1942
New Orleans
New Orleans is offbeat, unusual, and loud. I thought London was the busiest city but here the vibe was entirely strange. Everything here seemed to be alive. No one seemed to be slaving away just to make a living. This city is a class of its own. I glanced around taking in the scene. People partying in broad daylight, laughing, drinking, some even brawling. The colours were too intense and bright for my liking. The incessant sounds of jazz floated through the air. I never was a fan of jazz. I despised it. All I wanted to do was enjoy my hot chocolate in peace and not be surrounded by a cacophony of sounds. Perhaps if I was in a pleasant mood, I may have found all this culture and its vibes amusing and may have even partook in a little singing and sightseeing but I wasn't here for a holiday. I had business to attend. I heard New Orleans was a place of secrecy and the supernatural. If you were seeking answers, it is the place to be.
Lost in thought, I stroked the tiny crest around my neck. Though I had no idea what the S stood for I was certain it was a link to my past. My mother had gifted It to me for my 16th birthday, telling me it belonged to my birth family, and I have kept it on me since then, never taking it off. It was a part of me and somehow, I always felt safe with it on. whenever I felt conflicted, overwhelmed with emotion I would hold it between my thumb and index finger, gently clinging onto it. I let out a sigh and looked back down at my now cold mug of hot chocolate. "Great." I muttered, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
"What's great?"
I jolted in my seat, startled by the deep low voice. Across me sat a man dressed in black. The man had a great sense of fashion. He flashed me a smile, exposing his white pearls.
"Excuse me, who are you?"
"Damon."
"Damon, leave me alone."
His smirk caused my blood to boil. The anger bubbling up inside just ready to pop like a kettle. Who was this man? why was he speaking to me? Were the residents of New Orleans so galling? Where was the concept of personal space that one was rightly equitable to?
"Why?"
This man had not the slightest idea of who I was and what I was capable of. I could snap his neck without blinking, dispose of his body in a matter of seconds, leaving no trace behind. I clutched my necklace and instantaneously felt calm, my breathing under control. "Forgive me, we simply do not know one another, and I do not speak to strangers specially in an unknown city, one like New Orleans."
"What's wrong with here?" He placed his hand under his chin and pouted as if he were concentrating on my words and eager to listen.
"Under this mask of colour, music, there lies a dark secret don't you think, Damon?" My lips twitched, forming a sardonic smile. Immediately he shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable. A few seconds passed and he composed himself, returning to his conceited self.
He gave a fixed smile. "What dark secrets?"
"Never mind that, what brings you to me?"
He chuckled. "You don't waste time do you." It wasn't a question more of a statement. His chuckle was light and laced with a hum of amusement at the matter.
I sneered. "Let's skip the niceties shall we. What do you want?"
"Very well then. I couldn't help but notice you playing with that necklace there...." He began to trail off, but his blue piercing eyes still fixed on my locket. They were so identical to mine. There was a strange familiarity in his eyes. That's when I noticed his hair. Short and well-groomed and dark brown, a shade lighter than my own. He cleared his throat and continued. "That's a very intriguing engraving. What is it?"
I glanced down at my locket. "It's an S. I cannot say for sure what it symbolises but it's a connection to my past."
I looked deeper into his eyes, searching for answers. He was unsettled. How odd it was that a stranger seemed so deeply affected by my presence.
"Unique." Something about his expressions were wistful. Emotions were evident, I just couldn't quite point it out. "From your accent I gather you're not from here?" He implored, relaxing his body, seeming far less tensed, eyes still locked on mine.
"I'm from England. Here for a holiday. Passing time." I responded with a failure attempt at sounding enthusiastic." He nodded and took that as his cue to leave me be. He got up from his seat, tucked it in and turned his back to me. He was prowling, searching for something or someone. Not my concern so I didn't give him any further attention, that is until he retroverted back to me. "That seems like a priceless family heirloom, better keep it safe." It struck me as odd. What a peculiar man I thought to myself.
"Damon...why were you so interested in my necklace?"
"Oh..." A brief silence fell between us. He was searching for an answer. All that could be heard was the bustling sounds of the city. "I wanted to get something similar for my little sister, but I guess I can't, as this doesn't look like a very common piece you'd find anywhere." And from that I watched him leave, vanishing out of sight. I pondered over what my next move would be and where I would begin.
Damon
Just by seeing that crest I knew everything I needed to know. All that was left was to piece it together. Nothing made sense. Had my parents left a huge part of our lives out? Stefan. I needed to go back to Stefan. But I couldn't after what happened between us the last time. Seeing her changed it all. For now, I needed to observe her, follow her before I took any further action. Her eyes were exactly like mine. It was as if I was staring into a mirror. Her hair was dark, long, and curly. She bore no resemblance to mother but perhaps our father. Her skin was far tanned than mine and it struck me as odd.
I watched her from the distance, she was leaving the little cafe, scanning the area. She was suspicious of her surroundings and rightly so. She paid her fees and left. I made sure to keep my distance to avoid any suspicions and if she was anything like me, she would sense me from a mile away.
"Where are you going?" I muttered to myself. The unknown woman took several turns. I zoned in on my hearing senses, drowning the excess hubbub of the wild city. I could hear it clear as day. A man running, whimpering, and pleading for his life.
"Please...please. please don't-don't..." Fear laced in every utterance.
"Ooh is poor little Samuel afraid for his life. How tragic." She mocked. "But I'm so hungry you see. I must feed, Sammy you have to understand it is the only way it makes me strong." Her voice softened as she lulled him. "Do not be afraid dearest, just a sip. I won't hurt you I promise. You should be grateful that I won't tear you to shreds for what you tried to do to me remember?"
"I-i- I am- am grateful."
"Now, that's more like it Sammy."
The sound of teeth sinking into flesh and crunching followed. She was good, she was neat. She had tactic and most of all control or so I thought. As I edged closer, looking down I witnessed her tearing into him viciously, growling. This wasn't to satisfy her hunger this was far more. She either was reckless and this was her way of having fun or this was how she punished those that wronged her. She was getting out of hand. Without thinking I stepped in, before she made a mess, attracting unnecessary attention. No need for the witches to come hunt either of us down. Using my speed, I swept in and pried the guy off of her, knocking her back.
She growled inhumanely, exposing her bloody fangs.
"Easy there, Tigress" I raised my hands up backing away. The guy fell limp on the floor. He was already gone. No saving him. Looking down at him, I shrugged. "Well then..." I brought my attention back to her. "We don't want to create a scene here now do we. With angry witches lurking in the French Quarter-"
"What did you say?"
"Nothing, let's just get out of here now!!" I commanded.
"You're like me, aren't you? A vampire. You said witches...."
"Look, I will explain later..." I pressed on for her to reveal her identity.
"Sophia Harrington."
Harrington. Why is that so familiar?
"Let's get out of here." I took her hand and we left, forgetting about the carcass that was the once living, breathing man.
Sophia
I paced up and down in a strange dimly lit room. Damon's temporary residence of living.
"Sophia, you need to calm down and then we can talk. I think there are some things you need to know."
Damon appeared distressed. His cool persona dissipated, and he no longer was who I presumed he was on our first encounter. I seated myself down and clutched my necklace, steadying my emotions. Damon now began to pace around the room, in thought. He ignored me for some time. I studied his face. Anger flashed in his eyes, then confusion, then fear, back to anger and then finally it rested on earnestness. I observed him closely. Something about him resonated with me. The familiarity was unsettling.
"Damon, how are you and I connected? Where can I find the witches?" I queried. If this stranger could help me with my mission, then I would be elated.
"I think we're siblings or related in some way-"
I interrupted before he got the chance to explain. "How?!! That is impossible! I don't have anyone else."
"Your necklace that you wear around your neck is the Salvatore emblem. My-our family. Where did you get it?"
"My adoptive mother gave it to me, said it was in the basket with me when my birth mother gave me away."
He stretched out his hand for the necklace. Hesitant at first, I handed it over. He took a closer look, spectating. "Oh, that is my family crest...how is it possible? We are siblings."
"What do you mean, we?"
"Stefan. My brother."
"Is he alive?"
"Yes, he is and he's off fighting the war but we're not exactly on speaking terms. He does not agree with my lifestyle, so we decided to part ways..."
"This is all too much to take in. It does not make sense. How?"
"Well, my bastard father must have had an affair because you do not take after my mother. As you can see by our skin differences...When were you turned Sophia?"
"...1922 right after my parents were brutally killed in front of me and I couldn't do anything to save them.... Damon I was helpless..." Tears rolled down my face, my throat felt as if it was being clawed at from the inside. "Then some strange mysterious man...he fed me his blood. He must have killed me and the next few days I found myself alone...You must have heard of Jameela Everleigh? They mentioned something about New Orleans, so I came here for answers."
"Everleigh..." He muttered under his breath barely audible. "No, not that I know of but maybe we can find someone who has some sort of information?" It was more of a statement than a suggestion.
"Yeah, I'm sure you're right. Better than nothing."
Just then the door flung open. A young brown-haired woman stood tall before us. "Damon!" She exclaimed. She scrunched her face, sizing me up and down. "Who is she?" How condescending of her but I overlooked it.
Damon sighed, shaking his head. "Charlotte. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you." She batted her eyelids. I rolled my eyes at how pathetic she presented herself as. I expected my brother to have better standards. Brother....
Damon edged closer towards her, took her hand in his, enveloping them. "Charlotte." He articulated clear and stern, yet gentle. "I want you to go out for a walk. Don't wait for me."
She obliged. I raised my brows at Damon. "What was that?" I mouthed.
Charlotte obeyed and left without questioning or retorting.
"Sire bond." He stated brooding.
"What is the sire bond? I've heard of it before. The man who turned me referred to himself as my sire."
"A link with a vampire who turned another, stronger if there are feelings involved. I turned Charlotte and somehow, she became sired to me and does everything I command her to. The sired are faultlessly loyal."
He saw my perplexed expression and added, "Don't fret it's not important. A topic of discussion for a later date."
I nodded trying to piece everything together and how it connected with my past.
Damon
Present day
I have lied countless of times in my life but there was not one instance where I felt guilty like I did today. I've lied to my sister, and it felt as if I was carrying the weight of the universe on my shoulders. Allowing her and Stefan to meet is a recipe for disaster, even more so after knowing the thirst she has for vengeance. What would she do when the truth is exposed? There was a lot that needed to be done to keep them both safe. Bonnie wrapped her arms around me, giving me comfort. "It's okay Damon, we'll make it work. We will find a way."
I stared across the room, chewing my bottom lip. "How does one go about telling such a truth?" I swivelled around to face the gorgeous woman, who looked at me reassuringly. "How do I even tell her this? Bonbon, I'm afraid." I gazed into her eyes searching for an answer. She possessed all the answers. The woman I loved, the only woman to bring back the humanity within me, the only woman who made me feel alive and was worth changing for.
"We just don't tell her." She caressed my face, her touch gentle and delicate. "Maybe we can get...Klaus to-"
"No!" I snapped, fuming. "We will not let Klaus anywhere near her. I have a sneaky suspicion that he also was involved and on top of that if he finds out she is the same witch who is destined to destroy him, he won't stop at anything to have her killed. We can't risk it."
She let out a soft sigh. "Do you think she will recognise them?"
I gave it a thought. "Yes. She said their faces were etched in her mind and that she will never forget their faces even if she wanted to. Assuming Klaus is the one that turned her. We can't be for sure. Worst of all, she could be sired to him...with her being the last living heretic won't end well."
I pulled her into an embrace, nuzzling my nose into her hair. "I love you, Bonnie Salvatore. To think I started off disliking you-"
"Correction, I hated you but then I grew to love you." She pulled away, still holding onto me, running her fingers through my hair. "I will stand by you no matter what. But we need to find a solution for this. Sophia isn't going to give up. She's going to push and push and eventually, you'll have to tell her. What will you do when she finds out? She'll hate you; she'll hate me and there's no telling how she'll react. We can't forget her abilities. She has no knowledge of her own strength. Enzo's no longer around to hold her back."
She made a point, and she was right. "Yes, I know! I am aware of that. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there." My heart sunk at the mention of Enzo. He was gone. He was the one person who was able to help Sophia fight through her rage and keep it in check. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't succeed. Not in the way Enzo had.
"Don't get mad Damon but..." she hesitated.
"Go on, spit it out."
"We have to tell her, the sooner the better. Where is she now?"
I huffed, brows knitting together. "I left her back at her house unless she followed me out. I will deal with it!"
"Fine!" She snapped. She didn't want to argue over what the right thing to do was. I never did the right thing, and she knew that. Yet, she still stood by me despite how corrupt I was. Forgetting all my reckless outburst, the monstrous things I have done, she stood by me. She stormed out the room muttering under her breath.
As I refilled my glass with more bourbon, I pondered over what I was going to do once I got back to Mystic Falls. Stefan had left several missed calls. No doubt about it, he had rung Bonnie too. Would I be able to introduce Sophia and Stefan without her realising who he was? Will she have the capability of forgiving him if the truth were revealed? Was asking Klaus to compel her a good idea? So many questions yet not a single answer in sight. Either way I had to face the music.
We were both packed and ready for Mystic Falls. There was still no sign of Sophia. She left and had not returned. I had concluded that I would not take her with us, not until I spoke to Stefan. She left in a fit of rage, flinging objects around, smashing them. All that witchy woo. Bonnie wasn't too happy, but she agreed for now, it was the best thing for everyone. The safest thing. I watched my sister struggle for years with the death of her family, crave vengeance. The anger eating away at her. I knew it all too well, I spent hundred years of my existence loathing Stefan, loathing life. It was pain and misery. I gave her another call; it went straight to voicemail again. I clenched my jaws and slammed the phone back down.
Bonnie's face sunk. "She's not coming back Damon."
I didn't want to accept it, but I knew we had to leave. I knew Sophia better than anyone. She was stubborn, far stubborn than me. Once her mind was made up, she won't budge. There was no coaxing her. She could be ruthless when and if she wanted. She wasn't going to come to say goodbye. She always hated it. I hated leaving her. But I told myself I would fix it. I will reunite Stefan and her. The phone pinged. It was a text message from her, her own way of seeing us off.
I'm sorry big brother, I can't do with this goodbye. I know I'll see you soon, but I won't face you and bid you adieu. I love you x
1977
New York
I sat at the bar drinking and feeding off people with not a care in the world. It was freeing, turning off the humanity switch. No feelings. Nothing. Just doing as I pleased and to hell with anyone who tried to tamper with it. I dealt with that annoying Lexi. By tomorrow sun rise she would burn to a crisp. Poof. I smiled smugly to myself, then ashes to ashes. A woman caught my eye. She had been flirting endlessly with me and with time on my hands, I entertained it. I slid my glass of bourbon to where she sat. Salaciously, she pressed her lips to it before taking a sip then slid it back to me. Smirking, I took the glass in my hand and inhaled in her scent that lingered on the brim of the glass. With the click clack of her heels she strutted to me, slipping into the bar stool next to me. Her dress had a split down the side that exposed her thighs. Bold of her to assume I wanted her for that reason. It was a game and I enjoyed it.
Placing a hand on her warm throbbing thigh, I traced my finger up and down the exposed surface. Her back arched, biting down on her lower lip. She shifted in her seat, turning her body to face mine. She leaned in closer, her lips an inch away. Her perfume entered my system as I inhaled her in. The vein on her neck bulged, just waiting to be torn open. One more second. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pushing her chest on me. The fangs slipped out my gums. Grabbing her tight, I sunk them in her and ravished away.
A sudden force slammed me against the wall. Groaning I looked up, rubbing my jaw. I scowled. "If it isn't the baby sister."
"What is wrong with you! You really are a pillock!"
Jumping to my feet I charged at her, grabbing her by the throat, slamming her against the wall and squeezing hard. "Go on, kill me, Damon. The only family you have left that was on speaking terms with you."
Something in me flickered. As I looked at her, into her eyes I couldn't move. My grip on her loosened and a growl escaped me. "Leave! Why are you here?!"
"Turn it on Damon!"
"So, you came all this way to fix me?" I scoffed. "Hate to break it to you, I don't care, and it was a waste of your time."
She walked around the bar, inspecting the bloody mess. "Hmmm...I certainly can see that." She dragged the bodies behind the bar, piling them on top of one another, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "What a mess Damon." My shoulders shrugged, disinterested.
I lunged at her again, this time pinning her down on the floor, my knee pressing into her throat while I punched my fist into her chest. She groaned and writhed around. Eyes growing large and bulging. I could taste her fear. Intense and raw. "Come on, Damon!" I muttered to myself. Her heart floundered violently in my clutch.
Tears rolled down as she closed her eyes, waiting for the impending death. "I love you, big brother, no matter what." Like a thousand bullets it hit me all at once. I tore myself off her, shaking my head. The wall I built shattered down. The flickering switch flipped, and the emotions came flooding back in. I looked back at her, trembling and my eyes flooding with tears. She lay still on the floor, gathering her strength and steadying her breathing. I rushed over, picking her up and pulling her close to my chest.
"I'm so sorry." I sobbed for the first time in years. I sobbed into her hair. She spluttered out painful, broken coughs, clutching at her chest. I almost killed my sister.
"I'm okay." She coughed again. "I knew you wouldn't do it-"
"What if I had!" I snapped, shaking her. "What if I killed you!"
She laughed weakly. "Brother, you love me more than anything else, more than that Katherine bitch you keep moping over. I knew you wouldn't go through with it, and I was willing to risk my life."
I shook her again before pulling her close once more. "Don't you dare do that again!" My brows furrowed at the sound of her soft laughter. Laughter that turned into cries.
"Don't turn it off again!" She mumbled, patting my back.
"Bitsy, i am so sorry, I had no choice. I couldn't live with the guilt of Enzo. He was my friend. He was the only other soul that I had with me! He gave me hope and made me realise that I loved Stefan no matter what. And I let him die!" I spat out full of bitterness directed at myself. "Enzo's friendship kept me alive, he gave me a reason to hang onto my humanity. I lost all hope of you or Stefan coming to save me, but he didn't! Now he's dead. I let my friend die!"
She pulled away, rubbing her chest. "He's not dead you fucking idiot! Had you listened to me before you ran off you would have heard me running back in to save your friend. Enzo is not dead! He's alive brother!"
"What?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
"I saved him you moron! Enzo is alive. In fact, it was him who helped me track you down. He's angry you didn't try harder but nonetheless, he's alive and any minute now he will walk through that door and greet you..." She counted for three seconds and on the fourth second the bar door swung open and in stepped a grinning Enzo.
"Enzo?" I half yelled half whispered.
"Hello, friend." He lumbered over and pulled me into an embrace. I was at a loss for words. He wasn't dead. He was alive. It was as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on me. That was the relief. Shocking, alarming but yet at the end calming. He pulled away for a moment. I exhaled, then smiled. Smiling, he threw a right hook.
I glared at him. "What the hell was that for?"
He chuckled. "That was for not trying harder to save me but since your sister saved me and explained what you did, I put the puzzle together."
"I'm sorry and I'm glad you're alive." I rubbed my jaw. 'So, you met my sister?"
He grinned. "I told you if Stefan didn't come then she surely will. She beat me and threatened me into helping her." He glanced over my shoulder and gave her a nod.
She snickered from behind. "I did no such thing but regardless, brothers...I have business to attend so I better run. You boys behave." Before I could stop her and get a word out, she left. Gone with the wind. My head snapped to the sound of rustling. A thin piece of paper was left on the table. Enzo snatched it up. "Looks like it's just the two of us." I snatched the paper from his hand and read it.
Sorry, you know I hate the goodbyes. I have to go and finish something off. Behave. Take care of Enzo. When you were gone, he was like a brother and looked out for me.
Love,
Bitsy.
I folded up the letter in silence and tucked it in my back pocket. She was off again and there was nothing I could do about it. I remembered Stefan. I had to hide him away from her. Keep them apart for as long as possible until I found a solution. I turned my focus back to Enzo. "We've got a witch to hunt. Let's go."