History Repeats Itself...Kind Of

Sophia's P.O.V.

December

We only had a handful of days until Christmas Day. The holiday season used to be one of my favourite times of the year but in recent times, it became tainted with something awful that happened to me when I was only fifteen. Something I wish I could forget ever happened. Something I tried not to dwell on or think about much.

Because of what happened to me, I tended to heavily smoke this time of year. Therefore, Damon was keeping an annoyingly closer eye on me. He knew all about it. The trauma. The cigarettes. It was my only way of coping and dealing with the pain it brought me. It gave me something else to do. Damon didn't approve. He said there were healthier ways I could deal with my problems, but I wasn't keen on seeking them out. Talking to counsellor? Yeah, no thanks.

Since that day he brought me to the warehouse, most of our sessions together became about sharpshooting. It wasn't something the Academy necessarily wanted or needed novices learning. Damon explained to me why he learnt it in the first place.

"Alberta suggested it," he had said. "I was seventeen; it was over summer. I went home to stay with my grandmother in Bulgaria and Alberta suggested that I learn sharpshooting. She thought me focusing on learning a new skill might help me work through my grief but I later found out she had an ulterior motive for it."

"What was the ulterior motive?" I had asked.

"Between you and me Soph. This can't be heard by other ears," he had said first. He leaned in closer and dropped his voice. Even though we were alone in the warehouse. "The Guardian Council have an arrangement with the Alchemists when it comes to the humans assisting Strigoi."

To me, it wasn't all that surprising. Of course they'd have to have an action plan. "What is the arrangement?"

"If on the field, a sharpshooter sees that any humans assisting Strigoi are a threat, the idea is to injure them. Normally, it is not for the dhampirs to worry about those humans but the Strigoi have become more vicious in the last twenty years with the uprising of spirit and the vaccine and what have you. Strigoi numbers are dropping and they're becoming desperate. Those humans being promised to be awakened need to be carefully injured, not killed. Then the Alchemists use their special chemicals and potions to help the humans forget Strigoi—and other kinds of vampires—exist."

"They use compulsion on them?" I queried.

"Yes. A necessity. In all cases you should try to avoid hurting any humans unless they are a serious, serious threat, then you can injure them just to bring them down and the Alchemists will take care of the rest," he finished.

"It makes sense, I guess," I started slowly. "Better to injure them where they can heal rather than kill them."

Damon agreed. "No one likes doing it and since it's looked down upon, only a small number are trained to do that kind of job. Alberta made me one of those people. It's all highly confidential information however."

"And now, you're making me one of those people too?"

He nodded. "Yes, Soph. You are one of the few that would be able to do it, and to do it right."

"Do my parents know? Do they know you're a sharpshooter? Do they know you're training me to be one?"

"Yes, they know I'm a sharpshooter. And no, no one knows that I'm teaching you this," he confirmed.

We were unsure how much time Damon might have left at the Academy, so that's why three out of four of our weekly sessions were about sharpshooting. I still had plenty of time left in my schedule to work on the rest of my normal training.

This afternoon was a regular sparring session, no sharpshooting work today. I think our sparring days were one of my favourites with Damon. I couldn't pinpoint exactly why. It just felt good and reminded me of the early days.

"Have you ever had to do it?" I asked him during our second round.

"Do what, Soph?" He neatly dodged a blow I aimed. I wasted no time in attempting to land another one. Speed was one of my strengths and luckily, my move worked and I landed my hit on him.

He saw my fist curl and come up and quickly grabbed my wrist, holding it down. His fingers felt hot over my pulse. "Have you ever had to hurt a human?"

I yanked my wrist of his grasp, quickly swivelled and elbowed him in the sternum. "Yes." He grabbed me around the waist for my elbow dig, and threw us onto the ground, tackling me down. We grappled and fought, each trying to gain the upper hand.

"Do you think that's maybe why—"

My question was interrupted and our fight halted as a blaring bell rang out across all the speakers in the school. We jumped up as one, faces serious and impassive. Every single person in this school knew what this sound meant and what they needed to do.

Stay where you are.

Lock the doors.

Close the blinds.

Shove something up against the doors.

Hide.

Do not make a sound.

We were going into lockdown.

I turned to Damon, looked up at him with much admiration behind my eyes. I committed those fierce, piercing unique eyes to memory. The colour of the ocean on a bright, sunny day. The azure hue that was unique even amongst all the shades of blue eye colours. I committed to memory that dark, dark hair. How it was a striking balance against the sharpness of the blue. He was lightness and darkness at the same time. Fire and ice. All at once.

What was also worthy to note however was how earnestly he regarded me. Like I was Queen of the world. Like I could do anything.

He spoke first. "Come with me."

I blinked. "What?"

He didn't explain any further, he simply grabbed my hand in his big, rough one and led us out of the gym, switching off the lights. I clung to him, and the tightness of his grasp told me everything I needed to know: do not let go of him.

"Damon. There's Strigoi on campus?" I asked as we ran together towards the guardian meeting point in emergencies like this. I wasn't entirely sure why he wasn't letting go of me.

"Not quite. No one can break the spirit ward so the school is still safe. The Strigoi are probably lurking the border. Far, far too close for comfort."

"Why am I coming with you?"

"Because you can fight," he said strongly.

I stopped. Emergency or no. Strigoi or no. I actually froze in my tracks, drawing us to a stumbled halt. "What the fuck do you mean 'I can fight'?"

Damon faced me, hands gripping my shoulders. He gazed at me squarely. "You are ready."

I shook my head, ready to argue back that I wasn't ready. He didn't allow me and cut off any protests. He grabbed my elbow and began running again.

"I am several months away from graduation! We haven't even done field experience yet!" I exclaimed.

"Those two marks on your neck are already your field experience. You didn't get them for nothing!"

"Damon—"

"There are not enough guardians and Moroi magic fighters to take down however many Strigoi are on the other side of those wards. We both know you can do this."

"There's no way in hell Stan is going to let me leave the wards," I pointed out.

"He will," Damon replied adamantly.

I couldn't begin to understand or process the meaning of all of this. Strigoi—Strigoi!—were virtually metres away from us. Surrounding our school. My second home. My family! My Nadya, my Sacha. Aliya. Anastasia. Anastasia. A Dragomir. A Dragomir—three of them, in fact—were right under the Strigoi's noses and damn them, they knew it. My family and "cousins" were more than enough to make me fight. Hell, even if they weren't here I would still fight if they let me. I don't know what made Damon so confident that he could rope me out of the wards to help but I didn't stop him. I could help. I wanted to help.

I was unable to ponder any longer on this as we reached our destination with the rest of the school guardians. They were gearing themselves up and Stan was barking out orders.

At first, no one noticed me. I just sidled into the back of the group alongside Damon. Once Stan starting sorting everyone into groups and leaders, he did a double-take when he saw me.

"Belikov! What are you doing here? You should be in the dormitory!" he yelled. Everyone swivelled their eyes to me.

Damon cleared his throat. "I brought her along." Stan's face transformed into complete and utter outrage. "She can fight, Alto. She can help us. Every single person here knows she is one of the few novices capable. And we need as much manpower over those wards as we can muster up."

Slowly, some grim faces nodded, reluctantly agreeing. They didn't like it one bit but they also knew Damon was right.

Stan deliberated for a moment before giving a resolute nod. In an undertone to me, he said, "Your parents are going to kill me."

I shrugged. "My Mom can't really talk, can she?"

Stan continued yelling out his list of orders. A couple guardians made calls to some of my classmates on what needed to be covered in the meantime.

Whilst I suited up, Damon pulled me aside. To everybody else, it would seem like a mentor giving his student a pep talk. Some final tips and advice. To me, I knew this was personal.

He grabbed my forearm and pulled me close to him. He wore an expression on his face that I had never witnessed before. It was a special kind of mix of worry and concern. Just for me. His friend Sophia. Not his student.

"There is nothing I want more than to protect you and throw you into the church because I know that is the safest place on this entire campus for you," he said in a low tone.

"Damon, I'm going to be okay. And so are you," I told him firmly.

In spite of everything happening, he allowed himself a little proud smile. "See? That right there is why I took you with me." He gave a slight shake of his head. "I believe in you and I know you can take down those Strigoi without batting a fucking eye. But I'd be lying too if I said there wasn't a small part of me that wishes you wouldn't fight, so that you'd be guaranteed safe."

Something in me marvelled at his feelings of protectiveness.

The entire time I've known Damon, he's always carried two stakes and two guns on him. They were pocketed in his famous black leather jacket. He reached inside his jacket now and handed me one of his silver stakes. He placed it in my hand, wrapping my fingers around the hilt. His fingers remained over mine for a brief second. "Be safe, Milana."

I gasped. It was the first time he's ever used my Russian—technically, legal—name. The Russian rolled off his tongue so easily. "You've never called me that."

He played it off with a cute twist of his lips. His lips parted, ready to say more when Stan began speaking again.

It was time.

We trekked out into groups. I was to stay with Damon at all times and was at the last line of our squad. If anything too dangerous was to occur, my direct orders were to run back behind the wards.

We headed out. Our group was the last one to leave the wards.

Hi guys! Thanks again for reading 3 I hope you enjoyed.
A sneaky hint for you is our favourite couple make an appearance next. Mama Roza & Daddy Dimitri!
See you in the next one xxx