The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unseen

by L. J. Smith

  Nonphysical methods of identification proved more difficult at first to bypass. Test subjects were readily identified as unnatural by humans with highly developed senses: so-called “psychics” and “seers.”

  Auras, Damon thought. He’s talking about people who can read auras, like Elena. The doctor had eventually found a way around this, too. Through intensive meditation and a high dosage of serotonin inhibitors, the lab-created vampires had managed to learn to hide or disguise their auras.

  This, Damon thought, absently tapping the page with one finger, could be useful. He read on.

  Finally, after so many trials and errors, the experiment has been an unqualified success. My subjects have all the advantages of the natural vampire: They do not appear to age or contract illnesses, they are stronger and faster than humans, they have highly developed senses. And yet I have been able to circumvent the disadvantages that keep natural vampires from being the perfect predators: Unlike their wild cousins, my subjects are not endangered by wood or sunlight. The time has come to move on to Stage B of the experiment.

  Stage B? Damon flipped forward again and blinked in surprise at what he found. In the next stage of his experiment, the doctor had used the technique on himself. It made sense, Damon supposed. Certainly if he had created the ultimate predator, he wouldn’t want to remain prey.

  This didn’t really explain why the doctor’s lab-manufactured vampires had been coming after Damon, though. He kept reading.

  To take dominance in the natural world, it is necessary to eliminate competitive species. The vampire has survived unchanged for too long; in some cases for thousands of years. These targets must be eliminated for my bold new world to be possible. The greatest threat to my new creations is their inspiration: the traditional vampire.

  Turning one more page, Damon found two lists of names.

  The first was Old Ones, he recognized immediately. First names only—the Old Ones came from a time before people needed more than one name. Klaus, Celine, Benevenuto, Alexander—Old Ones he knew Stefan and his friends had killed, each one crossed out in black ink. Other names he didn’t recognize—Chihiro, Gunnar of the North, Milimo, Pachacuti—were crossed out in red.

  Only one name remained unmarked: Solomon.

  “You’ve been busy, Doctor Jekyll,” Damon muttered, tracing over the red-crossed names with one finger.

  The second list was much longer—and much worse. Many of these crossed-out names were vampires Damon knew.

  Anne Grimmsdotir: a quiet, fierce girl who had wandered the North since the days of the Vikings. She didn’t talk much, but she was graceful and quick.

  Sophia Alexiou: beautiful, elegant Sophia, whom Damon had spent a Mediterranean winter with once, more than a century ago.

  Abioye Ogunwale: Sharp-tongued and stubborn, he’d always been a gambler. He’d won Damon’s favorite boots in a card game, back in the seventeenth century.

  Damon stared at the names, an uncomfortable tightness growing in his chest. They hadn’t been friends, these vampires—Damon didn’t really make friends—but they were people Damon had met again and again over the course of a very long life. Old vampires, strong vampires, who’d hunted and traveled and survived for centuries. All of them murdered for a bold new world of man-made vampires?

  Halfway down the page was written: Katherine von Swartzschild. It hadn’t been crossed out yet. “Behind the times, Doctor,” Damon said softly, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of her name.

  At the bottom of the page, the last names on the list: Damon Salvatore. Stefan Salvatore. Dalcrest, Virginia.

  Damon placed his hand flat on the book and took a breath, thinking hard.

  There were very few people in the world about whom he gave a damn. Now that Katherine was dead, that list was pretty much limited to Elena and Stefan. If pushed, he might admit to a sentimental fondness for his little redbird Bonnie, and a grudging respect for Meredith, the hunter. And every single one of these people was in Dalcrest, Virginia.

  Damon stuffed the book into the front of his coat pocket and slipped out of the lab, as silent as a shadow, almost as if he were already becoming a ghost.

  #TVD11TVDsMostWanted

  “A toast!” Alaric said, raising his glass high. “To the end of the Old Ones!” Everyone clinked their glasses as a wave of giddy laughter flooded Elena and Stefan’s apartment. Wrapping her fingers around the stem of her wineglass, Elena looked around and smiled at their gathered friends.

  It was hard to believe that a few hours ago they’d been in the dim, cold underground, unable to move. Elena had been so sure it was the end for all of them.

  And then, in the midst of the cold, she’d felt a tiny spark of warmth. Bonnie’s hand, where it touched her arm, was the only warm thing in the whole world. I’m here, Elena, she heard Bonnie say into her mind. Let me in. Focusing all her energy on that one spot, Elena had sent Power to Bonnie in a steady, thin stream. And Bonnie had freed Stefan.

  Stefan’s arms wrapped around her from behind, jarring her from the unsettling memory. He kissed her neck lightly, then laughed, more relaxed than Elena had seen him in a long, long time. We’re free, he told her silently whenever their lips touched, we’re free. You’re safe.

  Tomorrow they would make plans—head out to Europe to find Damon, and make sure he was safe. Then together they would wander Europe, all of it, the cobblestone streets of Stefan’s past and the tall, glass cities of the modern age. Paris, Elena thought, remembering the time she had been there in high school, before she even met Stefan. It felt like a lifetime ago. She couldn’t wait to go back and see it all again, with Stefan by her side.

  Tomorrow they would begin the rest of their endless lives. But for now they were with their friends, and Elena was happy.

  Even Trinity was with them, looking pale and thin, but alive.

  Jack stood, and Trinity looked up at him, her gaze full of hero worship. I wonder if he’ll tell her he was planning to kill her, part of Elena wondered, somewhat cynically.

  Jack smiled widely and warmly around at them all. He was using his hunter’s stave like a walking stick, resting his weight on it lightly. “To unlikely allies and unexpected friends,” he said, raising his glass.

  Elena joined in the toast and then felt her phone vibrate. She paused to discreetly fish it out of her bag and glance at the screen. It was a voice mail from Damon. Tentatively, she poked at the connection between them, and almost recoiled at the anxiety pulsing through their bond.

  Before she could slip quietly out of the room, Jack walked over to her and Stefan, blocking her exit. “Stefan, you’ve been a huge help in this hunt,” he said. Elena nudged Stefan with her foot, and they exchanged a private smile. She was pretty sure that Stefan had ended up leading the hunt, not just helping with it.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Stefan told Jack solemnly. “To know that all the threats we’ve been chasing for so long are gone at last. Elena and I are so happy.”

  “Almost all the threats,” Jack said thoughtfully, and Elena’s head snapped up at the new, darker tone in his voice. And then she saw, panicking, that Jack’s aura was wrong. Rusty red, the color of dried blood, was running through the familiar warm brown, spreading like a web of veins. Elena opened her mouth to shout a warning, but she was too late.

  Baring his teeth to show his elongated canines—and how could he be a vampire, Elena would have known, Stefan would have known—Jack moved, faster and smoother than Elena would have believed possible, and slammed his stave cleanly through Stefan’s chest. Stefan gasped, a long, rattling gasp, then fell heavily to the floor. Jack ran out the door before Elena could even scream.

  Elena fell to her knees as the room erupted into chaos around her. Alaric laid a hand on the stave to pull it from Stefan’s chest but Meredith stopped him. “Pulling it out won’t help,” she said. “If it’s still there, it might give him more time.”

  Elena only had eyes for Stefan, but he was blurry through her tears. “Hol
d on, Stefan,” she said desperately, stroking his face. He muttered something and scrabbled at her arm, his fingers weak. “Bonnie!” Elena screamed. “Bonnie, can’t you fix—?” Bonnie dropped to her knees beside them, her face white, but shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s a spell for this—” she said frantically.

  Elena reached for her Guardian Power and sent its golden light racing through Stefan, trying to heal what was broken. But the dark and cold radiating from the stake in his heart swallowed up the light as fast as she could feed it to him. He was sinking; she could feel it. He was slipping away.

  Stefan’s eyes were glazing over, and his grip on Elena’s arm loosened. “No, no!” Elena was yelling, grabbing at him, trying to keep him with her. “Please, Stefan.”

  Tears were dripping off her face onto Stefan’s, running over his pale cheeks. No, no, no, Elena’s mind babbled frantically. Not like this; we’re supposed to have forever together. Please. Please.

  Stefan’s eyes were moving beneath his lids, flicking from side to side. His breath rattled in his chest. His face was tight, almost fearful. Elena took his hand in hers and pressed her lips to his.

  Her mind and Stefan’s touched, the instant connection between them as strong as ever, and she wrapped him in her consciousness, trying to hold him, to keep him safe. She would never let him be afraid, not if she could help it.

  But darkness and emptiness were spreading through him. Stefan, my love, my darling, she thought, please. That was all she could think of, protestations of love, pet names, and the single word please. Please stay with me, my darling one. Hang on. I love you. Her tears fell against his cold face, her lips warm against his cold ones.

  Elena? His mind reached out for hers. He was disoriented, and she clung to him, trying to reassure him. It’s all right, she thought desperately. It’ll all be okay.

  You can’t save me, Elena. Stefan’s thought was terribly sad, but there was no trace of fear in it. I’m so sorry. I thought we’d be safe. I thought we’d have our whole, long lives together. I wish there were time.

  No! Don’t go, Elena thought, pleading, frantic. Please, I can’t let you go.

  I don’t want to. But be happy without me. Promise me you’ll find a way to be happy.

  Elena couldn’t imagine ever being happy again. I promise, she thought, tears running down her face.

  Believe in yourself. Trust your friends. He sounded terribly tired, but there was a warmth in his thoughts that felt like a smile. Never forget how much I love you. You deserve to be loved.

  Elena choked back a sob. Stefan, you’re the love of my life. My whole life. His consciousness brushed against hers like a caress.

  The darkness that had infected Stefan rolled on, taking over more and more of him, as unstoppable as a tide. Elena held onto him, sending more of her Power through him, but the darkness swallowed it like a black hole, swallowed everything, until she was just lying with her arms around him, murmuring, Stefan, I love you, I love you, please …

  The dark tide rolled out, and took Stefan with it.

  #TVD11RIP

  “I gave Elena valerian and some other sedative herbs and sat with her until she fell asleep,” Bonnie said, coming out of the bedroom. “She couldn’t stop crying, but eventually she just passed out.”

  She had felt so helpless, watching Elena lying there, tears slipping silently from her closed eyes and down her cheeks, looking small in the bed she’d shared with Stefan.

  Tears flooded Bonnie’s eyes. Stefan had been so strong, the calm at the center of the storm, and he and Elena had been the focus of their group, the ones the others all revolved around. She couldn’t quite comprehend him being dead.

  Meredith and Matt were seated on the sofa in the living room, looking as broken as Bonnie felt. Bonnie went over to them with a sigh, pulling her feet under her on the sofa and curling up next to Meredith. Zander was with most of the Pack, combing the woods in search of Jack, while Alaric was researching, trying to find what kind of vampire could hide his aura like Jack had. Trinity, Darlene, and Alex had returned to their motel, where four of the Pack watched over them, just in case. But the remaining hunters had seemed as shocked as the others that Jack was a vampire. Bonnie remembered that Jack wasn’t really one of them, that he had come to this group and enlisted them in his quest to kill Solomon.

  Bonnie was glad the others were somewhere else. It felt right to watch over Elena with just Matt and Meredith, the four friends who had gone through so much together, who had known one another longest of all.

  “I just don’t understand it,” Matt murmured, twisting his hands together miserably. “How did we not know Jack was a vampire? And why would he kill Stefan? They’d been working together. They were friends.”

  “He walked in the daylight, without a ring,” Meredith said dully. “He was obsessed with killing vampires. He was a hunter. But he was a vampire, too?”

  Matt cleared his throat. When they looked at him, he straightened his shoulders and said, with an obvious effort, “We should call Damon.”

  Meredith and Bonnie stared at each other in dismay. How could they have forgotten Damon? Despite all the years of conflict between the brothers, Bonnie was certain that Stefan’s death would tear Damon apart. And an angry, grieving Damon might do anything.

  She could see that Meredith was having the same thoughts.

  “Elena should tell him,” Meredith said.

  Matt frowned. “Elena’s got enough on her plate. We need to make things easier for her.”

  Bonnie shook her head decisively, her red curls flying around her. “Elena’s the only one who can keep Damon from totally losing it. And she’ll probably want to tell him. We should wait till morning anyway, and talk to her about it then.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Matt said. “I just—all I want to do is help her.”

  “We all do,” Bonnie said, taking Matt’s broad hand in her smaller one. “But I think the only thing we can do now is be here if she needs us.”

  Matt rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. “I still can’t believe it,” he said. “I can’t … I never thought I’d see Stefan fall like that. Any of us, I worried about, but I thought he’d go on forever.”

  Bonnie buried her face in Matt’s shoulder and, even though she’d promised herself she’d be strong, felt a few tears squeeze out of her eyes. “Let’s stay here tonight,” she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. “Elena shouldn’t be alone.”

  “The sofa folds out,” Meredith said, jumping up, glad of something practical to do. “And I think there’s an air mattress in the closet.”

  They got ready for bed quietly. Bonnie climbed into the sofa bed next to Meredith and turned out the light. Listening to Meredith’s breathing next to her and Matt’s from the floor by the bed, she knew that neither of them was going to fall asleep tonight either.

  They would lie here together, in the long dark hours before dawn, watching over Elena. It was the only thing they could do.

  In the pitch-blackness, Elena’s eyes flew open. She didn’t know how much time had passed since she drank Bonnie’s potion, but it had put her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  And now she was awake, and something was scratching at the window.

  She was just drawing breath to scream when she realized that of course she knew who it was. She could feel him. Slipping out of bed, Elena fumbled her way toward the window, banging her leg against her bureau in the dark.

  Damon was sitting on a tree branch outside, his inscrutable black eyes fixed on her. “Invite me in, princess,” he said.

  “Come in,” Elena said, and stumbled back from the window as Damon stepped inside, as graceful as ever. When he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she realized he was shaking.

  She didn’t need to tell him anything, she realized, somewhat gratefully. He already knew, must have known as soon as he’d felt her anguish. His heartache came steadily through the bond between them, mirroring hers
.

  “I need …” he said, his voice broken. “Can I hold you?” She nodded wordlessly.

  On top of the covers, he held her loosely, his arms strong and comforting. Elena rested her head against his chest and finally let go, knowing that the link between them made words unnecessary, his pain and her pain blending until it was all one shared emotion. Sobbing, she wiped a hand roughly under her nose. She was gross and covered with snot and tears and she didn’t care.

  “Stefan would have liked to have seen you again,” she told Damon in a thick, tear-choked voice. “He missed you while you were gone.”

  “I know. I missed him, too,” Damon said, and their bond throbbed with an extra ache: loneliness, and regret over time lost. He stroked her hair with a heavy, comforting hand.

  Elena pressed her face against his chest. Damon, she realized, was the only person in the world who understood exactly what she had lost. She held onto him fiercely as they grieved together, weeping for Stefan and for themselves.

  #TVD11DamonReturns

  The sun was so bright Matt had to shield his eyes as he came up to his apartment building. It had been a long, terrible night. Whenever he started to fall into sleep, he had remembered Stefan, a stave in his chest and a terrible emptiness in his eyes, falling like a broken doll. Remembered Elena’s screams. Stefan’s blood had dried on his sleeve.

  Stefan, his friend. Once his rival for Elena’s affection—although it had never been much of a contest—briefly his football teammate, his ally against the darkness. Gone. Matt should have sensed that something was wrong about Jack. He should have protected his friends.

  Jasmine was standing outside the front door of his building. Seeing her in the glaring sunshine gave Matt a weird sense of déjà vu, as if he had fallen through a wormhole and ended up back at that terrible morning when she had told him good-bye.