Damon Salvatore was leaning against my truck when I pulled into the driveway.
The headlights caught him perfectly—leather jacket, casual posture, smile that promised nothing good. He didn't move as I parked, didn't flinch when I cut the engine and sat in the darkness, calculating options.
He's waiting. He wants me to come to him.
I'd spent the past two days at Caroline's house, letting her mother feed me and pretending everything was normal. But I couldn't stay hidden forever. Eventually, I had to come home.
Damon had been counting on that.
I climbed out of the truck slowly, keeping my hands visible, feeling the stake hidden inside my jacket pressing against my ribs. The blood bag strapped to my other side was nearly full—enough for maybe thirty seconds of sustained combat.
"Evening, Mattie." Damon's voice was silk over broken glass. "Miss me?"
"About as much as a tooth infection."
He laughed—actually laughed, the sound bright and wrong in the quiet darkness of my street. "There it is. The wit. The backbone. All that delicious defiance that makes you so interesting."
I stopped ten feet from the trailer's front door. Close enough to reach safety. Far enough that Damon couldn't grab me before I moved.
"What do you want?"
"Want?" He pushed off from my truck, circling slowly, forcing me to turn to keep him in sight. "I want a lot of things, blood boy. I want Katherine out of that tomb. I want Stefan to stop being such a buzzkill. I want the vervain burns on my face to stop itching." His expression hardened. "I want to know why you, of all people, decided to interfere with my plans."
"You killed my sister."
The words came out flat, factual. I'd said them in my head a thousand times, but speaking them aloud to Vicki's murderer felt different. Heavier.
Damon's smile didn't waver. "Technically, Stefan killed your sister. I just... created the conditions."
"You turned her. You compelled her. You broke her mind and set her loose to die."
"Details." He waved a dismissive hand. "The point is, you've been a thorn in my side since September. The vervain network. Caroline's bracelet. And now Lexi—my beautiful, theatrical execution of Lexi, ruined because some busboy decided to play hero."
"She didn't deserve to die for your convenience."
"Deserve has nothing to do with it." Damon stopped circling, facing me directly. The playfulness drained from his expression, leaving something ancient and cold. "I've killed thousands of people who didn't deserve it. One more wouldn't have mattered. But you made it matter. You made it personal."
I held his gaze, refusing to flinch. "Good."
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The street was quiet—no cars, no neighbors, no witnesses to whatever was about to happen.
Then Damon blurred forward.
I threw myself toward the trailer door, hand finding the knob, twisting, shoulder hitting wood as I crashed through the entrance and stumbled into my own living room.
The threshold stopped him.
Damon stood in the doorway, invisible barrier preventing him from crossing. His expression shifted from predatory to amused.
"Clever boy. You know about invitation rules."
"I know a lot of things."
"But not enough to stay out of my way." He leaned against the doorframe, perfectly at ease despite his inability to enter. "Here's how this is going to work, Mattie. You can't stay inside forever. Eventually, you'll go to school. To work. To your little girlfriend's house. And when you do, I'll be waiting."
"So will I."
"With what? Your blood tricks?" He laughed again. "They're impressive for a human, I'll give you that. But you're still human. Fragile. Slow. You might slow me down, but you can't stop me. No one can."
Headlights swept across the windows. A car pulling into my driveway.
Caroline's car.
Damon's smile widened. "Ah. The cavalry arrives. Or is it the leverage?"
"Leave her alone."
"I already tried, remember? Your little bracelet burned me." He stepped back from the doorway, melting into the shadows at the edge of the porch light. "But there are other ways to hurt people, blood boy. So many other ways."
Then he was gone—vanished with vampire speed, leaving nothing but the echo of his threat.
Caroline knocked on the door a moment later, completely oblivious. "Matt? Your truck's here but the lights are off. Is everything okay?"
I opened the door and pulled her into a hug so tight she gasped.
"Matt? What's wrong?"
Everything. Nothing. I can't tell you.
"Long day," I managed. "I'm just glad you're here."
She didn't push for more explanation. That was one of the things I loved about her—she understood that some feelings couldn't be put into words. She just held me back, her warmth a counterpoint to the cold dread coiling in my chest.
"Come inside," I said eventually. "I'll make dinner."
We spent the evening on the couch, watching bad television and eating pasta I'd overcooked because my hands wouldn't stop shaking. Caroline fell asleep against my shoulder around midnight, her breathing soft and peaceful.
I watched her until dawn, unable to close my eyes.
Damon was out there. Waiting. Planning.
I needed allies. I needed to get stronger. I needed to find a way to end this before he found a way to end me.
Tomorrow. Planning starts tomorrow.
But tonight, I just held the girl I loved and tried to pretend the monster wasn't watching.
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