Unspoken

“Impressive,” Damon said coolly, eyeing a hole she’d left in her defenses. Instead of taking advantage, he ignored the opening and moved another piece forward.



It was good to see Elena enjoying herself for a moment. She’d been too sad for too long. Maybe, Damon thought. Maybe someday she’ll get over Stefan. It was a betrayal of his little brother, but he couldn’t help the flush of hope the thought gave him. After all, Damon had all the time in the world to wait.



“You’ll get it,” Elena said encouragingly, taking another one of his pieces. “Checkers isn’t hard, I promise.” There was a smug little curl at the edge of her lips.



“Indeed,” Damon said. He could hear the waitress at the counter behind him, smell the warm salt of Elena’s fries. Lunch was ready. He leaned forward and jumped four of her men with a satisfying series of clicks. “King me.”



Elena blinked at the board, and Damon let a smile spread over his face. “You must be a wonderful teacher,” he told her.



Elena’s cheeks were prettily flushed, and she glanced up at him through her lashes as they crossed the parking lot together. Her arm pressed against his, and Damon was gloriously aware of the heat coming off her silky skin.



“You’re a quick learner,” she commented. “I can’t believe you won every game.”



Damon vaguely noted a few figures at the edge of the parking lot, looking toward them, and checked absently—human, harmless—his attention fixed on Elena. He watched as they got into their car and drove away. He’d been right: human.



“My life’s been long enough—” he began, and then a heavy body slammed into him, low and hard, knocking the breath out of him.



Vampires.



Damon hit the ground and rolled, grappling with the synthetic vampire above him. His back scraped painfully against the asphalt of the parking lot. A heavy, dark-skinned, muscular man, older than most of Jack’s protégés, snarled down at him, his teeth sharp and glaringly white against his skin.



“Damon!” Elena shouted.



The vampire pressed forward, his teeth scraping at Damon’s throat, and Damon yanked away. The vampire’s body was warm, as warm as a human’s, and his breath was hot and fetid, like something rotten. Damon shoved at him, trying to get some leverage to snap his neck. But his weight was too much—his canines sank into Damon’s throat, tearing at it.



The bite burned like fire, and Damon thrashed, trying to get free.



Out of the corner of his eye, he caught more movement. Another vampire. Two vampires. No.



With a fresh surge of strength, Damon struggled harder, rolling over and slamming the larger vampire down against the asphalt of the parking lot. He needed to get up before the other two got to Elena. Maybe they couldn’t kill her, not with their bite, but they could take her, and Jack knew Elena’s secret. It was unlikely that she’d be able to raise her Guardian Powers against them—they weren’t her target, and she had no time to coax her Power to the surface.



He and the artificial vampire were gripping each other tight now, straining against each other. The other vampire’s muscles bulged with effort. Slowly, his teeth gritted, Damon forced his opponent’s arms back down and pinned them against the pavement, enjoying the expression of shock on his face.



He snapped the other vampire’s neck quickly and watched as his eyes glazed over. That would keep him down for a little while. Damon leaped gracefully to his feet.



As he turned, he heard a heavy thump. Behind him, a tall light-haired vampire had fallen at Elena’s feet, a stake protruding from his chest. The third vampire, a woman, hesitated, staring at Elena.



Before the fallen recovered, Damon took two long steps over and snapped her neck quickly. “That’ll knock her out longer than the stake,” he told Elena, and bent to snap the neck of the third vampire as well.



“We’d better get out of here while we can,” Elena said. She bent to tug her stake, with an audible huff of effort, from the tall vampire’s chest. Efficiently, she wiped it on a tissue and tucked the stake back into her purse.



“Nicely done,” Damon said, trying to gauge her mood. She didn’t seem frightened, and there was nothing but adrenaline-fueled excitement and a certain smug pleasure coming through their bond. “You don’t need too much protecting, do you, Guardian?” Elena smirked at him, and he felt her spark of pride.



Then her face fell. The pride shifted to shock, then fear. “You’re hurt,” she said.



“Oh,” Damon said, reaching up to touch the bite. The blood was still trickling down his neck, hot and painful. He’d forgotten for a moment in his concern for Elena. “I’m all right.”



“No,” Elena said. “Come here.” She leaned back against the side of the car and pulled open the neck of her shirt, brushing back her hair from her throat. She cocked her head invitingly.



He could see the delicate veins beneath her skin, and his breath caught. Elena would be so soft, he knew, her neck like warm satin beneath his lips and teeth. And her blood was rich and sweet.



“Hurry,” she said urgently. “They’ll be waking up soon.”



Damon wanted. He really did.



But he swallowed and dragged his eyes away from her, licking his lips.



When he’d fed from her before, she’d turned away from him. She hadn’t wanted him to see inside her mind, hadn’t wanted him any closer than the bond between them already brought them.



He didn’t just want her blood. When he drank from Elena, he didn’t want it to be about food.



“No thank you, princess,” he said. “I’m fine.”



“Don’t be chivalrous, Damon,” Elena said, irritated. “You need this.”



Damon stared down at his feet. “Better not,” he said. “We need to get going.” He took a quick breath, and then looked up at Elena again, shooting her his most brilliant smile. “I really am perfectly fine. It’s healing already.” He brought his hand up to his neck, and found that it was true: The bite was messy and painful, but the wound was clotting.



Before she could argue, he opened his car door and reached over to unlock hers. Once they were in, he pulled out, tires squealing. The false vampires were already beginning to stir.



Elena felt a bit petulant, he thought, cautiously checking their bond—his princess liked everyone to fall in line with her plans—and he concentrated on shutting down the connection between them, trying to broadcast only thoughts about the road ahead.



He didn’t know if she could feel the small bitter ache in his chest, but he surrounded it with layers of don’t ask and private and hoped she would mind her own business.



“You’re being an idiot,” Elena told him sharply. Damon winced and didn’t answer. The warmth that had echoed through their bond earlier was gone.



He couldn’t bear to drink from her anymore.



It was an exquisite torture, tasting her sweetness, reaching out for her mind, her soul—only to have Elena pull away. Sharing blood like that should be for lovers, the most intimate connection there was.



Damon was tired of letting himself pretend. Stefan—his irritating, noble, beloved little brother—was dead, but he still occupied Elena’s heart. And if Damon couldn’t have that place, if that part of Elena was going to be closed to him, he had to let it go.



Chapter 22



“Let’s get just one more vial,” Jasmine coaxed, and Meredith held out her arm.



“Don’t you think you’ve taken enough blood today?” Matt asked, his forehead crinkling with concern. “You’re turning her into a pincushion.”



“It’s fine,” Meredith said tiredly. She hadn’t fed properly for days—just the occasional bird or beast—and her jaw ached. She felt slightly sick, and the smell of the blood flowing beneath Matt and Jasmine’s skin made her lightheaded. She blinked and tried to focus on what they were saying, which had been much easier when she was with Jack and the others. The regular human blood diet had kept her sharp.



Maybe Jasmine could hook her up with blood from the hospital.



Tightening her lips, Meredith shook her head sharply. She could control her cravings.



She had to remember what this was all about. Jasmine was going to find a cure. Meredith didn’t need access to stolen blood—she needed to be human again.



Jasmine drew blood from Meredith’s arm and took a few drops into a pipette to put into a blocky white machine. “I don’t know,” she said, frowning. “I’ve separated your blood out in the ultracentrifuge, and I’ve tried electrophoresis, and analyzed it every way I could think of. I can see that there are differences, and I can get some information on how you’ve changed, but I just don’t know what Jack did to make it happen.”



“Doesn’t his journal tell you?” Matt asked, picking up the leather-bound book and flipping through its pages. Damon had lent it to Jasmine to help with her research.



Jasmine’s mouth scrunched. “It’s big on the effects he observed, but he doesn’t really detail the exact procedures he used to get there. It’s not a scientific journal.”



“I’m sorry I don’t remember more,” Meredith told her. “But it was all like a dream. He injected me with hypodermics, and it took several nights. I think I was under pretty strong sedation, but sometimes I’d wake up and see him standing over me.” Meredith shuddered. “Some of the injections went in at the base of my skull, he wasn’t lying about that, and some went into my arm. And he operated. I remember a scalpel, and other medical instruments.” Matt was staring at her in horror.



Jasmine looked at Meredith apologetically. “I can keep running the same tests and see if there’s something I missed. But I’m not sure how much I’m going to find.” Her eyes shone with tears.



“I understand—” Meredith began, but Matt was already moving forward to wrap his arms around Jasmine.



“It’s okay,” he said, pressing Jasmine’s head against his shoulder. “We won’t give up.”



Meredith stood back and watched them, feeling uncomfortably out of place as Matt lightly kissed the side of Jasmine’s head. Their hearts were beating in time, she could hear them, a steady rhythm.



Was she ever going to be like that again? Would she and Alaric, whom she loved so much, ever be simple and wholly human together?



Probably not. Meredith swallowed hard, tasting bitterness. She wasn’t going to let herself think that way. Jasmine and Bonnie. Science and magic. Maybe they could fix her, make her herself again.



She had to get out of there. Muttering a quick excuse, she swung out of the room, past their startled faces.



Keeping herself carefully to human speed, Meredith made her way toward the hospital exit. She could smell warm, fresh blood all around her, and her throat felt dry and tight. She walked a little faster.



Bursting out through the doors into the hospital parking lot, Meredith realized she was panting. The sun was shining brightly, and she squinted against the glare. She’d go to her car and go out to the woods and drink from a bird or a rabbit, she decided. She needed blood. Without it, she was weak and dizzy, and her emotions were swooping out of control. She felt like crying all the time.



At the far end of the parking lot, there was someone leaning against her car.



Jack.



Meredith slid her hand into her pocket and wrapped it around the cool wood of a stake, her heart pounding. If she could stake Jack, get him down long enough to snap his neck, maybe she could capture him.



Or maybe he was going to kill her first.



He had seen her, was watching her calmly. There was no point in running away, even if she wanted to. Meredith walked slowly across the parking lot toward him. She felt weirdly relaxed. Maybe she was going to die now. Did it matter? Really, she was already dead, wasn’t she? In all the ways that counted.



“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jack said when she got close enough. He held his hands out, loose and open, nonthreatening.



“Oh, yeah?” Meredith halted a few feet away from him. “Good to know.”



“I worked far too hard on you to just waste it all.” The corners of Jack’s eyes crinkled as he gave his familiar affable grin. “Plus, I’m rather fond of you, despite your betrayal.”



Something inside Meredith curdled, thick and sour. He was fond of her? Jack had destroyed her.



“So, let me make you a deal.” Jack boosted himself up to sit on the hood of Meredith’s car, perfectly relaxed. “Bring me Damon Salvatore and I’ll forgive you. The whole thing, erased. You can come back to us, back where you belong. You know living with humans isn’t working.”



Meredith froze, glaring at him. Did Jack really think that, after everything, she wanted to be one of them?

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