberation of footsteps that followed her.
If someone was in the tomb, they probably knew she was in there too.
Another step forward and she walked into a thick cobweb. Coughing and sputtering, she swiped into the blindness, her fingers brushing against cold skin. Instinctively, she pulled her hand away but was stopped. The person, who she figured was male from the rough texture of the hand, had a tight grip on her.
A cold sensation went through her body. What if this person was a remaining vampire from the tomb? Her heart beat wildly in sheer panic; if this wasn't Damon, she was in trouble.
"Who are you?" she whispered. Her voice reverberated throughout the crypt, repeating the question, but even as the echoing faded, she was met by silence. No response.
"Please, whoever you are, let me go," she pleaded.
Afraid for her life, she started to thrash around madly, her flailing limbs connecting with flesh and bone. Her sudden attack caught the person by surprise. Elena was released in an instant, and she slammed into the wall as she struggled to regain her balance. Heart pounding madly, she didn't dare to spare a look behind her. Instead, she began running blindly through the dark, praying that she wouldn't stumble across the piles of debris.
Her escape lasted only for a few seconds before she was pulled backwards. She opened her mouth to scream but a rough, cool hand covered her mouth. Trapped.
"Wait," a male voice said.
She recognized the tone.
Damon grabbed her hand, his fingers pushing into her pressure points.
"Elena." He sighed heavily, pulling her towards a dim light at the end of the crypt. "I thought I told you to wait outside."
She could visualize the stony, disappointed look he was wearing. It was his lecturing face, and she wasn't in the mood for him to play the authority figure.
"I couldn't."
"I figured you would be difficult," was his offhanded remark. "But really, Elena, your moments of bravery are starting to be outweighed by your moments of stupidity."
Elena crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. "I heard wolves. They were getting closer. It seemed smarter to be in here, Damon," she shot back.
"Alwaysexcuses," he mocked, shaking his head. A few strands of hair fell into his eyes. "I should have handcuffed you to Ric. You always have to be in the center of danger, don't you?"
"No!" She exclaimed, anger seeping into her voice. "And you didn't have to scare the hell out of me back there. I thought I was going to die." Fire blazed in her eyes, and she prepared herself for round two, but the profane words were trapped on the tip of her tongue.
"Good. You should be scared, 'Lena. I warnedyou time and time again that you're not invincible. You're just human. So, would you get it through your thick skull that I'm only trying to look out for you? But, I can't do that if you decide to act on every one of your impulses."
"But there were wolves."
"I swear, you've lived in this town all your life and you're just realizing that wolves are here now? What the hell are they teaching kids these days at school?" He mused. "I guess I have to get on dear Ric about that, now won't I?"
Elena shot him a dark look. "Really, Damon? You want to be sarcastic at a time like this."
"Less criticizing and flapping of the gums. More walking."
He shooed her forward like a fly, and for the life of her, Elena didn't know what compelled her to obey him or why she cracked the slightest of smiles.
XOXO
They wandered through a maze of crumbling, deteriorating rooms and chambers that led deeper and deeper into the earth. Elena swore it was nearly impossible for so many rooms to exist in a small crypt, but as she was beginning to notice, nothing about it was ordinary.
A thought formed in the back of her mind - what if they weren't supposed to be down here?
She pushed that thought away and tried to focus on their current situation. The more that she worried, the less chance she would be able to think clearly. Although she couldn't see Damon, she still looked over at him.
"Do you think Jeremy is in here somewhere?" She asked quietly.
The walls were becoming narrower and the ceilings lower as they continued down cracked marble staircases that were designed in a spiral. Along the stairs were very small chambers, no bigger than a standard closet and they were filled with decaying, wooden boxes and other random objects. Elena couldn't get beyond how out of place everything was in this crypt.
Damon's hand tensed in hers as they stopped on a small landing for a break. A rat skittered in front of them, its long spindly tail sliding along the floor.
Out of the corner of his eye, Damon saw Elena flinch. A weakness. It surprised him that she was terrified of something so small, but yet she was so brave around vampires. To Damon, he couldn't understand Elena Gilbert.
She was an enigma, clearing proving that she was a million times more complicated than any human he ever encountered in over a century.
"I'm not sure. Let me take advantage of my bat radar, and I'll get right back to you."
"You're such an ass," Elena retorted. "Can't you just try? Maybe humor me a little?"
For a nanosecond, Damon felt the smallest twinge of guilt as her voice raised an octave and cracked. But there wasn't any room for sympathy or guilt, he realized.
"Elena, I'm doing my best," he explained, frustration rippling through his words. "I'd like to see you tap into your Spidey senses and find him yourself."
"Maybe I will," she snapped, ripping the black maglight from his light hold. "I'll lead the way, following the tingles and all..."
Damon threw up his hand in silent surrender. Her leading was probably a bad idea, but his patience was far too thin to do anything but humor her. If she wanted to play the fearless hero, he wasn't going to deny her the title.
"Aww, how cute," he cooed. "I'm rubbing off on you." He grinned, smiling widely and gesturing to himself.
"I think you're too full of yourself Damon," she snapped, her tone icy cold.
"Oh I am, darling. But you love me for it anyway."
She rolled her eyes. "Do you even care about anything? Because this isn't a joke to me. We're in an underground crypt, Damon. I feel like we're in the tomb all over again and I'm scared..."
He tilted his head to the side. Reaching out, his hands gently stopped her. When she was like this, so overcharged with emotion and feeling, it got to a part a him, a part that he wasn't comfortable exposing.
"Don't worry," he joked. "There's no Katherine down here, 'Lena. I'm not going anywhere."
But the joking and smiles weren't enough for Elena. She knew this was Damon-fighting what he felt deep down. He cared about her. They were friends, and no matter how much he joked and insulted, she knew it was just a facade because Damon Salvatore didn't want to be seen as weak. Or human.
"I don't know if I can trust those words."
"You shouldn't," was his quick, cold response. "Don't trust a monster. You know I'm not Stefan."
You know I'm not Stefanwere the words that bounced painfully through her mind. What she liked most about the Salvatore brothers was how different they were; night and day. Each had their own sets of values, standards, and rules.
And she wasn't good to lie. As far as vampires were concerned, Stefan was as good and honorable as they got, but defining Damon as a monster wasn't possible. Who else would put their life on hold for 145 years for the love of their life? Damon clearly wasn't evil. When he loved, he loved deeply, and she admired that about him.
Love mattered.
Humanity mattered.
Living mattered.
As much as Damon was trying to fish for the comments that would make him feel secure, Elena wasn't willing to play his game. He wasn't a monster. And she wouldn't tell him what he wanted to hear. That wasn't the kind of person she was, and she desperately hoped he'd someday understand that.
"I'm glad you're not Stefan," was her delayed, quiet response. "And whether you want to hear it or not, I trust you. I'll take off my vervain necklace a thousand times until you realize it."
Damon's response was exactly the way it was supposed to be.
"Mmhmm. That's real smart, Elena."
Angry, Elena stopped. No longer in the mood to humor him, she reached behind her neck, her fingers touching the clasp.
"Don't," Damon warned, his face inches from hers. "Now isn't the time to be reckless or stupid. What if I'm not the only vampire down here? I sincerely doubt you want to go down the compulsion road, but to each their own I guess."
The fiery look in his eyes died as she dropped her hands to her side. Damon was obviously in a mood. He wasn't as carefree and light as usual, and it bothered her. Because Damon was most protective and cruel when he had something to lose.
Is he worried about Stefan? She wondered, head spinning with thousands of ideas and explanations, but nothing made concrete sense.
"Damon, you and I both know that the only way you'll fully trust me is for me to trust you first."
"Mmhmm. Whatever you say, Elena."
Stalemate.
It was easy to keep talking and calling him out, but he wasn't budging.
She ran a weary hand across her face. "Fine, I like the silence better, anyway."
Anger propelled her forward, easily getting ahead of Damon. It was hard to look in front of her and watch the ground at the same time. For a split second, she thought it would've been smarter for Damon to lead, for him to make good use of his senses. But if he was going to be moody, she preferred to keep her distance.
"You might want to slow down," Damon's voice chimed in. There was a trace of warning and something else. Maybe genuine worry? Whatever it was, it caught her off guard, and against her better judgment, she slowed down.
Shining the light to the left, she saw the reason. The staircase suddenly stopped and the ground leveled out.
Damon's eyes swept across the darkness, trying to feel out the unfamiliar area while Elena stood idle and quiet.
The ceiling was low; the top of his head brushed against it. Cobwebs were probably trapped in his hair, and the thought alone made him wince. Damon was willing to get down and dirty, but not like this. Not under these circumstances.
The night was too much of a wild goose chase. A faulty machine, probably rigged by the sheriff, was meant to lure them in the wrong direction. He wouldn't be the first to admit that something about this felt horribly wrong and planned.
Damon clenched his fists. He was being too good, too human. He had to lose the nice act because it wasn't the real him. The real Damon was selfish and arrogant. And he sure as hell didn't wander through a secret path of tunnels beneath a crypt to benefit someone else—especially an arrogant, bratty teen that needed to learn his place.
But it was too coincidental. If no one knew of the crypt besides Elena and Jeremy, it ruled out his theory about the sheriff. And that was a real pity. Damon wanted someone to blame, and she had been the perfect candidate.
"It smells like mold," Damon muttered, wrinkling his nose. The scent permeated from the floors and the walls. Pretty much everywhere. "Give me the flashlight," he ordered, pulling it out of her grip before she could object. He flashed the light to the ceiling and let out a low growl. Most of it was covered in a thick layer of mold. "I don't think this is safe, Elena. Maybe you should go back upstairs..."
"And get lost?" She cut in. "No offense Damon, but I'd rather stay right where I am."
"Always trying to make things difficult," he bit out, shaking his head. "But since you're persistent to stay, you might want to know that we've reached the verybottom."
"How do you know?"
Damon focused the light above Elena's head - just enough that he could see her expression. "We're in a pool of water," he deadpanned, looking down at his feet where he stood in nearly an inch of stagnant, murky water.
Damon swore under his breath.
He was ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes for Jeremy Gilbert.
What the hell was wrong with him?
"You sound disgusted," Elena said. "You're not afraid of water?"
"No," he snapped. "But I am opposed to ruining a perfectly new pair of Ferragamo's. They're Italian leather, Elena. These kinds of things come with a hefty price tag. But I don't expect you to know anything about money. Contrary to what you may think, I worked over the years for what I have. I don't have a vast empire. I didn't create Google, either. So excuse me if I want to indulge myself and wear something flashy and expensive."
She sighed. "Why are we even talking about fashion right know? Shouldn't we be looking for Jeremy?"
He detected the weariness in her tone in an instant; he wasn't about to apologize for being a little materialistic. So what if he liked to wear designer clothing and accessories? He could do whatever he wanted, and Damon swore he wasn't about to cave at her puppy dog eyes.
"Jeremy's going to be my slave after this. Mark my words, Elena. He owesme."
"Owes you?"
Damon swatted the air. "A story for another day."
Elena hesitantly stepped into the water. She could feel it seep through the bottom of her shoes and wet her socks, but she was more worried about her brother; she walked towards another room where the archway was so low that she had to bend forward. Cobwebs clung to her hair and face. She blindly batted at the webs and flashed the light across the pitch black room.
It was no larger than the size of a closet, and Damon frowned. His arm brushed against Elena as he pushed ahead, walking towards the far corner of the room.
"I found a t-shirt," Damon blurted coolly, bending to his knees and picking up the shredded garment. A flicker of emotions passed through him, and he stumbled to keep them at bay. They were unwanted, unnecessary. It was the kind of hindrance he didn't need...goddamn humanity. "It's covered in blood."
"Blood?" Elena echoed. "Human or..."
He brought the shirt up to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Human, but I wouldn't sigh in relief. Whoever wore this was attacked by something sharp, something with claws."
"A vampire could do that right?" Elena trembled and gripped the wall with her hand. It give her extra support when she felt as if her legs were going to cave beneath her. Damon hadn't said whether it was Jeremy's shirt or not. His lack of confirmation had her fearing the worst: death or dying.
"Just stay close," he hissed and grabbed her arm. "This is notthe time to disobey me again."
Damon smiled grimly. It sounded like a conversation he was always having with Elena. He told her to do one thing, but she did the other. And there was no knowing what it'd take to get the severity of the danger through her thick head.
As they exited the room, they entered a larger chamber - one that was full of broken crates, warped wood pieces, and a small fire burning at the center of the room. Someone or something was taking residence in the deepest, darkest area of the mausoleum.
The stench of mold grew, clinging onto Damon's senses. Dirty water trickled in through the heavy, jagged cracks in the concrete structure. It was obviously the direct cause of the mold infestation, and nothing human could survive this long in these conditions without the mold becoming toxic and lethal.
Damon's heart hammered in his chest.
There was a strong possibility that if they ever found Jeremy, the window of finding him alive was rapidly closing or already sealed tight.
"What do we do?" Elena whispered.
His hands steadied her shaking shoulders. "We keep moving. It's too dangerous to stay down here. Maybe, now might be the time for me to tell you that I don't think your brother is too morbid and angsty enough to spend his time this far down."
"I think it's clear that we shouldn't underestimate him, Damon," Elena warned softly. "He loved Anna even more than Vicki. Nothingis impossible when love factors in."
Damon whipped around to face her, his eyes swirling heavily with doubt and confusion. He enjoyed conversations with Elena because they weren't conventional. They were interesting, thrilling even, but he wasn't about to let things get philosophical.
This wasn't an episode of Dr. Phil.
"I hope you know how ridiculous you sound. I'm almostheartless enough to mock you for it."
"Then, why don't you?"
"'Lena, 'Lena. You needto stop with the petulant-child act. If I didn't know better, I'd say you like hearing the sound of my voice," he teased. "If you reallywant me to talk, just ask." He waggled his eyebrows in the dark - knowing full well that she couldn't see his face. "I can think of much, much more stimulating conversation."
Unable to control herself, her cheeks burned red. Maybe, after all, she had underestimated him. He was smiling and cracking jokes, but Elena knew better. It was a facade, a way to hide how he was really feeling.
He wasn't intentionally being an ass. She refused to believe it.
"Cat got your tongue?" He grinned, guiding her around another corner.
A blur of motion streaked by him - fast enough that he barely caught it out of the corner of his eyes. The smile disappeared from his face as he grabbed Elena, pulling her behind him, against a flat, wet wall.
He extended his fangs and hissed into the darkness.
"I know you're here, and I'm not really feeling patient tonight. Stop lurking in the shadows like a coward," Damon's voice rang out.
"I'm not a coward you dickhead," the voice snapped, slowly stepping out from within the darkness of the corner.
Elena's eyes grew wide. She sucked in a sharp breath, choking on her saliva in the process.
"Jeremy?" She rasped.
Covered in blood and soot, he smiled, showing his blood stained teeth.
"Hey sis."
Damon tugged Elena backwards, flush against his body, as she attempted to move towards her brother. The flashlight slipped between her fingers, clanging loudly to the ground. It rolled across the floor until it came to an abrupt stop, the beam of light shining directly onto Jeremy. He was shirtless with deep, red gashes covering his front.
"Don't," Damon snapped, his blue eyes never leaving Jeremy's dark ones.
She struggled in his iron hold. "He's not a vampire," she insisted, her voice breaking. "I knowhe's not. Let me go!"
Damon's cool cheek touched hers. "Listen because I'm only going to tell you once. I'm not batman. I'm not a goddamn superhero, 'Lena. And I'm sure as hell not a machine. I can't always rely on my vampire senses because they're not always accurate. And I'm notcertain about your brother's fate, so do me a favor? Chill out."
Moisture pooled in her eyes. "He's nota vampire."
"Be as stubborn and annoying as you want, but I'm not sure what Jeremy is. End of discussion."
"Why don't you ask me, jackass?" Jeremy snapped, narrowing his bloodshot eyes at the two. "I dareyou."
"Come on, Jer. Don't taunt Damon. You know him."
Jeremy's blood-stained smiled widened. "Exactly, sis. Why do you keep hanging out with him? Where's Stefan?"
Damon swore under his breath. It never failed that Stefan was brought into the equation. What the hell was everyone's fascination with his brother? He was too damn boring, didn't know how to lighten up, and was incapable of making any friends.
"Stefan isn't the concern, Jeremy," Damon muttered coldly. "You ran away from home and hid in an underground crypt. What the hell were you thinking?"
"Vampires love dark places. This seemed fitting."
Elena paled. "Why did you drink Anna's blood?"
Jeremy snarled. "Don't say her name!"
"I know exactly why." Damon eyed the angsty teen hatefully. "He wanted to die. He wanted a world where he didn't have to lose a family, but he also wanted a world where he didn't have to feel. Am I close?"
"Don't think your little speech made me forgive me. Your little forgetting trick screwed me up more than you can imagine…"
"What speech?" Elena eyed Damon curiously. "Am I missing something?"
"It's a story for another day."
"Wait," Elena breathed out slowly, the truth suddenly dawning on her. "Was Jeremy your failed and feeble attempt at doing the right thing?"
"He told me he watched Anna die in the fire." Jeremy seethed. "He deserves to die. I don't care if you were weakened by vervain, but you shouldn't have let her die."
The words were a heavy, concrete slab on Damon's mind. "You're right," he admitted. "I should have gone against Pearl, eradicated those damn vampires, and been aware of Jonathan Gilbert's grand scheme, and even predicted Bonnie's betrayal. Protecting doesn't come naturally to me, but I meant what I said that night. I wantedto help Anna."
"You didn't, and I'll always hate you for that."
"It's first love, Jer. You'll get over it." Elena's calm words were soothing and believable. Damon was always amazed at how well she kept things together.
"Shut up, Elena and go to hell. You're the reason that asshole compelled me in the first place, so don't expect any sympathy from me because I stillcan't look at you."
"Don't," she whispered, taking a tentative step forward with watery eyes.
"Elena," Damon warned, his hand lightly touching her shoulder. "He's unstable. He's delusional. He thinks he's dead."
"He's my brother. Regardless of what he is, he wouldn't hurt me."
"Don't..." Damon protested, but his words fell on deaf ears as Jeremy growled.
He bent his knees and charged forward, his body slamming hard into Elena's. She stumbled backwards from the force of the blow, quickly losing her balance. The back of her shoes slid against the slimy floor and she fell to the ground. Her head bounced against the pavement with a sickening crack.
Damon flew across the room, twisting Jeremy's hands behind his back and securing them with the sheriff's spare handcuffs. Maybe befriending Liz hadn't been the worst idea-especially when he had a penchant for snooping and taking things that didn't belong to him.
Angry, Damon snarled and shoved Jeremy to the floor. "Don't move, asshole. You're nota vampire and you nearly killed your sister. Seriously. I thought I was maniacal for a vampire, but that doesn't hold a handle to how much of a bastard you are right now."
Fear clung to Damon as he flew across the room, dropping to his knees and pushing hair out of Elena's pale face. His fingers reached for her wrist, pushing them flush against the surface. Her heartbeat was a little thready, and as his fingers prodded against the skull of her head, there was a moment where Damon mentally held a breath, hoping that he wouldn't find blood. A whoosh of air escaped from between his parted lips as his fingers touched a large bump. She'd probably be feeling it for a while, but at least she didn't have a head wound gushing blood.
"You're lucky," Damon hissed at Jeremy with the darkest, black eyes as he tenderly scooped Elena into his arms. "If you had killed her, I would have returned the favor faster than you can blink."
"Oh, I'm scared," Jeremy mocked, rolling his bloodshot eyes, as he squirmed on the ground. "Big, bad Damon has me shaking in my boots."
"Watch your tongue, kid," Damon warned, shifting Elena in his arms. "Being Elena's brother doesn't give you a get out of jail free card. So go ahead. Keep taunting and I'll snap your pathetic little neck. You're nothing more than a coward that doesn't know the half of it. So shut your cake hole about wanting to join the undead. You know nothing."
Jeremy's shoulders slumped, his eyes sweeping across Elena's still form. "Don't talk to me about what you think is best, Damon. I'm not the murderer here."
"Shut the hell up," Damon snapped, his resolve crumbling. "You don't know a thing about me, so you don't have the right to pass judgment."
Jeremy flashed his a cold smile. "Two way street," he sang, slowly drawing out the words.
Damon clenched his teeth. "After I tried to help you?" He kicked the dirt, sending a rock careering into the wall. "Gee, thanks Jeremy. With Stefan gone and Caroline in the hospital, you left your sister a mess. I'm so glad she means so much to you that you'd tryto kill her. I'm really feeling the sibling love..."
Jeremy gave Damon a challenging look. "I'm already dead. Give it your best shot."
"Tempting, but I don't fight whiny, little human bitches. Sorry."
Damon's cell phone vibrated in his pocket just as Jeremy shot him another dirty, narrowed look. He shifted Elena to his left hip, his right hand dipping into his pocket and pulling the sleek, black phone out; he didn't even bother to look at the screen as he flipped it open in fluid ease.
"Perfect timing, Ric," he drawled. "I'm glad you had to wait all this time until it was a convenience to call. When Elena wakes up, I'll make sure she thanks you profusely, teach."
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Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I hope it was worth the wait. And everything will start falling into place by chapter 10, and you'll start seeing how the other characters will factor into the story. I just needed to take care of the Jeremy situation first.
Second Note: I'll probably edit this chapter in the near future again; heavily. So tell me what you think. And don't forget to review. I appreciate it so much.