Chapter 5

Damon was driving with his widows down, blasting Marilyn Manson. His mind was to cluttered with worry and other things he wouldn't admit to, to sing along. He had been searching for Prince for hours now. After she ran from Elena's house Stefan came rushing over sensing that she was in danger. He could have sworn he saw his brothers pale face turn red anger when he heard what happened. Damon didn't even tell him about the voice he heard that set Prince off. Offering to go after and bring her back, he left.

That was six hours ago, it was now seven o'clock and all the families in Virginia beach where having there thanksgiving dinner. What he was doing all the way down here he had no idea, but his gut did. And something else. There was a tug at his chest that seemed to guide him to. He didn't even look try looking for her anywhere else, his gut told him to drive south east. Then when he got to the out skirts of Virginia beach his chest started throb, it felt like he had a invisible rope tide to him and someone was pulling in the direction where he needed to go. He fallowed the ghostly tugs, soon a sick feeling began to boil in his belly. A bad taste of what he was going to find at the end of that rope started to worry him. Damon couldn't stop thinking about Prince and what the sick feeling meant. It was that feeling you get when you walk into a room even though you know the killer is there waiting for you, heavy and thick sitting in the pit of your stomach radiating towards your lower back.

He turned onto a suburb road and fallowed it until the houses grew more and more apart. On this road the snow fell heavier, he could sense a snow storm in the west of him. Through his windshield wipers he caught the glimpse of dark red hair on a dark silhouette. It limped slowly away from him. He pulled the Ferrari over and jumped out of the car.

"Prince!" He shouted to her.

Slowly she turned her head to face him. Form the distance Damon could see the blood that covered her face, and the hand that clutched to her neck. The sick feeling that sat in his stomach before now boiled. As he looked closer he could see that tears came from her eyes. He walked closer to her and she limped further away.

"Prince, please." He pleaded as if she where a annoying child.

"Leave me be." Her voice carried to him.

She limped away a few steps for every one on his. Finally he grew tired of her childish games and dashed in front of her, frightening her. He caught himself from gasping at the site of her up close. The lump in his throat choked him. Her hair line had been ripped open by glass, shards of was still embedded in her scalp. Blood ran into her eyes. Her lips where cut and bleeding. His eyes made there way to her hand on her neck, blood ran down and soaked her sweater, her closed fingers did little to stop the wound from bleeding out. From there his eyes ran wildly down the rest of her body. She had no coat and was shivering madly, her jeans where torn. Bleeding cuts and gashes exposed to the frigid cold. He then found the source of her limping and oozing whole in the top of her sneaker. It was also covered in snow.

"Damon. . ." She whimpered her teeth chattering.

"Who did this to you?" Was how he responded.

Prince just gazed at him in pain.

He put his hand on her shoulders, getting closer, she cringed at his touch.

"Who did this to you!" Damon asked again this time a little louder.

Prince looked to her left, towards the clearing.

"Leave me be, Damon." She dropped her head but didn't try to get away.

Damon breathed heavily through his nose, took of his leather jacket and wrapped it around her.

"Wha-what are y-you do-ing?" She shivered.

"Taking you home."

Whit that he bend down and picked her up bridal style. She tried to argue with him, but the warmth of his chest eased the pain of the cold. He managed to get the passenger door open while still caring her and put her inside. He shut the door and got a blanket from his trunk. With limited space in the Italian sports car he leaned over and spread the blanket over her. His movement slowed when he saw her eyes. Half open, tired and blazing with pain. Her head had slumped onto the window, giving him a better look at her hand on her neck.

"Let me have a look at it." Damon reached for her hand.

She jerked away, and squinted her eyes in pain at the movement.

"There isn't very many places for you move to in a sports car." Damon joked practically on top of her.

"No." She simply muttered.

"You can't fight me."

He was right she couldn't every bone in her body screamed in agony and every move she made burned and ached. But the closer Damon got to her the warmer she felt, she had always felt cold around other vampires. She let another tear fall and gave in to his warmth. He placed one hand behind the other side of her neck and let him take her hand away form her neck.

He froze.

Her neck had been savagely torn by fangs. He admittedly slammed himself back into the drivers seat and made a sharp u-turn.

"Keep pressure on that." Damon said flatly.

Prince placed her hand back on her neck and slowly moved to comfortable spot. Damon put the heat on full blast.

"How long ago did this happen?" Damon said through his teeth.

After a few minutes she responded softly;

"Not to long ago."

"Shit." Damon cursed.

In ten minutes they where out of the city, and on the high way.

"Damon . ." Prince whispered.

He turned his head and saw that Prince was looking at him. His heart withered. Her face was filled with so much pain and regret. He wanted to look away and never see so much of it on a delicate canvas. His fist gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Why are you doing this?"

He looked at her again, this time she was facing the road. Only her eyes and nose where visible the rest was swallowed by his jacket.

"Saving your life?" he responded returning his gaze ahead.

"Is that what you call it . . ." her voice seemed to get weaker with each sentence.

"Stop talking, you need to save to your strength."

"I don't care anymore. . ." she breathed and picked up her head and took a shaky breath.

Damon got the feeling that she meant in ways more than one.

"Rest your eyes, we'll be in Fell's Church within the hour." Damon didn't look at her to see whether she did or not.

Damon started to wonder as he drove. Two major questions pecked at his brain. One why she had healed yet, he could still smell fresh blood. It got stronger with each passing moment. Two, who had attacked her like that. He knew better then to write it off as a animal attack. It was another vampire for sure, not just any ordinary vampire. He knew she fought back, the vampire wouldn't have left her alive to wonder aimlessly in streets of a city. He wouldn't. He felt a phantom of answers creep on him, they where just to transparent to understand them at the moment. There just wasn't enough room in his brain to concentrate. Besides his brain being cluttered with un-answered mysteries, he recognized a organ that he thought he had turned to ash centuries ago. His heart. Now in silence and the soft purr of the Ferrari he curiously felt his heart. It was hurt, sore. He dint' understand why or what it was for anymore. After five-hundred years without true love you lose your humanity in that sense. The more he thought and curiously explore it, it hurt more. The pain soon became unbearable for him to handle. He forced the door shut on the idea, and boarded it up again, he promised himself that he will never enter it again as long as he breaths. He knew he shouldn't lock things up, but it was the only thing he knew best.