Crisp, smooth cotton cradled her. Only Damon would spend the money on that absurd thread count; only Damon would be anal enough to iron his sheets. If she was in his bed, she was safe. Even the pain in her head had vanished, which probably explained why the taste of blood lingered in her mouth like an old penny. She just hoped Ric—oh God.
"Ric!"she cried. She struggled to sit up, but Damon was at her side in a flash, pressing her insistently against the bed.
"It's okay. You're fine. Ric's not here." The words were gentle, but the low growl of his voice gave him away. Damon was pissed. Rage and relief battled for dominance on his face. "Just take it easy."
"That's not what I meant, Damon. I'll take it easy as soon as you tell me Ric's okay," Elena pleaded. How had Damon found her? With Ric looming over her unconscious body, rearing back to strike the fatal blow with that knife? Damon had snapped Ric's neck twice before over trifles; had he done it now, when the ring was gone and the stakes were so much higher? Not Ric. Not him. Not another grave.
Rage won the war as Damon's expression darkened further. "He tried to kill you, Elena. Twice. In one day." Fingertips ghosted across her forehead, just where the door had hit her. "Damn near did it that time, too. How can you even ask about him?"
She clutched at his wrist. "That doesn't even rate in my top five injuries for the week, Damon. And it's not Ric doing it; you know it's not him. Now tell me he's okay."
Damon's lip started to curl, he started to sneer some response, but then he stopped. "He's fine. Of course he's fine. If it had been anyoneelse..." He broke off, pulling her to him in a painful embrace.
She hugged him back with all her might. "But it wasn't. It was Ric. It is Ric. And we're going to fix him."
Elena could feel him swallow down some emotion he refused to show, even to her. "God, I hope you're right."
Had Damon ever really had another true friend like Ric? Sure, he'd had Stefan, but they were blood; they had no choice but to love each other. But Ric had chosen to befriend Damon, for reasons she wasn't sure anyone understood. And they'd stuck together through hell and back, for reasons neither of them could quite explain. To lose Ric...Elena wasn't sure either of them could weather that. Elena stroked Damon's back until the vampire pulled himself together and reluctantly released her from his bone-cracking hold.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"The cell. With dungeon master Stefan keeping watch. And he's not coming out this time. Not until Bonnie can get here and work her hoodoo on him," he said firmly.
"Bonnie? You talked to Bonnie?" Hope leapt inside her. "Is she-"
But Damon was shaking his head. "I don't have a death wish; I'm staying far, far away from her. Stef called her. She's on her way. Apparently she and Caroline headed down to North Carolina with Abby this morning; thought it might be easier for her to transition at home. She'll be here in a few hours."
"Good. That's good." And it was. But that didn't stop the dull ache in her heart, that empty spot Bonnie's rejection had left behind. "And Meredith? Alaric—or whatever's inside Alaric—said she was still at the hospital, but I saw her car. And the knife." She shuddered. Elena was just going to stop keeping knives at home. John. Jenna. Now Meredith. It's not like Elena liked to cook, anyway. She made a mental note to throw the damn knife block in the trash next time she was home.
"Dr. Crazypants is down the hall sleeping. He got a good gut stab in, but nothing a little vampire blood didn't cure." The little smile faded from his face. "And speaking of. We need to talk."
"We don't have time to talk. We should be helping Ric. Doing...something," she said. Whatever they needed to talk about could wait. They couldn't lose Ric. It wasn't an option.
"We have to have time for this, Elena," he said. For the first time since she'd awoken, she looked at him, really looked at him. Lines of strain and worry marred his eternally beautiful face- a tightness in the mouth, a tension in the eyes. "I almost lost you twice today. We've been lucky. You were right. It's time." He searched her face then dipped his head, pressing a gentle kiss to her throat, to that tiny leaping pulse. Her heart thundered in her ears. "It won't hurt. You won't feel a thing," he murmured. "It'll be like falling asleep. And when you wake up, I'll be here. And you'll be safe."
His fangs slid into place against her neck. All she had to do was nod, and it would be done. She just had to let go, endure that brief prick of fangs and curl up in his arms and let him rock her to sleep. Wasn't this what she'd wanted? Wasn't this what she'd begged for?
But it was Damon who'd been right. This wasn't a decision to be made from fear. And all the same problems he'd raised before still applied. Chiefly, Klaus. But more immediately, they didn't have time for her to transition right now. They already had Abby to deal with, not to mention Stefan's quest for redemption, Ric's little murdering problem, the threat of the Originals and Sage. Elena couldn't let them all get distracted from what was important by focusing on her. Not now. Elena grasped his face in her hands, tugging him away from her neck.
"No. Soon. But not like this. For love, Damon," she said, stroking his lacy cheekbones, soothing his furrowed brow.
"This is for love. Don't you understand? I nearly killed Ric. I almost went fucking Ripper on him, tore him to pieces because he'd hurt you. If he'd actually done it? Christ, Elena. There wouldn't be anything left of me if you were gone." Blue eyes surrounded in a sea of scarlet searched hers. "Do you want me to beg? Want me to get on my knees? Because I'll do it."
"I always did like you best on your knees," Sage said, voice low and thick as honey. Damon flung himself in front of Elena, bristling as Sage strolled into the room. "Oh, but don't let me interrupt. This looked like it was just about to get interesting." The vampire leaned against the doorway, her lower lip catching between her teeth in a smile she obviously thought was charming.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, Sage?" Damon snarled. Elena rested her hand on his arm, terrified he'd make a run at the ancient vampire. He was no match for her; may as well have been as human as she was in the face of this threat. He tensed further at her touch, but made no move to attack the vampiress.
"No, Damon, who the fuck do you think you are? You're a vampire. She's food, she's a toy, she's a slave." The redhead's heels clicked on the floor as she approached. "You knew that, once. You knew your place in the world. And you knew theirs."
Damon's knees bent. "Take one more step, Sage, and I swear to God—"
A laugh like a crow's harsh cry echoed off the walls. "You'll what? Don't flatter yourself, boy. But I didn't come here to fight. I came here to help you. Rebekah and I had such a nice time at that charming little bar—what's it called, Mystic Grill?" Sage leaned around Damon and waggled her fingers at Elena. "Hello, doppelganger. Hate to break it to you, but Rebekah is not so fond of you."
"Feeling's mutual," Elena said, sliding off the bed to stand beside Damon. All he'd accomplish by trying to protect her was getting both of them killed. At least this way, Sage wouldn't have to go through him to get to her. "What did she say?"
Damon scowled over at her, but didn't push her behind him. He must have realized the truth of the situation, too. His eyes cut back to Sage. "More importantly, how'd you get her to talk? She hates your guts."
"But she loves Jell-O shots. Sad, really. Most vampires can hold their liquor, but not that one. Such a little girl," she sighed. "Didn't even need to read her thoughts; she spilled all her sad, dark secrets to me in a pathetic shower of tears. Do you want to know what she thinks about you, Damon?" she asked with a nasty grin.
"Couldn't possibly care less," Damon said. "Now get to the point or get the fuck out."
"You used to have better manners," Sage sniffed. "But fine. She's looking for a tree. A white oak tree, to be precise."
Damon and Elena stared at each other in slack-jawed amazement. A white oak tree. Another one? Surely they weren't this lucky. Had they really been given another chance to end Klaus once and for all?
"Ah. I see I have your attention now," Sage said.
"It was cut down. That's why she was asking about the lumber mills," Damon said slowly.
"Glad to see you haven't gone completely stupid. I'll keep Rebekah occupied while you look through your records and find where the damn thing went." Sage turned as if to leave, but in the next breath she was pressed against Elena, their bodies molded together. Veins crawled beneath Sage's eyes like snakes, and her fangs extended, curved and wicked. "Let's turn her, Damon. At least then your puppy-dog love wouldn't be so pathetic." Sage's wet, pink tongue darted out, lathing a line on her pulse. Elena made a horrified, nameless sound, but couldn't seem to muster the courage to free herself from this thing that held her ensnared. Sage buried her face in Elena's long hair. "I bet she tastes delicious," she cooed.
Damon crashed toward them, but Sage was already gone, disappearing in a mocking hail of laughter.
Suddenly Elena could move again, Elena could think again. She threw her arms around Damon and held him with all her feeble strength. It was nothing to a vampire, of course, but it at least gave him pause as he turned to tear off after Sage. "Let me go, Elena."
"If I let you go, she'll kill you." Every muscle in his body was flexed tight as a steel wire, straining to follow the predator who had dared threaten her. Elena had never seen Damon quite so feral, the animal within quite so close to the surface. "What will happen to me if you're gone?" she asked in a small voice. It was manipulative. It was wrong. But it worked. Damon turned to her, the last veins bleeding from his cheeks as humanity returned, as she brought him back to himself.
"Do you see now?" he asked. "We can't play this human game anymore. The stakes are too high." His eyes darted to the window."If we did it now, you'd be awake by the time the sun went down; add a bag of blood and you'd transition before the moon rose. Please."
"We don't have until sunset, Damon. We don't have until the moon rises. If I die now, I'll come back." She forced a smile. "I'm surprised I'm not already a vampire with all the blood I have in my system. But we can't worry about us right now. We have to find that tree."
"The tree? Oh, I know exactly where the tree is. Can't believe I didn't put two and two together," he said, disgust dripping from the words. "I remember that tree. We got a damn fortune for it—bought me my first car. My Tin Lizzie." As wound up as Damon was, the memory of his first set of wheels could still bring a smile to his face. "All I have to do is go get the wood, and we're back in the Original killing business."
Good. He was distracted, he had a plan. Elena still wanted to turn. The only way they could truly be together was if they met each other on equal ground—either human to human or vampire to vampire. Since the first option was impossible, she would have to be the one to change. And she would give up everything—the normal life, the children, the white picket fence—for Damon, but he'd been right. Not like this, not hurriedly and furtively like thieves in the night. Not before she told Jeremy, told Ric, spent one last day basking in the sunshine and eating ice cream and making love and just being human, just for one last day. With pints of vampire blood coursing through her veins, she was as safe now as she ever would be.
"Where is it?" Elena asked.
"Wickery Bridge. We sold that lumber to build the Wickery Bridge." Damon shrugged into his leather jacket.
So that explained it: The bridge was cursed. It was fated to cause pain and suffering to everyone, but most especially to the doppelganger who'd suffered to create the vampires only the white oak could kill. No wonder she hated that fucking bridge. "Good. Let's go get it before Rebekah figures out where it is."
"There's no 'we' in this one, babe. No turning, no going," Damon said.
"Can we just fast forward to the end of this argument? You tell me it's too dangerous, I say it's worth it, and I wind up going anyway. There. I just saved us like ten minutes. Can we go now?"
"Not this time." It happened too fast for Elena to follow, but one moment she was walking to the door and the next Damon had her pressed against the wall, had snapped the flimsy vervain bracelet from her wrist and tossed it aside. Elena didn't even have time to be afraid before the compulsion took hold. It was like being cradled in a cloud, soft and comforting and so safe. Blue eyes bored into hers. "You will not leave this house until I get back. You will stay away from the dungeon, and you will stay the fuck out of trouble. Do you understand, Elena?"
Some part of Elena was screaming in outrage, some part of her wanted to tell him to take his compulsion and shove it. But that part was so far away from the cloud she drifted on. She nodded. "I understand."
"I know you're going to be pissed at me. You have every right to be. But I can deal with pissed. I can't deal with dead." He kissed her, and the instant his eyes broke from hers, that rage came flooding in like a tsunami. Before she could lash out at him, before she could scream, he was gone. And she was trapped.