Chapter Forty-One: Raid Vaziri

Present day

Border of NC and VA

"Argh, why am I drunk?!" Raid's elbows slipped forward on the bar counter as he slapped the palms of his hands over his face, causing him to wobble on his stool. Phoenix and Adam guarded either side of him, while further along the bar, Gabe and Zara were betting whether one of them was going to catch him if he fell.

Given this was the second time Phoenix was about to explain this to Raid, he spoke slower. "I already told you. You started hitting the drinks at the same time Stef's blood was fresh in your system. Vampire blood helps metabolise alcohol quicker, but you continued to pound back the drinks after its healing properties began wearing off. You can't outdrink vampires, Raid."

"I won't remember that, write it down for me," Raid groaned, lowering his head so his hands now slid through his hair. He scanned either side of the bar from between the crook of each elbow. "Where's Stef?"

"Again, she's still in the meeting room with Flick, they're helping Winifred and Ava work through things," Phoenix told him.

Raid dropped his hands down firmly on the counter, drunken determination lighting up his face. "I need to tell her how I feel about her." He barely finished the final word, the breath instantly knocked out of him as he stumbled off the stool and flung his arms over the counter to stop himself falling, the curved edge hitting him against the chest.

As Zara held out her hand to Gabe for her winnings, Gabe countered, "Technically he caught himself."

Adam looked Raid in the face as he pulled himself upright. "That would be the worst idea. You're not in a good state right now."

"You don't understand, I need to confess," Raid pleaded, his palms against Adam's chest, both to support himself and in supplication. He realized the placement of his hands and, with a gasp, found himself with another idea. He looked down at the ground, decided on a direction, and started lowering himself down. "I need to pray."

"No, you don't," Adam decided, pulling him up by his underarm. "I'll wake you up with me for Fajr Salah, but right now you can't pray while drunk, you haven't performed Wudu, and that direction is Miami, not Mecca. Sit back down, drink water, coffee, anything other than bourbon."

Raid groaned as he returned to his seat and Zara handed him an open bottle of water. Yells drew his attention to across the opposite side of the room where a crowd was forming around the dance floor. The yells turned into cheers as soon as a thud was heard from beyond the row of backs. Someone had landed on the floor. "What's going on over there?" he asked, carefully aiming the bottle to his lips to take a mouthful of water. "Sounds like fighting."

"It's not fighting," Zara clarified. "It's a magic duel – or rather a supernatural pissing contest – between witches."

"Is Cristian involved?"

"He's always involved," Zara confirmed.

Raid's head nod was more of a head bob. He passed the bottle back to Zara. "Okay," he said, holding onto the counter with one hand as he eased himself into standing once again. "I'm game."

Unfortunately a few witches spotted Raid take a few uneven steps towards them before Phoenix caught his wrist and forcefully tugged him back. Raid slammed into Phoenix on the return swing but managed to stay upright. "You're not game, but you are child's play right now," Phoenix cautioned him quietly, noticing one of the witches push between the crowd to speak to Cristian, gesturing back in their direction. "Cristian secretly has Splits with Gideon during these duels. His power has been amplified; he'd beat you even if you were sober."

Raid feigned an overdramatic gasp, not intimidated, discouraged or even surprised by the revelation.

"Vaziri!" Cristian shouted, moving out from the crowd, eyeing Raid curiously. "You looked like you were about to join us in a duel?"

Raid swung his head towards him, raising his eyebrows. That sounded like an invitation.

Phoenix gripped Raid's arm tightly in warning.

Then a cell phone vibrated on the bar counter, cutting the silence in the air.

Raid looked back at it. Nobody was picking it up. It had to be his. "Sorry, Cristian, urgent call." He saluted him sloppily as he headed back towards the bar with Phoenix, who sighed in relief. "Rain check."

Grabbing hold of the phone, Raid recognized it as Stef's. Blinking a couple of times to ensure that he was reading the display correctly, he also recognized that the call was indeed urgent. Urgent for him anyway. "I need to give this to Stef," Raid said, taking the phone and striding away from the bar, rounding the corner to head down a hallway.

"The meeting room is in the other direction, Raid!" Phoenix yelled, shaking his head in frustration. "Don't head too far or you'll lose connection, we are between time periods at the moment in case you've forgotten!"

The moment Raid was out of sight, a low muttering came from the hallway which piqued Gabe's interest. He focused his hearing to listen to the sound Raid was making. Then his eyes widened. "He's doing a fucking spell!"

Gabe and Phoenix sped towards the open doorway that led into the narrow hallway. They slammed to a stop at the invisible barrier. It was warded shut.

Raid grinned at them from the opposite side, giving them a teasing wave. "I remembered Stef's spell," he gloated. "See, I'm not that drunk." He swiped across the screen, answering the call, and held the phone to his ear. "Hellooooo, Mr Salvatore!"

"Oh, fuck..." Phoenix uttered, frozen, his mouth hanging open.

"Get Gideon now," Gabe demanded, shoving him into action. "Get him to unlock this spell."

When Damon's tone indicated that he didn't appreciate the chirpiness, Raid immediately switched it off. "Actually, Stef's busy right now, but that's okay because there's something I really need to get off my chest." Raid staggered further down the darkened hallway, waving off Gabe's rapid protests behind him. Reaching the quietest spot he was going to get, he finally took a deep breath, rested back against the wall, and raised his face towards the ceiling. There was no going back. He needed this. He had to get this out. "I'm in love with your daughter, sir," he gushed, pinching his eyes closed, ready for a barrage of abuse.

A second "Oh, fuck..." now came from Gabe who overheard the confession from the end of the hallway, just as Gideon was being brought over by Phoenix to help undo the spell.

"Who the hell is this?" Damon spat from the other end of the line.

Had he not told him? Perhaps he should have started with that. "It's Raid Vaziri, sir."

"You've never called me 'sir' a day in your life," Damon scoffed. "Are you drunk?"

Raid's back slid down the wall until he was sat on the floor, his knees bent in front of him. This wasn't the kind of grilling he was expecting. His confession hadn't even been acknowledged yet. He was starting to get annoyed. "Of course I'm drunk, I'm in love with your daughter," he repeated firmly, "and I know you hate me and don't think I'm good enough for her, but I'm calling you 'sir' so maybe you'll go easy on me."

A deep sigh came from the other end of the line. Raid looked back to where Gideon was now trying, unsuccessfully, to remove the ward from the doorway. He heard him mention something about the spell being unique to Stef.

Damon finally spoke. "Why haven't I heard this from her?"

"Because she doesn't know," Raid admitted. "I thought if I could win you over first, it would boost my confidence. Do you prefer flowers or jewelry?"

Damon ignored the joke. Another painful moment of silence followed. "How long have you felt this way?"

"Years," Raid simplified. It probably wasn't the right time to mention that he'd also loved her in a past life. How could he share that kind of history with her and not have the guts to tell her how he felt? He tried to blame it on timing, but the fact was, he was a disappointment to everyone – his father, his cousin, his religion, his community – and right now he was seeking reassurance from the most difficult man to ever get approval from. His voice quietened. "I bet you think I'm such a coward."

"A coward?" Damon expressed quizzically. "Do you realize why I'm calling my daughter this late? My wife comes home in ten minutes and I haven't managed to get a chocolate ice cream stain out of a silk bedspread after she told me not to eat in bed a thousand times. I've locked myself in the laundry room until I fix this. It didn't even have a lock. I installed it right before I called."

"I didn't know Stef was so domesticated," Raid admitted.

"She isn't," he stated. "She bought her mother the damn thing and I need to know where she got it from so I can toss this one out and buy a new one. But that's beside the point. I love my wife and she scares me. She's sick? Scares me. She's crying? Scares me. She's late home? Scares me. She looks at me with those crossed arms and the two little creases between her eyebrows? Scares me. So if the thought of admitting to Stef how you feel about her didn't scare you a little, I would doubt you even loved her... and, believe me, I've been in that situation too."

"So your wife –?"

"Rejected me more times than I can count!" Damon announced energetically.

"I don't think that's as reassuring as you think it is."

"Oh, suck it up, you think the rejection stops once you get married? All those throw blankets and throw cushions wives buy? It's so they can throw you out of the bedroom and onto the couch whenever you've messed up. Listen, I'm no more worthy of my wife than you are my daughter, but if you can't face your fear of disappointing her, you definitely can't handle a Gilbert woman."

"And you face your fear... by hiding in the laundry room?"

"Did I say I know how to handle a Gilbert woman?" Damon hissed defensively.

Hearing further commotion, Raid's eyes darted towards the doorway, where Stef was now standing – having been dragged from the meeting room – her palms against the ward, chanting quietly, while still managing to look rightfully pissed that Raid was holding a drunken conversation with her father on her phone. He was running out of time.

Raid pressed the phone closer to his ear. "So what should I do?"

"Easy," Damon responded. "Wait until you're sober, take her on a long walk, bite the bullet and pour your heart out. If she doesn't break it, then we'll go on a long walk and I'll show you where I'll bury your body if you ever break hers."

Stef was then through the door and marching towards Raid.

"Oh shit!" Raid exclaimed, digging his heels into the floor to stand up. His urgency and imbalance caused his heels to skid and instead he landed flat on his back on the floor. Stef stopped at his feet, glaring down at him. Now the lesser of two scary Salvatores, Raid continued speaking into the phone. A panicked whisper. "Your daughter's here. She looks angry."

"Crossed arms? Two creases between the eyebrows?" Damon checked.

"Yep."

"Welcome to my world, kid," Damon deadpanned. "You think you can handle it?"

Raid looked Stef over, his heart thudding in his chest for all the right reasons. "Hopefully for the rest of my life."

"I hope so too," Damon admitted begrudgingly. "Now give her the damn phone before she ends yours sooner than you'd like."

Raid dropped his head back onto the floor as he held out the phone for Stef to snatch from him, which she swiftly did. A smile tugged at his lips. Maybe he was wrong, but it felt like he had just won over Damon Salvatore.

Stef put the phone to her ear, her voice nervous but terse. "Dad, what happened? What did Raid say to you?"

"Oh, just the usual drunken ramblings. Can fish swim upside down? What dinosaur is the coolest? Are penguins cuter than pandas? That kind of thing." Damon segued quickly onto his reason for calling. "Sweetheart, your mom gets home any second, where did you buy the silk bedsheets from?"

Stef groaned. "You ate in bed again, didn't you, dad?"

"Just living life on the edge as a married man," Damon justified. "Now... bedsheets?"

"Luckily for you, I bought a second set for exactly this reason," Stef sighed. "They're in the storage compartment under my bed in my old room."

Damon let out a whoop of relief. "Stefanie, you just saved my life."

"Well, that balances things out then, since I'm about to end one." Stef raised her eyebrow at Raid, who remained on the floor submissively, awaiting his fate.

Damon unexpectedly cut in. "Don't give Raid a hard time. He needed to talk."

"With you?" Stef sputtered in surprise. "Am I in an alternate universe or are you actually defending Raid for once?"

Damon's tone became firmer. "Honey, I'm serious. Go easy on him."

Stef's temper evaporated into bewilderment as she uttered softly, "Okay, I will," and ended the call. Raid had drunkenly hijacked her father's call to her and he was okay with that? More than okay with it... he seemed to actually like Raid now. She looked down once again at Raid's flat, relaxed form, spread across the floor. His complacent expression, his barely visible smile, his... relief?

Stef shook her head, baffled. What on earth did they talk about?