The Asylum (The Vampire Diaries 18)

“That’s not what we heard,” Henry said in a low voice. “I knew the move to America wouldn’t be good for Katherine. Samuel knew. But she was insistent, and when that girl got an idea…” He shook his head and snickered ruefully. “It was supposed to be temporary. She called it her ‘Grand Tour,’ a chance to see the world and live a bit before she settled down,” Henry said, glancing toward the main house. “My brother was devastated when she didn’t return. He loved her. And I love him, so I’m going to do whatever it takes to help him take his revenge. Is that clear?”

“She would never have returned to Samuel,” Damon said, disgust evident in his voice.

“Oh, but she would have,” Henry said, a sly smile on his face. Was it true? Had Katherine simply been biding her time in Virginia? Every statement Henry made brought up more questions. “She was going to make her name in America, and he was going to lay claim to London. Then, they’d combine their fortunes. But of course, they’d also have their fun. United, the two of them were unstoppable. You couldn’t tie them down. They were ambitious, beautiful, and powerful.” Henry sighed. “And then you ruined it.”

“How about I help you both by putting you out of your misery? I’ll kill Samuel, so he can join Katherine in hell,” Damon growled, his eyes narrowing. They were pacing around each other as I looked on, forgotten for the moment. This truly was Gallagher’s circus ring all over again: two vampires pitted against each other, and only one would survive. As much as I hated to admit it, Damon’s odds didn’t look good.

“Don’t you want to hear more? I haven’t told you how Katherine used to write letters to my brother, laughing about the two country bumpkin boys she’d met in Virginia,” Henry taunted.

Damon lunged at Henry and threw him to the ground. “Katherine loved me,” he screamed into Henry’s face. But Henry only chuckled. Then, with incredible force, he pushed Damon off him and against a tree. In a flash, Henry had Damon’s wrists pinned to the trunk. He reared his head back and spat in Damon’s face.

“Katherine would have killed you eventually, you know. That was always her plan. And now, it seems I have to finish her job.”

Gathering my strength, I surged forward and pushed Henry away from Damon, intending to get him to the ground. But he was stronger than me, and shrugged out of my grasp as easily as slipping out of a cloak. The two of us stood facing each other, panting with exertion. His arm hung limp by his side, and I felt a jolt of surprised satisfaction. At least I’d managed to injure him.

“I’m not wasting my time with you right now,” Henry hissed, cradling his elbow. He turned to head back into the party. “Try to have better manners next time. And that, of course, includes not staking your hosts,” he called over his shoulder.

Damon stood. “Coward. Let’s go, brother. I’m not going to waste my energy on that twit.”

Together, we turned and walked into the darkness. Damon strode ahead, clenching and unclenching his fists. I knew he was deeply disturbed by Henry’s story. He’d loved Katherine. He still did. Saying her name was the only thing that could bring a far-off expression to his eyes and stop him in the middle of a sarcastic diatribe.

“Are you all right?” I asked, putting my hand tentatively on his shoulder.

He shrugged me off. “I will be. Once Samuel’s dead.”

6

Katherine Pierce was a gruesome vampire, never hesitating to drink from a stranger—or a lover. So why could I still remember the feel of her lips against mine? And why was I suddenly obsessed with whether or not she and Samuel had been together? Katherine had such a hold on my brother and me, even with her body long since charred and buried. Which one of us would have to die for her spell to finally be broken?

Lately, I’ve been remembering things I thought were lost long ago. When I was fifteen or sixteen, I started dreaming of a girl. The dream always took place in a verdant field that looked like the far corner of Veritas, where the rolling green hills met the forest. She always seemed a few paces beyond my reach, separated from me by a dark, murky cloud. The girl’s face was always hazy, but I could see her straight, long, brown hair and her olive skin. Even unable to see her clearly, I knew she was beautiful.

When I met Katherine, I thought I’d finally found her, the girl I’d been dreaming of. The one who filled me with unrelenting desire and longing. But as I slowly came to discover the monster Katherine truly was, I knew in my heart she wasn’t the one.

I still held out hope. Maybe, right now, I was being tested. Maybe when I finally found her, I would be worthy of her love, that girl of my dreams.

I didn’t speak to Damon during our walk back to the tunnel, and he didn’t speak to me. Tension lay thick between us, and I knew we were both thinking of Katherine. There was nothing to distract us from our memories. The streets were deserted; most people were staying inside after dark, afraid of meeting the Ripper. The clock had struck midnight along our walk. I used to love this time of night. It was a time to hunt, a time to let my thoughts unpack themselves, a time to feel the world slowing down. Now, I felt like we were the ones being hunted. After all, Samuel would retaliate—it was inevitable. But when?

Finally, we reached the embankment.

“Home sweet home,” Damon wisecracked as he stepped onto the ladder and began the climb down into the tunnel.

My mood turned as soon as I reached the bottom and saw firelight dancing on the opposite wall. A petticoat was strung across the tunnel, creating a makeshift wall, and a rusty, dented teakettle was balanced precariously over the fire.

“Welcome home!” Cora said, spreading her arms wide. Kohl rimmed her eyes and she’d pulled her red hair into a high bun on top of her head. She wore one of the dresses I’d brought, which made the most of her small frame.

For the first time that evening, I felt like things might actually be all right. Cora’s hard work reminded me of a fairy tale my mother used to read to us, about Snow White, a beautiful princess forced into hiding amid dwarves. This version was much more sinister, but Cora played her part admirably: the kind woman trying to tame our savage tendencies.

“Did you see Violet?” Cora asked urgently. “I asked around at the Ten Bells but Alfred hadn’t seen her. And then I wanted to come back in case you had found her. I wanted to be here to greet her,” she said, shrugging sadly.

Damon nodded. “She’s safe,” he said shortly.

“Oh, good!” Cora said, her hands flying to her face in relief. She turned her eyes up as if in prayer. “Thank you. And is she…”

“We didn’t speak to her,” I said. “We weren’t able to get inside Samuel’s house.”

“What happened?” Cora asked.

I settled onto the ground and began telling her what we’d found at Samuel’s. Occasionally, Damon would chime in with his own observations. Cora nodded, but I could tell all of it—revenge, staking, a beautiful, centuries-old vampire controlling myself and Damon and inspiring Samuel’s hatred of us—was beyond her comprehension. It was beyond anyone’s rational comprehension.