CHAPTER 5 – THE LIGHT OF THE MOON

It was the longest she'd ever been thrown over a vampire's shoulder running at an inhuman speed, and when Rhiannon finally felt a firm ground underneath her feet again, she was about to slump towards the ground breathing heavily. That didn't happen as she felt Elijah's strong arms grasp her shoulders gently and prop her up. She didn't waste any time and started trashing around in his arms in desperate effort to get away from him and surprisingly, he let her go.

She backed up against the wall with death glare that may had worked on toddlers she used to babysit, but it did nothing to intimidate the vampire standing few feet from her, cautiously watching her every move.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Rhiannon," he said in a very civilized manner that had her confused for a while.

"Where am I? What do you want from me?" she snarled at him looking around. They were in a rather large living room with few comfortable armchairs and huge white sofa.

"I need you to answer few questions for me," he said and gestured to the nearest armchair. "Please sit."

"I'm not helping you so you can sacrifice my friend over some stupid cursed honk of rock!" she yelled at him, surprised by her abrupt reaction herself. Was she seriously yelling at a centuries old vampire who could snap her neck like a twig? Surprisingly, he looked more amused than angry.

"I understand how you must feel about me, but rest assured, I mean you no harm," he said, still not moving from his spot.

"And I'm supposed to believe you? This is the second time you've kidnapped me," she bit back crossing her arms in front of her, noticing his hands were still covered in blood from earlier.

He followed her gaze realizing what she was looking at and quickly retrieved a towel to wipe his hands clean saying: "You have my word that I will not harm you," he put the towel down on a coffee table and smirked. "And technically, I only kidnapped you once. The first time was Rose and Trevor's doing."

"Don't play with me," she retorted. "Why would I help you with anything?"

"The first time we met," Elijah started talking. "I'm sure you must have noticed my reaction upon seeing you. Aren't you the least bit curious why I reacted in such manner?"

It seemed like he finally got her attention. She narrowed her eyes, her brows furrowed and she bit her lower lip in concentration, contemplating upon her options. He watched her while she was lost in thoughts for a moment and all the painful memories rushed to the surface. He had to remind himself that she wasn't Brenna. But that must've meant she was her descendant. She certainly had her fire.

"I'm listening," she said snapping him out of his thoughts. He smirked and gestured towards the armchair again and this time she took his offer sitting down across the table from him.

"The reason I reacted the way I did is that you look like someone I used to know long time ago," Elijah started.

"Brenna," she whispered under her breath making him wince internally. "You said that name when you saw me back there. Who is she?"

"Who was she would be a more precise question," he corrected her looking down on his hands for a moment before adding: "You look exactly like the woman I was supposed to marry some thousand years ago."

"What?!" she cried out. He realized how crazy that must have sounded to her, but he also wasn't quite sure how to make it better. "So what… I'm like your wife's doppelganger?"

"Not exactly," he shot her a small smile. "We never got married, but that's a story for another time. For now, we need to find out if you are descended from her bloodline."

"How?" still clearly in shock from the information he just unloaded on her.

"Well Brenna was from an old werewolf bloodline. Now, members of every werewolf clan, especially the old ones, can be recognized by a distinct mark upon their body – a birthmark of some sort. Her clan's mark looked like three crescent moons bound together in a—"

"Circle," Rhiannon finished his sentence placing her left arm on her right forearm where her birthmark was.

"May I see it?" Elijah asked standing up slowly. Rhiannon, clearly in a loss for words, just nodded and extended her right arm towards him as he knelt beside her armchair. He gently took it in his hands, noticing she flinched a little and in spite of her best efforts to conceal her fear, he could hear her heart beat loudly in her chest.

"You still don't trust me," it was more of a statement.

"Would you?" she retorted.

"Given the circumstances, I probably would not, but I am telling you the truth," he said and pulled up the sleeve of her denim jacket, revealing the mark. "And this birthmark proves it."

He stood up making her flinch once again. He wouldn't admit it but it hurt him a little bit that she would think he would ever hurt her. It was perfectly understandable though. She only knew him as a creepy old vampire who wanted to use her friend in a sacrifice ritual. He walked over to a pitcher to fill up a glass with water, and handing it to her, saying: "Rhiannon, for the last time, you need not fear me. I give you my word that I will not harm you. And I do not give my word lightly."

"I'm sorry," she murmured taking the glass from him. "It's just. This whole supernatural crap, it's all so new to me. I didn't have time to process it and accept it as a part of my life, yet. Two weeks ago I was convinced that vampires and werewolves only existed in bad movies, and now I learn that I'm a werewolf descended from one of the oldest werewolf clans in history and a doppelganger of a thousand-years-old vampire's long dead fiancée. You can't make this stuff up, even if you tried."

"I understand it's a lot to digest," Elijah said pouring himself a little bit of bourbon. "And please, don't apologize. It is I, who should apologize to you."

"So what happens now," she asked, fearing the answer.

"Now," he said standing up. "I'm going to take you home."

"Oh… wait what? So that's it?" she asked, surprised and relieved at the same time. "You're not gonna keep me hostage, or anything like that?"

"No, Rhiannon," he retorted, looking amused again. "I don't need leverage, for I believe I can make Elena an offer she won't be able to refuse."

"Was that a Godfather reference?" she choked out, before she could stop herself. This was ridiculous, but she saw that hint of genuine joy in his eyes on her acknowledgement before he was able to bury it behind his default 'dispassionate face' setting. "I apologize for ruining your jacket."

"Oh," she didn't even realize it before he pointed it out, but now she noticed two bloody stains on her shoulders where he caught her earlier to prevent her from face-planting on the ground along with several other stains around her waist where he grabbed her when he took her.

"Well I'm sure that's nothing a little bleach and machine washing wouldn't solve," she said sheepishly, not noticing Jonas Martin sneaking behind her.

"I'm also sorry for doing this to you, but I can't have you knowing where I live," he said and she could see a sincere regret in his eyes, even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Then she felt it, the sudden drowsiness, and before she could do anything, she slumped into the armchair.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way, but you have too many friends who would try to coerce the location of this place from you," he whispered to her unconscious form before whisking her up and carrying her home.

No one was home when Rhiannon woke up in her own bed an hour later, confused and pissed at Elijah for roofing her. She showered and went back to bed. She'd have a shitload of explaining to do the next day and she wasn't particularly looking forward to that. She fell asleep replaying events of the evening and trying to figure out the strange feeling she had around this mysterious man. He was incredibly handsome, there was no denying that, and whenever he looked at her, she felt the proverbial butterflies flutter around in her stomach, but it couldn't be just that. She wasn't so superficial. There was just something about him that made, against all judgment, her feel safe.

"So he kills three vampires for no valid reason, takes you away, and then lets you go couple hours later after sharing the history of your bloodline?" Damon asked incredulously the next morning, after making Rhiannon repeat the same story for the third time. "This guy's just full of surprises."

"Yea, I don't get it either," Elena agreed with Damon, which was a little surprising given the fact that she was currently pissed at him for trapping her in the house.

"Well I wish I could help you guys more, but sadly, he didn't feel like sharing his secret plans with me," Rhiannon said walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She was feeling really under the weather that day, like she was about to come down with a flu or something. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going back to my bed and die."

She spent most of the day sleeping, having really strange twisted dreams about things that had happened that week plus some really weird dreams about ancient looking people, whom she had never seen before. No one had disturbed her the whole day. Jenna was at Mayor Lockwood's, Jeremy in his room playing video games and Elena was in her room moping.

She woke up around eight in the evening to a terrible stomach ache and she felt like her whole body was going to ignite, giving her the worst migraine ever. She jumped out of bed and bee-lined for the bathroom where she proceeded to retch her guts out, feeling like she was going to pass out soon.

She was washing her mouth out when she looked out the bathroom window and saw the full moon. And then it hit her. She wasn't coming down with a nasty flu; she was indeed turning in to a freakin' werewolf! How could she forget that tonight was the full moon?! It completely slipped her mind. She turned around and barfed again, this time for a whole other reason.

She wobbled her way through the hallway, barging into Elena's room to see Elena and Elijah shaking hands, then looking utterly confused. She must have been a sight to behold, sweaty, hunched and leaning against the door, face contorted in pain. She didn't even have time to be surprised over Elijah's presence in the house.

Elijah just made a deal with Elena and was about to leave the house to continue with the plan when rather disheveled Rhiannon in her pajama shorts and tank top barged into the room.

"Elena, I think we might have forgotten about something important tonight," she said through gritted teeth looking pointedly out the window at the full moon that was gracing the night sky, her eyes turning that golden-yellow shade for a second or two, then turning back to their normal hazelnut color. "It's happening."

"Oh my god," Elena whispered in horror.

"No," Elijah, murmured. "Is she…?"

"She triggered the curse the day before Rose and Trevor took us," Elena elaborated.

"This is her first transformation?" he asked feeling panic rise in his throat. He needed to get her out of the house before she would tear it down.

"Yes," Elena said and started towards Rhiannon to help her out, but Elijah stopped her. "No! Stay back. The moon's almost reached its apex, it won't be long now. I need to get her out of the house and into the woods. Now!"

"What are you gonna do—" Elena was about to ask when Rhiannon cried out in pain and fell on the floor as her bones started to break in transformation.

"Help me, please," she pleaded in barely audible whisper.

"Elena! Hand me that blanket!" Elijah instructed, whisking Rhiannon up into his arms once again and getting ready to run. He grabbed the duvet, the girl handed him and within a minute, he was in the woods, laying Rhiannon on the ground carefully, then spreading the blanket and laying her on it. He kneeled on the blanket and propped her limp delirious body up against his, caressing her hair lightly.

How could he not notice this? Usually he could tell werewolves by their distinct scent, he didn't smell anything yesterday. Perhaps it was because she hadn't turned before. Usually he came in contact with much older and experienced wolves. She was a newbie.

Her skin was on fire and he could hear her heart beat at a rate that would send a normal human into a cardiac arrest. He knew exactly what was going to happen to her. He still remembered how Brenna's brother Hagen, a fearsome warrior, came to him after his first transformation describing every horrible moment of it with tears in his eyes.

The only thing he could do at that moment was to be there for her; run with her once she'd turn and prevent her from killing anybody. Having to go through such drastic and painful transformation and losing control of her body was traumatic enough without adding the guilt and remorse over killing innocent people into the mix.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by another one of her anguished screams that were tearing his heart to pieces, as every single bone in her body started to break, and soon enough her eyes turned and stayed golden-yellow while her canines started extending as she began convulsing in the last stages of her transformation.