The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unspoken (20 page)

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t bear to drink from her anymore.

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

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

#TVD12AllorNothing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jack.

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

Or maybe he was going to kill her first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jack paused, looking at her with his bright, inquisitive brown eyes, and then shook his head. “Take the deal, Meredith,” he said. “If you don’t, I’ll come after your friends. I always get what I want.”

“Go to hell,” Meredith snarled. She clutched the stake in her pocket and gauged the distance between them, her muscles tensing. He was so relaxed on the car’s hood, not alert to danger. If she moved fast enough…

Jack smiled at her, his big, beautiful, warm smile. “Go to hell?” he echoed, his tone light. “This whole world is hell, Meredith, you should know that by now. The only choice is whether you’re a demon or a victim.”

His grin widened, and he leaned back on his hands, turning his face up to the sun. “You know which side you’re on, don’t you?”

Now.
Yanking the stake from her pocket, Meredith lunged at him.

And, suddenly, Jack moved so fast that all she saw was a blur. Her hair lifted in the breeze as he passed.

He was gone.

D
ear Diary,

I shouldn’t be enjoying anything about this.

We’re in serious trouble. Jack won’t stop sending his vampires after us until either we kill him or he kills Damon. He’s powerful and relentless, and I know how intelligent he is—he fooled us all.

When I close my eyes, sometimes I see Damon falling, a stake through his chest, and it feels so real. I can see the pain in the tight lines of Damon’s body, the blood streaming from the wound. Agony rips through me—I’m losing something I thought was mine, that I thought was forever.

It feels just like when Stefan died.

Our search for Siobhan is the slenderest of leads. I should be panicking. Damon is in terrible danger.

And I should be grieving for Stefan just as hard as I was a month ago.

Nothing has changed. If anything, things have gotten worse.

And yet…

Elena glanced up from her journal toward the driver’s seat.

Damon was driving, his long, strong fingers curled around the wheel, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon.
He was so beautiful,
Elena thought, examining the fine bones under his flawless pale skin, the soft curve of his mouth, the straight line of his nose. He glanced at her, and his lips curled into a brief smile before his eyes went back to the road. A pulse of affection went through the bond between them, and Elena wasn’t sure whom it had come from.

Damon hums when he doesn’t know I’m listening
, she wrote, turning back to her journal.
Tunes I don’t recognize, dances and holy music from the long centuries he lived in Europe, but other things, too: the ballet music Margaret dances to, old Beatles songs, pop from the radio.

Even though he technically died centuries ago, Damon’s more alive than most people. I remember what Stefan said, back when he first told me their story.

After they rose and realized what they had become, Stefan ran, horrified, far beyond the city gates, preying on animals for fear of harming humans. Damon joined a band of mercenaries, fighting his way across Europe, drinking human blood amid the slaughter and confusion of battle.

Stefan made the noble choice. Damon was wicked, then. But Stefan held himself apart from humanity, caring too much to endanger them by coming close. Damon was right there in the thick of it, always, and it’s kept him almost human, tangled up with our warm bodies and complicated, messy emotions.

I loved Stefan so much, with all my heart. I
still
love him. I’ll never stop.

Damon is flawed and quick tempered and selfish. He’s as likely to do the wrong thing as he is the right one.

Damon and I are more alike than Stefan and I ever were. I’m spoiled and headstrong, and I want everyone to fall in line with my plans. The worst things anyone ever said about me are sometimes true.

And despite everything—despite Jack, and poor Meredith, and everyone depending on the slimmest chance that we’re following the right lead here—I’m having fun. It feels easy and natural, gliding along the roads together, hunting for Siobhan.

This isn’t the first time we’ve traveled like this. When Stefan was missing, imprisoned in the Dark Dimension, we looked for him together. And it was fun then, too.

But then, Stefan was waiting for me. Now he’s gone. We’re going to avenge Stefan, not save him. It’s too late for that.

Elena’s breath hitched, and she tightened her jaw. She wasn’t going to cry again, not now. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Damon glance toward her and then his hand, cool and reassuring, brushed her shoulder. Elena sniffed and looked back down at her journal.

Would it be so wrong? If Damon and I stopped fighting these feelings we’ve always had for each other?

I made up my mind. I chose Stefan, and I’ve never regretted it.

But now he’s gone, and I’m going to live
forever.
Alone forever. I can’t help panicking every time I think of it.

I could turn to Damon. I’m not going to lie to myself about that. I can have him, if I want him. If I stopped holding myself back, I could fall into his arms, and I know he’d catch me.

But I don’t know if I can. For years, my feelings for Damon tainted what Stefan and I had. It
hurt
Stefan that I loved Damon, too.

Would turning to Damon now be my last, worst betrayal of Stefan?