chapter nine — let the right one in

      As Damon pounded on the wooden board with a hammer that blockaded the storm's pouring downfall, he vocally voiced his irate indignation. The vampires somehow escaped the tomb, resulting in two of them brutally attacking him and Stefan, also completely shattering their ornate window. So here he was, standing on a cushioned chair as he angrily banged the nails with a rickety hammer. "I say we go to Pearl's, bust down the door, and annihilate the idiot that attacked us last night." He was mostly outraged that the two vampires, who he remembered as Fredrick and Bethanne, were able to perform an unexpected assault on them. He should've been prepared.

      Stefan, although not entirely opposed to the proposal, thought rationally. "Yeah, and then what? We turn to the rest of the house of vampires and say, 'oops. Sorry.'?"

      Damon nonchalantly dismissed the possibility of potential challenges with a shrug. Elena crossed her arms, already visibly frustrated with Damon's presence. "I can't believe you made a deal with her." She said, referring to Damon's agreement with Pearl, a former vampire from the tomb that was speedily assimilating to modern times.

      "It was more like a helpful exchange of information." Damon corrected, "And it was not like I had a choice. She's scary. Besides, she's gonna help me get Katherine back." He wasn't even sure if he even wanted Katherine back. Did he love her? Of course, he did, but did he love her the same way he did almost a century ago? A couple of months ago? Truth be told, he wasn't sure.

      Elena laughed humorlessly. "Of course, she is." She rolled her eyes. "Damon gets what he wants, as usual. No matter who he hurts in the process."

      "You don't have to be snarky about it."

      She appeared gobsmacked by his casualness. "I woke up this morning to learn all the vampires have been released from the tomb. I've earned snarky."

      Damon released a sigh as he laid back on the couch. "How long are you going to blame for turning your birth mother into a vampire?" He asked, bored as he fiddled with the hammer. How was he supposed to know the woman he transformed into a vampire a decade ago was going to be Elena's mother?

      "I'm not blaming you, Damon," Elena said, inching closer with a smug expression. "I've accepted the fact that you're a self-serving psychopath with no redeeming qualities."

      Damon paused. "Ouch." He said but expressed no genuine sadness.

      Stefan soothingly rubbed Elena's back. "This isn't being very productive," He interjected, "I think we all know a way to deal with Pearl and the vampires."

      The older Salvatore shook his head, standing upright. "No way. She'll never agree to help," Damon exclaimed, a flicker of remorse crashed through him. "It's been days since I've talked to Gwyn." Although she was probably their only chance of surviving an attack on the tomb vampires, he wasn't great with making well-thought decisions. He would never admit aloud, but he did regret the way he had spoken to her that night she opened the tomb, but he was too stubborn to vocally express his apologies.

      Stefan quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe you shouldn't have taken your anger out on her and told her to never come back to Mystic Falls."

      Damon seemed almost ashamed of the recollection of that night. He had said some cruel lies to her before he demanded she remove her bond from him. Gwyn was evidently upset and departed from town without another word. He severely doubted she would merrily return to do him a favor. "My point is, you know how Gwyn is. She'll never talk to me again."

      Stefan acknowledged the truth in the statement. "Then I'll talk to her."

<<>>

      Elena Gilbert didn't think she would ever think this, but as she roamed around the desolate corridors of her high school, she was hoping Gwyn Desdemona was going to appear from the shadows with a newfound purity and help them with retrieving Stefan back from his hostage predicament. She still couldn't process that he was taken from the tomb vampires. She knew Stefan spoke with Gwyn briefly over the phone, but she wasn't certain what pertained to the conversation. Elena didn't even know if Gwyn had agreed, but she was grasping onto hope that she did.

      Elena appeared beside Damon, her expression drowning with dread. Alaric was momentarily stunned to witness Elena accompanied by this monster but he gathered his composure. "Mr. Saltzman," She broke the silence. "We need your help." The severity of her voice was enough for him to give them a few minutes to explain themselves. But he didn't want to spend any longer with the man who transformed his former wife into one of him and killed him the night prior. After entering his classroom, Elena continued. "Stefan's in the house. Damon's a vampire. He can't get in. We need you. I would go—"

      Damon was across the room, perched on a small bookshelf beside the large panels of windows. "But your life is valuable." Elena sighed with discontent as he spoke. "Yours, on the other hand..." Damon trailed off.

      Alaric disregarded his presence. "Stefan told me about your ring." Elena disclosed, glancing at the gaudy piece of jewelry encircled around her finger.

      "Let me recap—you tried to kill me, I defended myself. You died. Then according to my brother, your ring brought you back to life." Damon feigned perplexion. "Am I leaving anything out?"

      Alaric finally directed his attention onto the vampire across the room. "Yeah. The part where I try and kill you again." He stood from his rickety chair. "Only this time, I don't miss."

      Elena barricaded the path between Alaric and Damon. "Mr. Saltzman, please," Elena pleaded, her face was plastered with unwavering concern. "It's Stefan."

      Alaric was unrelenting. "I'm sorry, Elena. But it's not my problem." The thundering storm poured outside and her demeanor slumped as soon as the words fell from his mouth.

      Damon frowned. "That's a shame. Because the woman in charge of the crowd can help you find your wife." Elena's eyebrows furrowed with thick confusion as she whirled on her heel to face the older Salvatore.

      "You're lying," Alaric said, but the hint of hopefulness was obvious.

      Damon was beside Elena, easily towering over her. "Am I?" He rhetorically asked. "Why don't you ask her for yourself? Coward." Damon gently pulled Elena away, entirely aware Alaric was going to prevent them from continuing without him.

      Alaric peered down at the silver and onyx-black ring. "All right, wait. I'll go." He seemed conflicted with his own declaration but didn't say anything further. He unzipped his duffle bag and pulled out a rolled-up item. As he unraveled the black fabric, it revealed multiple hand-carved wooden stakes and metallic contraptions with a vial of liquid inside.

      "Teacher by day, vampire hunter by night."

<<>>

      Gwyndolyn Desdemona almost declined Stefan Salvatore's offer when he called her. She wanted to tell him to leave her alone in a brusque string of curses, to banish the Salvatore lineage from her thoughts permanently, but he pathetically needed her. On any other occasion, she wouldn't have given him another second of her attention, but he proposed a rather glaringly shocking proposition; he would be indebted to her. She was intrigued by the offer. Stefan, the former Ripper of Monterey, would owe her. And that was an offer she couldn't decline.

       Mystic Falls was drenched with an overwhelming downpour that thundered over the clouded skies. Gwyn's sodden clothes became heavy as she trudged further into the backwood's pathless foliage. She had performed a simple locator spell to discover their whereabouts. She was beginning to consider returning back to her father's home and disregard this situation, but in the distance, she could see Damon's vehicle. The blurred image of someone inside captured her attention. As she approached the passenger door, Gwyn recognized the outline to be Elena. She smacked the window, chuckling as she shrieked from inside the car. Gwyn unlocked the car and opened the door, uncaring to the damage the rain would cause on Damon's interior. "Useless as ever." Elena, who had been anxiously awaiting for Gwyn's arrival, rolled her eyes. But despite her unpleasantness, she was relieved to finally see her.

      "They're making me stay inside the car," Elena explained, her dejected expression worsened.

       Gwyn glanced at the quaint house in the distance. "Who's they?"

      Elena tightened her thin jacket over her chest, suddenly feeling the frigidness of the weather. "Damon and Alaric."

      Gwyn seemed almost offended as she returned her gaze back on her. "Damon asked for his help?" She pondered on making a decision that would evidently piss him off and as Elena shivered from inside the car, a devious plan formulated. "Get out, let's go. We're gonna save your boyfriend."

      Elena seemed shocked at Gwyn's decision to assist her in retrieving Stefan but didn't vocally complain. She shoved something inside her pocket and hurriedly stepped outside and the duo sped over to the house. Stealthily, they climbed over the porch's banister and pressed their back against the brick wall, listening to the conversation from inside. Upon noticing a cellar entrance, they glanced at each other, nodding before rushing down the stone steps. Gwyn opened the rusted gate entrance and Elena followed after her. Further down the corridor, there was a wooden door, locked. Gwyn made a small jerk with her hand and the door's lock shifted from the other side. They opened the door and continued onward.

      From the distance, Gwyn could sense the absence of life; a vampire. She stopped herself from curving around the corner, but Elena was too late. The vampire that was guarding the door noticed and hurriedly stood on his feet. Gwyn gave her a pointed look. She pushed Elena aside and was seconds from unleashing her magic when the man was stabbed and collapsed onto the floor. Damon appeared and made a double-take when noticing Gwyn's drenched figure. "You came." And there it was, the subtle shift of energy emitting from him. He was alleviated to see her, an all-too-familiar blossoming feeling churned in his chest. She was here.

      Gwyn rolled her eyes, pushing passed him. "Suck my dick, Damon." And just like that, Damon was back to reality. Elena didn't waste another second and slammed the wooden door ajar, gasping in shock as she witnessed the horrible spectacle of Stefan tied from the ceiling, bloodied and pale.

      Stefan struggled to open his eyes. "Elena," He muttered, his voice strained. "You shouldn't be here."

      Damon followed not long after. "She was supposed to stay in the car, but Gwyn strives to make my life difficult." He unsheathed a wooden stake from his pocket and raised the weapon into the air, almost impaling the other vampire strapped to a chair, his thighs with stakes protruding from them. His skin was sheen with sweat, stained with dried blood and his clothes were torn. It was obvious he was being tortured, as well.

      Stefan barely lifted his head. "No, no. Not him." His voice was a strained whisper.

       Elena and Gwyn helped each other unite the ropes encircled around Stefan's arms, seeing as they were drenched with vervain, and barely caught him as he collapsed from the ceiling. His bare skin was damp from sweat and blood from thin slices made by knives. Stefan, however, was adamant about releasing the other vampire so Damon reluctantly pulled the wooden pieces from the man's thighs. "Can you get him to the car," Damon asked Elena, who covered Stefan's exposed body with his dirtied jacket. His arm was draped over her shoulders. "You rescue. Gwyn and I will distract." Elena didn't protest and disappeared as they climbed the stone steps into the night.

       Damon and Gwyn continued throughout the house, wordless but still entirely aware of each other's presence and every move the other was going to make. Brutally murdering each vampire they came across in a ruthless rage, she would use her magic to freeze them in place while he staked them or yanked their hearts out. It felt natural to be by her side in this kind of situation. But as they reached the entrance of the house, a vampire appeared and slammed Damon onto the wall, transforming into a hasty blur as the two of them alternated on who had the upper-hand, crashing into all the furniture. Then another two appeared from different directions, pulling Damon off by both his arms while he struggled to release himself from their grasps. With a surge of energy, Gwyn extended her hand outward, focusing on the invisible tugging sensation tickling her fingertips, removing both of the vampire's hearts. They fell to the floorboards as their skin transformed into a pallid grey. But the other vampire, Fredrick, disappeared as Alaric stepped into the room, his stupid weapon he almost killed Gwyn within his hands. Damon followed after him.

      Gwyn heaved a sigh as her shoulders slumped. The strain was beginning to appear, she was beginning to gradually lose her energy. Alaric hesitantly stared at her as if he wasn't sure if she was a threat to him, his hand clenched around the handle of his weapon. There was a moment of hesitation between his finger pressing the trigger. "Relax, Van Helsing, I'm on your—" But another vampire latched himself onto Alaric and bit his throat, his skin tearing and blood streamed down his neck. Gwyn looked disinterested as she gave the vampire a torturous pain to his head. He groaned as he gripped his temples while struggling to remain upright. Alaric used this moment of distraction to stab the vampire in the heart. He pushed the corpse off him, glancing at where Gwyn stood. She shrugged. "As I said, I'm on your side."

      Damon sped back inside. "Fredrick's gone."

      Alaric breathed heavily. "Let's get out of here." Neither of them were opposed to the demand, but as they opened the front door, the three of them were welcomed with the sight of dozens of more vampires slowly walking towards the porch where they stood.

      "How many of those vervain darts do you have?" Damon asked warily.

      Alaric didn't answer immediately as he checked his inventory. "One."

      "Gwyn, can you do your mind-thingy?"

      She sighed, her hands balled by her sides. "As powerful as I am, there's only so much I can do after giving twenty vampires aneurysms."

      The three of them hurriedly stepped back inside after giving each other knowing looks, closing the door behind them. "So what you said to get me to do this, about my wife," Alaric said, watching the door carefully as they banged on the wooden boards of the door from the other side. "It was a lie, wasn't it?"

      "Yup."

      They were preparing for the door to collapse any second, then there was silence. "Stop! What's going on here?" The door creaked open and revealed a gobsmacked Pearl with her daughter. "What did you do?" She whispered as she noticed several corpses strewn across the floor.

      "Me," Damon asked, incredulous. "Your merry little band of vampires spent the day torturing my brother." He said, inches from Pearl's face.

      Pearl seemed disappointed but horrified. "Trust me. The parties responsible for this will be dealt with."

      "No, our little agreement doesn't work unless you learn to control them," Damon said, poking the stake tauntingly at Pearl's throat.

      "This wasn't supposed to happen."

      "Well, it did." He pushed Pearl as he walked towards the door. "If I had a good side, not a way to get on it."

      Gwyn trailed after him. "Have fun cleaning this mess up."

<<>>

      "So, how does this work?"

      Gwyn strolled beside Damon as he ascended the marble staircase outside the Founder's Hall. The security guard, evidence of the Council's paranoia, nodded in his direction and allowed him inside. "It's called Astral Projection," Gwyn explained, absorbing her surroundings. She couldn't remember the last time she was inside the Founder's Hall. "My spirit is here with you, but my physical body isn't. Nobody will be able to see except you so avoid talking out loud." Or avoid talking altogether, she thought. She still hadn't spoken with him about that night and she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to have that conversation.

      They entered the room where the remainder of the Founder's Council gathered, speaking amongst themselves in a hushed manner. The discovery of Vicki Donovan's death was still a brewing topic. She and Damon thought where they buried her was a suitable place, but that was until Caroline stumbled upon the corpse. As the sheriff stood before everyone, the noise settled. "The coroner's office has officially ruled Vicki Donovan's death a drug overdose." She declared, a wistful gleam in her eye. "Her family has been notified. The truth will stay in this room, and we can put this behind us."

      The mayor appeared beside her. "Thank you, Sheriff." He replaced her spot and stuffed his hands in his pockets in an arrogant manner. "And onto a more pressing issue. John Gilbert has asked to say a few words. Welcome back, John. It's good to see you." Damon and Gwyn, shocked by his last name, craned their heads to gain a better view of the man. He was blonde, blue-eyed, and walked with confidence as he placed himself in front of everyone.

      "Hello, everyone. It's wonderful to see you. I wish it were under better circumstances." He said, "As a Founding Family member, I find it's my duty to report some very distressing news."

      Damon leaned close to the Sheriff. "He's a Gilbert?" He asked.

       "Elena's uncle," Liz answered. "His name's John, but I call him jackass."

      "A hospital blood bank in the neighboring county of Amherst has reported several break-ins over the past two weeks. Seven hunters, four campers, and two state employees have been reported missing as well. All of this within a seventy-five-mile radius of Mystic Falls."

      The mayor, sensing the upcoming dread and panic from the members, reassured everyone with an apprehensive tone. "Okay, no need to get alarmed right at this moment."

      Liz inched closer to Damon's ear. "Meaning he doesn't wanna cancel the Founder's Day kick-off party."

       Gwyn rolled her eyes as she groaned. "Are we still going to that?" She questioned. She didn't even want to be here in Mystic Falls, especially a gathering where the town's elitists converged while eating overpriced hors d'oeuvres. But she did feel indebted to getting rid of the tomb vampires seeing as it was partially her fault they were out and about. But she still hadn't forgiven him for what he did and said the night she opened the tomb. Damon, remembering her advice on avoiding vocal communication, meekly nodded as he focused on Elena's uncle.

      "You think all of your problems are over," John said, "But I'm here to tell you nothing's been solved." His eyes were glued onto Damon and this unsettled Gwyn.

       Gwyn and Damon exchanged a glance. "This asshole knows something, doesn't he?" She sighed heavily. "I guess we're attending after all. Pick me up at seven."

<<>>

      The Founder's Day kick-off event was as unnecessarily flushed with wealth as she expected from the Lockwood family. Light decorated the staircases, serene piano music flowed through the rooms while people sipped their bubbly champagne. She thankfully separated from the Salvatore brothers, entirely aware of annoying urges Stefan was experiencing ever since he drank human blood for the first time in who knows how long. So, she grabbed a glass of champagne and trudged to the balcony that was thankfully empty.

      She was pissed with herself returning back to Mystic Falls and its never-ending cycle of undead drama, especially with Damon. She didn't return because of him, their bargain was permanently severed because she completed her task. The tomb was opened, but Katherine just happened not to be residing inside. She would be lying if she said she wasn't thankful for Katherine's absence. She just didn't know why. And she was especially upset when Damon unrightfully blamed Gwyn for the problem. She promptly departed the town shortly after, but Stefan brought her right back when he promised he would be indebted to her. That was an offer she couldn't ignore.

      "Gwyndolyn, right?" She drank her champagne in a slow, calculated manner. She recognized John Gilbert's voice and she determined that she already disliked him. There was something annoyingly arrogant about his behavior. Whirling on her heel, she faced him.

      She placed her tall glass on the concrete banister of the balcony. "Why bother asking if you already know?"

      "Just making pleasantries."

      Her crimson-red dress didn't do much against the coldness of the night. She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Well, let's skip the pleasantries." She said, dumping the bubbly alcohol over the ledge. "What do you want, John Gilbert? Are you here to talk about the vampires?"

      He stepped closer. "Just wanted to know what you think. You know this vampire problem is real, right? It's a potential blood bath." His words were kind and curious, but his voice suggested he already knew the answer to his own question.

      "Blood bath? Such a shame I don't care." She retorted, blase.

      "I think it's like 1864 all over again, vampires running amok." Gwyn didn't remove her harsh gaze from him, his aura was thick and easy to decipher. He was taunting her, waiting for his words to initiate a reaction. "Guess we're just gonna have to hunt them down, throw 'em in a church, and burn them to ash."

      She was beginning to wish she hadn't wasted her champagne. She was definitely going to need more alcohol to continue this conversation. "My god, you're boring me. Can we skip the storytelling and just get to the part where you accuse me of whatever it is you think I did?"

      "You opened the tomb."

       She paused, shrugging with an indifferent frown. "Oh, I definitely did do that." World-weary, she glimpsed over the ledge to see if anybody was on the bottom. Complications would arise if the townspeople witnessed the renowned Gwyndolyn Desdemona carelessly murder the town's starlet. "Let's make things interesting." With one quick flick of her hand, he was tossed over the balcony and landed on the floor with a sickening crack. Stealing a quick glance at his corpse, she smiled with satisfaction. She then returned back inside.

      Eventually, after roaming around the gathering, Gwyn finally found Damon. She casually strode beside him at the open bar. "So, I just killed John Gilbert," She commented aloud, ignoring his surprised expression. Sure, her actions were careless, but she was slightly buzzed and couldn't bring herself to care. He opened his mouth to protest, but she interrupted him. "He knew about the tomb, might even have known you and Stefan were vampires, so I threw him over the ledge." He analyzed her with wide eyes, disbelieving.

       Damon paused, expression transforming from shocked to bewildered. "Gwyn, I thought you killed him?"

       She grabbed his drink from the glassy countertop and brought the rim to her blood-red lips. "I did. What do you—" Across the room was John Gilbert, alive and proudly striding across the room as he surveyed the room. "You've gotta be kidding me."

      The room quieted as Mayor Lockwood clinked a spoon against his golden-rimmed glass. "Thank you all for joining us tonight. In just a few moments, we will officially begin the countdown to our upcoming Founder's Day celebration, and it's a very special someone this year, the 150th birthday of our town." Everyone drowned his voice in roaring applause. Two members of the council brought out the town's rusted bell. "And I would like to welcome back one of our town's favorite sons, to do the honors of ringing our official charter bell. John Gilbert, would you please join me up here?"

      Gwyn seethed as the town's people clapped as he emerged from the gathering. "150 years of community, prosperity, family. We take care of each other," He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd for Gwyn and when they landed on her irate expression, he had the audacity to smirk. She replicated his cold smirk and raised her middle finger up. "Protect each other. It's good to be home."

      She pushed through the crowd with Damon behind her. Alaric seemed surprised she was willingly speaking with him. "Mystic Fall's perfect little ray of sunshine has the same ring as you." As John rang the bell, Alaric raised his eyebrows in understanding. "I didn't think too much of it until he came back from the dead five minutes after I pushed him off a balcony. Where the hell did you get that ring?"

      Absentmindedly, Alaric twisted the ring on his finger. "Isobel, my wife."

      Damon chuckled humorlessly. "Who gave birth to Elena under the medical care of the esteemed Dr. Grayson Gilbert, John's brother."

      A flash of anger gleamed in Alaric's eyes. "You think John knew Isobel?"

      Gwyn swiped Alaric's drink from his hand. "I know John knows a lot of things."

<<>>

      "Hey, asshole. Going somewhere?" Gwyn followed after John with livid determination. Alaric and Damon weren't too far behind, ensuring she wouldn't snap his neck. She couldn't understand why she was so connected with John, something about him unnerved him, like he knew something she didn't and took pride in that.

      John didn't bother facing her as he responded. "Never like to be the last one to leave a party. It's too desperate." Gwyn, although much younger than him, walked with a regal elegance that was much more mature than him. "You here to kill me again? Or are you gonna let Mr. Saltzman or Damon do your dirty work?"

       Alaric stopped walking. "Okay, you obviously know who I am." He said, he didn't seem alarmed that Gwyn had already tried to kill, but seemed bothered that he knew who he was.

      "I do," John said, "Alaric Saltzman, the high school history teacher with a secret."

      Damon stood beside Gwyn, ensuring she wouldn't attack him at any second. "You sure know a lot for someone who just got to town."

      John chuckled. "More than you can imagine, Damon." He inched ahead. "My knowledge of this town goes beyond anything that you or both of you or the council knows. So if you were planning on some clever high-speed, snatch-ring, vamp kill move, know that if I die, everything I know goes to the Council, including the fascinating little tale of the original Salvatore brothers and their present-day return to Mystic Falls."

      Gwyn paused, then pressed her lips into a thin line. "Anyway, not a big fan of melodramatic speeches, so I'll just get to the point. Where'd you get that ring?" She asked curtly.

      "I inherited one, my brother Gray, the other. This was his. And I wouldn't have given mine to Isobel had I known she'd hand it over to another guy."

      "So you did know her?" Damon asked.

      John laughed. "Who do you think sent her your way when she wanted to become a vampire?"

      "You sent her?" The slight disappointment was obvious in his voice and Gwyn remained stoic despite the wound straight to her heart.

      "Guilty," John said, "Why, did you think someone else sent her? Maybe Katherine Pierce?"

       Gwyn rolled her eyes. "Jesus, dude. How do you know about that bitch?"

      "How do I know anything, Gwyn?" John glanced over at Alaric. "Pleasure meeting you, Ric. I've heard so much about you." And with that, he turned and continued onward down the concrete road.

      Gwyn looked up at Damon. "We're killing him, right?"

      Damon's eyes hardened as he watched John walk away with that same annoying arrogance. "Definitely."