“Patrick!” Samuel barked, and one of the young vampires pried my eyelids open with his stubby fingers. I writhed, looking up at the stars, trying as hard as I could to pinpoint the constellations, anything that wasn’t Samuel.
“Look at me!” Samuel ordered, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head up from the wooden dock.
“No!” I averted my gaze and focused on a spot of dried blood on Samuel’s cheek. What could I do to resist his compulsion? I tried to think of anything—Katherine, Mystic Falls, Cora, Violet—anything to take me to another time and place. I knew I had to resist looking in his eyes, but I felt my head being turned without my control, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before…
A blur raced toward Samuel, and a jolt caused him to release his grip. Damon had regained his strength and fought off Lord Ainsley. He jumped on Samuel’s back, but before he could get a good hold on him, five more vampires piled on top of Damon and pulled him off, leaving Samuel free to reinstate his death grip on me.
“Your brother won’t help you now, although your familial ties are admirable,” Samuel said. “As you know, I had a brother once. And then you two murdered him. And I’m afraid I’m the type of man who holds a grudge. Terrible character flaw, I know, but luckily, I have an eternity to attempt to correct it.”
I bit the inside of my lip and continued to look up at the sky. But then, I felt a burning sensation on my skin and realized one of the young vampires was holding a match to my cheek as Samuel continued to hold me down. I involuntarily jerked my head and locked eyes with Samuel.
“Good.” Samuel smiled. “Just stay there, and the fire will be over before you know it. But if you resist, then we’ll have to add more flames. It’s your choice.” I could smell my burning flesh and feel the flames heading toward my hairline. In the center of Samuel’s eyes, I was entranced by two tiny figures.
“That’s it,” Samuel repeated, his voice sounding like he was talking underwater. “Now, your brother was never good to you, was he? Always disappointed you? Always caused trouble?”
I couldn’t break my gaze. In Samuel’s left eye, I immediately recognized Damon. Or, at least, Damon’s body, consumed by flames. And in the right eye was a version of me. I was with a woman—whether I was kissing her or feeding from her neck, I wasn’t quite sure.
Was that the past? Was it the future? I didn’t know, but I was transfixed, wanting to see more. Samuel was still speaking, but I barely listened. All that existed in my mind was an image of Damon, dead.
“You may have turned your brother into a vampire, but he’s been the one to kill you, countless times. He’s destroyed your soul. And the only thing left to do is destroy him.” I nodded, almost unbidden as the image in Samuel’s eyes began to morph and suddenly, Damon was the one bent over the woman, his lips on her neck, brushing away her red hair. And I knew who the woman was. Callie.
The flames were getting hotter, and all of a sudden, I was no longer on the dock. I was back in New Orleans, on a hot, sticky September night. I was about to kiss Callie, when she staggered into me, a knife sticking out of her back. I’d lunged toward Damon, but I’d been too late. Callie was dead, but I still wanted more than anything to destroy Damon. I knew it wouldn’t bring her back to life, but it would give me the closure I so desperately craved. So Damon despised me for turning him into a vampire? Fine. Then let me kill him and be done with it.
But going after innocent people just to torture me? To prove some point about what happened in the past? I had wanted to kill Damon, then, back when he’d stabbed Callie. But I hadn’t. I’d held off. Deep down, I’d thought maybe something would change. Deep down, I’d thought I’d regret killing my brother. But some people didn’t deserve a chance. I thought of how Cora had killed Violet. She’d cried, but she’d realized that the creature she killed wasn’t truly her sister. Why couldn’t I do the same?
Samuel must have sensed my vulnerability. He knelt down next to me and whispered in a low voice, “Kill Damon.”
“Kill Damon,” I repeated. It felt as if a cloud had lifted from my mind, and everything suddenly clicked together with unflinching clarity. It was so simple. I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to realize what I had to do to finally feel free. I had to kill my brother.
If Damon were dead, I wouldn’t have to wonder who he was torturing, or being torture
d by. I wouldn’t have to worry about his moods, or his temper, or his tendency to laugh in the face of death. Most important, I wouldn’t have to worry if Damon was going to turn on me and kill me at any given moment. If Damon were dead, I wouldn’t have to worry at all.
I looked Samuel directly in the eyes, a smile forming on my face.
Samuel handed me a stake. “You know what you have to do.”
I did. The whole time I’d been in London, I’d been fighting the wrong enemy. The enemy was Damon. Now I had a new mission: Destroy my brother.
15
I frantically searched the docks for my brother—my prey. Damon had overtaken two young vampires. One was lying on his back, his head at an unnatural angle, while the other had a stake protruding from his chest.
Adrenaline throbbed in my veins. But it was odd: It was as if my body was pulling for Damon. For the past few weeks, whenever I saw Damon in the middle of a battle, I’d feel my Power surge as though it could leap from my veins to his. I wasn’t sure if it ever worked.
No, that was wrong. I didn’t want to help Damon. I glanced again at his victims. These would be my brother’s last murders. I would make sure of that. More vampires were circling Damon, but none had attacked. It was clear they were bound to whatever Samuel said and wouldn’t go in for the kill until given the instruction by Samuel.
“Stand clear!” Samuel commanded. The vampires stepped even farther away, opening up a path to my brother. I walked steadily toward Damon, hatred surging in my veins and overriding any instinctual inclination to help him. Yes, he had been my brother, but that was a lifetime ago. It was time to finally cut the filial ties. I’d be better off. With each footstep, I came up with new reasons to hate him. He worked tirelessly to steal Katherine from me. He killed Callie. He forced me into marriage in New York. He killed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of innocent people. He promised me an eternity of misery for turning him into a vampire, when all I’d wanted was my brother by my side.
We were face-to-face. I saw his blue eyes flicker toward me.
“Brother?” Damon asked.
Hatred flared in me. I hated the way he said it, so territorial and possessive. As if being brothers allowed infinite betrayals. How dare he stand in front of me, so cocky and self-assured? How dare he not apologize for the hell he’d put me through ever since Katherine had come to Mystic Falls?
“Stefan?” he asked tentatively. There was a note of something I hadn’t often heard in his voice. It was fear.
“You deserve to be frightened,” I said quietly. “Because this battle is personal, and I won’t forgive you for anything. Not until I’ve drained you of every last drop of blood in your body.” Before he could respond, I lunged at him, wresting the stake from his hands.