A/N: A little times has passed between this and the previous A Bite There story. This is a new story after all, not just a new chapter. Enjoy :-)
Damon watched her out the corner of his eye as she stared out of the window at the scenery that was just a blur. Bonnie's face was blank but he knew that she must be thinking something, and he wanted to know what it was. Things were different now, after all that had happened, a distance had formed between them, and while that was to be expected he found her silence unnerving; he wondered if she would ever forgive him for not being fast enough – because he could have saved her if he had been aware of what danger she was in. He wanted to tell her in words how sorry he was, but nothing his sluggish mind came up with felt like enough of an apology.
"I wish you had told me – before, Damon." Bonnie said to the windsheild, her throat burning more and more with each word she spoke. She had stopped crying but the ghosts of her tears still lingered on her cheeks. At their next stop at a petrol station she was going to visit the ladies whether Damon liked it or not. The skin of her cheeks felt dry and cracked from the tears the had dried a few hours ago and she just bet she looked like hell now whether she had remembered to put on makeup or not. It had been a surprise when he had flown through the window as a crow and stood beside her bed, human-shaped, in the time it took her to blink, and she hadn't argued when he caught her up in his arms. He did not say a word the whole time, but he had kissed her, and she had found that to be enough when she was still safely inside her room; Now she was scared and sure she was in danger. He had never been so frightening as he was now, or as cold, or so much like a vanpire.
"I did not have a choice – I had to get you out of Mystic Falls – I had no choice, Bonnie, please believe that." He hit the steering wheel and left a mangled dent where his fist had been, but his fustration was even more evident in his tone. The car swerved across the lines in the road and the tires squealed, but no one was around to take note of the bad driving. Damon had taken the car somewhere remote and barren. No buildings could be seen for miles around and it appeared that this place was deserted. There seemed to be no reason why two vampires would want to be this far from civilisation, from fresh blood, but Bonnie trusted in the knowledge that Damon always had reason for everything he did – so there was really no reason why she should question him. If only her gut agreed.
"Here," Damon said, as he leant over and popped the lid of the little storage space in front of her. Inside the glove-compartment the air was refridgerator cold and his warm skin lingered a second or two before pulling out a small, cool blood-bag. "I know you are hungry so don't argue with me about this, please Bonnie." He held it out for her for a moment longer before sighing and dropping the slick bag into her lap. He couldn't understand her, why she acted as if this were all his doing, when he had been the one to save her from Klaus, but whenever he opened his mouth he never seemed to be able to speak the words he actually meant to say. He should have taken better care of her, maybe this could have all been avoided if he'd told her how he felt a few days ago none of this would be happening and she would still be human. It might have not been his fangs that breached her lovely skin, but he felt responcible for what had happened anyway.
Bonnie took the bag but stared at it instead of taking it into her mouth. How was she going to do this? Damon had always been the one to break the seal of the packets for her and this was the first time that she would be doing it alone. In her head, she visualised him biting into the packet with his razor sharp fangs, but how did she do it? Where were her fangs, because she could certainly not feel them with her tongue. Damon took the blood from her and ripped the top off with his teeth, not even once taking his eyes off the road, and handed it back. She took it eagerly, and as soon as she could taste the blood on her tongue it no longer mattered to her that he was still treating her like a child, the act of drinking blood was all that her mind could focus on. Afterwards, she handed the now empty packet to Damon and he threw it out into the Colorado desert without missing a beat – feeling as if she were not ready herself to be so bad ass as to litter.
"It would have been a mistake to warn you, believe me," Damon insisted quietly, but he was smiling wryly when he continued, "you would have only worried."
"Do you think that we've lost them?" she asked, turning in her seat as if to look back at the road behind them, but Damon's soft touch on her cheek stopped her before she could, and she did not fight it. She straightened and resumed her previous pose – staring fixedly out through the dusty glass.
"Not yet." he said, and pressed harder on the pedal and forcing the car to drive faster. The car a short distance behind them was not only matching their speed but had been following them since the last service station stop and he knew that they were being followed. He turned off the road and onto the flat desert which surrounded them still going as fast as the car was able and the action left large plumes of dust behind them, obscuring the view of whoever had followed them so far from home – there must be a reason, and he could bet it was sinister.
Bonnie held onto the handle above the car-door as if her life depended on it, which it probably would have when she was human. It was difficult to tell how much time had passed since Damon had taken the car off of the road with how much the vehicle bucked and moaned, but it was starting to feel like a life-time ago. She had bitten her tongue too many times to count, enough times for her to taste her own blood in the mouth, but the wound always healed before she could check it out in the mirror, as if by magic. She could get used to this... which she supposed she would have to if she were going to survive.
Now he was confident that she was still in danger. Not only was he driving at a speed that was at least triple the limit, he was driving cross-country style through a desert at least a few miles from the main road. No one else should have been going this way, he felt pretty sure, so it was reasonable to assume that the other car was following them; one of Klaus's goones, he guessed, sent on a mission to collect Bonnie and bring her to him. After all that the Original had done to his red-bird, he must be insane to think that Damon would just give her over without a fight.
Despite Damon having told her not to, Bonnie turned in her seat and tried to see past the thick curtain of dust that acted a veil between her and her persuers. Her improved eye-sight was useless with all the sand blowing into the back window, but her hearing was pin-sharp. Aside from the deep growl of the car their persuers used, she could hear two different heartbeats which meant the two were probably human; wouldn't it be quicker for a werewolf to follow them by foot? Wasn't it quicker for them to run of foot? She'd seen Damon's lightening fast movements before and knew that he could easily go faster than this.
As if he had read her mind, Damon said through clenched teeth, "Running would be faster, believe me, but we haven't had nearly enough blood for it to be a comfortable..."
"Who cares about comfortable?" she exclaimed, her voice swallowed by the roar of then engine before he would be able to hear it. She could not fathom Damon's way of thinking if he worried that she would miss leather seats. "Running is faster!" She exclaimed, as if he had missed the point. Shouldn't he know this after being undead for five hundred years? What was he trying to prove by continuing to use this damned car? She wanted to ask him why he was doing this, but in the next moment she would find out. She saw his jaw clench as if he were seconds away from shouting at her, but he kept eerily silent.
He turned to her then and she saw that his eyes were deeply dark with hunger. It was impossible to know what he saw through those eyes, since she hadn't felt such thirst before, but she still felt a rush of fear. She might be a vampire now, but she was still wary of him more than she was sure. "I need blood, we need blood," he said, as if it were not blatantly obvious already, and his eyes roamed over her neck longingly. He had to remind himself that Bonnie's blood would be no good to him now, because in a second he felt like the temptation would become too much. The little voice inside his head told him that her blood was the blood he needed, even if his better judgement told him that it would do neither of them any good.
"There's some blood left in the cooller –" she began, already opening it and searching amoungst the rubbish for an untouched packet. She couldn't remember how much she had drunk, but she could have sworn it was not this much. She looked up at Damon sheepishly, feeling a little embarassed despite everything else happening, "... Or maybe not. Sorry, Damon." She watched him try to smile, but all he could seem to do was grimace and scrunch his eyes closed as battled with himself not to bite her. It was like nothing else he had ever felt, the temptation to drink her blood, and all he saw was red.
"Watch out!" Bonnie screamed, her hands coming up instinctively to cover her face.
#Some time later#
Bonnie awoke, already with a sinking feeling that she knew where she was, but looked around her anyway. She was in a brilliantly white room that must not have been more than three metres wide by two metres long. If only vaguely, she had atleast some idea why she was here, but for some reason she remembered only a little of what had brought her to this prison. Months, maybe even years, of her life had been removed. She didn't know how she could know this, she just knew she did. Where was Damon? Was he with her in the building or still unconcious in the wreck of the car? Where was Elena? She asked herself. Where was Meredith? If the tall, dark, mysterious Meredith were here too she would know for sure where she was. There was a sound, a whirring and a click, and she looked up at the ceiling. In the right hand corner there was a big black spider.
Vampires shouldn't be afraid of spiders, the rational side of her brain intoned, but as it scuttled down the wall Bonnie moved as far from it as she could. Her movements were lightening fast but she was too busy creating distance between her and the black thing to even be impressed. What was it? It certainly was not anything she had seen on earth before, and she had seen a lot. Was it a Malik? Because, if it was she had every right to be afraid. She pressed against the wall, helpless to do anything but watch it draw closer.
It crawled up her leg and the feel of it's pointy legs on her sensitive skin made her want to shake it off, if she were able to move. She was frozen as it climbed higher up her body, but inside she was screaming. The nearer it drew to her face the more she could see of it and she could see a lense in it's centre. While she was not as into gagets as some of her friends, she recognised the lense with the little red dot in the centre to be a camera. It moved around as she stared down at it, but she did not know who was on the other end watching her. It could be Damon, but he never scoped out his enemies lair before storming it. It was not the kind of thing Elena would ever think to use, and Meredith would have thought of a smarter alternative. That left only one person, and the thought of him spying on her remotely made her squirm. How long had the camera been watching her before she finally noticed it? Had he watched as she cried, had he smiled?
"Hello, Bonnie," a sickeningly familiar voice said from the little speaker on the robot's side, "Why did you have to run from me? It only makes me want want to catch you..."
Any fear she might have been feeling before was nothing to what she felt now. She could handle small, prestinely white, extremely small spaces any day of the week but what she could not stand was being held prisoner by someone who would probably want more from her than she was willing to give. The black, many-legged video camera quickly climbed up her body until it was on her breasts, and there it sat, motionless as it waited for its next order. Bonnie did not think that she had ever been so afraid as she was then – even if what held her captive was no bigger than her hand. She began to sweat as she waited for Klaus to begin speaking again; the suspence was worse, but she was sure he knew that already.
"You shouldn't have run from me," he said, his voice low and flat, "you really should not have, Bonnie, because now I'm a little angry..." His voice rumbled even through the little speaker, "... do you understand?" He paused for only a moment, "Do you have any idea how much I want to...?" She was still too innocent to know for sure what this meant, but she knew for a fact that the Originals were capable of great cruelty. "I'm coming for you." he told her, and she knew even without knowing the exact tone of his voice that it was a warning.
She slid to the floor with her back against the wall, too frightened to stand or even keep her eyes open. She was scared that if she even blinked the spider would crawl all over her face. She had always been terrified of any kind of insect, but spiders had always been the worst. One summer, many years ago, she, Elena, Meredith and Caroline had had a sleep-over at Elena's house, and they had had a great time together until midnight. The living room had been deep in shadow, none of them could have seen their own hands in front of their faces, and the window was open so they could take advantage of the bright lunar glow...
"Get it off of me!" She yelped, squirming as it's long black legs twitched threateningly. Her brain couldn't seem to grasp how stupid being afraid of this robotic thing was; it was not a real spider, but it was still creepy. "Please!" she cried, "Please, I beg you! Please, Klaus!"
"Those are the magic words..." he said, appearing like a ghost from the shadows outside the locked door, tapping his chin and looking up at the ceiling as if he suddenly was pensive, "Fine." The little spider-bug-robot thing released it's grip on her clothes and fell to the floor at her feet. It lay motionless, but she still did not feel like moving from against the wall. She glanced at the door, antisipation making the beads of moisture on her forehead grow cold. While she had gotten him to disable the little bug thing, she felt as if she had just made her situation worse. She was not stupid – she knew that Klaus would only watch her closer now. There were no other cameras that she could see, but that did not mean she was safe from him scrutiny.
"Where am I? What have you done to Damon?" She asked in a voice lacking in any emotionn, her feelings cealed tightly inside her, out of reach, so Klaus could not used them as a weapon. Even though he removed the robot from where it clutched her, she knew that he would stoop to destroying her from the inside if that was what he felt like doing, and with his powers he might be able to dredge the darkness up however deep she buried it. If she let him do that... then all would be lost, he'd have won and she would be dead. Power, she had power, but even the flicker of it in her mind was enough to alert Klaus to what she was thinking.
"Don't. Even. Think. About. It." he growled, ripping a portion of the T-shirt he was wearing and, wringing it in his hands as he approached her. He bit off every word as if to make himself clear, which he certainly was. He would rather kill her than tell her what she wanted to know, which seemed crazy, but she did not know for certain that Klaus was even sane at this moment. His eyes were wide and burning when he tried to corner her and failed.
"I didn't mean anything by it?" she tried, dodging his advance, but she knew before she said it that it would be useless because he would not listen. She was too slow reacting to his sudden movement another time and he caught her around the neck with the tattered cloth.
He tightened it only enough that it would a mark her skin and not strangle her. He did not want to kill her, her only wanted her to obey, and now had her on a leash. It would have been perfect if his heart did not feel so battered, to have her as his pet, but this felt like a hollow victory. Yes, maybe she was with him now, but not out of choice. Her heart was still in that pitiful vampire Damon's possession, and would be until he took her completely. He shook her not-so-gently, "You are mine, understand?" he hissed, forcing himself upon her lips and ravaging her. He doubted that Damon had ever kissed her like this.
In his dreams of her, he could never reach her fast enough. They were nightmares really, because while he could move faster than almost anything else on this world, he was never fast enough to save her. That lingering sense of failure stuck with him even when he awoke, like a phantom of bitter remembrance. It was maddening, this feeling of helplessness, and he groaned into the hard fabric pushed against his face. The smell of red-hot metal was the first thing that greeted him, before he opened his eyes. He was glad that vampire minds', as opposed to human ones, didn't go into shock. He remembered everything up until the collision, and he knew that Bonnie should be with him now. He straightened from where he had been bent over the steering wheel, scanning the immediate area for her, but saw nothing but the damned tree. He wasn't surprised, but then why should he? He already knew that this was done on purpose and felt pretty darn sure by whom.
The car door came off it's hinges with the force Damon used to push it open, and he through the scrap metal as far as he could into the distance. He heard a car alarm sound from that direction, but he did not care. All he could think about was finding Bonnie and slaying Klaus. He knew how he would do it too, he just had to find himself a nice pointy white-oak stake to drive into the miserable sod's chest. Wickery bridge was made out of white oak, he recalled, and he racing back to FellsChurch by foot before his brain even registered the command. Even if he had been too slow to save his lovely Bonnie, he was faster than a speeding bullet as he ran with all he had towards their home-town.
Meredith was buying flowers for the grandpa when she felt the subtle change in the area. It probably wouldn't have been distinguishable to anyone without her training or familiarity with the supernatural, but it was there and she knew that something powerful was coming closer with every second. She had left her fighting stave at home, thinking it unlikely that she would need to defend herself against man-eating flowers, but she scolded herself now. She was in Fell's Church after all – she should have it with her at all times. She paid the shopkeeper dazedly and took the flowers with her outside. She could see nothing to the west, just rows of buildings and the main road through the town, but when she turned east and squinted into the distance she saw something she had never thought she was ever see.
Damon was actually, in broad day light no less, tearing into Whickery bridge as if he hoped to find something other than water beneath it. People were beginning to take notice not only to stop their cars to gawk at this amazing show of strength, but to get out as well – which did not bode well for the supernatural community at large. Those people must be beginning to wonder what had possessed him (probably not literally possessed) and it would only be a matter of minutes before the town's police arrived to investigate – which could only lead to disaster, she was sure.
She rushed out of the shop at full speed, pushing herself to sprint faster than she had ever before, the flowers all but forgotten on the shop floor. She would buy some more after she dealt with this; flowers were not as important as the Town's safety; flowers could be replaced, but a community? Normal, human, town members never recovered from this kind of thing if and when it struck them. Maybe it was the fierce passion to do what was right she felt, but she did not hesitate before grabbing Damon's shoulder and wrenching him back with everything she had.
"What are you doing!" she hissed at him when he ignored her touch. "You can not collect fire wood right now!" She said this for the benefit of the human crowd watching them, but she was aware that Whickery bridge was made with the wood from a white oak tree. He could have used any old wood for killing a normal vampire – he needed this wood to kill an original. In the next moment, she crouched by his side, scooping up the splintered pieces of wood and cradling it in her arms as if it were a baby. "Where?" she asked, knowing that she was going to help Damon do whatever he needed to do even if he was a vampire. More than just her pride was at stake here, she could sense it.
"The forest," he said, knowing that his red-bird was probably long gone by now, but hoping that he could pick up her scent and follow it until he found her, the source of everything that meant anything. "Will you help me, Meredith?" he asked with surprising sincerity.
She blinked and shook herself, as if she could hardly believe he was even speaking to her, "What do you need me to do?" She didn't know what to make of his sudden change in attitude towards her, and it left her feeling at little disorientated. Normally there was a certain kind of tension between them whenever they spoke, but now all that was gone. There was only a dreadful desperation in his eyes.
Meredith found herself racing him to the forest, the feel of the crisp air on her face surprisingly pleasant, and she enjoyed seeing the surprise in his face when he saw that she was keeping up with his ultra-fast sprint. She had always been a fast runner, always, and she enjoyed having to work at her speed for once. She could tell how good a hunter Damon was just by his posture, the grace he put into every movement, and it was just another reminder why she ought to be thinking of killing him instead helping him. What would the other hunters in her family say if they found out that she were helping a vampire retrieve someone they would see as being in the Vampire's thrall.
He was suprised at her speed, but then he remembered about her part-vampire state. He was still faster but he could appreciate the upgrade just the same. She maintained the speed until they got to the first wall of trees, but it was there that she slowed. She bent over with her hands on her knees, inhaling air as if she would never get enough of it, but was still extremely fit for a human of the twenty-first century. "Impressive," he told her, the first bit of genuine praise she had ever gotten from him; he had admitted to her that she was a good fighter, at least with the stave, but it had come across as a little half-hearted, as if he were reluctant to say it.
"How good are you at carpentry?" he asked her, disappearing in a flash and leaving her standing, alone, between trees that seemed incresingly close.
Meredith felt droplets fall on her face and she looked up at the leafy canopy. If Bonnie were here with her she would have insisted that this place was infused wtih magic, but even she could feel it, she knew this place held power because even she could feel it lifting the small hairs on her forearms. She clutched the stave tightly and tried to ignore the rising panic within her, the feeling that she had made a mistake in thinking that she could trust him not to screw her over – a vampire who had never been anything but arrogent and self-serving for his whole vampiric existance. He should be the kind that she fought against, not respected.
"Which way now?" she asked with her usual straight-forward approach, determined not to reveal to him her inner termoil or her uneasiness about his sudden disappearance. The moments before he answered her seemed to stretch infinately, her heart beating so slow it might have stopped.
"Heads up." he called from somewhere above her in the tallest branches of the tree to her right. She instinctively stepped back and a piece of wood impaled itself in the rock hard dirt where she had been standing. She moved to it and crouched, studying it as closely as she dared, and another pale object landed in the ground just a metre behind her – she wondered if she should be frightened that Damon seemed to be trying to hit her.
But he dropped only two and landed with cat-like grace clutching another five whitened branches. She might be more agile than a whole human, but she was still no match for a genuine vampire, and yet he felt no need to point that out to her – which was weird because he ordinarily enjoyed flaunting any perseved advantage over others at any opportunity. He pulled a wicked looking knife from inside his jacket and began to shape one end of the thickest of the sticks into a point. He glanced up at her through his thick black lashes and smiled ironically, "Don't suppose I should be showing you how to manifacture weapons, you might use them against me someday." There was a playful glint in his eye as he said this, but she could tell he was serious.
"You don't have to worry if I'll stab you in the back," she said, trying to match his playfullness, "I know you only want the best for Bonnie, that you want to make sure she's safe, and for once I think we both want the same thing." Could she really work with one of the creatures she had been brought up to despise? "I trust you not betray me either, Damon, so please don't make me regret it."
"No worries, I have no intention of doing anything that you don't want me to do." He smiled one of his trademark there-one-minute-gone-the-next smiles, the inuendo so obvious that she found being flooded by exhasperation.
"I'll follow you," Meredith said, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifting in challenge, even when there was no way she would be comfortable with him moving silently behind her – some things were too much even for a black-belt like her.
"Yes, follow me." Damon dropped his flirtatious attitude so quickly that it could have just as easily been a trick of her imagination. Maybe he was cowed that his charm was useless on her, she didn't know, but he appeared suddenly exhausted by their conversation – maybe he was really anxious to get to Bonnie and have her safe in his arms – maybe the Damon that had loved Elena, or Katherine, for centuries was gone and a newer Damon was in love with Bonnie. This she could only hope, because if he broke her heart, Meredith would make sure he understood the extent she was willing to go to protect her friends.
Damon did not trust her not to use a blade against him, and so he kept it for himself. He figured that if she was a resourceful as she boasted, she would able to find away to cut the wood without it. He could have done the same, of course, but a knife was so much easier. He struck the white oak at twenty-two degrees exactly, ensuring that when he drove the stake home it would puncture the Original's heart.
Meredith appeared from behind a rock, holding two of the pieces of white-oak, the ends now sharpened and deadly. Her expression was as disturbing as ever, but she did not seem to be preparing to stake him either. Her cool indifference was what made her strong, he recognised grudgingly, and right now she was probably more capable of saving Bonnie than he. She strode to the bag she had brought with her and began stuffing the weapons inside any way that she could, not even seeming to breathe. Her confidence made Damon uneasy, but he would damned if he revealed anything of it to her.
"Do you need any help?"
Damon scowled and shook his head. He knew how to do this, he just had to remember.
Klaus found her trying to hide in the furthest corner of the tiny cell when he returned after satisfying his hunger enough that there would be little danger of him losing control when she bled for him. Her back was to him, but he knew that she had her head against her up-raised knees; the sound of her hitched breathing was quieter now than it had been when he left her, no doubt because she pressed her mouth against her flesh – muffling the sound. Before he had departed to satisfy his craving for blood, he had commanded her not to make a sound, and now he would have to punish her for defying him – so she knew not to do it again. If she were going to be a good pet, the bitch would have to learn to follow the commands of her master without fail. He strode to her and tugged her head back by taking a fist-full of her crimson locks.
Bonnie felt herself being jerked backwards and she screamed as the pain at her scalp was like a thousand pins pricking her flesh. She scruched eyes closed as the tears over-flowed her eyes and tried to pretend that this was not happening. She tried to convince herself that this was just a nightmare and that she would wake up soon, but did not make this torture any easier to bare. She felt his hand on her chin and they shot open reflexivly; His face was blurred from her tears but it still sent her heart racing in her chest. Had she suffered enough at his hands, was he here to kill her now?
He crouched down before her, his eyes bright with excitement as they bore into her's. He trapped her in his gaze as if it were a prison of steel. "Why do you fight this, Bonnie?" he whisped close to her ear, his breath burning hot on her cheek. He held her still with a hand at either side of her face and pressed his mouth against her's hard enough to make her teeth ache. His tongue searched for her's until he found it, but even then it explored every corner of her mouth and the hands that had been on her face touched every inch of her body, as if only now discovering her. "Why do resist what is burning between us, you must be feeling it too..." His voice was soft and velvety smooth, but still agonizing to hear.
"I'm—not—fighting..." she bit each word out as if they had a bitter taste, "... anything!" Even as his fingers caressed her leg she felt nothing. Her heart rate only increased when she substituted his hands for Damon's, and even then she only blushed a little. The sensation was not the same, the heat gone and his lips were cold. What she did not tell him, what she could hardly admit to herself, was that while her brain withdrew from him, her body melted until there was no space between their bodies.
She clutched him so tightly that it might have been funny. For all of her courage in helping him, she was still afraid of what he might do to her. He would never lay a hand on her, she ought to have known this by now, but it seemed as if he had to remind her of this. Her face was pressed against his chest and his natural scent sent a wave of diziness through her, as if his vampire poison leaked from his pores as well as from his fangs.
Damon stopped moving as rapidly as he had begun running, his senses finally picking up more than just her smell. He released Meredith from his embrace, but his arms then hung loosely around her body. He would not release her until he was sure they hadn't been followed. They stood in front of a non-descript stone building, but both of them could tell by the power inside. He wanted her to stay behind while he went in, to keep her from getting killed inadvertingly, but he knew that she would never turn her back on her friend. Stupid girl, he thought with a smile, stupid, loyal, fearless girl.
"Is this the place?" she whispered.
Damon nodded. This was it, the cage in which his bird was trapped, the castle he would have to storm to rescue his fare maiden. "Keep close to me, I don't want to have to wait for you – in fact, I won't wait for anything."
Klaus kissed her softly as he laid her down, sensing that their time together was growing short but not wanting to scare her.
He kissed her and pulled away. Klaus's body was practically vibrating with the need for more, but he had already taken as much as he could; she had stopped bleeding, but he could tell that she was still sore from the tears that fell onto her cheeks. He hadn't had a virgin in a very long time, centuries even, but it was worth the wait to hear her scream his name. He stood, his naked body feeling warm after the intense friction of their bodies rubbing together, and the knowlege that this experience could be repeated over and over. He slit a vein on the underside of his wrist with one of his sharp nails and held it to her lips, knowing even before she sucked at the wound that she would not be able to resist taking his blood. "That's a good girl," he cooed, supporting the back of her head with his hand, "you must be hungry."
She was. There was a burning in her chest that felt like tongues of fire reaching into her throat, and the only way to extguish the flames was by gulping down the sweet red liquid. It tasted so good, she didn't want to stop, and when Klaus tried to pry her from him she snapped her jaws in protest like a rabid dog. She did not care that she might bite him, that he was a strong being, she only wanted to taste his blood straight from the artery. She growled at him, but cowered away when he snarled back with ten times the menace. He was suddenly in her face, teeth bared and eyes dark as coals in the shadow, she she instinctively knew of his dominence over her. He could rip her throat out in a matter of seconds and they both knew it. "Please..." she begged, putting every last bit of her desperation into the word.
"Please, what?" he asked her, lifting a perfectly shaped eyebrow and making no move to do anything until she specified what she wanted, though he already knew. This was his favourite part of the whole ordeal – knowing that he had the power to control what she could do. He enjoyed playing this game, and he invisioned that it would be a long while before he tired of it. He was her master, she his slave, and she would learn to be submissive to him or risk being punished for her insolence, but he wished for the latter.
Her face contorted with agonizing pain. "Please, Master. Please feed me..." Her mind recoiled from her own words, hating that she was reduced to this, to a toy for Klaus to enjoy as he wished, but she had already been punished enough that it was obvious this was better than the alternative. She needed blood like she would have needed water on a hot day before, and every moment without it was torture. "Please, Master..." she whimpered – she did not know how much more she could take of this before her brain finally turned to mush or her stomach cramped itself into a knot of pain.
He kissed her tenderly and left her using vampire speed to make his movements quick enough that he disappeared. He was as silent as he was fast, and within moments he was back with a white cooler with a red cross on the side. It was from the local hospital, she recognised with a feeling of dread. What were the chances that she would find ice-lollies, instead of blood-packets, on ice? Pretty slim, she bet. Klaus opened the box with a flourish, revealing the crimson contents, and offered her a bag in his out-stretched hand.
But his expression became still as he listened something she could not yet hear herself; the lack of blood was making her senses back down to human level. She was so hungry... or was it thirsty? She shrugged her shoulders feebly in responce to the question only she could hear – she did not know either way. Klaus said something in German that sounded a lot like a swear-word in English. "Damon – I suggest you don't come any closer."
Meredith relaxed and let the air she had been holding in her lungs out in a loud woosh. Her and Damon's stealth had gotten them past all of the vampire guards, and she was relieved that it was only now that they had been noticed. A thick ripple of power came from Damon, a super-natural flexing of muscles, and it felt like an electric shock. She had known that Damon was a powerful vampire but the shear level of it caught her off guard. She had to shake herself before she could resume her fighter's stance, her magical stave gripped tightly in her right hand.
"Damon," he began, sounding for all the world like he was greeting a friend, "What a pleasure it is to see you again, me and Bonnie here were just getting to know each other better..."
Meredith put a steadying hand on Damon's shoulder, "Don't lose it, we only have one chance..."
"One chance at what?" Klaus asked, a hint of menace entering his otherwise charming tone, his hand tightening on Bonnie's arm until he heard the bone break. He wanted her to scream, as she did, just to show the other vampire the ease in which he could. He had already guessed that they would try to fight him for her, but he was an Original and there was nothing either of them could do to stop from doing exactly what he wanted to do.
"Now!" Damon roared, racing for Bonnie with all the speed he had at his disposal.
From behind a an arched door-way, and from behind the shadows, two figures appeared and stepped into the light where their faces could be seen, both wearing the same expresion of fury. Stefan was carrying a duffel-bag that over-flowed with the only weapon dangerous to a creture such as he. "Bonnie!" he shouted, "Stop them!"
Bonnie found herself turning to Damon, who was closest, and baring her newly pointed teeth in a way that he knew meant danger. He knew that she would feel compelled to do as her sire commanded.
Elena stood beside Stefan, who stood beside Meredith, and her back was straight and whose eyes were narrowed. Although they were not as cat-like as Caroline's, not green but blue, the effect was still the same. There was an itensity in them that Bonnie recognised immeadiately – a fierce protectiveness that belonged to her as much as Stefan did. Stefan, standing silently beside her, looked twice as strong as when Bonnie had last seen him. Had he taken some of Elena's blood to give him the strength he needed? Only something just as magically charged could have the same effect on him as the crimson stream which flowed through Elena's veins.
Damon could not bring himself to bare his own teeth at her, although Bonnie was snarling in antisipation of attacking him. She was still Bonnie, his sweet red-bird, even when there was something wild about her now, and so his body remained in it's relaxed pose. His heart broke just looking at her, even though in his mind he was the predator – as ruthless and cold as a wolf – only focused on doing what was neccessary to survive. If she attacked him he was sure that he could take her down and then go after Klaus, but he would not kill her. He would not live with that kind of unrelenting regret again, he would not live without her as he had gone on without Katherine.
"Let her go, Klaus!" Elena demanded, putting a suprising amount to fury into each word, as if each one was a punch. She stepped forwards into the light, Stefan and Meredith close on her heels, until they were all three fully visible and then she stood, her mouth moving but making no sound. Meredith raised the stave as if preparing for a fight, dropping down into a fighting stance that had never failed her before.
"Kill them all!" Klaus was staring intently at Bonnie and Damon could sense the power he was using to compell her to do as he said. His lapse of attention cost him the moments he would have needed to react, and he felt her little fingers at his throat. She was not squeezing too hard, but her nails were sharp and they dug into his flesh; the tansformation from human to vampire had changed more than just her eating preferences; it had made every part of her a weapon that Klaus could, and would, use against him. "How does it feel her hands around your neck, Damon?" he taunted, smiling as if watching something he found very entertaining, "Does it feel good to have her touching you again?" He was trying to provoke Damon into killing his darling princess, although he would probably murder Damon afterwards too, as well.
Damon had not survived all these centuries by being as weak as his little brother. The only reason he wasn't lying dead somewhere was that he had been the smart one, or the most ruthless. Whereas being in love had made Stefan especially weak and vulnerable, his passion for Bonnie would make him the most dangerous enemy that the ancient Original had ever, ever had. Klaus thought that he had gained something he could use, but in reality he had made the biggest mistake of his existance. If he thought that turning Bonnie would give him the upper hand in this battle he was mistaken.
The small part of her that was still rational and could think for itself was trying to remember the reason why this is the last thing she should have been doing with this man. She knew, somewhere deep inside, that this should be the last thing she wanted to be doing, but this inclination to stop was dwarfed by the irrational need to kill. She may not know the reason for this rage, but it was strong and she could not ignore it. She wanted to kill Damon, tear him apart like an animal, and that was the only thing her body wanted to do.
"Don't fight me," Damon said in a low, dangerous, voice, "You don't want to fight me, Bonnie."
Bonnie felt the compulsion to do the exact opposite of what he suggested grow into something even more raw inside her. The seed of an idea Klaus had planted in her mind was biginning to germinate, growing bigger and stronger until it was impossible to try and shake off, and she felt what little control she had ebbing away. It was the vampire side of her nature that wanted to kill Damon and she was becoming less and less human with every moment that passed.
"Don't bother," the old one said, moving so he was standing behind her, "she only does what I tell her to do." He lent down and brushed his lips on her cheek, illustrating his point that she would let him do anything to her that he wished. "Isn't that right, Sweetheart?" His long, bony fingers wrapped possesively around both of Bonnie's arms, his fingers pressing hard enough into her skin that he could have touched the little muscle there was beneath.
She felt herself nod slowly, uncontrollably, while she screamed in her head No!
"I doubt you have it in you to murder yet another of your lovers, Damon." He stepped back from Bonnie, confidence coming from his every movement, the result of the fight, if there was one, already predetermined in his mind. He had known what even hinting at Katherine would do to him; he was predictable and it would be his downfall.
"You underestimate me—what I am capable of." Damon snarled, adjusting his pose to a predators crouch, his whole body turned to meet Bonnie's. Even he could not fully comprehend what he himself was thinking, but his instincts told him this was the only way to free her from Klaus's control, the only way this could end.
"Bonnie," he said in nicest voice he could manage, a soft, almost whisper, "Look at me."
Even as she did what he said and looked into his emerald green eyes, Damon could feel that part of her did not want to. She was the most powerful new vampire he had ever seen, but she was still Bonnie – his Bonnie – deep inside, and maybe deep inside she still loved him. He knew that he still loved her and he knew that anyone who looked at him now would know it too. He felt odd whenever he saw her, or imagined that he could, even now when she was intent on ripping out this throat. Beside Stefan Elena let out a small cry, but Damon's hand was already wrapped tightly around Bonnie's throat, "Don't make me kill you, Bonnie..." She snarled and bore her glistening white teeth, almost as if daring him to do it, but he never intended to follow through with the threat even if she fought him. Who was he kidding? He could never hurt her in a way that would be permanent, and he would never kill her despite his threat. Even if she had to be locked in a cell for all her days, surrounded by vermin, he would never kill her. She turned to Klaus and smiled that smile which she usually reserved for Damon, and only him.
"You do not want him, do you Bonnie?" Klaus asked her in a sly tone, his eyes wide and as penetrating as a needle through wool. He waited until he had all of Damon's attention before he continued in that same sultry voice. "You want to stay here with me..." he breathed the words directly into her mouth, "don't you..." he leant into her and trapped her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling at it while applying just enough pressure for her to be able to think of nothing else but the sensation. He looked back at Damon and saw with some satisfaction that his eyes were burning and his fists were clenched. Next, he ran his mouth down the side of her neck and over her collar bone, just slow enough that there would be no mistaking the sound of his tongue on her skin – he knew Damon would be able to hear it even without seeing his face.
"Don't..." she whimpered, all the fight leaving her in one second, squeezing her eyes closed and trying not to feel him touching, what he was doing to her, and the sight sent a physical pain through Damon.
He felt more than simply weak, standing there, helpless to do anything but watch. There wasn't an expletive strong enough to describe the level of the uselessness he felt as he stood there – unable to do anything but watch him mark her with his mouth. If he were able to save her—when he did save her—marking her as his anyway he could, both with his mouth and other areas, would be a priority; he would mark her no one would ever mistake her as anything but his... his love, his life, his reason... again...
Klaus kissed along the sticky, wet, slimy trail of saliva across her neck, ignoring her like she was just a treat. He could taste the magic on her skin and knew that she would prove very useful to him in the future. With her power he would be more than an Original vampire, he would be the most powerful being on this earth. His tongue dipped into the little dip at the centre of her neck and he felt her whole body shiver beneath the hands he held to her.
"You b*stard, get the hell away from her!" Damon growled, his eyes so dark that they shined bright and gleamed. He did not see Klaus as a dangerous adversary now, he saw him as someone who stood between him and what he wanted – and anyone who did that never lived long once Damon caught up with them – no matter who they were.
"Make me." Klaus sneered.
What he did not know was that when Bonnie and Damon had locked gazes, even for that short time, more than breath passed between them. She could not comprehend exactly how she knew it, but the witch inside was stronger because of her vampirism, despite the contrast between the two powers. Now Damon was equal to Klaus, if not stronger. He moved with such speed that it rendered truly invisible instead of his usual blur.
Even Klaus could not see him coming, not until he was right before him, a fist in his face. His head fell backwards as if his neck could no longer support it. Damon hit him again before he could recover and reached down to pull something he had lodged on the inside of his shoe. He drove the white oak stake home.
Klaus looked down at the wood protruding from his chest, seemingly stunned into immobility, and then at Bonnie, Whose eyes were wet and unbearably sad. He smiled as if to reassure her, but within moments the expression was frozen on his face, the skin that had formed it growing ridged and grey. For a long moment after the last piece of him shifted, she held her breath and waited for what she felt was inevitable.
"I'm afraid of turning my back on him," Bonnie admitted.
Damon put his arms around her, "You don't have to be scared any more," he said, kissing her forehead affectionately, "I will always protect you."