The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unspoken (22 page)

In any case, it made no difference now. The important thing was Elena.

“Listen,” he said, and reached out to stroke her arm, gently reassuring her. “You’re strong as hell, princess. The strongest person I’ve ever met. You’ll do this stubborn and bull-headed, just like you’ve done everything else the whole time I’ve known you.”

He gave her his most blinding grin, and something softened in Elena’s eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment, her gaze so deeply blue, as blue as the lapis lazuli that let Damon walk in sunlight.

Something in his chest tightened, and he felt it tug toward Elena, as sure as a magnet. They were breathing in time, he realized, their chests rising and falling in perfect accord. He couldn’t resist her anymore.

He didn’t want to resist. Elena was all he wanted, all he needed. She had been since the first time he saw her, a pretty high school girl in the morning sunshine, all pink and gold and flushed with the warmth of life. Since the first time his mind brushed hers, and he realized she was more than that: strong and fierce, stubborn and proud. Perfect for him.

Slowly, giving her time to pull away, Damon slid closer. Elena didn’t back away, but held his gaze, her blue eyes almost challenging. She
wanted
this; he could feel that want burning through their bond. Gently, holding his breath, he pressed his lips to hers.

Her lips were impossibly soft and warm, the softest thing he’d ever felt. Damon’s eyes closed and he leaned closer, cupping her cheek with one hand. The connection between them throbbed with hot energy, with desire. His fingers tangled in her silky hair, and he pulled her closer still.

He could feel their auras blending. It was as if they were melting into each other. He could almost see them, the way Elena had described their auras to him, his peacock blue and rust-red, hers a soft gold. They were entwining—he could feel it. They were stronger like this, better together.

Damon thought briefly of his brother, then pushed the thought away. Stefan was
gone.
And Damon and Elena remained. He stroked Elena’s cheek, ran his hand over her shoulders, down her arm. She was
his
, he knew it as surely as he’d ever known anything. They belonged to each other.

And then, a sharp, hard jerk. All over, he felt exposed, strained. Something
pulled
at him, a brisk, insistent tug.

With a muffled gasp against Elena’s mouth, Damon realized she was drawing his aura into hers, his peacock blue slowly shading to gold. Her aura was growing bigger, brighter.

It hurt, a little, but it was somehow thrilling. The steady, draining pull made him lightheaded, made him sigh against her lips. Was this how it felt for her when he’d fed on her?

Just as when he’d fed on her, this was
love
, he was sure of it.

Damon tangled both hands in Elena’s hair, silken strands between his fingers, and tried to push his aura toward her, to give her whatever she needed.

Elena pulled away slowly and Damon sat back, drained and relaxed. His head was swimming. They stared at each other, and Elena licked her lips quickly, just a brief slide of her tongue.

“West,” she said.

“What?” Damon asked. His heart was pounding, slow and heavy, and it was an effort to speak.

“I see it now,” Elena said. “She went west.”

Shaking himself back into alertness, Damon started the engine. “We can turn west on I-64,” he said, his mouth dry. “About half a mile.”

“Good,” Elena said. She was looking straight ahead through the windshield. Damon checked the connection between them, but Elena was locked down tight. All he got was an intent concentration on the road ahead. Whatever else she was thinking, she wasn’t letting herself feel it, not yet. She wasn’t going to let him in.

Tentatively, he reached across the seat between them, his hand palm up, waiting for her hand to clasp his.

Elena did not take his hand.

M
att wiped his sweaty palms against his jeans and let his head rest against the driver’s seat for a moment. He took a deep breath before looking at the polished wooden stave in the passenger seat—one of Meredith’s old bo staffs. He gritted his teeth and picked it up. It was cool and sturdy in his hands, and he gripped it tightly, trying to remember all the moves Meredith had ever taught him.

Then he climbed out of the car, dread pooling in his stomach. Waiting wasn’t going to make this any easier.

Gravel scattered under his feet as he made his way across the parking lot toward Jack’s warehouse. Everything was silent, no signs of life in the empty lot. The silence seemed
wrong
, and, after a moment, Matt realized how weirdly complete it was: no sounds of traffic from the
highway, no rustling of leaves from the trees, no birdsong. He shuddered, but kept walking.

Matt couldn’t wait for the others to make a plan, couldn’t wait for Elena and Damon to come home. Not while Jasmine was suffering.

Sweet, intelligent Jasmine with her shining eyes and softly curving mouth. Jasmine who loved him, who trusted him. Who had thrown herself wholeheartedly into trying to help Matt and his friends. Whatever happened, he had to at least
try
to save her. Tears prickled at the back of Matt’s eyes, and he blinked them away.

He wasn’t an idiot. There was a nest of vampires inside this warehouse. With his total lack of special powers, he was probably going to his death.

Matt swallowed hard. It would be better to die today trying to save Jasmine than to live sixty more years knowing he’d abandoned her.

Clutching the stave tightly, he considered his silent surroundings. The whole place seemed still and empty, as if it were deserted, but Matt knew better. He inspected the door. There was a little rust on its panels, but it was solid looking and made of steel. There was no way he’d be able to kick it down.

With a mental shrug, Matt raised his fist and pounded heavily on the door, which let out metallic echoing thuds. They were vampires, they would have heard him coming.

The door gave a long screech as a lanky dark-haired guy with close-set eyes—not a guy, a
vampire
—opened it. Acting on instinct, Matt moved fast.

One hard thrust from the stave in Matt’s hand, and the vampire staggered and fell, blood blooming red across his chest, his mouth open in a grimace of surprise. His eyes dimmed. He was dead, at least for the moment.
Lucky hit.
Matt knew with deadly certainty that his luck wasn’t going to last.

Matt stepped over the dead vampire and moved toward the next one, a slim blond girl with a short swinging bob.

She was just standing still, looking bewildered, as if events were happening too quickly for her to catch up. Beyond her, chained to the back wall of the warehouse, he glimpsed Jasmine and quickly looked away, his breath catching.

He couldn’t concentrate on the fight if he looked at her right now. He wouldn’t have much time before the vampires got over their surprise and their superior reflexes kicked in.

But maybe he could get past one more, maybe he could make his way to Jasmine.
Please
, he prayed silently, raising his stave again.
Please. If I’m going to die, at least let me touch Jasmine again.

But as he moved toward the girl, a pair of strong arms, as unyielding as steel bands, wrapped around him from behind and pinned Matt’s arms to his sides.

He tried to struggle, but it was pointless; however much he strained, he couldn’t move at all. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tall, thin vampire struggling to his feet, already beginning to recover. Giving in to despair, Matt sagged against his captor’s arms.

“Can you think of a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now?” Jack’s voice said, soft and low. His breath was warm against Matt’s ear, and Matt shuddered.

Jack squeezed him tighter, and Matt struggled to breathe. It was painful, the pressure of Jack’s arms compressing his ribs, slowly pressing the air from his lungs. Now that the fight was over, and he’d failed, just as he’d feared he would, he let himself look across the warehouse toward Jasmine for the first time.

Her arms were chained high above her head, her muscles taut with the strain, and she was looking straight back at him, her eyes shining with love. Tears ran down her cheeks, making long tracks through the dirt there. There were streaks of dried blood on the side of her throat. She gave Matt a tiny, tremulous smile, and his chest ached. He hadn’t saved her, and now she was trying to send him comfort.

“Take me instead,” Matt blurted out.

“What?” Jack sounded startled, and his arms loosened a fraction. Matt gasped in a quick breath.

“I’m better for your purposes than Jasmine is,” he said hurriedly. This was his only back-up plan, Jasmine’s
only
chance. He had to sell it. “I’m a better hostage. Elena and the others have known me longer, they’re more likely to trade Damon for me. You hunted with us. You know what I’m saying is true.”

Jack made a thoughtful humming noise in his throat, considering, and Matt clenched his teeth. This was the only way he could possibly save Jasmine, he realized, by throwing himself into the abyss. They were all watching him, five or six vampires, their eyes hostile. Everything was sharp and bright at the edges, and he wondered if he was going into shock.

Then Jack huffed, a short, amused sound. “Who says chivalry is dead?”

Fast enough so that the world blurred around him, Matt felt himself lifted and rushed across the warehouse. Jack slammed him back against the wall so hard that Matt was knocked breathless once more.

“Now, tell me why I shouldn’t keep you both?” Jack asked.

Matt felt sick. Jack wouldn’t really keep them both, would he? He gulped quickly, nervously. He had to
think.
“Jasmine has to tell the others what happened,” he said. “You won’t get Damon if they don’t need to trade for me. And you won’t get Damon if they think you can’t be trusted to trade me back. If you let her go, it’ll be a show of good faith.”

Jack pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Good point. Sadie, get over here and unlock the cuffs.”

The blond girl hurried over and took the cuffs off Jasmine’s wrists, pulling her away from the wall. Jasmine was shaking, hard, and she reached out for Matt, her hands trembling. “Please…” she said, her voice strained. “Let me talk to him.”

Jack shoved Matt roughly into the place where Jasmine had been and began to lock the cuffs around his wrists, yanking his arms up with a vicious twist that made his shoulders burn. Matt grunted with pain. “Better get out while you can, sweetheart,” Jack said, indifferently, and pushed her away. “Sadie, take her home.”

As Sadie began to pull her away, Matt took one last look at Jasmine. Her beautiful liquid brown eyes were full of tears. Trying to fill his own gaze with all of his love and all the confidence he didn’t feel, Matt told her, “It’s all right. I’ll see you soon.”

Jasmine’s fingers brushed over his arm, featherlight, as Sadie pulled her away. At least they had touched one last time.

#TVD12Captive

“T
his is it,” Elena said, her mouth dry and her hands twitching with anticipation. Siobhan’s trail had led them westward, high into the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. And now, here they were, staring at a small cave entrance.

Elena bent to look more closely. A long cavern stretched further than she could see. They’d have to crawl to get through it. Elena cringed at the thought of moving into the damp and darkness, the heavy stone pressing down all around them.

But they didn’t have a choice. Siobhan’s bloodred aura, the color of death and violence, led straight into the cave. Despite her reluctance to crawl into the dark, Elena’s Guardian Powers were straining inside her, urging her forward. There was someone evil here, someone she was duty-bound to destroy.

No.
Elena closed her eyes for a second and willed herself calm. She had to remember that they weren’t planning to kill Siobhan, not yet. Not until they had found out what she knew about Jack.

“I’ll go first,” Damon said. Elena opened her mouth to argue, and he raised an eyebrow at her challengingly.

Just then Elena’s phone rang.
Jasmine
, the display told her. Elena frowned. Jasmine never called her. Still, maybe it was good news about her research on Meredith’s blood.