Unseen (The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation #1) 3

The white lights were blinding. Meredith squinted against them and tried to struggle, but she couldn't move.

Just the dream, she told herself. Just the same dream. Things felt even more real this time: the lights brighter, the room less blurry around her. Her mouth was parched and sore. There was a sharp antiseptic smell in the air. She felt dizzy and nauseous.

It's only a dream, she reassured herself. I can get through this, and then I'll wake up safe in my own bed.

The shadowy figure moved at the edge of her vision, coming closer, and this time Meredith could see it more clearly than she ever had before. Gloved hands moving over her abdomen. A doctor in scrubs, looking down at her, face mask concealing his identity. She couldn't feel the hands moving, but she could see them. She was so numb, as if under a local anesthetic.

Carefully, the figure drew a vial of fluid into a needle, his surgical-gloved hands moving with calm precision. Meredith couldn't feel it as the needle slid into her arm, couldn't move away as the doctor pressed the plunger and the fluid slid into her veins. She arched her neck, shoving her head back against the table, flinching away as far as she could.

Although she couldn't feel the needle, the injection spread like fire across her body, her veins burning. A small, hurt gasp burst from her lips, and she tried again to get away. But she was trapped in place.

Wake up, wake up, she thought frantically.

The figure slid his mask away from his face-and beneath was Jack, his mouth quirking into a smile. Meredith whimpered, trying to push back into the table below her.

"Meredith," he said, running his hand across his face. "I thought that we should talk."

"This is a dream," Meredith said defiantly, but her voice sounded small and scared.

Jack gave a short huff of laughter. "It isn't a dream." He reached, affectionately, to brush a loose hair away from her face. "When you told me you drank vervain tea every night, I knew how to get to you. I substituted a combination of the medications I've developed and a strong sedative for your tea. It made it easy to take you for treatments. I brought you here, and then I knocked you out again to take you home."

"What?" Meredith asked. She was having trouble drawing breath; she was panting with fear. "What treatments? Why?"

"I'm making you like me. You're perfect," Jack told her, and Meredith shuddered, sickened. "Hunters are the best recruits, and you're one hell of a hunter, Meredith. Smart and quick. Strong-willed, not like Trinity, who was so easy for that Old One to compel. You'll make an amazing vampire. When I found out your brother had been a vampire, heard rumors about you almost being changed, well." He shrugged and smiled at her, that lovely warm smile. "It seemed like it was meant to be. Together, we'll be unstoppable."

"No," Meredith said, blinking back hot tears. "I'm not like you. I don't want to be a vampire."

Jack chuckled affectionately, his hand heavy on the crown of her head. "It's not really your decision," he said. "The transformation is almost complete."

#TVD11RealityBites

"Do you think he's really gone?" Elena asked, not looking at Damon. "I mean, I came back, and so did you."

"I don't know, Elena." Damon sighed. "You came back because you weren't supposed to die, because your time hadn't passed yet. And I never should have come back. I just got lucky."

They were together on the apartment's balcony, where Stefan had liked to go to think and keep watch. The late summer smell of roses was too heavy, sickly sweet and oppressive. Elena's eyes were sore, and she rubbed at them. She was so tired of crying.

Damon lounged against the rail beside her, seeming perfectly relaxed. He had the gift of being completely still when he wanted to, without twitching and shuffling his feet like most people seemed to. It was restful to be around him, she thought. He was watching her closely, his black eyes hooded, and Elena couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"When Stefan and I were children, a long time ago," Damon said suddenly, "he was so serious. Unlike me, he tried to do the right thing. He was my father's good boy, and I hated him for it. He'd cover for me, though, try to protect me from my father and the punishments I always deserved." He grimaced, a small twitch of his lips. "Stefan would get a beating for lying to protect me. I never even thanked him."

"You were children," she said gently.

"Protecting me always got Stefan hurt," Damon went on, as if he hadn't heard her. "We fought and we were apart for centuries. Without him, I lost myself."

Elena took his hand. He felt so cold, and she rubbed her hands against his to warm it. "I was lost, too," she said. "After my parents died, I didn't really care about anything. I wanted to be the queen of the school, but it was just pride keeping me going. Stefan ... Stefan was the first person to really see me, to find who I was under what I wanted everyone to see." She felt herself tearing up again, and she pressed her face against her and Damon's clasped hands, so that he wouldn't see her cry. "I'm worried I'm going to get lost again."

"I'm not going to leave you this time," Damon told her. "If nothing else, I can look after you for Stefan." His lips twisted in a wry little grin. "Not that you really need looking after."

"We can look after each other," Elena said. She was glad he was staying; there was a comfort in Damon's presence, although it didn't fill up the void that seemed to be growing inside her. Without Stefan, she felt so alone, one floating speck in a dark and empty universe. But Damon was alone, too, and right now they needed each other.

"And there's another reason I need to stay," Damon said, a new sharpness in his tone. Elena looked up at him, her attention caught. "Vengeance." He gripped her hand tighter, and she squeezed back in response. "Jack? The vampires he's created? We have to make them all pay."

The dark emptiness within Elena slowly heated and began to burn. She might be lost and alone, but, if she could get revenge for Stefan's death, her life would have purpose.

"Yes," she told him, nodding. "Vengeance."