Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 13

That night I lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling. The moon sh 1 finished the gauzy uninfected curtains, and the house hummed with activity, a melee of footsteps, heartbeats, and mice skittering within the walls. It felt as though the consummate house were alive, with the exception, of course, of myself and Damon. The Sutherlands had no idea, merely when theyd clear their foundation to me, they had invited Death in. I was a cancer on their happy existence, and soon the darkness would spread, eating through their va allow de chambre until there was nonhing left.Though I was no willing bring outicipant in Damons worm plan, it would be no antithetic from how Katherine insinuated herself into my life and decimated the entire Salvatore family. Like it or non, this familys well-being rested squ arely on my shoulders. If Damon killed them, their blood would be on my hands, too. plainly how could I live him? I was so much weaker than my brother, and I had no plans to put dow n nourishment on hu manhoods once again for fear that Id be unable to stop.I rose from bed and pushed the curtains aside with a violent flick. As I sta reddened at the moon, that orb that had witnessed so much of my ill-doing, I replayed the conversation wed had with Margaret everywhere and all over in my head. The firm set of her jaw. The clear tone of her look. The way her lucid blue eyes had sized up me and Damon, as though she could keep in line straight through our come up to our unbeating hearts. Winfield was ready to sign his fortune over to Damon, yet his daughter remained immune to my brothers Power. merely how?The just protection I knew against vampires was vervain, but Id not inhaled its cloying scent since arriving in New York. When trying to draw expose Katherine, my father had spiked my whiskey with vervain, send Katherine into a miasmic fit when she drank my blood. If only my father had thought to protect me sooner, he and I might still be in Mystic Falls, p oring over write up books as I studied to add over Veritas.Sliding the window open, I stepped out onto the narrow balcony. The night was spookily still. No wind rustled the trees, and even the pigeons that roosted on the neighbors roof were quiet. My balcony faced east, toward the muddy eastbound River and the narrow spit of land they called Blackwells Island, where the city had recently rebuilt the lunatic asylum. A juiceless smile twisted my lips. If only I could check Damon in there. exactly wherefore I let out a groan and clutched the wrought-iron rail with my hands. I had to stop wishing and hoping and thinking of millions of if onlys. I could not wish Damon into oblivion and I could not rewrite the past. What was done was done. Even at my peak Power, I could not exertion the world to spin backward, could not arise back time and undo what Katherine did to me and my family. still I was not powerless over the future. I had free will, I had experience, and I had the choic e to fight.Hoisting myself up on the rail, I leaped to the roof, landing on the tar with a soft thud. New York was a bigger city, and someone, somewhere, had to grow vervain or at least pretend dried sprigs. Id chip kill up and down the routes until I caught the revealing scent of the herb. Spiking Lydias drinks would be impossible Damon was feeding from her but if I could just strewing some in Winfields whiskeyI ran across the roof, preparing to jump to that of the neighbor, before grading down their fire escape to the street below.Where are you going, brother? The cheery spoken language sliced through the night the same gunshot, and I froze on the ledge.Slowly, I move somewhat to face a bright Damon. He looked ready for the second part of his evening jaunt, wearing a triad-piece suit and twirling a gold slash in his hand. I recognized it instanter it had belonged to Callies father, the man who had imprisoned Damon, torturing him and ravenous him before forcing him to do battle with a mountain lion. Damon must have stolen it afterwards he killed Callie. Unbidden, an image of Callie bloomed in my mind. Her pleasing green eyes smiling at me, the freckles that dusted every inch of her bole, the way she had so bravely given herself to me on the set ashore of the lake, offering her blood even though she knew what I was and what I could do to her.Her dead, twisted body lying in the puke behind Lexis house.You bastard, I said in a low, fury-filled voice that I scarcely recognized as my own. Rage that had been grammatical construction for weeks with no outlet tore through my veins, and I felt as though my muscles were on fire. With a growl, I threw myself at him. Why wont you just let me be?Our bodies collided, like stone on stone. Startled, Damon trim down backward, but instantly he pushed me off and flipped to his feet. He wrapped his arms around my neck with a vise-like grip. If you were so do-or-die(a) to be free of me, you shouldnt have strained me to become a vampire with you, he hissed, all traces of joviality gone from his demeanor. I struggled to free myself, but his knee press more forcefully into my spine, pinning me to the roof. You were the one who urged me to become what I am to see what Katherine gave us as a bounty rather than a curse.Trust me, I gasped, trying to twist from his grip. I would evolve it back if I could.Tsk-tsk, Damon chided. Didnt Father watch you that part of being a man is living with your choices? He pressed my buttock into the tar roof, scraping open the genuflect there. Then again, you were such a chagrin to him at the end not wanting to marry Rosalyn, taking up with a vampire, killing himYou were always a disappointment, I spat. I should have killed you when I had the chance.Damon let out a dry laugh. Well, that would have been a shame, because then I couldnt do this.The pressure on my spine abated as Damon hoisted me up by the back of the shirt.What are you I start ed.Before I could finish, Damon launched me previous with the force of a lit cannon. My body careened through the night air, and for a brief, weightless moment, I wondered if I was flying. Then the sonorous pavement of the alley between the Sutherlands and their neighbors home rushed up to greet me, and my swot up cracked loudly on the impact.I groaned, upset radiating through my limbs as I rolled to my back, blood trickle down my face. I lay like that for hours, staring at the stars until my Power mend me, resetting my bones and stitching up the deletion in my cheek more swiftly than the most skilled medic could.But when I stood, a new pain shot through my chest. Because there on the brick wall of the Sutherlands home, written in red ink that could only be blood, were three terrifying wordsIm always watching.

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