Chapter 37:
"Actually you are," Damon snarls. I'm still pinned against the banister, but this time it's by Damon's back. As soon as he heard the voice, he turned around and stood protectively in front of me.
Damon's face not being stuck to mine allows me to see the intruder. He is a dirty blond-haired man, with tired blue eyes and a sharply pressed suit. He has a look on his face that says I know something you don't, and that irks me. It makes me want to punch him in the mouth. Of course, I believe that Damon would beat me to that by the way he's fuming.
"Hmm," The man says with a tight smile, "I see. Well, introductions should be made, am I right?"
"I don't need introductions." Damon steps back closer to me. "You're John Gilbert."
"And you're Damon Salvatore." John says grinning, "Now who's the plaything behind you." I'm about to protest at the name but Damon beats me to it.
"It's none of your concern who she is."
"Why don't you let the lady speak for herself?" John cocks his head to the right and stares right at me. I don't like it at all, "Unless you've compelled her to stay quiet. Come up here for a quick snack, Damon?"
Compelled? What does that mean?
And now way in hell am I a snack.
I push my way through Damon and stomp up to John. He looks amused—I'm pissed.
"I'll have you know that I am not a plaything," I rant in his face, "I'm not just a snack, and your ignorance is really starting to tick me off." John's eyebrows raise in question. I'm about to yell at him more, but Damon grabs my arm and tugs me away. Good thing too because I was about to slap that smile off John Gilbert's face.
"The girl talks," John says, "a lot."
"You fucking stay away from her." Damon hisses at John. He's pulled me close into his body. My back stuck with his front.
"I'm afraid I can't anymore." John muses. "She seems perfectly sane at the moment and yet she aligns herself with you. Does she even know what you are, Damon?"
"No," Damon says.
"Yes," I say quicker.
Damon's arms tighten more.
"Hmm," He seems to say that a lot, "Then I guess she's exactly like Elena. Confused, used, and ultimately—well she's going to end up dead."
It's the wrong thing to say. Threatening me like that. Especially when I have a protective, horny, and hot vampire behind me. One that seems to hate it when I'm anywhere near danger.
I can tell John knows it's the wrong thing to say too. I can tell when his eyes widen in fright from Damon's face changing. And I can tell by the silent O shape of his mouth as if he's about to scream.
But he won't scream.
He doesn't have enough time.
Because in a flash Damon's not behind me anymore. He's behind John, grabbing him by the collar of his tux. One more second and they're by the banister. Then it's just Damon by the banister, because by then he's already thrown John off the two-story drop.
And all I could think about was that Damon fulfilled his promise.
Jonathan Gilbert was no more.