Unspoken

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.



Chapter 27



“This 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.



“Hello?” she said, picking up. Immediately, she tensed.



Jasmine was crying, harsh sobs coming through the phone. Not good news, after all. “Jasmine? What is it? What’s happened?” Beside Elena, Damon stiffened.



“Jack has Matt,” Jasmine said, her voice rough and panicked. “He wants to trade him for Damon. He—it’s horrible, Elena, they’re feeding on him, and he’s only there because of me.”



For a moment, Elena froze. Not Matt. He was brave and strong, but he didn’t have special Power or protection, not like she did. Not like Damon did, or Bonnie, or Meredith.



Not like Stefan had, and Elena’s stomach knotted as the picture of Stefan falling, his expression of shock fading into blankness, flashed through her mind again. There was no way Matt could survive Jack, not if Stefan hadn’t.



Damon took the phone out of her hand. He’d heard everything, of course. “We’ll get your boyfriend back,” he said soothingly into the phone. “Once we take care of business here, find out the best way to handle Jack, we’ll be right there.” He paused to listen to Jasmine’s reply, but Elena couldn’t hear what she said. “They won’t kill him,” he said after a moment, his eyes meeting Elena’s. “Not if Jack wants to trade him for me.”



After he hung up, Damon looked at Elena again, his dark eyes unreadable. He’d been looking at her like that a lot, ever since they’d kissed a few hours ago. Unthinkingly, Elena touched her lips and felt herself flush as Damon’s gaze lingered on her fingers.



“We’d better get moving,” he said abruptly. “It appears that your friends can’t keep themselves out of trouble for even a couple of days without us.” Crouching down, he contemplated the cave entrance for a moment.



Something about the high defensive line of Damon’s shoulders, the pale skin at the nape of his neck made Elena say, impulsively, “We wouldn’t trade you, Damon. Not even for Matt.”



Damon looked back over his shoulder at her and flashed a brief, brilliant smile. “Good to know.” Ducking his head, he crawled through the mouth of the cavern. Pulling out the flashlight she carried, Elena followed.



The stone was cold and rough against her hands and knees, and it was difficult to hold on to the flashlight, which showed her little more than Damon’s heels. He could see in the dark as well as a cat, Elena knew, but her own view was restricted to the small pool of light thrown by her flashlight, and the red strands of Siobhan’s aura, strands as thick as Elena’s wrist, leading her steadily on.



Just as Elena began to feel that she couldn’t take the sensation of the stone walls pressing in on her from every direction, the tunnel opened up into a wider cavern. She straightened up with relief, her back and legs aching from the long crawl.



Siobhan wasn’t in this part of the cave, either, she realized immediately. The bloodred trail of her aura led further on, disappearing through another opening in the rock wall. Elena stood shoulder to shoulder with Damon, scanning the cavern with her flashlight.



The stone walls were rough and dark, glittering in places with mica, maybe, or fool’s gold. It was damp and cold—they must have come a good way underground.



“I smell blood,” Damon said, very quietly. “Human blood. Which way does the trail lead?” Elena pointed, and he nodded grimly.



Walking softly, their arms brushing, they followed the bloodred aura. Something was pushing eagerly inside Elena—find her, finish her, eliminate her—but she concentrated on keeping her Powers under control. Don’t attack unless you have to, she told herself. The Guardians wanted Siobhan dead, but Elena needed her alive.



They stepped through an opening in the rock wall, and Elena instinctively flinched backward, grabbing hold of Damon’s arm to steady herself.



Corpses were littered carelessly across the smooth stone floor, tumbled on top of each other like dolls dropped by a bored child, ten or twelve of them, all dead. Closest to Elena’s feet, an elderly woman stared up through empty eyes, her throat torn out.



Surrounded by the bodies stood a tall figure in a long, bloodstained white dress. Black hair flowed around her, twining over her shoulders and down to her waist. Siobhan. In her arms, half-wrapped in Siobhan’s hair, was another victim, Siobhan’s teeth working busily at his throat. Her eyes were closed.



Kill her. Elena started forward, all her strategies forgotten in the need to stop Siobhan, to protect her victim. Dangerous. Evil. Her Guardian Power bubbled up in her chest, ready to attack. Damon’s hand gripped her shoulder, trying to hold her back.



But they were too late. As soon as Elena moved, Siobhan’s eyes shot open, vividly blue, even in the shadowy light of the flashlight. She dropped the man she’d been feeding on, and he landed with a thud on the stone floor of the cave. He was clearly dead.



The heat in Elena’s chest dissipated, leaving an empty ache. There was no one to save here.



Siobhan’s eyes, gleaming with wicked joy, fixed on Elena. Her lips were red and slick with blood. “You…” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I dreamed of you.” Her gaze flickered to Damon. “And a little vampire, too.”



Elena felt Damon stiffen, and she shushed him with a touch on his arm. “We’ve been looking for you, Siobhan,” she said politely. “We came to ask for your help.”



Moving faster than Elena could track, Siobhan was suddenly terribly close. Elena struggled for breath, realizing only after a moment that Siobhan’s hand was tight around her throat. She was so fast.



Damon snarled, and Elena sent him a warning through their bond: Wait. Siobhan wasn’t hurting Elena. Not yet, anyway. And they needed her to listen to them.



Now that she was holding Elena, Siobhan was curiously still. Her eyes searched Elena’s. “You’re very…” she said, sounding puzzled and distant, like a sleepwalker. She looked Elena up and down. “… shiny. Gold. Not quite human. I don’t know what you are.”



Elena concentrated on breathing, slow and shallow. She needed to stay calm. Siobhan’s fingers were strong on her throat, and up close, the old vampire smelled like fresh blood, like death.



She can’t kill you, Elena told herself firmly, and kept her eyes steady on Siobhan’s. Her Guardian instincts squirmed inside her: kill her, kill her now, and Elena firmly restrained herself. She wouldn’t kill Siobhan, not yet. Not while she might be of use to them.



“Jack Daltry,” Damon said, watching them closely. “He’s killing vampires, like you and me. We want to kill him first. Can you help us?”



Siobhan grinned savagely, and Elena recoiled. The vampire’s canines were fully extended, stained with blood. Smiling, any illusion of humanity ripped away from her face. She looked like a monster. “That’s not even his name,” she said. “What chance do you have, knowing nothing? Idiots.”



“Henrik Goetsch, then,” Damon said, and Siobhan’s eyes widened slightly. She hadn’t expected them to know Jack’s real name.



“Henrik Goetsch,” she said thoughtfully, rolling the name over her tongue as if she was tasting it. “Yes, I remember Henrik.” Abruptly, she let go of Elena’s throat and strode away, her bare foot stepping on a corpse’s hand as nonchalantly as if it had been a twig. The edge of her long gown dragged through a pool of blood.



Elena sucked in a deep draught of air, her hand on her throat. “What do you remember about him?” she asked, keeping her voice steady.



Siobhan swung around to face them. For a moment, she looked stricken, her eyes huge and unhappy, and then she laughed harshly. “He’s not a nice man, little sunshine,” she said.



“What did he do?” Elena asked softly. She smiled hesitantly at Siobhan—you can tell me, we’re just two girls—and the vampire’s eyes narrowed.



“Trapped me,” she said bitterly. “Tricked me. Pretended to love me. He took so much blood, and he wouldn’t let me feed.” Her lips curled into a smile. “I got loose, though, and killed his lab assistant. He wasn’t expecting that.” She licked her lips, reminiscing, and then scowled. “She tasted horrible, though. All wrong. Killed Henrik’s girlfriend, too.”



Satisfaction began to uncurl inside Elena, and she could feel the same emotion coming from Damon through their bond. They had been right. Siobhan was the vampire Jack had used to make his artificial vampires.



“Don’t you want revenge?” Damon asked, stepping toward Siobhan, his hands held out as if he was coaxing a skittish animal. “Don’t you want to kill Henrik? Can he be killed?”



“Oh, I’ll kill him one of these days,” Siobhan said, idly wandering among her corpses. She toed a middle-aged man over with her bare foot, so that he flopped onto his back, staring with empty eyes at the roof of the cave. Siobhan smiled down at him, as if she was laughing at a private joke. “I leave these bodies where I know he’s been. To remind him I know his secret, and that I’m coming for him.”



“His secret?” Elena said breathlessly. “So he can be killed.”



Siobhan looked coyly at them through her lashes and mimed zipping her lips. One of the smudges of blood on her face was definitely a handprint, Elena realized, feeling a little sick.



Siobhan cocked her head to one side, considering. “I knew Henrik would leave himself a back door. He wouldn’t create an army he couldn’t get rid of,” she said slowly. “So I watched and waited—I was very clever about it—and eventually I found out there was a poison that would kill the vampires he’d made. And I stole it.”



“It’ll kill Henrik, too?” Damon asked swiftly.