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Can't wait to see what you think about this chapter!

It's a bit longer than the others.

Present Day

The cabin looked much bigger in the daytime, than it had the previous night.

Elena clung to Damon's hand as he led her through the front door.

Two days ago, she hadn't even believed in magic.

Now she was about to partake in a blood sacrifice.

The thought rattled her mind.

Something so absurd, yet undeniable.

Crazy.

"Just relax," Damon instructed, "You're safe, remember?"

She nodded, as they entered the decently sized living room, and she released Damon's hand to sit on the couch she'd occupied before.

"How will this work?"

Damon sat on the small coffee table in front of her, "It's simple really. You offer me your blood, willingly, and it's components act as a catalyst. There's an incantation. A spell, which I'll perform, that will allow you to access the flow of magical properties...then you'll need to consume blood. Magical blood."

Elena froze, "You didn't mention that before."

Damon sighed, "You won't remember this, but long ago, I promised you that I would never force magic upon you. That it would always be your choice. I stand by that promise," he took her hand, "I am aware of your current opposition to taking life. I would not ask that of you, if it is avoidable."

"And is it?" She pressed, "Avoidable? Or do you have extra blood stored in your pantry?"

She had meant it sarcastically, but Damon's head tilted, "The fridge actually."

Elena blinked.

"You're serious."

Damon nodded, and she had to force herself to swallow.

"Was it here?" She whispered, "Did you kill that girl here?"

Damon's face was unchanging, even when Elena ripped her hand from his.

"Yes," he admitted, "But the blood is only for future purpose. For this spell, you must consume the blood directly from the source, fresh."

Elena's stomach lurched, and Damon quickly finished, "My blood will be sufficient."

She was taken aback, "Your blood?"

Damon nodded, "It runs strong with magic. It will work as activation for the spell."

Elena took a steadying breath of air.

All of the answers she wanted lay locked in her own mind.

Damon was offering her the key to unleash them.

She knew she wanted her memories back.

But the magic...

She wasn't so sure that it was also something she wanted.

She didn't want to feel the addiction Damon had described.

She didn't want to take control of something that had the power to turn her into a monster...a murderer, like him.

But she had to, didn't she.

Hadn't Damon said something about the magic of the comet killing her if she wasn't prepared for it?

"You're troubled," Damon concluded, watching her face intently.

Elena nodded, "I want to do this, I do...but..."

"But what?" Damon questioned.

Elena shook her head.

She was either going to do this, and learn the truth, or she wasn't and she would die.

She wanted to know, needed to know, what had happened to her.

She'd deal with whatever consequences followed.

"Nothing. Let's do this."

Damon smiled, and waved his hand.

A jar appeared out of thin air.

Then his knife, the same one that had, earlier, been pressed against her neck.

"Hold out your wrist."

Elena's hand shook, as she extended her arm.

Damon had sat the jar down, and gently took her hand in his own.

The blade, in his other hand, touched against her skin.

"Ready?" He asked, blue eyes gazing up at her through thick lashes.

Her breathing sped to match the pounding of her heart.

She nodded, as the front door burst open.

It was a mark of Damon's practice with weapons that he did not cut Elena as they both jumped, heads turning.

Stefan stood in the doorway, light from outside streaming into the dimly lit room.

Damon frowned in annoyance, standing.

"It is poor form to enter someone's residence without knocking first," he scolded. "You killed me," Stefan growled, "So forgive me if my actions ignore formalities."

His eyes found Elena, sitting on the sofa.

"So you are here."

"This has nothing to do with you, Stefan," she told him, surprising Damon, "This is about me. I need to remember. I need to know what happened."

"No you don't," Stefan insisted, kicking the door shut as he stepped inside, "Elena, whatever he's told you-"

"Stefan, stop," Elena stood.

"This isn't about him either. It's my choice."

Stefan scowled, "You have no idea what you are doing."

Damon stepped forward then, bored with the exchange, "Back off, brother. At the very least, you must surely understand this is the only way to save her."

"No," Stefan shot, "It can't be."

"The comet is nearly upon us," Damon hissed, "With it, the tie to the spell Elena and I casted five hundred years ago. If her body is not prepared to handle the magic it's passing will bring, it could very well destroy her. Now, if you care for her at all, you'll let me finish what I have started."

Stefan was pale.

More so than usual, as he mauled over Damon's words.

He could only hope they stuck.

Elena sighed from his side, "Stefan, it'll be okay. Trust me."

His brother's gaze met hers, and Damon hated the exchange.

Hated that Stefan had any claim to her at all.

"We are doing this," he addressed, grabbing Elena's arm.

She nodded, looking up at him, "Yes."

They sat, and once adjusted, he looked at Stefan.

"This has to happen."

His brother's expression was pained, and finally he whispered, "I know."

Sure now that Stefan wouldn't impose a threat, Damon lifted his knife again.

"I suggest you move across the room," he called, "I do not wish to have to watch my back while her blood is shed. Nor risk you attacking her."

A flash of guilt crossed Stefan's face, then annoyance, but he heeded Damon's advice and walked back toward the door, which he leaned upon.

With a satisfied smirk, Damon looked back at Elena.

"Hold still, darling. This won't hurt much."

She nodded, taking a breath.

He let her settle, then pressed the blade into her skin.

She winced as he sliced her veins open, but stayed put.

He brought the jar up, and turned her wrist, letting her blood pour into the container.

He didn't need much, but wanted to be thorough.

Once the jar was a quarter of the way full, he turned her wrist again.

He could easily seal her wound with the run of his hand, but saw no fun in that.

With a wicked smile and eyes turned to Stefan, he brought her bleeding wrist to his mouth.

Her blood on his tongue alit the magic inside him, calling forth a thousand memories, and he moaned.

Stefan watched, tense, until veins slowly appeared under his eyes.

Damon smiled against Elena's skin.

"Easy, Stefan."

His brother ignored the taunt, choosing instead to stand, and leave the cabin.

A breeze of fresh woodsy air blew across them.

Damon pulled away, Elena's wound now healed.

Her eyes were on the door.

"Do you think he's okay?"

Damon eyed her, "He's a vampire, Elena."

She bit her lip, and he cupped her face, "Let's just finish this, alright?"

She nodded, focusing on him again.

Damon took her hands, and closed his eyes.

Pulling on the magic he held, he began the necessary incantation.

The air went still around them as he chanted, faster and faster.

Elena gasped.

He smiled, looking up at her.

It was working.

"Good. Now here," he brought the blade to his own wrist, and cut, "Drink."

Elena hesitated for a second, but then, gingerly, brought his arm to her mouth.

Her lips parted, and her tongue darted out, running across his skin.

Then she sucked.

Damon bit his tongue to keep from groaning, but damn, he'd missed this.

Elena pulled more greedily, and he knew she could feel the power now.

Her mouth was hungry.

But he was going to lose it if she didn't stop.

She'd taken enough to complete the ceremony.

She would once again be able to wield the magic she now drained from him.

She'd once again be a Shadowcaster.

Damon allowed her another moment, but then pulled back on his wrist.

To his surprise, Elena followed, pushing off the couch, and suddenly straddling him on the coffee table.

Her hand enclosed around his own, pulling the knife from it, at lightning speed, and she brought it to his throat.

He felt a slice of pain on his neck, exactly where he'd cut her before, and laughed.

Now this was his Elena.

Her mouth came against the cut she'd made as her whole body fell into him.

She latched to his neck, her teeth sinking into the skin to secure herself as she drank him in.

Damon was achingly hard, beneath her.

He leaned back, the table just big enough to support his torso, and Elena fell with him.

She was on top of him now, her hips grinding down with each pull she took of his blood.

Blood that she was draining quickly.

He gripped her ass, squeezing hard, and she released him as she moaned.

Damon used her momentary distraction to change their position.

Lunging forward, he tackled her into the couch.

Her gasp hit him in all the right ways.

But he forced himself to wait, hovering over her.

"How do you feel?"

Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed.

"I've never felt more alive."

Elena was breathless.

She felt that maybe she should care about the compromising situation she was in with Damon, especially since Stefan was just outside, but she couldn't.

All she could feel was the blood coursing through her.

The magic.

She could feel it!

As if it were a tangible thing she could physically touch.

It set her body ablaze, and heightened every nerve.

Now that she had stopped the flow of Damon's blood, the sensation was easing, but wow.

The rush was incredible!

Thankfully though, she didn't feel the sudden urge to go on a killing spree.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was..." She couldn't think of a single word to describe the vastness of her emotion.

"I know," Damon smiled, straightening himself, "It's even stronger with the blood of a born witch, but I thought it best to get you accustomed to the feel of it first."

Elena hardened her gaze, the elatedness fading some.

"I've told you, I do not wish to kill."

"And I told you that you wouldn't have to," Damon reminded her.

She nodded, relaxing again, "Okay, good."

The door opened again, and Stefan stepped through, "It's done?"

Elena nodded, fighting back a blush, "It's done."

Stefan nodded, entering the room fully, but leaving the door open.

His eyes landed on his brother, his face hardening.

Elena followed his eyes to Damon, and took note of the bloodied cut, circled by the indentions of her teeth, that was still leaking red onto Damon's collar.

The locket warmed, as her concern for Damon outweighed the embarrassment of her reaction to his blood.

"You're still bleeding," she noted, turning to face him.

Damon's hand came up to the wound.

Then he grinned at her, "So heal me."

"Damon," Stefan warned.

"What?" Damon shot, "She needs to learn to control it anyway, Stefan. Leave if you have such a problem with it."

"I'm not leaving her alone with you," Stefan started.

Elena cut in, "Both of you, stop it."

She looked up at Damon, "What do you mean, heal you?"

"Same as I healed you," he explained, "Magic runs in your blood. Now control it. Force it to yield to your will."

"How?"

He clasped her hand, and brought it against his bleeding neck.

"Feel it," he commanded, "Focus on what you want, and mold your mind to seeing it done."

Elena touched him gently, her eyes trained on his.

They were merely inches apart, and she could feel his heartbeat in her fingertips.

She tried to do as he said.

She voided her mind of anything but him, which was surprisingly easy, given the situation.

She took a slow breath.

His words made sense.

She could feel the magic still, like clay, waiting to be molded into action.

She concentrated on his wound, on the blood, and on his pain.

Why could she feel his pain?

Oh right.

Damon had said that magic gave him the ability to get reads on people, especially her, since he knew her so well.

Perhaps that was what she was picking up on.

His aura, or whatever.

Okay.

Focus.

She closed her eyes.

Heal, she thought, heal him.

Suddenly, something slipped in her mind, and she felt herself stiffen.

Her lips began to move, as words in a language she didn't understand began pouring out.

Her hand grew hot where it rested over Damon's skin, an incandescent glow emerging from the wound.

Heat filled her body, and the necklace began to sting.

Her vision blacked.

"Damon! What have you done?!" Stefan's voice was far, "What's happening to her?!"

"Elena?!"

"Stop moving!"

Damon groaned, from his place on his bed, "I can not."

"Well, you must," she instructed, "Otherwise I can't heal you."

He was lying on his stomach, his back covered in blood that leaked from the stab wound beneath his shoulder blade.

"You will not be able to," his voice was gruff, "Emily was more powerful than I expected. More prepared. The blade cut deep."

"She knew what you are," Elena reasoned, grabbing the cloth from the water bowl near the bed to clean him again, "What we are. She knew it was only a matter of time before-"

Damon winced.

"Apologies," she flinched, "How do I heal you then?"

"Spell," he groaned, "Summon the altar over. My grimoire is there. It should have the incantation."

Elena nodded, doing as he commanded.

"You can really only find fault in yourself, you know."

Damon sighed as she turned the pages of his spell book, "Yes, I know, darling. You warned me of going after her. But it does not matter. She is dead, and we have all that we need for the spell. Her magic is powerful enough to see this through. Tomorrow, my father will join Emily in death, and you and I shall be freed, at last."

Elena leaned down, kissing his head, "Yes, my love. At last."

Her hand covered his wound, having found the correct spell.

"Brace yourself."

Light reflected from her hand, as Elena was once more, plunged into reality.

Her body jolted, and she lost balance.

She almost met the floor, but then Damon's arms were around her, and she was upright.

Both Salvatore's were staring at her, concerned.

She shook her head, "It's okay. I'm alright."

"What was that?" Stefan demanded, but Damon held her gaze.

"What did you see?" He asked her gently.

She ran a hand over her face, "Just more of the same. Glimpses. Me doing magic. Uh, you were hurt. I did some kind of-"

"Healing spell," Damon nodded, "The night before we died."

Elena shuddered.

Death was not what she wanted to think about.

"That was a memory?" Stefan confirmed.

Elena nodded, "I told you, they've gotten more frequent."

On that note she quickly brought her hand up to her nose.

"I'm not bleeding," she said, relieved.

Damon smiled at her, "Well at least we know the spell worked correctly. And your magic is as powerful as ever."

He indicated to his neck, which was completely healed.

"You will need to rest, though."

Stefan cut in, "I agree. I'm taking you home."

He made to grab her, but Damon stepped between them, "I do not think so, brother."

"I've told you, I will not let you ruin her!"

Damon narrowed his eyes, "And I've told you what I will do if you get in my way."

"Then kill me," Stefan spat, "That's the only way I'm letting you get what you want."

Elena placed a hand on Damon's arm.

She didn't want a fight.

He chuckled darkly, eyes on Stefan.

"There are things worse than death, you know."

He stepped forward and Stefan tensed.

"Get in my way, and I will turn you into the monster you are fighting so hard not to become. I will drown you in blood until you lose control. Then I will unleash you on cities. I will deliver bleeding children to your arms and watch as you rip them apart, unable to stop, until you go mad, hating yourself. Imagine, trying to put yourself back together after falling so far into your own animalistic nature. Do not test me, brother."

"Damon," Elena warned.

She could picture all too easily his words, and knew somehow, that he wasn't bluffing.

Damon had already shown that he would go to any means to be with her.

But she would not have it come to that.

"Enough," she told him, and was a little surprised when he listened to her, backing off.

Stefan's face was void of color as he stared at his brother.

He saw the same thing she had.

No bluff.

"Elena, please," he tried one last time, "Let's just go."

But she couldn't.

She had to see this through. She had to let Elainiana Petrova in.

"I'm sorry."

He steeled at her words, cursing.

"You know where to find me," he finally bit, "If you come to your senses."

She felt a pang of guilt as he stormed away.

She didn't want to hurt him.

But he didn't understand.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, and she leaned back into Damon's hard body.

She felt his love for her flowing from him in waves, mixed in with the loss of their past, and hope for their future.

She had to finish this.

Sooo the spell worked! Lol. Maybe a little too well.

Please, please review! Love the feedback and motivation! :)