Hey guys! So, I wanted to give a shout-out to a guest review from 'Cndy'.

Cindy, I absolutely adore this review! It made my whole day. I don't want to give away the story, so I won't say too much, but I just really wanted to tell you 'thank you'! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

This chapter is dedicated to all my reviewers Enjoy, guys!

I didn't sleep much that night; I was too frightened to do anything other than slide further under my blankets, and try to ignore the chilling winds whipping around my room. The whole night had been freezing-cold, but I wouldn't have gone near that window for a million dollars.

I'd dozed off for maybe an hour or so before finally I gave up on sleep altogether, and threw my covers off my shivering body. The frosty air swept over me, and I jumped up and ran for my closet. Throwing on my heaviest sweater, I started downstairs for some breakfast.

I was the only one awake in the house. I checked the clock hanging up in the living room as I passed through; it was only five thirty. With a sigh, I made my way into the kitchen and began to brew a coffee. I knew I'd need the extra caffeine to get me through the coming day.

The tiles were cold on my feet. As I waited for my coffee to finish brewing, I hunted around the room for a pad of paper and a pen. In a junk drawer, I made a lucky find. I sat down at the island and shoved my messy hair behind my ears.

At the top of my To-Do List, I wrote:

*Check on Jeremy.

He was obviously my first priority. I hoped the hospital had been warmer than my room for him. 'Would Jenna mind if I went to see Jer without her?' I wondered to myself.

I amended that if she wasn't down by the time I'd finished breakfast, I'd head out alone—even if I had to walk. With that resolved, I continued writing:

*Stop by Stefan's house

I was anxious, nervous, and excited to see what information Stefan would have about the ring he and his brother wore. I had to know if it had any connection to the one Damon had given to me.

*Call the Sherriff

Sherriff Forbes was my next move. If anyone knew what Damon was hiding, I was going to assume it was her. Had he not said they were friends? If I knew anything about Caroline's mom, it was that she was big on trust, just as I was. If she was friends with Damon, there was a reason for it. She wasn't one to waste her time on people who weren't worth it.

I was suddenly struck by a haunting thought. Had I not trusted Damon blindly? Was that an effect he had on many people? That thing that he did with his eyes…could that have been a part of our odd faith in him?

I chewed on the inside of my cheek nervously, and moved onto my next task to distract myself from my pondering.

*Buy lock for window

I was tempted to go out right then and there and take care of that one. I was thoroughly freaked out that someone had opened my window, and may have even slipped my ring onto my finger.

I remembered, with a jolt of fear, how swiftly and easily Damon had put that ring on me in the first place. I'd been surprised to find myself wearing it, surprised that he'd been able to get it on me without my feeling it.

Had he come into my bedroom and put the ring on my finger?

No. That was crazy. Why would he do that? He wouldn't—it didn't make sense. It was just a ring that he'd been trying to get rid of. He'd said so himself.

But he'd also said more, I recalled. "You should never take that off, Elena." He'd never filled me in on why, but it had seemed very important to him that I wore it.

I was at least certain of one thing: that ring wasn't just a good luck charm. It was something much, much more.

The coffee maker beeped, and I gasped at the unexpected noise. Then, I dropped my pen down and left the list on the tabletop as I retrieved my mug from the sleek, updated machine and added cream and sugar. I took a slow sip and pushed my hair back from my slightly sweaty forehead.

Something really big and really dangerous was going on. I could feel it pushing I on the town ominously—

There was a knock at my door.

Perplexed, I peeked around the corner to check the living room clock again. It was still before 6:00a.m. Who would be at my door at this hour?

Tentatively, I pulled a few napkins off the counter and slid them under my feet, so that whoever was outside wouldn't be able to hear my footsteps. I shuffled my way to the stove, and grabbed the cast iron pan that I was going to make eggs in off the back burner. With my heart pounding violently, I crept through the hallway, towards the door. I clung to the side of the wall as I went, hoping no one could see me through the window.

When I reached the door, I crouched down to shield my form from the window at the top, and tightened my grip on my pan. Slowly, I reached myself up until only my eyes were looking through the glass. I jumped back, startled, when I met someone else's.

My panic attack had a two second lifespan, until I realized the wide, doe-brown eyes belonged to my best friend, Bonnie.

I quickly turned the lock and let her in. She was shaking, dressed only in her pajamas, wearing a strange, glowing necklace around her neck.

"Elena, I need help."

Bonnie sat on my couch, wrapped in blankets, as Jenna slept soundly upstairs. She was probably over tired; I estimated that I had about seven to have an apparently much-needed talk with Bonnie.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, patting her arm supportively. Her shaking had stopped once she was out of the old, but her eyes were still scared.

"I might be going insane," she admitted, laughing without the slightest trace of humor.

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Why would you think that?"

"I—I'm a witch."

My eyes bugged. "Whoa, slow down. Start from the beginning, and tell me everything."

So, she did. "You know how I was a little MIA this summer?"

I shrugged. "Well, yeah, I was, too," I reminded her.

She blinked. "Sorry, I—"

"No, I wasn't trying to—you know."

"I know," she finished for me kindly. "Anyway, I was spending a lot of time with my Grams."

"I thought your parents said she was kind of…loopy?"

"She is—kind of. But, she was telling me stories about our heritage, about the line of Bennett witches, and at first, I thought she was just crazy, you know? Witches don't exist.

She told me that there was this really powerful witch, Emily, and that she used to live here, in Mystic Falls. Emily supposedly descended from one of the witches accused during the Salem Witch trials in 1692. She practiced magic in the 1860's, and she had this really close friend, Katherine. Katherine Pierce. I don't know what for, but Emily made jewelry for her—like, enchanted it. It was weird. I know that they were good friends, though, until Katherine gave up her secret to the first Founding Families of Mystic Falls. They burned her at the stake, and as far as I know, everything she had was lost."

I drew in a deep breath as I considered the story. "So...what? You think it's true?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Fear and a bit of excitement glinted in her eyes. "Because, I…" she looked around, and her gaze settled on a heavy blue book sitting on the coffee table. It was probably one of Jenna's reads.

I waited for her to grab the book, or to tell me that there was something hidden in it, but instead, she just stared at it. I could tell that she was really focusing on it. Her hands were balled in fists, her forehead scrunched in concentration—

It moved. Just a little at first, and then an inch, and then it flew at least of foot in the air, above our heads. It was just suspended there in midair. For one second, I took my eyes off of it to look at Bonnie in alarm. She was watching it with a strange look on her face; she wasn't surprised. This had happened to her before.

"Give me a page number," Bonnie instructed.

My throat was dry. "Um…one hundred?" I croaked out.

She recited the first sentence of the first paragraph, and then, miraculously, the book opened to that page. She dropped it back down on the table slowly and I leaned forward to check. Her words matched up with the first sentence exactly.

She was a witch; my best friend practiced magic.

"Oh…my…God," I whispered quietly. Then it got louder. "Oh my God!" then, I was laughing, but frightened tears were tracking down my cheeks. 'Oh my God!" I hugged her tightly, and we sobbed.

Because I knew then that it hadn't been an animal that attacked my brother—but it also hadn't been a human. I wasn't exactly sure of what it was, but...if witches could exist, could vampires?

I stopped by the hospital to check on Jeremy at seven. Bonnie ended up driving me there. He was awake, and as soon as I'd walked through the doors, Jenna had texted me saying she'd be there to discharge him by seven-thirty.

Jeremy had been glad to have company. Bonnie offered to stay with him while I ran my errands. I double checked with Jer that he was okay, and then went to take care of business.

The first thing I wanted to do was find Stefan. I figured the best person to ask would be Caroline; my guess was correct—she texted me his number, and his address.

I sat outside his house, just out of view, and called him. I felt like a complete stalker, but I needed to know who was home before I went and knocked on his door.

He picked up on the third ring. "Hello?" He sounded surprised to have a caller.

"Stefan? It's Elena Gilbert calling. I'm sorry it's such short notice, but I'm actually kind of standing outside your house right now. Do you think we could talk about that ring?"

"Of course. Come on in, the door's open."

"Thank you, Stefan."

I slipped my phone into the back pocket of my dark jeans and walked about thirty yards to get to his grand house. It was really stunning—and huge. The house Tudor style, the bottom half all red brick, and it was shaded by old, tall trees. The green of the lawn against the brown of the detail was gorgeous.

The home had a view of the beautiful forest on one side, and the other, the front, faced a quaint street that was nearly empty of traffic. It was like entering a whole other world; once I stepped foot on that perfectly manicured lawn, I was no longer a part of Mystic Falls.

Stefan was waiting for me, holding the door open. He smiled at my gaping. "You like it."

"It's incredible," I consented.

Inside, there was dark-wood paneling, golden light fixtures, and brilliant chandeliers. Framed paintings were hung amongst other fancy wall ornaments, including two crossed swords and a few flickering candles. Formal sofas and chairs centered around an inviting fireplace completed the perfect picture. It was elegant, extravagant…but it was still homey, somehow, still comfortable.

"Did you decorate this?" I asked incredulously.

He laughed. "No, I really don't know who did…Zach—my uncle Zach, I mean—he lived here before I did. So, I ah, don't know."

I nodded slowly, feeling a bit awkward. "Oh. Well." I was struck by a strange, sudden thought. "Isn't today a school day?"

He shook his head. "They called it off, for the investigation."

The information clicked in my head like turning on a light bulb. "Oh," I said, exaggerating the word. "That makes sense."

"You wanted to know about my ring," he verified.

I nodded. "Please."

"I'm going to make popcorn—I know, it's kind of strange, but I haven't had company in a while and, I'm kind of hungry, and it's a bit of a long story that I have to tell, so…"

I smiled. "Sounds great. Do you want help?"

He shook his head 'no,' before disappearing into the kitchen. I stood uncomfortably in front of the couch, listening to the bag he put in the microwave pop. A few minutes later, he returned with a pair of scissors in one hand, and a full, steaming bag of buttery, salty-smelling popcorn in the other. He was bouncing the bag up in his hand to keep from burning himself.

He set the bag on a side table next to the couch, and used the scissors to cut it open. I didn't blame him for not trying to pull it open with his hands; it looked really hot.

He left the sharp scissors on the table and offered me a handful of kernels. I took a few pieces and popped them into my mouth gratefully; I'd forgotten to eat breakfast after everything that had happened with Bonnie earlier.

"You…you can sit, you know." He pointed to the sofa.

I frowned, to hide my smile.

"What?" His tone was kind, but curious. He munched a few pieces.

"It's just that it looks so…regal, you know? I feel like I should have to wear a crown of some sort to be allowed to sit there."

He laughed. "It is pretty intimidating, huh?" He plopped down on it gracelessly. "There, see? If you want, I could even dump some popcorn crumbs all over it."

I grinned and sat down next to him. "No, this is fine." I focused my attention on his ring.

He had long, slender fingers. They were reaching for more food. I took some more myself, and we finished the whole bag before either of us spoke. He ate more than I did, probably—hopefully—I didn't want to take his food. I was starving, though.

After I'd put my hunger at bay, I started my questioning.

"So, you were going to tell me about your ring?"

"Ah, yes." He settled back into the couch, preparing to tell his story. "This ring has been passed down in my family since the late 1800's. There was one other ;ike it, and Damon has it. It was truly just something a friend liked and gave to our ancestors, but legend would have you believe that it was enchanted by a witch."

I froze. "When did you say this was, again?"

"Probably late 1860's, early 70's."

I stifled a gasp. "Wow, that's a long time," I said to cover up the shock that must've been written all over my face.

"Yeah. See, there was this girl, Katherine, and she was deeply in love with my fourth-great grandfather. It was a type of promise ring that he gave to him; she had one as well, given to her by her friend, a witch named Emily."

I nodded mechanically.

"Katherine happened to love my grandfather's brother, as well, and she gave another ring to him."

My heart ached for the original Salvatore brothers. "That's awful."

Pain flickered across his face. "It was," he agreed fervently. "Anyway, Katherine told the Founding Families about Emily being a witch, and they burned her at the stake."

"Why would she do that?"

He shrugged. "Her self-preservation meant more to her than anything; she would've killed anyone to keep herself out of harm's way. I assume that had something to do with it, but you never really knew with her. She was a little unstable."

"Why did she need so much protecting," I pried.

His face hardened. "Back then, people believed in things that the human world no longer accepts. Myths and legends about vampires, werewolves, witches, dopplegangers, and all kinds of other crazy creatures. "

I bit my lip. "Was she one of those things?"

"Yes, she was. And, supposedly, the Founding Families were there to take out such demons. So, Katherine made a point to always be one step ahead of them-even if that meant sacrficing the ones she loved."

"That's awful." I fluttered my fingers. "Did Emily enchant this ring, too?"

Stefan frowned, grabbing my hand in shock. "Where did you get this?"

"Damon gave it to me. Said it was one of many pieces of jewlery that nobody wanted."

Stefan nodded slowly. "Well, he's right; there was never any story about that particular ring. It was made by Emily, but never enchanted."

I clenched my hands into fists. "So why does he want me to wear it, then?"

He gave me a half smile. "Damon can be very...possesive. My guess would be that it's his way of staking a claim on you."

I felt ashamed for dustrusting Damon's movtives, after that. Maybe I was the one going crazy. "Oh."

"Elena, where have you heard of tehse rings before?"

I glanced up, meeting his eyes. "I trust your brother, Stefan. I can't quite explain why, but I do. Can I trust you, too?"

"To a certain extent."

I took a deep breath. "My best friend is a decendant of Emily; she used to tell me stories just like that." I did my best to protect Bonnie by not mentioning her name. "Obviously, neither of us believe them, but I've taken an interest in this kind of history." I paused. "What happened to Katherine?"

"She died, quite tragically. My grandfather and fourth-great uncle tried to save her, and died as well. They were shot."

"That's awful." It had been years and years ago, but I felt the need to apologize for his loss. Instead, I decided I'd learned enough, and said, "Thank you for telling me all of this. It's really interested me."

"You're welcome….You don't have to go, Elena," he offered as I moved to get off the sofa.

"Actually, I do," I said apologetically. "I have to get some things from the store, and visit a friend. But thanks."

I got up a little too quickly, eager to get to Sheriff Forbes and talk to her about Damon. I caught my ankle on the leg of the side table, and just barely managed not to fall. I had to slam my hand on the table to hold myself up, and I accidentally cut the heel of my hand on the scissors. A few drops of blood slid down my wrist. I winced and quickly pressed my hand into the cut. "Well, that was smooth."

I turned in response to Stefan's silence. His back was turned to me, but I could see his face in the window.

His eyes were blood red, and hungry. The veins in his neck traveled all the way up his face, creating little cracks and lines underneath his eyes and down his strong cheekbones. His teeth were poking into his lips, pointed and sharp like fangs.

The image only lasted for a second, before the veins slowly erased and the fangs retreated. When he turned, his eyes had pooled back to their normal color. He hadn't known that I'd seen him.

And I needed to keep it that way.

Feigning normalcy, I asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any Band-Aids?"

After my cut was cleaned up, he walked me out the door. His face had stayed human the rest of my stay with him, but I still couldn't get the picture out of my mind. He'd been ready to kill me; I'd seen it in the thirst in his eyes.

Once off the Salvatore lawn, I felt like I was back in Mystic Falls, where there were no immortal, bloodthirsty creatures.

Just witches.

When I reached the woods, I risked a look behind at Stefan's shadowy figure. He was watching from the doorway, looking almost as though he were going to propel himself out and run to me.

I sped up, thinking only one word.

A word I'd heard Vikki whisper; a word that had been beating against my mind like a drum for nearly twenty four hours; a word that I, suddenly, could hardly bare to think without feeling frozen in fear.

Vampire. The Salvatores' were vampires.