The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unseen

by L. J. Smith

  They looked like a bunch of townie dads, Elena had time to think, but it didn’t matter. She’d seen enough vampires to know they could have started out as anyone. Two had stakes, and one carried a machete, its blade gleaming wickedly.

  The one with the machete swung it at Stefan, his teeth bared with rage, and Elena gasped in surprise as Stefan jerked back, blood streaming down his arm. Zander tackled Stefan’s attacker from behind, low and fast, changing forms as he cannoned into the back of the guy’s legs, and they fell in a tangle of fur and limbs. The machete clattered onto the rooftop beside them.

  Stefan, his wound already closing, grabbed the next attacker by the arm and flung him in the air like a rag doll. The guy landed with a thud at the edge of the roof as Meredith stepped smoothly forward to strike him with her stave. At the edge of the roof, Jack drew his gun.

  The third man, tall and blond, reached for the machete, swinging it up with an easy grip. Jack fired his gun, but the man kept coming, machete raised in one hand and a stake in the other.

  “Wait!” Stefan called. “Stop!” He was staring in horror at the guy he had thrown across the roof, who was clambering to his feet slowly, blood streaming down his face from a head wound. The man with the machete snarled and charged toward Meredith, his shirt darkening with his own blood.

  Stefan reached out and held him back, pinning his arms and forcing the man to drop the machete and the stake. Zander held his opponent by the back of the throat and shook him a little, growling.

  “They’re humans,” Stefan said. “They’ve been Influenced; they’re not responsible for what they’re doing.”

  The blood-soaked guy charged, but Jack grabbed him and held his arms firmly behind his back, as he struggled and kicked. All three kept fighting without pause, wrenching away from their captors ceaselessly, even though they were clearly helpless against them. Elena could see now what Stefan had sensed with his Power: Their auras were curiously clouded, as if they weren’t really aware of what was happening.

  “What should we do?” Trinity asked, distressed.

  “Let me try,” Stefan said. He shifted so that he was holding the blond guy firmly still, face-to-face. The man snarled and tried to lunge at him, not flinching even when Stefan dug his fist into the bleeding bullet wound to stop him. Elena saw Stefan’s gaze flicker down to the wound and back again, the almost imperceptible flare of his nostrils as the scent of fresh blood hit him. Then he swallowed and focused, locking his eyes on the guy’s.

  “You don’t want to do this,” he said softly. “You want to stop and go home.” He was trying to use his Power to break the Influence, Elena could tell, but it wasn’t working. The man’s aura grew grayer and more clouded as Stefan spoke, and he fought harder against him. Stefan tried using his Power on the others, one after the other, but it was no use.

  “I can’t break it,” he admitted finally. “They’ve been Influenced by someone really Powerful.”

  Jack nodded. “Solomon. He’s sending you a message. He knew we wouldn’t kill the humans, and that they couldn’t beat us. He wanted to show you how Powerful he is.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” Zander said thoughtfully. Back in human form, he rubbed at his jaw as if it were sore, working it slowly. “I might be able to break the compulsion enough to get these guys to tell us the truth.” He turned the bearded man with the head wound to face him, keeping a steady, gentle grip on him. Zander was so laid-back, Elena sometimes forgot how inhumanly strong he was. But now she couldn’t help seeing how easily Zander controlled his captive, even though the guy fought and thrashed, his eyes stretching wide and his teeth bared.

  Zander rested his chin on the guy’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, pressing their chests together. Turning his head to face into his captive’s neck, he breathed steadily and deeply. After a moment, Elena realized Zander was growling softly, deep in his throat.

  At first, the guy fought harder, rearing away, but Zander only pulled him closer, blood from his face smearing across Zander’s own cheek. The hair on Zander’s arms was growing longer and thicker, Elena realized, turning to white fur again. His shoulders hunched and his jaw lengthened.

  Zander wasn’t changing fully this time, she saw, but he was somewhere between a wolf and a man now. Roy and Alex glanced anxiously at each other, but no one moved.

  Finally, Zander’s captive seemed to give up and grew still, his head hanging down against Zander’s shoulder. His aura had calmed, Elena saw, its natural soft yellow color breaking through in patches.

  Then Zander spoke, his voice half a growl, half human speech. “Why are you here?”

  The guy was panting in time with Zander’s breaths, and his answer seemed to be pulled out of him in gasps. “To kill the girl,” he said. “Kill everyone with her. Don’t give up.”

  “Who told you to do this?” Zander asked. The guy panted against him, not answering, and Zander’s voice dropped an octave, the growling note increasing. “Who was it?”

  The guy thrashed once more and then went limp, supported only by Zander’s arms around him, holding him up. “Didn’t know him,” he panted. “Some guy. He was tall.” He licked his lips. “Yellow eyes like a coyote. He wanted us to meet him on the hills north of campus two nights from now. Midnight under the full moon. Bring the girl’s head, or we’ll suffer.”

  Elena caught her breath and looked at the others. Jack’s eyes were wide, a smile beginning to play around the edges of his mouth, and Trinity was biting her lip. Stefan had grown very still and thoughtful.

  Zander relaxed, shifting the guy’s weight, and his captive went limp against him. “I don’t think he has anything else to tell us,” he said. “He smells like apples, though. They all do. Probably they work here at the orchard.”

  It took Elena a moment to catch his meaning, but then it dawned on her. “If the scent came from them, the orchard might have nothing to do with Solomon,” she said.

  Alaric cocked an eyebrow. “At least if they were compelled to break into your apartment to destroy the stave and kill your cat, it probably means Solomon can’t come in without an invitation.”

  Elena shrugged. That wasn’t very comforting, not if Solomon could send people in after her, and not if his magic could infiltrate her apartment. She thought of the ice cracking across her windows, and shivered.

  “Would sending humans work? Could they kill you?” Meredith asked, looking at Elena. “They’re human, but they’ve been Influenced. Surely that wouldn’t count as not being supernatural.”

  Elena shrugged again. She didn’t know, but she didn’t really want to test the theory.

  “It’s irrelevant,” Stefan said. His voice was sharp. “They’d never get to Elena.”

  “The important thing is that now we know where Solomon will be in two nights,” Jack said softly.

  Stefan smiled. “Maybe we can get the jump on him this time.”

  It wasn’t much, not yet, but it was the first crack they’d found in Solomon’s armor. It was a beginning.

  Deep in Germany’s Black Forest, Damon sank down onto the trunk of a fallen tree. Dampness seeped through the legs of his expensive jeans, now rumpled and smeared with mud.

  “I hate this,” he complained, dropping his head into his hands. He was dirty and exhausted and, most of all, hungry. Thick, dark conifers rose around them, their heavy branches blocking out the sky.

  Leaning against a nearby tree, Katherine glanced wearily at him without answering. Her light blond hair, usually smooth and perfect, was a tangled mess, and there was dirt on her face. Still, she was in better shape than Damon, he thought bitterly. At least she had been able to Influence people to let her feed.

  They’d been fleeing across Europe for days, losing themselves in countless city crowds. Budapest, Paris, Berlin. But wherever they went, the packs of vampires had found them.

  “We can’t keep running,” Damon said. “Maybe it’s time we make a stand, choose a spot we can defend and take out as many of them as we
can. We need to figure out who’s behind this.”

  Katherine shook her head. “I don’t know about you, but dying twice was enough for me. It’s smarter to keep moving. We’ll lose them eventually.”

  Damon felt a red wall of rage rising up in his mind. He was too old, too experienced, to be herded around like an animal, running from place to place in fear. Whoever was doing this, he wanted to rip them apart, feel their blood and flesh rend in his hands and between his teeth. “It would make me feel better if I killed someone,” he muttered.

  “Heavens.” Katherine’s tone was mocking. “Are you starting to regret the deal you made for little Elena? How does it go? You can’t feed unless you romance them first?”

  “Stop it,” Damon said, suddenly feeling more tired than angry. “I’ll kill whoever’s behind this, that I promise you. The deal doesn’t apply to vampires.”

  “Poor Damon,” Katherine said, a new, softer tone in her voice. When Damon looked up, she was standing right in front of him, looking at him with clear blue eyes—a shade lighter than Elena’s, his mind automatically categorized, but not really so different. She raised her wrist to her own mouth and bit down, opening her vein, and the forest was flooded with the rich scent of her blood. “Here, drink,” she said, holding her arm out to him. Damon stared at her, and her mouth tightened in annoyance. “You can’t keep going without anything to eat,” she snapped. “You’re a liability like this.”

  “Well, I’d hate to be a burden,” Damon said with a shrug, taking her wrist and bringing it to his lips.

  He hadn’t tasted Katherine’s blood since she first made him a vampire, and he was unprepared for the rush of memories it brought back to him. A delicate girl, hardly more than a child, appearing at dusk in the rooms of his father’s palazzo. Her hair was a fine light gold, shining in the candlelight as she sank into a low curtsy. Her skin was so pale that he could see the fine blue tracery of her veins when she reached out for him, and her lips were cool when he lowered his head to meet them.

  Damon’s eyes were burning when he let go of Katherine’s hand. Her pale pink lips parted in surprise, and he wondered if she, too, had just been transported back in time. His heartbeat quickened as he felt Katherine’s blood running through him, warming him and bringing him strength. It wasn’t as good as feeding on a human, but it would keep him going for a while.

  “Thank you, darling,” he said dryly.

  Katherine’s voice was light. “This whole situation should teach you not to make deals with Guardians. They’re tricky, I hear.”

  Damon was opening his mouth to answer when a sound in the distance made him pause. He cocked his head to listen and heard it again: the crackle of footsteps on dry leaves, coming toward them, fast. “They’ve found us,” he hissed.

  He pulled his Power around him quickly, fiercely concentrating on the sensation of his own form dissolving and compacting. His bones thinned and reformed within him, changing shape, his fingers spreading into wings as his toes curled into claws. He had a moment to feel grateful for Katherine’s blood: This was difficult to manage when he wasn’t feeding regularly.

  Then Damon, in the form of a crow, stretched his glossy black wings and rose past tree branches into the sky. He could feel the currents of air behind him shifting as Katherine took silent flight in the shape of a snowy owl.

  They had escaped their enemies once more, for now. But Damon knew they couldn’t keep going forever. Sooner or later, they would have to fight.

  #TVD11KatherinetheTease

  It was a warm, clear night. An almost-full moon shone overhead, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine rose up to Stefan on the balcony outside their apartment.

  But Stefan wasn’t here to appreciate the beauty of the evening. He sent out tendrils of his Power, questing, trying to sense whatever was out there. Why was he so weak?

  Maybe Damon was right; maybe it was worth drinking human blood regularly for the strength it would give him. Stefan drank Elena’s blood sometimes, and she drank his, but it was an act of love, not a feeding. He didn’t take enough to make him strong. He swiped his hand across his face, irritated with himself, and tried to focus.

  He couldn’t sense anything. There was an Old One after Elena, who knew the loophole in her immortality and was sending humans after her. Stefan gripped the edge of the balcony and felt the metal begin to buckle beneath his hand. Conscientiously, he forced his fingers to relax. They didn’t want to lose their security deposit.

  Was that a footstep below, too light for human ears to hear? He froze, listening. The night was alive with a thousand sounds: insects buzzing, the soft beats of a bat’s wings, the distant sound of traffic.

  Again, almost right below, a footstep on the grass. Without stopping to think, Stefan launched himself over the rail, his canines lengthening as he leaped.

  The warm, solid body beneath him let out a huff of surprise as he hit it, both of them slamming down on the ground. Human, he automatically classified, even as he reached for the throat.

  It didn’t matter. Human or not, he had to keep this person from Elena. But the realization slowed him a little, long enough for the figure underneath him to twist and kick hard at Stefan’s chest. Stefan slammed him back onto the ground, baring his fangs—and then realized the person beneath him was Jack. For an instant, he didn’t think he could stop. He didn’t want to stop. Jack’s heart was pounding, and Stefan’s canines were sharp with anticipation. It would be easy.

  He let go and rolled to one side. Jack lay flat on the ground, panting, one hand pressed against his chest.

  “You’re heavy,” he said finally.

  “I’m sorry.” Stefan climbed to his feet and offered Jack a hand up. “I didn’t realize it was you. I’ve been a little tense lately.”

  He could still hear Jack’s heart beating, hard and fast, as he rose. Stefan averted his eyes from the vein at the side of Jack’s neck, ignoring the thought of the rich blood rushing quickly beneath the skin. He needed to go out to the woods and feed properly, but guarding Elena was more important.

  Jack brushed off his pants, which were covered with dirt. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m just patrolling, keeping an eye out.”

  “I attacked too quickly,” Stefan said, guilt slamming heavily into him. “I should have made sure of who you were before I jumped on you.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it.” Jack waved a dismissive hand, although Stefan noticed he winced as he cautiously rolled his neck, checking to see if he was injured. “Guarding Elena is the important thing. Plus, I could totally take you down if I had to.”

  Stefan smiled dutifully at the joke, then stared out into the darkness, watching and listening. Far off, a car started up and drove in the opposite direction. There was no one else nearby that he could sense. “He’s all I can think about,” he said. “Solomon, I mean.” Jack nodded, and Stefan went on. “We’d gotten to where the Old Ones weren’t coming after Elena anymore. I was hunting them instead. I thought all this was over.”

  His hands curled into fists, and he felt his canines press sharp against his lips again, ready to bite. “We don’t know where he is, and he’s coming after Elena. I want to rip out his throat.” Stefan glanced at Jack, feeling oddly ashamed at the admission.

  Jack patted Stefan lightly on the shoulder. “This is normal, Stefan,” he said reassuringly. “You feel this way because you’re a warrior. Even though you’re a vampire, you’re a hunter, too. That means you’re always prepared for a fight. And you have something worth fighting to protect.”

  Stefan looked up at the darkened windows of their apartment. Extending his Power, he could feel Elena sleeping deeply, her dreams troubled, but her breathing even. Jack was right, he thought. Elena was Stefan’s to protect. She was worth fighting for.

  “So the patient came in complaining of chest pains, but when we hooked him up to the EKG, he told us he’d changed his mind and that the pain was in his legs.” Jasmine came out of her bedroom, holding a long g
olden necklace around her neck. “Can you fasten this for me?”

  “Uh-huh,” Matt said, looking out the window at the darkening sky. He had promised to meet Elena and the others at Dalcrest at nine, so they could canvass the hills around campus before midnight, when Solomon would show to meet the humans he’d influenced.

  Matt knew he should leave, but he liked it here. Jasmine’s apartment was warm, filled with texture and color: handmade bowls in the kitchen, red-painted walls with heavy woven hangings in the living room, a velvety sofa. A cozy nest, far from violence and vampires and hunters.

  “Matt?” Jasmine said, and the part of Matt’s mind that wasn’t already out the door registered that she’d said something a moment before.

  “What?” he asked. Jasmine arched her brows meaningfully and wiggled the necklace a little. “Oh.” Matt moved her heavy fall of hair out of the way so he could work the catch. Her skin was honey golden and very smooth, and she smelled sweet. He stroked the back of her neck, once, twice, watching the tendrils of hair fall back into place around his fingers. “Why are you getting dressed up?”

  Jasmine frowned. “Because we’re going out.” At Matt’s blank look, she rolled her eyes. “Honestly, where is your mind today? I swear, you haven’t heard a thing I’ve said in the last hour.”

  Matt could feel his cheeks flushing, his ears getting hot. She was right; he hadn’t been listening. “I’m really sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I promised to meet Elena and Stefan tonight.”

  “That’s okay,” Jasmine said, shrugging. “I’d have liked to have you to myself, but I haven’t seen them in ages.” Looking at Matt’s expression, her face fell and she added hesitantly. “If that’s all right?”

  “I’m sorry,” Matt said. Her mouth trembled, and he hastened to add, “It’s just, there’s some stuff going on with them. They wanted to talk to me alone about it. Just this time.”

  “Oh.” Jasmine wrapped a finger in her long curls, tugging them straight. Her mouth was still soft and hurt. “Okay, well, call me tomorrow.” She said it breezily, but Matt could tell she was upset. She knew he was lying, he realized.