Damon and Levi had heard whispers of Samantha's last known whereabouts, and the rumors led them to a quaint antique shop owned by a woman named Denise. The shop, nestled in the heart of Staunton, was filled to the brim with dusty antiques and cobwebs. So much cobwebs. Damon wondered if anyone actually came into the shop.
As they stepped into the shop, a tinkling bell announced their arrival. The air was heavy with the scent of dust, dead leaves and old decaying antiques. Damon and Levi found Denise standing behind a polished mahogany counter, her eyes wide with trepidation at the unexpected visitors.
Damon, his piercing gaze fixed upon Denise, spoke in a low, commanding voice. "Are you Denise?"
She nodded her head slowly.
"Yes. Lord Damon."
She said as she bowed a bit. Damon studied her, his eyes observing her. She wasn't human, but she wasn't vampire either. What was she?
Levi approached her.
"Denise, we have reason to believe you hold valuable information regarding the disappearance of Samantha Dortmund. A witness said she was last seen entering your shop. Tell us what you know."
Denise attempted to compose herself, she straightened her dress and touched her hair slightly. "I assure you, I know nothing of this Samantha's disappearance," although she sounded relatively calm, Damon could detect an hint of fear in her voice. "I merely run an antique shop. Customers come and go, and I don't know what happens after that."
Levi, with his unwavering gaze, noticed the flicker of hesitation in Denise's eyes. "Someone saw Samantha entering your shop," he interjected firmly, his voice echoing with authority. "Lying to Lord Damon will have dire consequences."
"Well... I never said she wasn't here."
Denise said as she chuckled nervously, her resolve wavering. She took a deep breath and said, "Fine! Samantha did come to my shop, but she didn't stay long, only long enough to browse through a few items. I thought she might return, but she never did."
"She seemed distressed too, I don't know why but she didn't tell me anything. It was very strange how she just came in and left."
Damon's eyes gleamed with predatory intensity as he absorbed Denise's revelation. "Distressed, you say?" he questioned, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Did she mention anything, anything or anyone at all?"
Denise shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "No, my Lord. She didn't say a word. But the look in her eyes... it spoke volumes. I feared for her safety, but I could do nothing."
Damon regarded Denise for a moment, his mind processing the newfound information. What was she?! He could not tell. Although her eyes looked genuine, he was unsure about her words. But Denise had no reason to cause Samantha's disappearance, there was little to no connection between the two of them.
"Very well, Denise," Damon said.
"If you have any information that can help us, don't hesitate to contact us."
Denise nodded, relief flooding her expression. "I understand, Lord Damon. I will do my best to help in any way I can."
Damon nodded and then felt the need to add something else.
"And, if I found out that you lied to me, trust me, I will spare no expense in hunting you down and making you pay for lying to me."
Damon said and Denise nodded slowly, gulping hard.
With their business concluded, Damon and Levi departed from Denise's antique shop.
"Are you okay?"
Levi asked as he spotted Damon rubbing his temple.
"Just hungry."
Damon murmured and Levi sighed.
"There's a new batch of blood bags coming this evening."
"I know."
He murmured.
"Or do you need me to find something else for you..."
Damon knew what Levi was insinuating, so he quickly shut it down.
"I can wait."
................
Damon made his way back home, after another meeting with his cadre. He was still hungry and the fresh batch of blood bags had not arrived yet. He decided to lie down a bit, just to soothe the raging hunger in him.
As he stepped through the ornate front doors, a sense of calm washed over him, momentarily easing the eternal hunger that gnawed at his core.
But this night was different. The moment Damon entered, he was greeted by a familiar scent and an unusual scene. Rachel lay on the marble floor, her face twisted in pain. Her knee was scraped badly, blood pooling around the wound. The unexpected sight of crimson liquid stirred something primal within Damon, his vampiric instincts intensifying.
What was she doing here?!!!
He asked himself in annoyance as he found himself struggling to look away.
His eyes, usually a shade of electric blue, darkened to an intense obsidian as his fangs elongated involuntarily. A surge of hunger surged through his veins, threatening to overpower his control. For decades, Damon had fought against his dark nature, trying to maintain a semblance of control and humanity. But now, faced with the scent of fresh blood, he struggled to suppress his innate desires.
"I'm so sorry, I slipped."
Rachel murmured as she tried to stand up.
"I'll clean up the mess. I'm so sorry."
She murmured again, if only she knew that an apology was the very least of what Damon wanted. He didn't even care for it, or that she made a mess, he had other things to think of.
In that moment, Caelia, walked in on the scene, she paused. Her heart raced as she took in the scene, her gaze flickering between Damon and the injured Rachel on the floor. A mixture of fear and concern coursed through her, her own pulse quickening in response to the chaotic energy in the air. There Rachel was, bloodied, vulnerable, on the floor and alone in the large room and Damon was only a few paces from her, but she could see the look on his face, how he had slowly morphed into something that was not human. How he had changed into who he truly was.
His eyes dark, the warm mesmerizing blue eyes she knew was gone, now replaced with nothing but shadowy pits of darkness and unnatural veins surrounding them, his face as pale as death, the air around him seemed to be thick with shadows and tension and his mouth, although slightly open, she could see the fangs peeking out from them.
Damon was a vampire, Rachel was hurt and there was blood, there was only one way things like this tended to end. And it didn't normally end good.
She thought as she rubbed her hands wearily.
Caelia's eyes widened as she watched Damon visibly struggle with his instincts. He looked different, he looked emotionless and he was staring at Rachel as if she was a piece of meat. Rachel didn't even notice, she was too busy trying to clean up the blood to notice the ruckus that her blood had caused, Caelia didn't know if she could take it, if she could stand watching him any longer, he didn't look himself. He didn't look like the Damon she knew.
This Damon, this was the Damon that Greta had referred to as a beast and she was not quite ready to confront that truth yet. With great effort, she turned around and slowly left, as quietly as she had come into the room. Whatever was to come, she couldn't bring herself to face it, she'd try to find someone else to help Rachel.
Damon closed his eyes, willing himself into normalcy, although he was hungry, if he went back to feeling on human vein ever again it would destroy all the years of hard work and self control. He couldn't let that happen. And what if? What if someone saw him like this? What if Caelia saw him like this?
How mortified she would be. With great effort, Damon's fangs retracted, and his eyes returned to their usual blue. He slowly moved towards Rachel and knelt beside her, his hands trembling slightly as he pressed a handkerchief to her wounded knee, applying gentle pressure to stem the flow of blood.
"Are you okay?," he asked and Rachel looked up in shock.
"Yes. Yes I am."
Rachel, her pain momentarily forgotten, looked up at Damon with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "Thank you, so much ," she murmured, her voice filled with sincerity. She took the handkerchief from him.
"I'll do it. I'm so sorry to have been a bother."
Damon nodded.
"It's fine."
He said with a forced smile.
"I'll make sure to send someone to help you with this mess. I have to go upstairs now, I'm a bit tired."
He said as he walked past her, leaving her alone in the room.
..................
In the confines of her room, Caelia brought out the ring. Her 'wedding ring' the one Damon gave her at the ball. The unmistakable sign that she might have been bonded to him in marriage, something that was far past even her own understanding. As far as Caelia was concerned, the ring was a sign of acceptance, but now, she had changed her mind, she wanted to return it.
Even after having experienced a vampire in real life, she was still left in shock for seeing Damon as he truly was. Greta had told her, Greta had warned her and now she could see a glimpse of him.
She looked at the ring again, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Maybe returning it would make a difference. Returning it would be her sign of rejection. She didn't want to be his bride anymore.
She didn't want to be Cinderella. He was not Prince Charming, he never was, that was the fairytale she had sold herself and now, she couldn't even bring herself to pretend anymore that a love between a vampire and human would ever exist.
She wouldn't even stay around long enough to find out.
Caelia nodded her head, making her decision. She was going to return the ring, maybe this would also give Damon a chance to move on.
Find another bride.