Home > Origins (The Vampire Diaries: Stefan's Diaries #1)(42)

Origins (The Vampire Diaries: Stefan's Diaries #1)(42)
Author: L.J. Smith

"Damon, no. No. No." I kept repeating the word as my mind whirled. Had Katherine loved me? I remembered the moments she'd stare at me, her hands on my shoulders. You must love me, Stefan. Tell me we'll be together forever. You have my heart. I'd always felt the same woozy, heady sensation running through my limbs and up to my brain, wanting to do anything for her. But now, when I thought of her true nature, all I could do was shudder. "She didn't love me," I said finally. She'd compelled me, and she made me hurt everyone I loved. I felt hatred rise up from the depth of my soul, and I wanted to lead the charge against Katherine.

Until I looked at my brother.

Damon rested his head in his hands, staring at the ground. It was then that I realized: Damon loved Katherine. He loved her despite, or maybe because of, her dark side. When I'd seen Katherine lying bound on the floor, foaming at the mouth, I'd felt a stomach-turning revulsion. But Damon's love for Katherine transcended her current state. Damon loved Katherine so much that he'd accept the vampire side of her, instead of pretending it didn't exist. And in order to be truly happy, Damon needed to be with her. Now I understood. I needed to save Katherine to save Damon.

In the distance, wails and cries filled the gunpowder-scented air. "Damon. Damon." I repeated his name, each time with an increasing urgency. He looked up, and I saw tears in his eyes, threatening to spill out. Not since Mother died had I seen Damon cry.

"I'll help you save her. I know you love her. I will help." I kept repeating the word help, as if it were some sort of charm. Please, I pleaded in my mind as I looked at Damon's eyes. There was a moment of silence. Finally, Damon offered an almost imperceptible nod.

"Okay," he said in a ragged voice, clasping my wrist and dragging me to the edge of the forest.

Chapter 28

"We need to act now," Damon said when we reached the line of trees next to the field. The forest floor was slick with leaves, and there was no sound, not even of animals.

I'd spent the last minutes desperately racking my brain, trying to think of some way to save Katherine. But I couldn't. Our only hope was to enter the fray, say a prayer for Pearl and Anna, then focus on freeing Katherine. It would be incredibly dangerous. But there was no other way.

"Y es," I replied with an authority I did not feel. "Are you ready?" Without waiting for an answer, I deftly moved toward the forest border, guided by the faint sound of angry shouting. I could see the outline of the estate. Damon crept by my side. Suddenly I saw a large burst of flames erupt from the carriage house. I gasped, but Damon simply glared at me.

Just then, I heard the strident voice of Jonathan Gilbert. "Found another one!"

I crept closer to the edge of the forest, until I had a full view of Jonathan slamming Henry from the tavern against the back of the police wagon. Noah held one of his arms, while another guard I didn't recognize held the other one. Jonathan held out his compass, frowning.

"Stake him!" he said. The guard drew his bayonet back and thrust it into the center of Henry's chest. Blood spurted as Henry shrieked into the night air. Henry slumped to his knees, his eyes wide and staring down at the bayonet lodged in his body. I turned toward Damon, both of us realizing that we didn't have any time to waste. Damon bit his lip, and I knew we were in this together. Even though we often acted differently, when it counted we thought the same way. Maybe that--the shorthand communication we had as brothers--would be what would save us, and would save Katherine.

"Vampires!" I yelled from the depths of the forest.

"We found one! Help!" Damon called.

Instantly, Noah and the other guard released their grip on Henry and ran toward us, their bayonets raised.

"Over there!" Damon panted, pointing deep into the forest as the two guards stepped closer. "There was a man. We only saw a dark shadow, but he tried to attack my brother." As if to illustrate his point, Damon traced the sticky path of blood that had pooled onto my collarbone from my neck. I reached my own hand to that spot in surprise. I'd forgotten that Katherine had bitten me. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

The two guards looked at each other and nodded tersely. "Y boys shouldn't be out here

ou without weapons. We've got some in the wagon," without weapons. We've got some in the wagon," Noah called, before charging into the forest.

"Good," Damon said, almost under his breath. "Let's go. And if you let me down, I'll kill you," he said, breaking away toward the wagon. I followed him, moving wholly by adrenaline.

We reached the unguarded wagon. Low moans came from the inside. Damon kicked the back of the wagon open and leapt up to the platform. I followed, gagging when I entered. The scent of the wagon was acrid, a combination of blood and vervain and smoke. Bodies writhed in corners, but the wagon was pitch-black, making it impossible to tell whether the figures were vampires or humans or a combination of the two.

"Katherine!" Damon hissed, leaning down and roughly touching each of the bodies in his search for her.

"Stefan?" a weak voice called from the corner, and I forced myself to not lash out, to not spit in the direction of the voice, to not stare into those villainous eyes and tell her I hoped she got exactly what she deserved. "Damon?" the voice broke.

"Katherine. I'm here," Damon whispered, making his way toward the far end of the wagon. I continued to stand, as if glued to the spot. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I began seeing things that were more terrible than anything I'd ever seen in my worst dreams. On the floor of the wagon were almost a dozen bodies, some of people who I recognized from around town. Henry, a few regulars from the saloon, and even Dr. Janes. Some of the bodies had stakes in them, others had muzzles over their mouths, their hands and feet bound and their mouths seemingly frozen in wide O's of horror; some were simply curled up as if they were already dead.

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