Author's Note: I know it's been a long time since I updated this story, and I would like to apologize to my patient readers. I've had trouble picking this story up again, but I think I've managed to get the hang of it. This chapter is a bit of a filler, but it does advance the plot somewhat. You will all be happy to know that I've already started on Chapter 18, so I should be uploading that far sooner, hopefully within a week. Anyway, this procrastinator is going to let you get on with this chapter.

The moon glowed blue in the cloudless sky, stars spiraling out from it like the sun's rays. Shining her cellphone down at the sidewalk to see where to place her feet, Elena led the ragtag group in the expedition to her house. The eighteen-year-old had protested when an entire entourage had insisted on accompanying her, but she had been unable to deny the need for caution with this Mshiagi person on the loose.

"We must be getting close," griped Damon, bringing up the rear, dragging his feet behind him.

Keeping pace behind Elena, Finn snorted in derision. "Are you tired already?" he called back to Damon. "Must be difficult walking with that nasty limp of yours."

Damon frowned and immediately straightened, righting the collar of his leather jacket. Both Stefan and Rebekah had refused to leave E.J., much to Damon's annoyance. Finn had only agreed to accompany Damon, Elena, and Bonnie after Elijah had all but ordered him to.

Bonnie was walking in step with Elena. "We are close, right?" she mumbled to her friend. "Because I don't like having those two to our backs."

Sighing, Elena rolled her eyes. "You worry too much, Bonnie," she scolded. At Bonnie's reproachful stare, Elena pouted. "We're almost there, Bonbon, promise."

Bonnie rolled her eyes at the hated nickname but made no further protests.

Damon spotted the house long before either girl did. "We're here!" he sing-songed obnoxiously. "Now let's go get your brat of a brother and my idiot of a friend so we can get back to hell on earth!"

Face blank, Finn paused, glancing back over his shoulder at the shorter vampire. He asked coldly, "Did you just refer to mine and my siblings' home as 'hell on earth'?"

Damon shrugged. "If the shoe fits, ya know?"

Elena rolled her eyes and hurried on ahead, leaving her three companions behind. "You three stay out here!" she called over her shoulder. "I'll just run in and get them."

Eyes widening in alarm, Bonnie imploringly stared up at Elena, who had already ascended the porch steps. "You're leaving me out here with them?" the petite girl hissed, jerking her head at the vampires glaring at each other behind them.

With a quick tip of her head and a cheeky grin, Elena ducked into the house, abandoning her friend to the males' company for the time being. Her silly grin remained until she had stepped past the stairwell, and the overwhelming presence hit her.

She wrinkled her nose. Turning slowly in the dark house, holding her cellphone up to light the way, she surveyed the deserted home. "Jeremy?" she called cautiously. When she heard no reply, her heart beat harder in her chest. "Alaric?!" she exclaimed, her tone shifting to desperate.

The door flew open, and Bonnie hurried over to her. "Elena," she gasped, "what's wrong? You sound horrified!"

Before Elena could reply, Bonnie froze, her nose twitching. "Someone's been here," she mumbled. Elena watched anxiously as her friend fell deeper into her senses to place the strange presence that she could feel still lingering in the home. "And they weren't human," declared Bonnie, her eyes snapping open.

Elena could only shake her head, mumbling to herself, as she bolted up the stairs. As she blew past the bathroom, she noticed that the shower door was flung open and that a pool of water had soaked the towel scrunched against the shower's lining.

Pushing out of the bathroom, Elena stumbled toward her brother's room, terrified at what she might find. Before her hand could grab the knob, strong arms grabbed her from behind and hauled her backwards. "Easy now," a familiar voice muttered.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, frantically kicking back at the person's shins.

Wincing as the girl's flailing feet made contact several times, Damon wrapped his arms around his brother's girlfriend's waist, lifted her up, and carted her down the stairs. "Calm down," he grumbled to the she-demon. "You're getting too worked up."

"Somebody took them!" sobbed Elena, fighting the hold the vampire had on her. "I have to find them!"

Damon plunked her down just inside the door and passed her out to Finn, who took her by the arms and held her much more gently than Damon had. "We will, hon," the Original soothed, his iron grip keeping the wriggling girl still. "But you have to calm down and come back to the mansion with us."

Bonnie came out of the house, waving her hand for the two vampires to follow her. "I put that spell up for a reason," she snapped, angry at whoever had dared to hurt her friend's remaining family. "That mansion is the only place we'll be safe," she added.

Damon followed after Finn, who gently towed a pouting Elena along after him. "Are we going back?" asked Damon begrudgingly.

Elena swung around to glare at him, her glare so fierce that the vampire took a step back. "What," she snapped, "do you propose we do instead?"

Damon smiled uneasily. "Go back to that godforsaken mansion, of course." The sooner he could pass the she-demon back off to his brother, the better.

Smiling kindly back at Elena, Bonnie promised, "We'll find them, Elena. I promise."

TVDTVDTVDTVDTVD

The car jolted as it sped down the dirt road. Staring out the tinted window, Alaric watched the shadowed trees speed by with dulled eyes. The blonde boy next to him was still unconscious, slumped at an awkward angle in his seat. Alaric scowled, glaring ahead at the two men in front.

"What the hell do you want with us?" he demanded gruffly.

Neither man answered, instead exchanging whispered mutterings with each other. The one in the passenger seat, the shorter of the two, barked back at him, "We already explained this to you, human."

Alaric grumbled to himself under his breath. Although used to being addressed as "human" by Damon and the Originals and occasionally Stefan, he held no fondness for or fear of his and Matt's kidnappers.

"I feel," Alaric thought aloud, "that you did not explain very well."

The strange, white-haired man grunted. "You deal with him, Sven," he grumbled. "I'm about ready to reach back there and strangle him."

The driver and taller of the two sighed, peering back at Alaric in the rearview mirror. "I know our actions caused you alarm," he soothed, "but I assure you that we mean you no harm."

"Speak for yourself," the other man grumbled.

"Hush, Gerald," scolded Sven. He returned to watching Alaric through the mirror. "We are only trying to keep you from harm."

His feigned indifference waning, Alaric nodded in subjection and settled back in his seat. "Where are you taking us?" he asked wearily.

Before Gerald could berate him further, Sven replied casually, "Simply our residence. I do not yet know the name of it, but it is a Victorian-age home in the middle of the woods."

Even in his tired state, Alaric could deduce what residence they must be referring to, for he only knew of one such Victorian-age home in the middle of the woods. "The Salvatore Boarding House?" he asked hesitantly.

Sven shrugged. "Perhaps. As I said, we do not know the name of it. Do you know of it?"

Gerald interrupted, "Stop humoring him, Sven. He's clearly just trying to distract us!"

Watching the road in front of him with boredom, Sven sighed. "And what might he be trying to distract us from, Gerald?" he pressed.

"From his fiendish plot to escape, of course!" exclaimed Gerald. "He's got a plan cooking in that tiny, egg-shaped head of his. I just know it!"

Alaric was both amused and offended. Tiny and egg-shaped his head was not, and fiendish-plan plotting his thoughts were not. If he had the ingenuity required to "cook up a fiendish plan" to escape, then he imagined he would not have allowed himself to be kidnapped in the first place.

Before Sven had decided whether or not to call Gerald out on his childish accusations, the road forked away to the right, marking the driveway to the Boarding House. "And here we are!" he sighed in relief, flipping his blinker on and smoothly swinging the "borrowed" car onto the road.

Gerald snorted. "We would have been here a hell of a lot sooner if you didn't drive like a grandma!" He shook his head in embarrassment. "And, dude, for the hundredth time, you don't need to use your blinker while we're driving through deserted woods in the middle of nowhere."

Sven glared sourly at him. "I am just practicing caution, Gerald!"

Gerald snorted again. "Ha!" he scoffed, kicking open his door and heaving his large frame out.

"Do not damage the vehicle, boy!" snapped Sven. "I have every intention of returning it once we are through with it."

Ignoring him, Gerald hit the unlock button on his inside door handle and popped the door open on Alaric's side. "Up and at 'em, human. I want to see your backside marching through that front door!"

Alaric really didn't know how he had gotten into this mess. Neither man seemed particularly menacing, but he had been a wreck for the past several days and therefore not that up to resisting. Furthermore, he reasoned, jumping him while indulging in his third shower of the day (he dealt with stress by literally "drowning his sorrows" through telling his troubles to an imagined psychiatrist during his shower time) had been a low move. The shower door had been yanked open, a towel had been thrown over him, and a large something had been cracked down on his head. He had only come to fifteen minutes ago to find himself locked in by a childproof door in a car being piloted by his kidnappers. When he had registered Matt's presence beside him, he had tried to arouse the boy only to find a goose egg the size of a Ping-Pong ball rising from his head that was keeping him thoroughly knocked-out.

Before Alaric had decided on whether or not to comply with the rude request, Gerald had yanked him up by the arm and shoved him toward the door. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty! Can't you hear people when they're talkin' to ya?"

Alaric stumbled up the uneven, broken-up cobblestone path leading up to the Boarding House. The door had been left hanging wide-open, allowing Alaric to see into the depths of the old Victorian home. With the lights being off inside, he could only make out the outlines of furniture and what might be people milling about inside.

Instead of doing as he had been told, he paused to wait for the others to ensure that Matt was taken care of. The sun had disappeared long ago, leaving only the half-full moon to illuminate the night. Alaric guessed it to be past midnight, but he couldn't be certain since he had been haphazardly dressed by his kidnappers (once they had registered that he was naked), who had not thought to include a watch on his person. If the memory was not so embarrassing, Alaric might have been amused by Sven and Gerald's reaction to their clearly not well thought through plan. He was startled from his thoughts by the loud chirping of nearby crickets, his heart pounding as he listened to the night sounds surrounding him.

He felt rather than heard the approaching footsteps, turning around. Carrying a still-unconscious Matt across his shoulders, Sven was lagging behind, not from apparent strain but from peering up at the stars blanketing the sky. Gerald marched past Alaric, snagging his wrist as he passed and dragging him the rest of the way up to the boarding house.

Surprised by the shorter man's strength, Alaric could only dutifully follow as he was led over the threshold of the boarding house. Gerald tugged him further into the familiar home and pointed at the leather sofa. "Sit," he ordered gruffly, turning and marching toward the kitchen.

Sven entered a few moments later, striding toward where Alaric had seated himself and gently lowering Matt down next to him. "I do hope he awakens soon," the man mused, sounding almost worried. "He has been unconscious for longer than we'd anticipated."

Alaric tipped his head to the right to show his recognition, watching the unnaturally-beautiful man follow his comrade into the kitchen. Even as a man, Alaric could tell that these men were beautiful with their pale features and piercing ice-blue eyes. Even Gerald was more attractive than the average male.

A booming voice broke through the otherwise quiet atmosphere: "Why would any self-respecting vampire grow that amount of vervain in his cellar?"

A man and a woman appeared in the doorway leading to the cellar, both striding into the parlor. Alaric froze and cautiously peered over his shoulder at them. Having clearly not noticed the humans occupying one of the sofas, the couple continued their quarrel.

"You would find anything to gripe about with this place, Mikael," the woman scolded. "I understand that you're upset about being unable to reach the children, but it can't be helped. The barrier they erected is impassable."

The man, Mikael, breathed out in annoyance. "You know I've accepted that, Esther," he sighed. "I simply do not understand why we have to reside here."

The woman, Esther, pursed her lips, looking panged. "We have no other choice, my love," she sighed. "Mshiagi has commanded we reside here while we continue to search for ways to deal with the children."

"Pompous brat," snarled Mikael. "If he thinks for one moment that I find him intimidating, then he might want to consider growing a pair and letting the real men take charge!"

Esther immediately hushed him, eyes darting nervously upstairs. Noticing the humans for the first time, she turned and peered at them. Alaric avoided her penetrating gaze, feeling as if the woman were trying to rake through his soul for his darkest secrets.

"I was so close," she grumbled at Alaric. "You would have been the perfect weapon."

Mikael frowned. "Are you speaking to me, love?"

Shaking her head, Esther sighed and turned her gaze from the humans. "I wonder what on earth Mshiagi could want with such poor specimens of the human species," she wondered.

Mikael glanced at the humans. Eyes dulling to that of a bloodlust gray, he licked his lips. "Perhaps," he mused, "he intended them as a midnight snack."

Esther snorted. "It is past midnight, love," she corrected. "Are you now partaking of humans since this town has an absence of vampires?"

Mikael continued to hold Alaric's alarmed gaze. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he said. "We will have to see. I will hunger soon enough."

Alaric started when the door to the kitchen blew open. The woman who stormed through pierced the couple through with a glare so fierce they shied away. "Have you two no decency?" the woman snapped, ice-blue eyes shining with indignation.

Esther took her husband by the hand. "We were just leaving," she mumbled, towing her husband back to the cellar.

When the door had closed behind them and descending footsteps indicated their departure, the woman turned now kind eyes on Alaric and smiled. "I am sorry about that," she apologized. "I do not understand why Master brought about those two horrible people, but he has his reasons." She sighed. "Are you hungry?"

Alaric mutely shook his head, reaching a hand behind him and attempting to shake Matt awake.

The woman smiled again and nodded. "All right then. I am Evangeline. My sister, Mabel, is in the kitchen. I am sure you already know Sven and Gerald." She sighed and shook her head, almost affectionately.

Alaric moistened his dry lips. "Who's Mshiagi?" he asked hoarsely, barely able to pronounce the foreign name.

Cocking her head at him and smiling, Evangeline only bid Matt and him a goodnight before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Alaric sighed and slumped back against the couch. At least he was used to passing out on this couch.

Before Alaric could fall into blissful slumber, he was rudely shaken awake by frantic hands. "Alaric!" a voice hissed. "What the hell you doing here?! Wake up, damn it!"

Alaric grumbled and stirred, peering up at whoever was shaking him. He had to blink several times to clear his hazy vision in order to make out the person above him.

The boy looked vaguely familiar, but the boarding house was dark, making it hard to make out his features. "Alaric, it's me," the boy mumbled, leaning over the back of the couch. "What are you doing here?"

Alaric's brain finally caught up with his eyes. "Jeremy?" he mumbled.

Sighing in relief, Jeremy scrambled around the couch arm to plop beside Alaric, almost sitting on his lap. "I'm so freaked out right now, Ric," he mumbled, shifting to be closer to the man. "These two albino guys jumped me when I was on my way home and stuffed me into their car. Then they dumped me off here and left me with these insanely hot girls!" Jeremy paused. "Which wasn't so bad, I guess."

Alaric stared at his young friend, uncomprehending. "They're not albino, Jeremy," he mumbled.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "I just meant really fair, Ric." He frowned and scooted even closer to Alaric. "Since you're here, man," he mumbled to Alaric, "maybe you can explain to me what the heck is going on?"

Alaric sighed and shook his head. "I wish I knew, man."

From beside them came a loud moan, one which startled the man and the teenager. The two swung around, Jeremy tumbling into Alaric's lap he spun so fast, to face a now-awake Matt. The three stared at each other. Blinking his eyes tiredly, Matt yawned. "What's going on?" he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the room he was in.

Jeremy scrambled up off Alaric, and Alaric fully turned to face the other teenager. "We're at the boarding house," the man supplied mildly. Matt stared at him, rubbing the bump on his head. "Do you remember anything?" urged Alaric.

Matt sighed and shook his head slowly. "I was on my way home from work," he mumbled, "and . . . there was a car . . ." He slowly sat up and stared straight ahead. "I think it hit me," he mumbled.

Eyes widening in alarm, Alaric surged forward and frantically patted the boy down for any other injuries. Matt stared down at him, too dazed to understand what was going on, as Alaric finally sat back up, panting heavily. "You're okay," he mumbled, pressing a hand to his wildly-beating heart. "You're okay."

Matt slowly nodded. "I just got tapped," he mumbled, "but I fell down." He reached up and fingered the bump atop his head. "Guess that explains this," he mumbled, wincing.

Now assured that Matt was not mortally injured, Alaric returned his attention to Jeremy. "Jer," he began, "earlier I heard a man and a woman mention the name Mshiagi." Seeing Jeremy stiffen, Alaric continued cautiously, "Do you know who that is?"

Jeremy bit his lip and ducked his head down, his hair falling into his face. "He came up to see me a little while ago," the boy mumbled, shivering at the memory. "At first I thought he was just another kid who'd been kidnapped, and then he started asking me all these questions." Jeremy pursed his lips. "He was talking like he's not from this century, and he kept calling me 'child.'"

Alaric frowned. "You think he's a vampire?" he pressed.

Jeremy immediately shook his head, laughing sharply. "Not unless vampires glow from the inside out and look like they just fell from heaven," he replied.

Leaning back against the couch with a groan, Alaric reached up to rub his tired eyes. "My life," he grumbled, "sucks." Jeremy smirked and shifted so he could lay his head on Alaric's shoulder.

Alaric peered down at him. He observed, "You're awfully cuddly today."

"I've had a hard day," Jeremy mumbled, head-butting Alaric in the jaw to shut him up.

"Uh, guys," Matt mumbled, jabbing his elbow into Alaric's side to get his and Jeremy's attention.

Alaric jerked up and noticed for the first time the person standing in front of them.

Having approached them more silently than a vampire, the boy already had Alaric on edge. The fact that he was stunningly beautiful, even compared to their two kidnappers and that Evangeline woman, and that he looked to be glowing from the inside out frightened him. Having witnessed too much paranormal activity to dismiss such traits, Alaric surmised that the mid-teen boy standing before him was not human.

Alaric smiled nervously. "You must be Mshiagi," he greeted, the features that Jeremy had mentioned clicking in his mind to be the same as this boy's.

The boy cocked his head and smiled. "Hello, Alaric." At the sound of the boy's deep, melodic voice, Alaric froze. His mind was filled with the image of a crystal-clear waterfall glimmering in the midsummer sun.

Mshiagi approached him, walking straight and yet not running into the coffee table between them, and crouched down. "It's nice to meet you," the boy purred, laying a warm, glowing hand on the man's knee.

Alaric shivered, oddly relishing the feeling that touch filled him with. The boy was unnaturally warm, like the sun's rays, and the glowing aura about him radiated soothing that reached beyond his mind and to his soul.

Smiling at how easily he had melted the man's defenses, Mshiagi raised himself up and gently kissed the man's forehead. "You are exhausted, child," he purred. "This residence has many guest rooms. Please feel free to make use of them."

Alaric nodded mutely and stood, stumbling around the couch arm and toward the stairway.

Once the man had disappeared upstairs, Mshiagi turned his attention to Matt. He clucked disapprovingly. "Oh dear," he murmured, reaching out to touch the bump on his head. Matt stared up at the boy in wonder while Jeremy looked on in amazement. The bump had vanished, the redness around it having lightened back to its original beige.

"All better?" the boy asked, tapping Matt on the nose. Matt nodded dumbly. "The guest rooms are upstairs, little one," Mshiagi cooed, bending down and pressing his lips to Matt's forehead.

Matt nodded numbly and stood, following Mshiagi's lead as the boy took his hand and led him around the couch arm and toward the bottom of the stairs.

Dully staring ahead of him, Jeremy waited for the boy to come back. When several moments passed and Mshiagi had not returned, he wilted and curled up on the couch.

Before he had even closed his eyes, Jeremy felt a presence above him and blinked his eyes open, peering upwards. Mshiagi was gazing down at him, his head cocked to the side in interest. "What are you doing, little one?" he asked mildly.

At a loss for words, Jeremy shrugged. Mshiagi's aura was so powerfully soothing that words seemed unnecessary. The teen couldn't even remember why he had been wary of him before.

Leaning his knees against the couch and bending down over Jeremy, Mshiagi smiled down at him. If Jeremy had been standing, he would have been taller than the other boy, but Mshiagi's height seemed an inconsequential factor. He radiated with so much power that Jeremy might be afraid of melting if he weren't already stupefied.

"Were you wanting attention?" teased Mshiagi, running a slender finger lightly down Jeremy's face. The boy nodded mutely. Mshiagi sighed and perched on the edge of the couch.

He shook his head. "Sometimes you children amuse me." He leaned down over Jeremy and nuzzled behind his ear, kissing his neck. Jeremy shivered and pressed against him.

After a moment, Mshiagi sat up and peered down at him. "I hope that you understand," he suddenly spoke sternly, "that the affection I give is paternal only." Jeremy looked confused. "Some of the children I give affection to have gotten the wrong idea. It is a rather awkward situation that I hope to avoid."

Jeremy blinked stupidly. "I like girls," he mumbled.

Mshiagi smiled. "I have a certain fondness for them myself," he soothed, leaning back over the boy to tenderly kiss his cheek.

"Now off to bed with you," scolded Mshiagi, standing up and patting Jeremy's thigh. "It is far past your bedtime." Jeremy stared up at him. "Are you trying to tell me you make a habit of staying up until two in the morning?" snarled Mshiagi playfully.

Without another word, Jeremy hopped to his feet and hurried toward the stairs, hurrying up them to go in search of Alaric.

He found him stretched out on one of the beds in a two-bed guest room, blankly staring up at the ceiling. Alaric didn't even glance up when Jeremy flopped down beside him on the bed and stretched out next to him.

"What are we looking at?" the boy chirped, resting his head against Alaric's shoulder.

Alaric continued to stare. "He kissed me," he mumbled. Jeremy sat up and glanced down at him, his own mind fuzzy with the aftereffects of Mshiagi's powerful aura. Alaric groaned. "He actually kissed me."

Jeremy's brow furrowed, and he lay back beside Alaric again. "Yeah, me too," he relayed, empathizing with his guardian. He frowned. "Why didn't we think it was weird when he actually did it?"

Alaric shrugged. "I feel scarred," he continued to mumble.

Jeremy sighed and shook his head. "At least we know he's not gay." Alaric turned his head and stared at him. Jeremy laughed awkwardly. "He made a point to tell me his affection was paternal only."

Alaric blinked once before returning to staring up at the ceiling. "He's fifteen," he finally spoke after several long moments. "He shouldn't be 'paternal' about anything."

Sitting up, Jeremy leaned forward and grabbed his ankles, rolling his shoulders to try to relieve their stiffness. When he sensed Alaric sitting up next to him, he instinctively turned to allow Alaric access to his shoulders. The man gently kneaded his knuckles into the boy's back and shoulder muscles, giving the boy some much-needed relief.

Jeremy asked, "Do you think Elena's realized we're gone yet?" Receiving no answer, Jeremy sighed. What could Alaric say to that? "You think she's okay?" he mumbled over his shoulder to his guardian.

Alaric paused for a moment to chuck the boy under the chin. "Elena's a trooper, sport," he chuckled, "and she's got vampires and a witch to look out for her." He smiled and went back to his kneading. "She'll be fine."

Jeremy frowned, returning to staring off into space. "Ric," he asked, "how are we ever going to get out of here if we get all starstruck whenever that kid is around?"

Alaric grinned. "With careful planning, kid."

Thanks for reading!