Chapter Fifty-Four: Stefanie Salvatore

Present day

Mystic Falls, VA

Stef's eyes fluttered open.

Her neck ached as she turned it, facing forward, a low pendant light hanging above her.

Something was different. Where was she?

She felt drained. Her head rolled back to the side and she blinked slowly, surveying her surroundings through heavy eyelids. Wood beam ceiling, sage green walls, walnut furnishings, rows of bottles on display behind a counter that was dotted with red-cushioned bar stools. She wasn't immediately panicked. She knew this room; felt the vague recollection of her family in the back of her mind. Memories came to her, even though she was sure they weren't the ones she needed.

First, there was the renovation. Her father talked about little else for months, dominating the dinner table with lengthy descriptions of paint colors and rewiring, and how some high school cockroach he'd hired to hold the light fittings failed at keeping himself steady, fell from the stepladder, and yanked one of the hanging lights from its chain.

She returned her gaze to the light fixture. It was the one above her now.

Three chain links too short.

Then there was the grand opening, the day after Valentine's Day, the big reveal of calling the bar Saint Joe's in memory of her uncle Stefan. Only a few understood why. It was supposed to open on the thirteenth, but her father had been babysitting for Bonnie. Stef suspected that had something to do with Phoenix since her dad would only serve him tomato juice all evening. Phoenix hated tomato juice. The only reason her dad had invited him at all was because her parents combined the opening with a surprise celebration for Stef, congratulating her for getting into Oxford. Oh, and because her mother nagged him until he did.

There were memories here. Comforting memories.

But the emptiness and silence of the room was eerie, and her short-term memory fared no better. She had no idea why she was here. She certainly wasn't where she'd thought she'd be. The room she last remembered had something to do with Gabe. One of his safe houses? It was all so hazy; so easy to be wrong. Perhaps she'd dreamt it. Pushing herself up and onto her elbows, she realized how weak she felt. Her joints ached. They never normally ached, not unless she'd had a severe injury, and even then, it never lasted long. Her head was heavy, her thoughts muddled. Had she been drinking? Even if she had, it would have taken a lot of alcohol to make her feel this rough.

Two voices could be heard coming closer from behind a closed door. The door opened. The voices started getting louder, drifting down the corridor.

"If they're not dead by now, something's gone wrong."

Cristian?

"Did you find the talisman?"

Talisman?

Lorraine!

Stef quickly lowered herself back down to the table and closed her eyes, just before the two entered the room. It took that terrifying prompt for her to remember everything. Cristian and Lorraine working together. Lorraine poisoning her with her blood. Being unable to fight, unable to use her magic. Her powers, her speed, her strength: all gone. She tried to generate them again, tried to feel the familiar waves of energy course through her. But there was nothing. Not so much as a spark of power.

"She doesn't have the talisman on her." Cristian approached the table, scanning Stef carefully for any signs of alertness. Finding none, he turned back to Lorraine. "If they were dead, the transition would have startled her awake. We need to find them both. Did you take the items, like I said?"

"They're in the car." Lorraine started walking towards the exit, stopped, and spun back to him. She crossed her arms, seeing him gaze down at Stef, stroking a knuckle down her cheek. "There's eight bedrooms in that house. Do you expect me to juggle everything, or are you coming out to help?"

Cristian raised his head at her with a sneer of inconvenience, removed his hand, and reluctantly followed.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Stef rolled herself from the table and onto the floor. Her knees smacked against the hard wood and she swallowed back a cry of pain.

Holy shit, that hurt! Fuck all the drawbacks to feeling human – especially when she wasn't one.

Stef kept low to the ground as she scurried quickly towards the corridor, beside the bar. The windows were large enough to be spotted and there was no way she could escape out the front, not with them both out there. Her best hope was finding the key to the hatch that her father said he'd left down in the cellar. She had no idea where it was, but she had to try.

Where was everyone else? Where was Raid? Where was Adam? If Adam was part of this, wouldn't he be here too? His betrayal couldn't have been real. Lorraine was a vampire; she must have compelled him. But what was it Cristian had said? He expected them to be dead... he needs to find them both? Both? Did he mean Raid and Adam? It had to be them if Cristian was still set on finding the talisman. Nothing had happened to them yet, she was sure of it. Her powers were still locked away within her: untouchable, unreachable, being suffocated by something stronger. Raid and Adam were still alive, and she had to get out of here and find them.

Before her hand grabbed the door handle to the cellar, she patted down her clothes. Of course her phone was missing. There was no way of checking on them, no way of warning them. She opened the door and closed it quietly behind her, tiptoeing quickly down the stairs. The light was already on as she swerved around the corner.

She slammed to a halt, her world crashing around her. Familiar blue eyes raised and stopped on her, fear and hope spreading over her father's face.

No, no, no, NO! She'd done everything she could to keep him out of this!

She ran up to him, his body pressed against the wall. "Dad!" she cried in a choke. "I'm getting you out of here."

"Stef, you need to run," he told her, knowing her attempts to pull his limbs from the wall were futile.

A sob of helplessness bubbled up inside her chest. She needed her magic back. She couldn't free him from the spell Cristian had on him without it. "I'm not leaving you!"

"Honey, listen to me." Damon's tone was loving but commanding. She was not staying here because of him. "The spare key to the hatch is in a jar, corner of the room, top crate." He jutted his head as much as he could in its direction. "My car's parked right outside it. It's unlocked. The emergency key's taped under the seat. Drive to Bonnie's. She can get me out of this, but I need you safely out of here, understand?"

Stef nodded, tried to focus through her flowing tears, willing herself to regain a shred of the fight she used to have. She couldn't waste time weeping over the position she was in – the position they were both in – or how much she had sacrificed to prevent this from ever happening. If she got out now, maybe Cristian would see her leave. Maybe he would follow her. If she drove fast enough, he wouldn't risk using a spell to burst a tire or force her to crash. She knew the magic Cristian had pinning her father to the wall would weaken with distance. Even if Lorraine stayed, the spell might just break in time if she led Cristian far enough away. Her plan was set, but her thoughts were interrupted by something unexpected.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Damon lowered his voice in regret. It hadn't taken long for him to realize that he'd messed up. "I should have warned you."

Those words instantly dried Stef's tears. This was her fault, not his. Her father couldn't have prepared her any better for what it was like to be part of this dangerous supernatural world. She would not hear him blaming himself for what she caused. "I'm getting you out of here, Dad." She ran towards the direction of the crate, located the jar immediately, despite the shadows obscuring it, and plunged her hand inside, pinching the metal between her fingers.

She never heard them come down. She'd still been relying on her vampire hearing that she forgot no longer existed.

"Caught with your hand in the cookie jar," Cristian declared, causing Stef to freeze. "Drop it!"

"Take it, Stef!" Damon demanded, then yanked his head towards Cristian. "She doesn't need to see what you have planned for me. Let her go!"

Stef's chest tightened, a shiver running through her, and she released the key, removing her hand and turning around. She thought her father was just a hostage, a way to prevent her from leaving, a way of making her comply with whatever they had in store for her. "What plan?" she asked fearfully, a lump in her throat.

Lorraine placed a range of items on the crate beside her, keeping hold of a hunting knife and removing it from its leather sheath. "We're going to drain him of the cure."

Stef ran towards her father. She hated how slow her speed was now, but neither Cristian nor Lorraine tried to stop her. As far as they were concerned, she was a mouse cornered no matter where she ran. She raised her chin. "You'll have to kill me before I let you get to him."

Lorraine snorted a laugh. Stef's determination was endearing.

Damon spoke softly in Stef's ear. "You need to leave me. Focus on getting out..."

"Oh, she's not going anywhere," Lorraine confirmed smugly.

Cristian tried being more persuasive. He set down the four items he was holding and took a step towards her. "You want to be human again," he reminded her gently. "As soon as Adam is dead, you won't care about what happens to your father. All the pain will be gone. Raid will die and you'll take the cure because you want it. Then we can compel you to forget about all this... we can compel you to love me again. You'll no longer be a vampire."

"Not going to happen!" Stef hissed.

"She's not a vampire," Damon snapped at them. "Isn't that obvious by now?" He'd studied the way his daughter moved, how vulnerable she clearly was. They were wrong about this.

Stef turned to face her father, her features melting into shame and regret. She hadn't protected her family enough. None of the lies, none of the secrecy, had protected them. She'd failed over and over again. "I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered, pulling up the silver chain that hid her daylight pendant below her neckline, holding it for him to see. It was too little too late; she should have done this sooner. She expected to see a lot of emotions behind his eyes as he stared down at the lapis lazuli stone: disappointment, fear, resentment... even anger. But instead she was drawn down to the tremble in his chin; a struggle to hold back sadness. Out of all the emotions he could have felt, that was the one Stef feared the most – because right now she needed to be blamed for what she had done to him. So, she let loose what he was holding back, crying as she buried her face into his chest.

Damon pulled ferociously against the force pinning him to the wall, screaming at Cristian. "Damn you, let me hug my daughter!"

Indifferent to the display of emotion in front of him, Cristian dropped the magic with a flick of his hand. A human was no real threat to them anyway. But as soon as Damon's arms wrapped comfortingly around Stef, his indifference turned into a mix of envy and confusion. Not once had he ever hidden something from his father and had that kind of reaction. Forgiveness did not come so easily in his household. It usually came at the price of a fist or a belt – when his father was feeling generous. Other times, magic was used to make him suffer in ways that didn't leave bruises or scars. Of course, he knew that not every family was like this – knew Damon would never hit his daughter – but to not even be angry with her? He waited for the hug to end, his mood to change, but it never did, and it held Cristian in a state of perplexed fascination.

"Oh, Cristian," Lorraine grumbled, rolling her eyes, "you are such a softie."

"Shut up," he snapped, snatching the hunting knife from her hand. He left the soppy duo to it, turning towards the items upon the crate. He needed to find the one that would locate Raid or Adam. Lifting the knife, twisting it in his palm, he could tell it was something that would have belonged to Gabe. He used the tip of the blade to prod through the remaining items. "Did you have to bring me such obscure junk?" he complained to Lorraine.

"I'm sorry, were you planning on reselling it?" she bit back sarcastically.

None of this was helpful. A book – smutty – clearly Stef's. Not needed. A beige headscarf – clearly Zara's. Not needed. He didn't know what the hell that turquoise, tube-shaped, silicone item was, but it definitely belonged to Phoenix. Grimacing, Cristian used the knife to flick it down the back of the crate. The rest of the items – one from each remaining bedroom, and even a couple Lorraine seemed to have thrown in for good luck – couldn't be matched to anyone. A pen, a belt, ear pods, a toothbrush, an umbrella, a comb – what the hell was he meant to do with these? Would Stef be able to identify who they belonged to?

Lorraine tapped him urgently on the shoulder with the back of her hand. "You've got to listen to this." There was amusement in her voice.

Cristian glanced back briefly at Stef and Damon, who had finally broken out of their embrace, their conversation now looking less tragic and more serious. He was about to turn back again, uninterested in whatever the powerless two were plotting – he'd let Lorraine deal with it – but then he heard something surprising.

Stef's jaw drew back into her neck, her brows coming together. Her eyes never left her father's. "What do you mean 'Have I got my memories back?'"

Cristian's eyebrows raised as he spun and leaned back against the crates, crossing his arms, an intrigued smile broad across his face. Now this was interesting. "Damon Salvatore," Cristian drawled, his tone smug, "did you have your daughter compelled?"

Stef felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She kept telling herself her father wouldn't have done that, but he was tense and avoided her scrutinizing gaze – his urge to punch Cristian was strong, but the regret burning within him was even stronger. "Did you?" she asked.

Damon finally raised his eyes to hers. "Sweetheart, you told us to do it – you begged us to do it," he defended. Taking her by the shoulders, he tried to keep her focus on him. He could already sense her trying to scroll through her memories, searching for what she couldn't find. "I thought you remembered. I thought that's why you stayed away from here."

"She's not a permanently transitioned vampire yet, so any compulsion still remains under the spell," Cristian explained condescendingly. "But worry not, it only takes two deaths for her to remember everything." He then held a welcoming arm out, addressing Stef. "My love, if you would do me the pleasure of identifying an item belonging to Raid or Adam for a locator spell, you'll get those memories back much quicker."

Stef ignored him, fixing on her father. "What did you compel me to forget?" she asked him pleadingly.

Damon reached out a hand, cupping her face, his features a blend of pain and sympathy. He didn't want to tell her. Whatever it was, it was bad. Stef took a sharp breath as he opened his mouth to speak.

Lorraine straightened, holding up a finger, suddenly alerted to a sound upstairs. "We have company."

Clapping his hands together eagerly, Cristian announced, "It seems a locator spell isn't needed after all, and neither is your confession, Damon."

Stef raised her head to the footsteps above her, her heart racing. Raid!

This time Cristian's magic slammed both Stef's and Damon's backs against the wall, locking them in place. "Stefanie, your soon-to-be-dead cavalry has arrived."