The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation: Unspoken (24 page)

No Zander, no Pack. His little redbird had seemed strained the last time he saw her; there must be trouble in paradise. It was a pity. They could have used the wolves.

Damon dismissed the thought. They’d work with what they had. He parked the car, and he and Elena crossed the parking lot to their friends, Siobhan stalking behind them.
There was a cold feeling on the back of Damon’s neck. He didn’t like not being able to see Siobhan’s every move.

“What a lot of humans,” Siobhan said. “Will we feed before we kill Jack?”

“No,” Damon said firmly, and the older vampire gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

“Jack’s in there,” Meredith said, as soon as they got close, jerking her head toward the warehouse on the other side of the highway.

“Oh, she’s one of Henrik’s nasty creations,” Siobhan said, sounding disgusted. “She’s not even real.” Meredith’s hand clenched on her stave.

Damon shook his head, and Meredith loosened her grip. She looked pale and drawn, which answered one question he’d had. She hadn’t been drinking human blood, not since she came back from Jack’s group. He hadn’t had anything but animal blood either, not since he’d fed from Elena. Neither of them were going to be at their best for this fight.

Still, they just had to overpower Jack long enough to inject him with the poison. And to rescue Matt, Damon supposed.

“Give me the poison,” he said, holding his hand out to Siobhan. She cocked her eyebrow at him. “Please.” She hesitated for a moment and then reached into her pocket and drew out a vial of dark liquid. She’d had it hidden
somewhere at the back of the cave among her corpses. She hadn’t let them see exactly where.

Damon waited. Siobhan turned the vial over in her hands, watching the liquid flow back and forth. Her eyes were hooded and thoughtful.

She’s not going to hand it over.
Damon sighed inwardly, preparing himself for the fight. Siobhan, freshly full of human blood, would be stronger than he was, but at least she was outnumbered.

“I don’t know,” Siobhan said slowly. “I’ve been waiting a long time to kill Henrik. And it was very clever of me to find the poison. This is
mine.
”

“Please,” Elena said. “Siobhan, you’ve been following him for so long. It must be a burden. Let us help you.”

The two pairs of blue eyes met squarely, and Damon was reminded of generals on a battlefield. They weren’t friends, would never be friends, but they had a common cause.

Siobhan broke their exchanged gaze first. With a scornful curl of her lip, she gave Damon the vial, her fingers cool as they brushed against his.

He looked at Jasmine. “Did you bring a syringe?” Jasmine nodded and bent her head to look through the medical bag she carried.

Damon prepared the syringe and tucked it carefully into his shirt pocket before turning to the others. “Ready?”

Everyone nodded. The humans each gripped a stake, while Meredith stood beside Damon. Her lips curled back in a snarl, showing her canines, already sharp and long.

“Breaking their necks will keep them down longest,” Damon told them, “but that’s tough for a human to manage. Strike hard and keep moving.” He shot Elena a small smile.
She
would be fine, he reminded himself. Nothing supernatural could kill her.

“Damon and I will go after Jack,” she said. “Everyone else needs to focus on Matt. Jasmine, you know where he is?”

Jasmine nodded, her eyes huge. “They have him chained up against the back wall.”

“I can break the chains,” Meredith said quickly. “Just be careful everybody, okay?”

Bonnie and Alaric linked their free hands, beginning to murmur a protective charm. Damon glanced at them all, the brave little group of humans—plus Meredith—he’d somehow gotten himself entangled with, and felt oddly fond. He could count on them to fight, to protect each other until their last breaths. Behind them, Siobhan stood statue still, her pale face blank, the splotches of blood on her dress dry now.

“Are you with us?” Damon demanded.

She stared at him. “I’m coming,” she said in her throaty, expressionless voice.

“Let’s go, then,” Damon said, and they crossed the highway.

Jack’s vampires depended too much on their deadbolts and their sharp hearing to protect them,
Damon thought with disgust. When he picked the lock and swung the door quietly open, they caught the guards on duty by surprise. They were a young couple, still almost human, who’d been wrapped up in each other instead of watching for intruders.

Damon had the impression of a bewildered, young face as he snapped the neck of the guy. When he turned to take care of the girl, Meredith already had her down on the floor.

“Good work,” Damon muttered, and Meredith rolled her eyes.

“Come on,” she said softly, and Jasmine, Bonnie, and Alaric followed her farther into the warehouse. There were crates piled everywhere, and they were soon out of sight, although Damon could hear their footsteps. He frowned. If he could hear them, so could any other vampire.

Elena stood beside him, poised with a stake ready in her hand. A little behind her, Siobhan, cold-eyed and expressionless, walked across the girl vampire’s body, a rib snapping audibly beneath her feet. Damon repressed a shudder. He didn’t like her so close behind Elena, looming like an angel of death.

Turning his attention, Damon scanned the warehouse for Jack, keeping his eyes and ears open. “Over there,” he murmured, jerking his chin toward a stack of crates. There was someone behind them.

He cocked an eyebrow at Elena, and she nodded.

A grunt came from the other side of the warehouse, and he glanced over just in time to see another vampire fall, Alaric’s stake in his chest. They needed to find Jack, kill him, and get out, before his minions started recovering and they lost their advantage.

Senses on alert, Damon rounded the crates. Through his shirt pocket, he could feel the hypodermic needle.

A warm body slammed into his, kicking and punching, and he raised a hand to protect the syringe. His left hand cupping his pocket, he spun and kicked his attacker away. It was only another of Jack’s vampires, a round-faced blonde. Damon snapped his neck with his free hand without pausing.

“Use your teeth, idiot,” he muttered. He didn’t know how Jack chose his minions, but it wasn’t for their brains. Or, Meredith excepted, their fighting skill.

A voice came from behind him. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Damon turned. Jack was lightly poised on the balls of his feet, his eyes tracking Damon’s every move. He wasn’t underestimating Damon as an opponent, not anymore.

With a burst of energy, Damon charged, canines extended. He slammed into Jack, and they both fell heavily to the floor.

Sinking his teeth into Jack’s throat, Damon grappled with him, trying to keep him down as the strange taste of Jack’s blood filled his mouth. Damon grimaced in disgust, but kept biting, working his teeth back and forth in Jack’s throat to reopen the wound before it had time to heal. Jack grunted in pain and thrashed beneath Damon’s weight, but Damon had him pinned.

The chemical-laden blood was flooding into his mouth, and Damon swallowed rapidly, gulping it down despite the taste. Blood would make him stronger, and he desperately needed that if he was going to defeat Jack. Damon felt almost lightheaded with it, fireworks bursting behind his eyes.

Damon drew back to get his hands on the syringe, pulling his canines from Jack’s neck. Jack twisted and thrashed, bucking up and finally throwing Damon off. Damon rolled backward, crashing into the crate behind him.

Jack leaped to his feet in one smooth, controlled motion, his face twisted with rage. Then he froze, looking past Damon. “Siobhan?” he asked. There was a note of fear in his voice, the first Damon had ever heard from him.

“Hello, Jack.” Siobhan’s voice came from behind, cool and mocking, but Damon didn’t turn to look at her. This was his chance.

He pulled the syringe from his pocket. The liquid inside shimmered dark blue in the light of the warehouse. He began to inch toward Jack.

Jack suddenly gave a cut-off shout as his body flew backward like a rag doll’s and slammed into the warehouse wall. Suspended there, his feet dangled above the floor. His hands were pressed backward, flat against the wall. He was straining, the tendons in his neck visibly taut. He couldn’t move.

For a moment, Damon was stunned into stillness himself. Then he felt Elena’s concentration, her triumph coming through the bond.
Being near Siobhan must have woken up her Powers.
Damon glanced at Elena. Her hands were up, palms out, as if she was holding Jack in place, and her eyes were bright with intensity.

“Give it to me. I want to do it,” Elena muttered, and Damon snapped back into action.

He took two steps toward her and slapped the syringe into her palm. Let Elena have this kill. If finishing Jack would give her some peace, help her find solace for Stefan’s murder, then Damon would gladly give it to her.

Still holding Jack in place, Elena stepped forward and jammed the needle into Jack’s neck. As she pushed the plunger on the hypodermic, she smiled, a sharp, angry smile—no joy in it, but a great deal of satisfaction. From behind them, Siobhan began to laugh.

Jack blinked. And then he began to struggle, his head banging back against the wall and his arms coming up to grasp at Elena. Her hold on him must be slipping.

Damon ran forward and tackled him away, ripping his hands off of Elena. They fell to the ground together and rolled, Jack tearing at Damon with hands and teeth. He was as strong as ever.

It hadn’t worked, Damon realized, filling with heavy dread, as he felt blood run down his side.
It hadn’t worked.
Damon slammed Jack’s head against the concrete floor and snarled with rage and frustration.

Damon gasped and lost his focus on Jack, who kicked him away. A stake drove through his ribs from behind. They hadn’t hit the heart, though, he realized dazedly, or he’d already be dead. He tried to sit up as he heard Jack get to his feet, his footsteps quickly moving away.

Siobhan stood over Damon, her bloodred lips curled in a smile. “I wouldn’t give you a real poison, you fool,” she said coldly. “I
love
him. No one will kill him but me.”

From behind her came a growl of fury. Siobhan gasped, her face distorting with pain, and arched backward, her blue eyes wide and startled. Fresh red blood spread across the front of her stained white nightgown. Pulling the stake from his own back, Damon realized
the tip of another stake was protruding from Siobhan’s chest.

This one, though, hadn’t missed the heart. Siobhan, her eyes suddenly blank, fell, her black hair spreading out around her. Behind her, with the face of an avenging angel, stood Elena.

Climbing to his feet, Damon caught Elena and pulled her against him. Her heart was beating hard, he could feel it pounding against him.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

Elena shook her head. “No,” she said, sounding dazed. “Are you all right? She
staked
you.”

Jack was nowhere to be seen—he must have escaped when Siobhan staked Damon. But Damon managed to arrange his face into a smile. “It takes more than a stake to take me down, princess.” His back was aching horribly, and he could feel blood running down between his shoulder blades, soaking his shirt.

Scuffling footsteps came from behind them, and Damon wheeled around to see the others coming back, supporting Matt, who leaned heavily on Alaric. Jasmine was trying to check his vitals as she hurried beside them.

“The vampires are starting to wake up,” Meredith said sharply. “We have to go. Did the poison work?”

Damon held Elena closer. “No.” He could feel her shock and despair resonating through the bond, echoing
his own. This had been their only chance. Siobhan had lied—and they had lost their chance to take vengeance for Stefan.

Jack was gone. They were no closer to finding a way to kill him, and their one lead had turned out to be worse than useless.

They had failed.

B
onnie clutched Matt’s hand, trying to hold him steady as Jasmine steered the car around a curve. Fresh blood was staining the bandage on his neck, and Bonnie’s stomach turned over. His neck had looked like a piece of raw meat.

“He’s bleeding again,” she told Jasmine, her voice thin.

Jasmine’s eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror. “Put pressure on it. We’re almost there.”

Bonnie took a cloth from the seat beside her and pushed it firmly against Matt’s neck. He gave a small pained grunt, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Sorry, so sorry. Is this right?”

“You’re doing great,” Jasmine told her.

Matt shifted, blinking his eyes open. “M’okay,” he muttered.

“Sure you are, cowboy,” Jasmine told him. “Just take it easy.” At the sound of her voice, Matt’s face relaxed, and his eyes fluttered shut again.

Jasmine pulled the car into a spot near the front door of Elena and Damon’s apartment building, and Meredith came around to the car to help Matt.

“Get the IV drip and the cooler of blood bags from the trunk, okay?” Jasmine asked Bonnie before she and Meredith hurried, supporting Matt, toward the front door, which Elena was already holding open.