The Asylum (The Vampire Diaries 18)

“We’re safe,” Cora said flatly, sinking to the ground and hugging her knees to her chest.

I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I felt myself pinned to the wall by an unseen hand. I looked around wildly and realized the hand was connected to Damon. He squeezed my neck and scowled at me, hatred evident in his dark eyes.

“What now?” I asked, pushing him away. We had two vampires on our trail, a vigilance committee after us, and a cadre of policemen looking for us. Damon had the blood of an innocent girl all over his face. Yet all he seemed to be concerned with was reigniting our years-old feud.

“Well, Stefan,” Damon said, practically spitting out the words. “How do you feel about your grand plans now? Two more of your precious humans are dead, and not only are the police after me, but a Vigilance Committee is likely coming for me with torches and handcuffs. And instead of trying to destroy Henry or Samuel, trying to help me in the fight, all you cared about was how Cora felt.” Damon released his grip but kept his eyes locked on me. “You have no idea how to be a vampire. You have no idea how to fight. And I’m tired of listening to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Cora said in a small voice. “I should have been braver.”

“You should have been nothing,” Damon spat. “You shouldn’t even have been there. This is our world, and Stefan can’t seem to understand that he needs to live in it. All he wants to do is orchestrate events to his liking. He’s been telling me what to do since we got to London, and like an idiot, I’ve listened to him. But I’m not listening anymore,” Damon said. “We’re done.”

The words were like a knife to my stomach.

“Do you think I like living in tunnels and feeling like I’m hunted? Do you think I like seeing innocent humans die? I’m doing this to help you,” I shouted.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want your help,” Damon hissed, his voice low and ominous. “I didn’t need your help when we were humans, and I don’t need your help now. We’re done, brother. We’re done forever.”

“Fine!” I yelled. It was petulant and pathetic, but it was true. Because we were done. I didn’t want to worry and plan and always, endlessly, feel unappreciated and useless. I may have put up with that when I was a human, forever the younger brother trailing, puppylike, behind Damon. But not anymore. “Go.”

With that, Damon stormed out of the decrepit shop, batting the trunk away from the door as if it weighed nothing. I slammed the door behind him. If he wanted to run right into the arms of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, then let him go ahead. We were done. My thoughts were interrupted by a whimper from Cora. I placed a hand on her arm, knowing it wouldn’t do much to comfort her.

“It’s all right,” I said, even though it wasn’t. I felt the beginnings of a headache throbbing at my temples. Damon was gone, and it sounded like he was gone for good. And I didn’t blame him. I’d been angry with him in the past, but this was the first time I’d told him to go.

Good riddance, I thought, willing myself to believe it, trying to cast Damon as just another ill-mannered vampire, like the ones I’d lived with in New Orleans.

But he wasn’t. It was the same damning conclusion I’d always reached: Blood mattered. Damon mattered. Even if I wished he didn’t.

The sound of police bells drew closer, and I could hear footsteps. Torchlight danced along the whitewashed walls of the millinery shop, and once again I was thankful for Cora’s quick thinking.

Just then, we heard a cry from outside, so loud it rattled the windows, followed by the sound of doors slamming and footsteps echoing on the pavement.

“They found Cathy,” Cora noted, her voice devoid of emotion. I nodded helplessly. “I wonder where Elizabeth is. She can’t be alive, can she?”

“No.” I shook my head. Saying anything else would imply that I had hope. And I didn’t. The world was evil—I was evil—and everything I touched became surrounded by blood, destruction, and chaos. Including Cora. It was no way to live.

“It’s hard, isn’t it,” Cora said softly in the darkness.

“What is?” I asked.

“Living,” she replied. “It’s harder than death, I think. Because the first thing I thought when I saw Cathy was how lucky she was. She doesn’t have to live through this. She doesn’t have to see her friends torn apart, and she doesn’t have to live with any regret for bringing them into her problems. She’s free. It’s a wicked thought, isn’t it?” Cora asked.

“No, it’s the truth. I think it’s what Damon believes, too,” I admitted. I remembered when he had begged

for the death I refused to give to him. Was that the root of all our problems? And if so, what could I do for forgiveness? In the moment when Cora’s terrified shriek pierced the night air, I had gone to her without a second thought. But in doing so, I had betrayed Damon, scuffling with Henry nearby. Damon on his own in London was as good as dead. If Samuel didn’t get him, then the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee would.

“You know he wasn’t mad at you tonight. That was just an excuse.”

“Maybe he was right. You chose me,” Cora said in a small voice.

“I didn’t choose anyone. Damon can look out for himself. You…”

“Can’t?” Cora asked, with a raw laugh.

“… just saw your friend dead on the street,” I finished. “But no. Damon’s always looking for a reason to hate me. And…” I took a deep breath. “Maybe he should. Because you see, I loved my brother. And when I became a vampire, I wanted him with me. I forced him to turn against his will. He was fighting his transition and I made him drink human blood. And he’ll never, ever forgive me for that.”

“I don’t think that I would hate Violet if she turned me,” Cora mused. “I think if I knew she did it for the right reasons, I would understand and forgive her. At least we’d be together.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said after a moment.