The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unseen (30 page)

Damon felt his lips twist in a bitter smile at the familiar words. Alaric’s accent was terrible. Even in the universities they didn’t teach proper Latin anymore. And Damon was fairly certain that the fierce God he and Stefan had worshipped in their childhood would have no place of peace and rest for vampires. The Guardians had said, he remembered, that when a vampire died, he simply ceased to exist. Still, if the prayer comforted these children, let them have it.

Alaric finished reading the prayer, then carefully trickled a handful of dirt into Stefan’s grave.

They were all looking at Elena now, but she just stood there, her lips pressed firmly together, and didn’t step forward. She was
angry
, Damon sensed, her rage flowing through the bond that connected them.

Finally she raised her head and stared back at her friends. “No,” she said sharply. “No, I won’t say good-bye. I
do not accept this
.” She was breathing hard, and Damon felt something flutter wildly through their bond. Elena was grieving and angry and in pain, but most of all, she was terrified, frightened of losing Stefan forever. Instinctively Damon stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, cradling her safely against his chest. Her heart was beating as fast as a bird’s.

“You don’t have to say good-bye, princess,” he said. “Not if you don’t want to. But you should tell him you love him.”

Elena nodded. “Of course I do,” she said dully. “He knows that.” She pulled away from Damon, turning her back on the open grave, and walked down toward the river.

Damon looked to Alaric, Zander, and Matt. “Finish it,” he said. “She’s done.” Obediently, they picked up their shovels and began to fill in the grave. The first shovelful of earth hit the cloth around Stefan’s body with a dry, slithering sound that made Damon wince.

He followed Elena to the riverbank and stood next to her. She was staring silently down into the water, her jaw clenched tight, her hands curled into fists. Meredith, Bonnie, and Matt joined them. Bonnie linked her arm through Elena’s, and Meredith laid one hand on her shoulder, and Elena seemed to take some comfort in this.

Together, they listened to the river rushing past. After a while Bonnie said, in the puzzled voice of a hurt child, “I just don’t understand what happened.”

“Jack was a vampire,” Elena told her, her voice dull. “Why didn’t I know?”

“We should have—” Meredith began, but Damon cut her off.

“Jack was some new kind, made in a
lab
.” He felt his lip curl in distaste. “He didn’t have all the weaknesses our kind have.” He quickly explained what had happened—the business card, the lab, the research log. “He can disguise his aura, Elena. There’s no way you could have identified him. The vampires who hunted me and Katherine across Europe—he created them. He thinks he’s perfected the species, made the ultimate warriors. And now he wants to get rid of the all the existing vampires. Even Stefan.”

Elena made a small, hurt sound. They were all looking at Damon now, their eyes wide, and he knew what they were thinking.

Damon was next.

#TVD11Goodbye

T
he white lights were blinding. Meredith squinted against them and tried to struggle, but she couldn’t move.

Just the dream
, she told herself.
Just the same dream.
Things felt even more real this time: the lights brighter, the room less blurry around her. Her mouth was parched and sore. There was a sharp antiseptic smell in the air. She felt dizzy and nauseous.

It’s only a dream
, she reassured herself.
I can get through this, and then I’ll wake up safe in my own bed.

The shadowy figure moved at the edge of her vision, coming closer, and this time Meredith could see it more clearly than she ever had before. Gloved hands moving over her abdomen. A doctor in scrubs, looking down at her, face mask concealing his identity. She couldn’t feel the hands moving, but she could see them. She was so numb, as if under a local anesthetic.

Carefully, the figure drew a vial of fluid into a needle, his surgical-gloved hands moving with calm precision. Meredith couldn’t feel it as the needle slid into her arm, couldn’t move away as the doctor pressed the plunger and the fluid slid into her veins. She arched her neck, shoving her head back against the table, flinching away as far as she could.

Although she couldn’t feel the needle, the injection spread like fire across her body, her veins burning. A small, hurt gasp burst from her lips, and she tried again to get away. But she was trapped in place.

Wake up, wake up
, she thought frantically.

The figure slid his mask away from his face—and beneath was Jack, his mouth quirking into a smile. Meredith whimpered, trying to push back into the table below her.

“Meredith,” he said, running his hand across his face. “I thought that we should talk.”

“This is a dream,” Meredith said defiantly, but her voice sounded small and scared.

Jack gave a short huff of laughter. “It isn’t a dream.” He reached, affectionately, to brush a loose hair away from her face. “When you told me you drank vervain tea every night, I knew how to get to you. I substituted a combination of the medications I’ve developed and a strong sedative for your tea. It made it easy to take you for treatments. I brought you here, and then I knocked you out again to take you home.”

“What?” Meredith asked. She was having trouble drawing breath; she was panting with fear. “What treatments? Why?”

“I’m making you like me. You’re perfect,” Jack told her, and Meredith shuddered, sickened. “Hunters are the best recruits, and you’re one hell of a hunter, Meredith. Smart and quick. Strong-willed, not like Trinity, who was so easy for that Old One to compel. You’ll make an amazing vampire. When I found out your brother had been a vampire, heard rumors about you almost being changed, well.” He shrugged and smiled at her, that lovely warm smile. “It seemed like it was meant to be. Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“No,” Meredith said, blinking back hot tears. “I’m not like you. I don’t want to be a vampire.”

Jack chuckled affectionately, his hand heavy on the crown of her head. “It’s not really your decision,” he said. “The transformation is almost complete.”

#TVD11RealityBites

“Do you think he’s really gone?” Elena asked, not looking at Damon. “I mean, I came back, and so did you.”

“I don’t know, Elena.” Damon sighed. “You came back because you weren’t supposed to die, because your time hadn’t passed yet. And I never should have come back. I just got lucky.”

They were together on the apartment’s balcony, where Stefan had liked to go to think and keep watch. The late summer smell of roses was too heavy, sickly sweet and oppressive. Elena’s eyes were sore, and she rubbed at them. She was so tired of crying.

Damon lounged against the rail beside her, seeming perfectly relaxed. He had the gift of being completely still when he wanted to, without twitching and shuffling his feet like most people seemed to. It was restful to be around him, she thought. He was watching her closely, his black eyes hooded, and Elena couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“When Stefan and I were children, a long time ago,” Damon said suddenly, “he was so serious. Unlike me, he tried to do the right thing. He was my father’s good boy, and I hated him for it. He’d cover for me, though, try to protect me from my father and the punishments I always deserved.” He grimaced, a small twitch of his lips. “Stefan would get a beating for lying to protect me. I never even thanked him.”

“You were children,” she said gently.

“Protecting me always got Stefan hurt,” Damon went on, as if he hadn’t heard her. “We fought and we were apart for centuries. Without him, I lost myself.”

Elena took his hand. He felt so cold, and she rubbed her hands against his to warm it. “I was lost, too,” she said. “After my parents died, I didn’t really care about anything. I wanted to be the queen of the school, but it was just pride keeping me going. Stefan … Stefan was the first person to really
see
me, to find who I was under what I wanted everyone to see.” She felt herself tearing up again, and she pressed her face against her and Damon’s clasped hands, so that he wouldn’t see her cry. “I’m worried I’m going to get lost again.”

“I’m not going to leave you this time,” Damon told her. “If nothing else, I can look after you for Stefan.” His lips twisted in a wry little grin. “Not that you really need looking after.”

“We can look after each other,” Elena said. She was glad he was staying; there was a comfort in Damon’s presence, although it didn’t fill up the void that seemed to be growing inside her. Without Stefan, she felt so alone, one floating speck in a dark and empty universe. But Damon was alone, too, and right now they needed each other.

“And there’s another reason I need to stay,” Damon said, a new sharpness in his tone. Elena looked up at him, her attention caught. “Vengeance.” He gripped her hand tighter, and she squeezed back in response. “Jack? The vampires he’s created? We have to make them all pay.”

The dark emptiness within Elena slowly heated and began to burn. She might be lost and alone, but, if she could get revenge for Stefan’s death, her life would have purpose.

“Yes,” she told him, nodding. “Vengeance.”

Look out for #TVD12Unspoken

L. J. Smith has written a number of bestselling books and series for young adults, including
The Vampire Diaries
(now a hit TV show),
The Secret Circle
,
The Forbidden Game, Night World,
and the New York Times #1 bestselling
Dark Visions.
She is happiest sitting by a crackling fire in a cabin in Point Reyes, California, or walking the beaches that surround that area. She loves to hear from readers and hopes they will visit her updated website at
www.ljanesmith.net
.