Satin/Silk: I miss Alaric. Happy New Years. Been working on this chapter for a VERY long time. This is the second to last chapter. This chapter kind of jumps forward in time for one scene and then jumps back for two and then jumps forwards again.

I do not own any of the characters presented or implied in this character with the exception of any OCS. They all belong to their respective owners: Stephanie Meyers, L.J. Smith, the CW, Bram Stoker, etc. Although there may be some instances of OOCness due to how I believe the characters will act in this unlikely situation.

All chapter names are the Lyrics of Saving Abel's I Need You which I also do not own.


Baby, I Need…..

Sleep eluded Bonnie; she lay on her bed and contemplated a best possible way to escape. Grams' word rung true in her ear, the time for crying was over. Stella's words haunted her as they just hung in the air like a bad mist.

More than ever, Bonnie had wished for Damon's reckless mind. The man was a genius with his back up plans. The young witch could hardly think of any other person she knew that could just throw a plan together. The pregnant witch let a smile grace her face as she pushed herself of the bed. Her back instantly ached from the lack of plush that had once been supporting it.

As soon as Bonnie got out of there, she needed to see a doctor. Her back was killing her and she just wasn't sure if the pain should be this immense. Sure, the witch could use a spell to alleviate the pain but it was temporary. The thought sparked another, the grimorie. "I am so glad that you have found it for me," those had been the words that Stella had said. A witch didn't need a grimorie but to perform a certain spell.

Words from the previous evening echoed in Bonnie's head, they were going to be performing a big spell. From more experience than Bonnie was willing to have, she knew big spells needed power. Two witches Bonnie thought to herself, they would not be enough. Focus, Bonnie thought as she tried to recall what Damon had said. He had been shouting something at Edward, what had it been.

The witch with child rubbed her belly softly as she forced the words to come to her. Where are the other witches? That had been the question that Damon had growled. The simple memory of his tone sent a chill down Bonnie's spine. Missing witches, a big spell, a large but barren castle, Bonnie felt herself close to seeing everything that could happen and nothing at all. Despite it all, Bonnie knew everything she could or possibly need for her escape was in the castle.

Damon's first rule of stopping the bad guy; fuck with the spell. It sounded much simpler than it sounded but Bonnie could find the witches. Even if she could only save a handful it would be enough to delay it. She touched the silky material of the curtain covering a seemingly large window. She tugged at it; the material just rustled but didn't move.

The witch frowned to herself, she hadn't expected it to be that easy but at she had to try. Bonnie turned on her heels and slipped (as best as a four month pregnant woman could) into her bed. Her body hummed at the feeling of being hugged by the luxurious textures. She would sleep, the dark skinned woman decided. It was the only to gather energy. Second rule, there was no point in fighting if you weren't prepared. Bonnie would need all her strength. She and her baby were going to make it out of here alive. That she could guarantee.

Her mind buzzed with the sorrowful guilt of another. The edges of his feelings were teased with rage and she felt unnatural attraction to it. They would regret the day that they tried to fuck with them. The thought soothed the pregnant witch to sleep and only infuriated the embittered vampire.

Bonnie's thought was hard to ignore, it excited Damon. It gave him a purpose, something to focus on. He was too close to the edge and he couldn't afford to go over. His hands shook and he could feel the crackle beneath his eyes begging to be released. He couldn't. Not yet.

Push, he told himself. "Push," He said silently to himself before he went to find the others. As he felt Bonnie slipping from him once more, an image hit him. Blonde, Dracula was fucking blonde? Sure blondes had more fun but wasn't the Count taking it a little too far? What the hell did that mean exactly? The vampire regretted not being able to ask question. She was gone and it hurt as much as it pissed him off.

Damon paused under the archway of the bar and closed his eyes tightly. He could only do it for so much longer before the tears would drown him. No, he told himself. Be the fucking psycho vampire, that everyone hates, he said to himself.

Damon shook his head, focusing on the game that had to be played to kill Dracula and to keep his heart from getting hurt worse. Damon choked on a cruel chuckle that caught the attention of mostly everyone who had still been awake. The trio was made of Alaric, Stefan and that Edward guy. Damon moved slowly and tried to appear as casual as possible.

Alaric frowned; he saw the tense and tight muscles in Damon's jaw. This wasn't a good sign. Ric knew the vampire long enough to know when he was close to exploding. The only human in the room exchanged a quick look with Stefan who crossed his arms over his chest.

"I am going to take it that you didn't sleep or eat," Alaric said carefully.

"I'll sleep when I am dead," Damon said as he looked at the information on the table. "Oh, wait."

The dark haired vampire shrugged and Stefan stepped forward.


"Little brother, save your hallmark channel moment for another time. I have a piece of information that's a game changer,"

"Like," Alaric said.

"Apparently the Prince of Darkness got tired of stereotypical image and got a dye job. He went blonde," Damon said simply.

"Blonde," Stefan said. "And brother, how exactly did you come across this information."

"Bonnie," Damon said as he sifted through information.

Edward opened his mouth and then closed it again. He grabbed Alaric's laptop, opening it up and quickly pulled it up.

"Tyler found this earlier but quickly dismissed it," Edward turned the laptop so the other three could look at it.

" ," Stefan read aloud.

"How cute," Damon said. "Remind me to give Hong Kong Phooey a Scooby snack later,"

Edward looked puzzled before he spoke, "He does realize those two…"

Ric shook his head. There was no point fighting Damon's flawed logic especially when they had to come up with a new plan.

"Well, damn if any of this is true," Ric said. "This changes everything." He said while scrolling through the information.

"Well, we just need to find out how to kill him and then we can adjust." Stefan said confidently.

Edward's eyebrows furrowed and looked at the trio. The Forks Vampire couldn't help but wonder how many times exactly, they had done this.

"I talked to Genève and she's willing to try the spell but we still don't have a guarantee that it will work,"

"Is Demetri positive, they are Romania?" Stefan questioned.

"He's the best tracker the Volturi has," Edward commented.

"I don't want to burst any bubbles guys but we have a problem,"

Alaric reread the paragraph that he had been on for the last two minutes. Hopefully he had missed something but no matter how many times Ric's eyes scanned over the page, no new information surfaced.

"What now," Damon remarked as he moved beside Alaric.

"From what I gather Dracula was cursed by a gypsy woman so a normal stake in the heart won't do."

"So do we need a gypsy artifact?" Stefan asked, looking over Alaric's shoulder as well.

"That's the problem, the website doesn't say," Alaric said quietly.

"Well, can't we find the dweeb that made the website and persuade him to tell us where he got his information," Damon said menacingly.

"When exactly did Genève said they would most likely perform the spell?" Edward inquired.

"Tonight at the full moon, why," Stefan looked at Edward.

"I am not sure if we're gonna be able to go to England and Romania in the same day,"

"Why would we be going to England?"

Edward's pale hand clicked on the mouse and zoomed in at the bottom right hand side of the website. Damon ground his teeth, why the fuck did things just have to get harder.

'Website Administrator Jonathan Roland, UK.'

"Fuck, fuck," Damon repeated several times before he punched a hole into the table that they had been using a desk. Keep it together, Salvatore, the dark-haired vampire said. He needed to be calm, calm was the only fucking that was keeping him together and he needed the serenity. He needed to save her. He needed to prove that he was fucking worth something.

The room was quiet and Damon knew all eyes were on him. Well he accomplished the 'being the fucking psycho that everyone hates' thing, so he could check that off his list. Damon shut his eyes tight. Stefan and Ric exchanged a little while Edward outstretched his hand to touch Damon's shoulder. Stefan caught the Forks' Vampire wrist and the youngest Salvatore shook his head. It wouldn't be the safe way to get Damon's attention.

Ric cleared his throat and Edward took the opportunity to speak.

"Genève will just have to perform the spell so we can go to England. My father has contacts in London; I can find Jonathan within seconds,"

Damon's snapped open and narrow at Edward. Before the topaz eyed vampire can speak, he was against a wall. Damon's elbow digging into his throat as Edward claws at Damon's arm.

"And how the hell do you think we're going to get back home?"

"Damon," Stefan said, grabbing Damon's shoulder.

Damon pushed his brother across the room before Stefan slammed Damon into the opposite wall. Both vampires bare their fangs at the other. Ric rubs his temples and Edward looks at the two brothers amazed. The Forks' vampire turns his head to Ric who just shakes his head. These Cain and Abel shit was starting to get old.

"If you are done throwing a fit, I might have a solution for you," Genève's cool voice filtered into the room.

The dark woman looked like shit but Damon imagined it probably have something to do with her crying. But Genève refused to show that she had any moments of vulnerability. She walked with her head high and every step screamed a confident woman who didn't need Damon Salvatore. Genève could only hope she believed it.

The two Salvatore Brothers separated and looked at Genève, waiting for her to speak. The witch stopped and stood in the middle of the semi-circle, they formed around her. Genève's glower made Damon feel uncomfortable as he recalled their conversation in her office. But the impulsive vampire refused to back down.

"Are you gonna stare at us or are you gonna tell us your magic solution,"

The witch rolled her eyes, "Did your witch drink your blood,"

The other three spun their heads to look in Damon's direction. Their look ranged from "What the fuck is wrong with you" to "I don't even want to know".

"And if she did," Damon said crossing his arms over her chest.

"And I am assuming you have had her blood on more than one occasion. If so you, you two must share the bond and if that is true, you can tap into her magic,"

"Excuse me,"

Genève turned to look at Alaric, ignoring Damon which pissed him off. "I'll give you two hours, and then you'll be transported back here." Genève looked at her watched. "It's almost three in the morning so its ten o'clock there give or take,"

Edward ground his teeth, "I will not be able to go with you guys, but I will get the information for you,"

"Why can't you go," Damon bite back. "Do you sparkle in the sun or something?"

Edward shifted uncomfortable from his left foot to his right. Damon howled with laughter. His laughter was soon followed by the other two men in the room. Edward's pale face flushed with anger. Though after a while he found himself laughing as well; it was like the gimmick in a mediocre romance novel.

Damon grabbed his sides, and laughed until he cried. "Emo boy, you have to come so I can see this. Sparkle, really what are you a fucking unicorn?"

"I like to think of myself as a lion," This caused more uproarious laughter.

Just as the 'sparkly lion' (dubbed by Damon) promised, he got the information that the gang needed on Jonathan Roland. He lived in a small flat in the center of London. Damon watched as Ric knocked on Jonathan's door.

"Ever been to the Old Blighty before Ric?"

"No, can't say that I have Damon,"

"Oh, you don't know what you're missing. You haven't lived until you been to a pub where a drunk bride-to-be is having her hen party and you get to be her last mistake. Nothing like that,"

Damon smirked at a disgusted Alaric. "Two hours, don't think that enough time for you to get that experience," Damon said as he glanced at his watch.

Alaric stared at his soon to be ex-best friend and tried to discern if he was being serious or not. The expression on the vampire's face was purely devious which was classic Damon but Ric also knew Damon was trying to hold on.

"Don't you have a woman you love that you're trying to win back," Ric asked as he rang the doorbell again.

Damon's smirk transformed into a tight line. Well that shut him up and was also a bad sign.

"Oh bloody hell," a man screamed as he wrenched the door opened.

Damon smiled when he saw the man in front of him. He could only assume that he was Jonathan Roland. Roland was everything that Damon had thought. Fat, unattractive and wore glasses. Right now, he had a robe over his t-shirt and pajamas pants. Damon would have felt bad for dragging the man from his bed but he was sure there was no sexy brunette or red head waiting for Roland. So the British dweeb could piss off as far as Damon was concerned, time was of the essence after all.

"Are you Jonathan Roland?" Ric asked politely.

"Yea," Jonathan remarked nervously. "Why,"

"We just wanted to talk to you about your website the ,"

Roland's eyes widen and Damon caught the door before the man slammed it closed. Damon sent a look to Ric who poked his head into the house.

"Jonathan we just want to talk," Alaric replied just as soon as his face was splashed with a liquid.

Roland looked at Ric stunned. Why hadn't the holy water worked? Ric spitted the water out and informed Roland that he was a hundred percent human.

"Oh," Roland said stunned.

"We just want to know how you kill Dracula,"

Jonathan's face paled. "Why?"

"Because what else do on the night of a full moon," Damon snapped. "He took something that belongs to me and I damn well intend to get it back,"

"And you're serious," Roland stared at Alaric.

"We traveled a long way for this information,"

"So could you just let us in so we can talk and I can nail this bastard?" Damon grunted, not sure how much longer he could hold onto the door.

Roland nodded his head and opened the door for the two men, inviting them in. The short man quickly splashed the holy water in Damon's face who looked annoyed.

"Why don't you try vervain next time, you might have better results," Damon snapped.

The sun lazily streamed into the room that Demetri had been sleeping in. His eyes opened slowly and he immediately recognized the frame of the person on his bed. His mind chugged along slowly as he sorted through a river of emotions that he hadn't been expecting. Demetri's first impulsive was to attack Stella, rip out her throat, and leave her to die as she had done with him. But his body burned for her touch, the great tracker felt clammy and feverish. What was the human term for his current conditions? Withdrawal; he felt like a damn addict and Demetri was sure that the Witch abomination could see it.

Her body was enclosed in a dark robe but he knew it was her. Her scent flooded his senses; the scent of lavender and a spice that he couldn't place. It was a dark but sensual smell that made his mouth water. The vampire attempted to sit up and look unaffected but internally, he was whimpering. Demetri had only had her four, maybe it was seven times but it felt like a thousand more and even thinking about their last encounter. His body became hard with needs, his eyes burning with a fire of lust.

Stella slowly removed her hood and looked at Demetri. She had been uneasy about being in a room with him; although the look of desire in his gaze calmed her only a little. Stella had been surprised and a little overjoyed that the infatuation that Dracula had developed for the Bennett Witch had died as quickly as it had manifested. Perhaps the Fae-witch should have questioned why Dracula was so determined to see that the Bennett Witch wasn't rescued. The original vampire had never shown any concern about whether Bonnie lived or died as long as she performed the spell.

Then suddenly as Stella had met Dracula's in a dark corridor, she could almost feel his apprehension. He had spent most of the day in the Bennett Witch's company. Something had occurred to change his usual confident persona.

"I don't want her to be found or rescue," Dracula's playful tone was absent from the Count's voice. "I don't care if you have to kill everyone or throw them in a worm hole. She must not be found,"

His speech had been clipped and more direct than Stella was used to. She had not been given the opportunity to respond before Dracula had vanished. In all honestly, the witch had been at a lost, she had not wanted to waste most of her day killing several people. Normally, nothing would have delighted her more than spreading pain and mayhem upon the unsuspecting but she had things to do. She had a family to avenge and a very careful diabolic plan to carry out said vengeance. Her usual devious taste would have to postpone until the Bennett Witch breathed no more.

Unfortunately a direct order from Dracula could not be ignored. There was no time to stall, some action had to be taken but Stella only wished she knew how. Then a dark smile crawled against her face as she remembered her first and only lover; Demetri.

Demetri watched Stella carefully as she moved her body gracefully. He cursed silently as she glided out of her robe. Her smooth, creamy, dark skin shimmered in the various rivers of sunlight. She was more beautiful than he could remember. The vampire licked his lips before the Witch slid into his lap. Her body fit perfectly pressed against him. The bitch was doing it on purpose; Demetri could feel every inch of her nude skin.

Demetri bit his lower lip not only to prevent from vocalizing the shudder he was experiencing as well to keep himself from touching her. Damn it, he thought to himself. She had tried to kill him not once but twice.

"Demetri," She purred.

He was so weak.

A small blade appeared in Stella's right hand and raised her left wrist. Demetri watched with enormous interest, listening to the playful sound of her vein as Stella grazed the knife against it. Demetri gulped, he was starving. He had tried to feed on several occasion but the need for another taste of Stella's blood had been overwhelming. Anything he had tasted on his journey to Fork might as well have been rat's piss. He struggled to survive without it but now here it was.

Stella smirked as she continued to play with the vampire and the blade. He wanted it and he probably needed it more than he realized. There was still a potential danger to her if he was able to catch her off guard.

"A peace offering," Her voice had been soft.

The vampire's eye had snapped to the Witch's face. All sign of lust in his face had quickly been replaced with unbridled hatred. Stella drew a quick breath before her body was slammed against the springs of the mattress. Demetri's true face shone through while his hands wrapped around Stella's neck.

"Any reason why I shouldn't kill you right now,"

Stella hadn't spoken; she just opened her legs, allowing Demetri to slide in between them. She lifted her hips slowly and rubbed her pelvis against him. Demetri cursed again as his fangs slowly retracted.

"Not just that," Stella stared at Demetri with her violet eyes. "Anything you desire," Stella offered her wrist to Demetri.

The vampire licks his lips. "What do I have to do?"

"Make sure they never find her,"

The statement took Demetri back but only for a moment before he took Stella's wrist into his mouth and drunk. It tasted better than it had before. Stella closed her eyes and pretended her heart was not leaping for joy or that other emotions weren't trying to surface. Stella almost had the opportunity to enjoy her denial when she heard something.

She quickly pushed Demetri off of her which earned her a growl before she quickly moved to locate the source of the sound. A dark haired human had been spying; she quickly twisted his neck, nearly completely unlatching the skull from the spinal cord. Demetri quickly grabbed the woman, pulling her back into the room before anyone could see them. He would handle the body in a moment. Neither Demetri nor Stella noticed the ring on the dead human's finger.

"One down," Stella said confidently and Demetri stared deeply in her eyes.

"They won't found her,"

"Good," Stella said before offering Demetri her wrist again.

"You have to do what," Stefan blanched over the phone.

"Trust me,little brother but it's not a pretty sight." Damon said casually while leaning against a tree.

Alaric was breathing hard as he stabbed his shovel yet again into the coarse dirt of an English graveyard. His once clean white shirt was caked with dirt and he was sweating profusely while Damon looked as perfect as ever. Barely able to catch his breath, Alaric punctured the ground once more before he turned to Damon.

"Why am I the human, grave digging while you a vampire could have been done twenty minutes ago?"

"I am on the phone." Alaric sneered. "And Tubs here isn't exactly the best look out."

Jonathan openly flinched at Damon's mention of him. Roland had expected a lot of things when he had awakened that morning. His mail, bad shows on the telly and perhaps using his heritage to trick someone out of their hard earned money. Though Roland doubted it was trickery when the customer was willing to fall for some crap that wasn't real. Hell, Roland didn't believe half the shite that his family sworn to protect others against but he needed the attention and the money.

So the had been an easy way to get attention. He never really thought someone would follow him up on it. The Dracula bit was actually a small part of the website that he found it strange that the two men actually were able to locate any of that information. So many people took Bram Stoker's word for law. Why would someone take his sentences of mumbo jumbo for reality?

Jonathan glanced at the two men who were arguing back and forth. The vampire's eyes darted to him to ensure that Roland didn't run. Roland wasn't mental, he wouldn't even dream of running. There was something completely unsettling about the vampire near him.

Realizing his argument with Damon was futile, Alaric went back to digging. Damon looked away from the jumpy gypsy descendant.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted little brother, according to Roland's great, great, great, great, great….you get what I am saying grandmother who put the curse on Dracula he has to be killed with a bone from his beloved, a …" Damon eyes went to Roland.

Roland blinked for a moment, realizing that Damon was waiting for his response. "Sarah Whitman."

"Sarah Whitman, and borrow some of her bones to fasten into stakes and we have a weapon to kill Dracula,"

"Call me when you get them," Stefan said calmly.

"How are things on your side," Damon asked softly.

"Genève and Demetri are trying to get a better location on Bonnie by combining their powers."

"And I thought I moved fast, I would at least buy a girl a drink first before I combine anything with her,"

"You know what I meant, Damon." Stefan added with a smile.

"Sounds like some Captain Planet Shit to me, that better?"

The echo of Alaric's shovel hitting something stole Damon's attention.

"I think we may have just found Sarah Whitman," Alaric said wiping the sweat off of his brow.

Much quicker than Roland could truly think possible, Damon appeared next to Alaric with his hands on top of an opened coffin.

"I have to say, dead definitely look better on me," Damon said softly.

"Is there any way we can be sure that this is Sarah Whitman. They made mistakes a lot."

"Where's a witch when you need her," Damon cursed.

Both American men's eyes drifted to the gypsy man. Jonathan Roland froze under their watchful glanced and his blurted out as much information as possible.

"Not with her, the Whitmans were rich and would have made sure that her body was properly buried with identification. "

Alaric glanced at Damon, "What are the possibilities he doesn't know her bones can kill him,"

"Doubtful, it kind of in the whole 'Welcome to being a Vampire' package; how to feed, what you can do and what will kill you if you don't stay the fuck away." Damon's voice lowered itself.

He felt his body starting to sag. They were getting closer and closer to their time being up. They didn't have time for mistakes. The impulsive vampire was at the brink of his limitation. He hadn't feed in a while, his wounds were barely healed and he didn't want to admit to Alaric. The bastard wouldn't let him live it down and most importantly, Damon was tired. Sure he didn't have to sleep but a little bit of rest did the body good.

Alaric looked thoughtful. "Well there's the possibility that he is so arrogant that he assumed no one would try to kill him or if they did, no one would know the right way."

"If he were me, he would have gotten rid of her."

They both stared at the body in the box. "Well obviously he's not you." Ric said.

"Good thing too," Damon said.

After a few minutes of debate, Alaric and Damon packed up Ms. Sarah Whitman into a duffel bag but not before Damon compelled Roland to forget seeing Damon or Alaric. They time hop, skip and jump back to Seattle with the others had been more draining than Damon had anticipated. He half muttered replies to the others as he went up the stairs to find solace in a bed; Damon would later commented on what had seen. There was just something not quite right about high school students hacking at a body to make weapons. Well they lived in a fucked up world, right?

Damon had been grateful for the Genève's Pub turned Inn when he collapsed on a soft bed. It was nothing compared to what he had at home but beggars couldn't be choosers. Damon allowed the words of the curse to run into his head.

"Dracula must be killed by a monster that carries the bone of Dracula's beloved dipped into the blood of a woman who loves a monster,"

As Damon drifted into sleep, he can't help but wonder where the hell were they gonna find someone like that.

Bonnie sat on her bed, feeling danger slowly looming towards her. Her body begged for sleep. It had been a long day. Bonnie had plans to find the witches or anything else that could weaken whatever Dracula had up his sleeve. Unfortunately when she had awaken that morning, Dracula had been staring out of her window. His pale fingertips were gently tightened around the material of the curtain while sunlight pooled over him.

Damn, Bonnie had thought. It didn't hurt him. Well, shit escaping wouldn't be as easy as she had originally planned. Just great.

Well, Bonnie honestly hadn't expected it to be that easy. But having sunlight on her side would have made thing easier. The day went by slowly as the pleasantly charming Dracula turned into a grump. Bonnie had been surprised but not upset that Dracula had cut their day short.

Think, Bennett, the witch thought to herself. Mr. Blondie is hiding a hell of a lot of witches somewhere. During their little field trip, Bonnie had seen much of the compound. Of course, Mr. Prince of Darkness wouldn't let her anywhere near said witches. Nonetheless, he couldn't hide them from me, thought the pregnant witch.

Just like that, a smile formed on the Bennett Witch's face. He couldn't hide the witches from her no matter what he tried. She could almost hear Damon's snarky comment. She felt like her heart sagged but she pushed the thought away. Damn, she missed that bastard. She didn't have time for that. She closed her eyes, determined to put her "witchy" sense to good use.

At first Bonnie felt nothing and she felt stupid for even trying. What was she even trying to find? She wasn't sure but she didn't stop. The pregnant witch was determined to keep trying. Slowly she found that hum within herself, "That's it, Bennett," She told herself. Not every witch would feel like her but their hum of magic would be pretty similar.

Now to locate it. A sweat bead slowly fell from her forehead. Exhaustion was pulling at her body and the witch could hardly recall the last time she had eaten. She forced that aside, while she searched for it. Then she felt it, it was tiny and so different from her own magical signature. But it was definitely there.

Inspired and fueled with energy a new, Bonnie swung her legs over the bed. The young witch pushed all other feelings while she held to the sensation tight in her chest. Her heart raced as she frantically searched the room for something, anything that could help. Her eyes caught the lily white of her pillow case. Quickly the pregnant witch grabbed the pillow tearing the fabric from its seams and smiled as thousands of feather exploded in the room.

Trying to contain her joy and keep the feeling within reach. Bonnie captured one fluffy feather and gently uses one fingertip to twirl it in time with the hum inside of her. She drew the feather closer to her chest, carefully watching it, making sure it stayed with the beat of the other magic. When she was satisfied that nothing would change, the young woman chanted a simple transfiguration spell and watched as a small fire engulfed the feather. Out of the smoke came a butterfly, relieved but tired, Bonnie said softly.

"Lead me to them,"

The fiery moth soared into the air leading Bonnie throughout desolate hallways. There was an eerie quiet over the manor that the pregnant woman found unsettling. Like the complete and utter tranquil peace that came before a storm. With each step that she took, the pregnant witch had expected to see someone, anyone who would try to stop her. There was no one and the goose bumps on her arms grew more. Exhausted, and unsure if she would be able to keep up with the butterfly, it plunged down a small stairway. So small, Bonnie wouldn't have seen it before. This had to be the place, she thought. Her skin prickling with the sense of something powerful was nearby.

Bonnie covered her mouth, trying to prevent the gasp from escaping from her lips. Two dead bodies were piled on the floor. Throat cuts, clothes stained with blood and a pool of the crimson liquid drowning them. Not entirely sure why she was so surprised but the grimly sight was not so easy to ignore. Damn vampire, she thought, they always left such a damn mess.

The young woman knew that she was drawing closer to something important. She pushed the Gothic metal doors and walked into the room. Bonnie hadn't realized that she had been smiling until she frowned. She hadn't stumbled upon witches at all. In a cage she saw fourteen people cloaked in robes. Their red eyes pierced at her as they tried to determine if she was friend or foe. Quickly, Bonnie noticed how unearthly pale they were, and their features similar to those of Edward.

More vampire, just fucking great, the Bennett witch thought to herself.

"It would seem you are lost, my dear," One man seemed to stand amongst everyone else.

They all watched him with confidence and reassurance that he would set things right. He must have been their leader. Bonnie kept her mouth shut, not trusting herself to speak in her irritated, hungry and exhausted state. Beside, why would Dracula want vampires caged. What else was going on that Bonnie didn't know?

"I am sure I can help you find your way, if you would only come closer and perhaps open the door." Bonnie's eye shifted to the lock.

"No thanks," The pale man's lips tighten before he revealed a pleasant smile.

"Come and open the door," His voice was smoothing and alluring.

It was as if Bonnie's skin and senses were being caressed by his voice. Just as soon as it came over her, it went away. Bonnie rubbed her eyes, every hair on her arm was up and she felt as if she had almost drugged. Did that bastard just try to compel her? It wasn't his eyes he had used, it was his voice. How very strange. Did Dracula possess that capability?

The man seemed unnerved that the pregnant witch hadn't moved. A man with golden locks moved forward, his voice was low but Bonnie still caught his meaning.

"Witch," His hushed whispered seemed like a slap in the face.

They collective hissed at her. So they knew about witch, huh?

"Who are you," Aro demanded.

"Bonnie Bennett," The witch that Demetri had been sent to the track. He wasn't back which meant he had been killed, a fate that the rest of the Volturi expected to share.

"You know my name but I don't know yours," Bonnie said softly after seeing recognition in Aro's eyes.

"Information you will not be granted," Stella's cold voice echoed through the room.

Bonnie turned to look at the hybrid who seemed impressed and yet displeased at where the pregnant witch was.

"You Bennett witches always find yourself where you're not wanted."

Another collective hiss came from the vampires as Stella approach. The corner of her lips tugged upwards by their greeting. She swayed as she watched; feeling like a feline stalking toward its cornered prey. It was good to be the alpha in this situation. With a simple flick of her chocolate wrist, she watched as all the vampire fell to the ground crying out. How beautifully delicious.

Stella took a few moment to watch their suffering, her lips agape while she watched them writhing on the floor. Just a little more and they would die instantly. The thought was appealing but she needed them, well perhaps not all of them but one of two would be enough.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Bonnie snapped.

The Fae hybrid's neck skillfully turned and looked at the Bennett witch. She had almost forgotten that she was there at all. Pity, her day had been so remarkably better before the bitch had the audacity to leave her room and speak. With her purple orbs torn away from her game, their horizontal dance of pain ended as quickly as it had started.

"You but I am going to resolve that as soon as you do the spell." The smile was on Stella's face was sickening.

"Like the fuck I am," Bonnie snapped. "You don't control me,"

The smile on Stella's face faded as quickly as it spread across her evil face. Bonnie has expected her to say something but a small playful grin came across her finger. She strolled to the cage and pointed to Jane and beckoned her with her finger. The girl still recalled the unnecessary amount of pain that had already been inflicted, with more hesitation than she wanted to show, she moved towards the witch.

Stella quickly grabbed the plush material of the Volutri's robe and pulled her until her face was pressed against the bars of the cage. Jane's scream slowly filtered through the room while Bonnie watched in disgust.

"She has the power to give pain to anyone or anything," Stella said the words slowly and glanced at Bonnie's rounded stomach.

"I will fucking kill you," The temperature rose considerably as every candle's flame rose to higher and fatter than it had been a moment ago.

"You will kill me while carrying a dead child; I don't think you will have the strength." Stella added taunting. "Now be a good little witch and go back to your room."

Bonnie took a breath, her world was slowly spinning. She clenched her fist and then unclenched them. She stared deep into Stella's eyes. "I am going to enjoy when he rips your fucking heart out of your body. Not as much as I am going to enjoy you drawing your last breath as you think to yourself why the fuck did I ever think I could take on a Bennett witch and live to tell the fucking tale."

"What a nice bravado, I almost believe you but we know there's a line that you Bennetts can't cross."

Bonnie closed to her mouth and looked at Aro and the other Volutri's member. I'll be back; she thought as she turned around and left.

Damon's eye sprung open as he felt himself being shaken awake. His eyes flew to his best friend who looked disheveled and smelled of death. Alaric quickly covered Damon's mouth before he spoke.

"We got trouble. "