Damon's smile was still lingering when the sheriff's voice rose behind them.
"Gentlemen."
Elizabeth Forbes had approached without a sound. Upright. Assured. The sharp gaze of someone who observed far more than she spoke. Her eyes lingered on Damon a second too long, too calm, too untouched, not even a trace of someone who had just been in an accident. Then she shifted her attention to the newcomer.
"I was expecting Zach, but I assume you must be Stefan. The other nephew of Zach Salvatore."
She extended her hand.
"Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes. But you can call me Liz."
Stefan took her hand with a polite smile.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sheriff. You're Caroline's mother, right? We have several classes together."
He kept using her title, deliberate, respectful.
Liz's expression softened immediately.
"Yes. That's my daughter."
Damon, of course, couldn't resist.
"Liz? Sexy nickname. And you have a daughter? Incredible. You really do learn something new every day. You look way too young, and way too fit, for that. Youthful mistake, Liz?"
Stefan stiffened. Was that even something you said to a woman?
Damon's lips curved upward, that almost insolent smile firmly in place.
Liz regarded him with a look that was half amusement, half exasperation.
"You're far too charming, and far too reckless, for someone who almost died tonight, Damon. But don't worry. I'm old enough to be your mother."
"Sheriff… Elizabeth… Liz… Liz…" he repeated softly, blatantly ignoring her point. "It suits you. Much better."
"Thank you."
She rolled her eyes but didn't hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. Tonight was already promising extra paperwork, and strangely enough, Damon's playful nature was almost welcome.
Almost.
But she wasn't here to indulge him.
"Enough joking. Take your brother home, Stefan. And tomorrow, I want him checked at the hospital. He clearly suffered a head injury."
The last part came with the slightest teasing edge.
Damon placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.
A head injury? Him? The sheriff was entertaining, he would give her that. Still, he would need to be careful around her.
The Council was still active in this town.
"Of course, Sheriff," Stefan replied with a quiet laugh.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
"Good evening, Liz."
"Good evening, Sheriff."
The Salvatore brothers spoke in unison.
And just like that, Sheriff Forbes walked toward the woman responsible for the accident, the woman who had seen the silhouette.
Something told her that silhouette hadn't been human.
Several bodies had been found drained of blood days ago. She needed to make sure it didn't happen again.
Stefan's smile slowly faded as he walked toward the car he had used to pick up his brother.
Damon frowned and called out after him.
"You could've at least helped with my luggage!"
Stefan didn't even look back.
Once Damon was seated, the engine roared to life.
Because of the accident, they had to take a long detour back to the boarding house. Perfect for Stefan to press for answers.
The younger Salvatore drove, but his eyes kept drifting toward his brother.
Again.
Again.
And again.
Damon stared straight ahead until he finally sighed.
"Go on. Ask. This is your one chance. After that, it depends on my mood."
"What are you doing in Mystic Falls?"
"Visiting."
"Damon."
"Fine. Fine. You missed me, so I decided to come see you."
"Damon," Stefan warned.
Miss him? Impossible. Damon hated him. More than a century ago, he had promised him an eternity of misery.
To Stefan, Damon's return could only mean one thing. Trouble.
Especially with Elena here.
A soft, amused sigh escaped Damon's lips.
"I could be serious. But why should I? If I started being serious all the time, I'd end up like you. I'd get wrinkles. I'd have to adopt your hero hairstyle. Have you seen me? How could I ever desecrate a face like this?"
Stefan's grip tightened around the steering wheel.
"When was the last time we had a normal conversation?" he muttered.
He exhaled and forced his focus back to the road.
"Speaking of faces… why do you look like that? You don't look older than twenty."
Damon laughed.
"Neither do you, baby brother."
"Damon. Why has your appearance changed?"
"Well, that's a good question. If you really want to know…"
Stefan's attention sharpened instantly.
"… my face, and even my body, changed ever since I started eating five fruits and vegetables a day. Healthy diet works wonders on the skin. Advertisements don't lie."
Stefan stared at him in disbelief.
Healthy diet? They were vampires.
"What happened to you? Don't tell me you had surgery. Does that even work for vampires now?"
Damon finally smiled again, but this time there was no mockery in it.
He studied Stefan's profile. The expression on his brother's face was complicated.
His vision blurred.
The other Stefan surfaced in his mind. His other little brother. The boy who used to follow him everywhere as a child. Forest green eyes. Inhuman beauty. Many had praised him as an Adonis in the flesh.
He remembered the argument. The accusation. Blaming him for what had driven Katherine to her death. The duel that followed.
He had been older. Stronger. More experienced with a sword.
So it wasn't surprising that he struck first.
Driving the blade straight through Stefan's heart.
And yet, in his final breath, his dying brother managed to stab him in return.
Just like that, their human lives ended.
Their immortal ones began.
Damon turned his gaze toward the window.
His eyes were glassy when he finally spoke.
"If you really want to know, Stefan… I was cursed."
There was no humor in his voice.
That other life carried a colossal weight of pain and betrayal, often intertwined. Calling it a blessing was impossible.
The car screeched to a sudden stop.
"What?" Stefan shouted.
"Calm down."
But Stefan didn't calm down.
"What did you do, Damon? Who did you piss off?"
His anger was palpable. His youthful features twisted with it.
Witches. It had to be witches.
They were the only supernatural species he knew capable of something like this. Vampires had no magic of their own.
Why would Damon provoke witches?
The thought only fueled his anger further.
Suddenly, something snapped.
Damon's eyes darkened as his fangs extended.
Veins spread beneath his eyes.
But it wasn't his usual vampire face.
It was worse.
More dangerous.
More inhuman.
More monstrous.
"Damn it," Damon gasped.
He didn't need to breathe, yet he felt like he was suffocating.
Stefan's anger, his sadness, his disgust, they slammed into Damon's mind like a violent shockwave.
He couldn't block them.
He couldn't shield himself.
He felt them completely, as if they were his own.
"Damon…" Stefan whispered, instinctively shifting away, though there was nowhere to go inside the car.
Damon groaned, his body nearly folding in on itself.
It hurts.
His skull felt as if it were filling beyond capacity.
Damn it!
Physical pain he understood.
Mental pain like this, he did not.
It hurts.
With the last fragment of consciousness he possessed, his body began to disintegrate.
Not into dust.
Not into ashes.
But into mist.
A mist so black it seemed to swallow the very space it occupied.
It slipped through the air vents.
Through every crack.
And then,
Nothing.
No Damon.
No mist.
Just… nothing.
Shocked was far too weak a word to describe Stefan's state of mind.
What he had just witnessed…
"What the hell was that?"