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Coming to the Grill with Elena would be challenging, Stefan knew—he would meet all her friends and would have to fit in with them, at least make a good impression, and he hadn’t interacted with human teenagers in so long. Not like this anyway, when he was trying to blend in with them—dishonesty wasn’t his strong suit, no matter how necessary.
“This is Bonnie, and Daisy,” Elena introduced, once they’d gotten past the somewhat awkward moment with Matt. Stefan assumed there was some history there and felt sympathy for the guy. “And you’ve already met Caroline,” Elena added dryly, knowing that the blond had accosted Stefan in the hall and interrogated him earlier that day.
“Hello,” Stefan greeted politely, making eye contact with each one. “Actually, Daisy and I have met also.”
This got everyone’s attention and Stefan wondered momentarily if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “This past weekend, at the archives, in the library,” Daisy confirmed easily. “Pull up a chair and sit down.” She moved her bag from the chair they’d been saving for Elena.
Caroline rolled her eyes as they got situated. “The library? School hadn’t even started yet and you were already hanging out there?” She made it sound distasteful and slightly disreputable. “Probably working on a new history report in advance. No wonder you’re the only student Tanner likes.” Daisy smiled tolerantly at this.
“More importantly, why didn’t you warn us there was going to be a new student?” Bonnie chided her playfully. Stefan got the feeling he’d been a hot topic of conversation lately. That at least hadn’t changed about small towns.
“Well, you know me,” Daisy shrugged, looking right at Stefan. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
She was giving him an odd look and Stefan didn’t want anyone—especially Elena—to think he was interested in her, so he turned to Elena and observed, “Mr. Tanner seems a little…” He trailed off hesitantly but negatively, and the table exploded in agreement.
“Yeah, he’s totally an a-s,” summarized Bonnie.
“Let’s not talk about school,” Caroline insisted boredly. She leaned forward on the table, resting her chin delicately on her hands and blinking her eyes at Stefan. “Let’s talk about you,” she declared. “So you were born in Mystic Falls?”
“Yes, and I moved away as a child,” Stefan reiterated. He’d practiced this story many times, enough to deliver it like it wasn’t so practiced. But he also figured, that if it did sound a bit rehearsed, it could be because his family had moved around so much, and he’d said it many times to new people at new schools.
“You must have roots in the area,” Daisy probed, eyeing him steadily. “Since you were looking at the old land records.”
“There’s your uncle, right?” Elena intervened, though she didn’t seem to find Daisy’s behavior unusual. “At the boarding house?”
“Right,” Stefan agreed quickly. “That’s who I’m staying with. The family line goes back… a hundred and fifty years.” He hoped he didn’t sound like he was bragging.
“Well whose doesn’t?” Caroline dismissed and a quick smile flashed across Stefan’s face—the Forbes family and the Gilberts had certainly been around a while.
“What about your parents?” Elena asked, and he turned back to her.
“My parents passed away.” He knew this would resonate with her and almost wished he’d made up another story for them instead; the logistical complications would’ve been worth avoiding the flicker of pain across her face, he now felt.
“I’m sorry,” she replied softly, then recovered quickly. “Any siblings?”
“None I talk to,” he replied with a small smile. It seemed a safe way to avoid being specific, while still having an out if he found that he needed to mention Damon later, though he couldn’t imagine why that would be necessary. It felt wrong to deny his brother’s existence anyway, though Stefan realized that was ridiculous.
“So, Stefan,” Caroline began again, and he reluctantly faced the rest of the table. He really wanted to focus only on Elena but knew that would be rude. “If you’re new in town, you don’t know about the party tomorrow.”
“It’s a back-to-school thing down at the falls,” Bonnie clarified, when Stefan gave a questioning look.
“Are you going to be there?” he asked of Elena. He knew the question was blatant, but her answer was important to him.
“Of course she is,” Bonnie said for her encouragingly, and Elena smiled a little sheepishly, as if the decision were out of her hands.
“We’ll all be there,” Daisy added.
Stefan felt relatively satisfied with the day’s progress as he walked home that night. Elena was sweet, kind, friendly, protective of those she cared about—anyone could fall in love with her, easily, which probably explained why Matt kept shooting them baleful glances all evening. The party tomorrow night was a good opportunity to talk to her again, to get to know her—and to let her know him, at least the tiny sliver of himself he was able to share with her. He had considered the possibility that they just wouldn’t be compatible, or that he’d find her happy with someone else; but neither seemed to be the case so far, and though Stefan didn’t generally chase such things so aggressively, he was prepared to be tenacious in his pursuit of her. At the moment, it seemed like the way was clear for him.
“Stefan.” The voice from the alleyway startled him and he realized how buried he must’ve been in his thoughts, to not hear anyone else around. Resolving to pay more attention to his surroundings, he turned towards the alley. Daisy leaned there in the shadows and he had a few extra seconds to think, as he identified her in the gloom faster than a human should be able to. There wasn’t anything off about her specifically, but for a second a chill went down his spine, even though he didn’t normally get cold.
“Daisy,” he finally said. “Is everything alright?”
“I was just walking home from the pie shop,” she revealed, and Stefan nodded. After she’d left them at the Grill to go to work, Caroline had indiscreetly gossiped about Daisy’s mom being an alcoholic who frittered away their money, until Elena and Bonnie had shushed her.
“Oh. Do you want me to call you a cab?” Stefan offered. “It’s pretty late.”
She smiled faintly. “No, I’m fine walking home alone,” she assured him, and somehow Stefan believed her. “I just wanted to say something about Elena.”
Stefan stiffened slightly, bracing himself for whatever unknown thing was coming. He was fully aware he’d walked into a complex social situation—in fact he’d done some reading on modern teenage life to prepare himself for the possible intrigues and backstories. Queen Bees and Wannabes had been very enlightening. “Okay,” he replied simply.
Daisy took a step forward, highlighting the fact that he’d stayed exactly where he was on the sidewalk. Stefan chided himself for being so aloof and suspicious. “Elena is a friend of mine,” Daisy began, “and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
Stefan almost smiled with relief but realized that wouldn’t be the appropriate response. “I wasn’t planning to hurt her,” he promised Daisy.
“I just wanted you to know that people would notice if anything happened to her, if she started acting differently,” Daisy went on smoothly. She was utterly confident, not nervous at all, and for an instant Stefan wondered if she knew what he really was. But that was ridiculous; she couldn’t know, and even if she did, that knowledge wouldn’t make her less nervous talking to him. “Many people would notice.”
“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Stefan replied. The words tumbled out before he could stop them, overly dramatic for an ordinary, nice teenage boy who was just new in town.
But Daisy didn’t seem to find them odd. “Good. Have a nice evening.” And she turned and walked away in the opposite direction.
Stefan watched her go, forgetting to say anything in return until it was too late. Well that wasn’t weird, he thought sarcastically to himself as he continued on home. But it was nice Elena had friends who cared about her.
“Nice job rushing to Elena’s defense in history class,” Bonnie complimented Stefan at lunch the next day. “You should’ve seen the look on Tanner’s face when Stefan told him to check his facts at Civil Hall,” she added to Caroline.
“Why do I always miss the good moments?” the blond bemoaned.
“Yeah, thanks,” Elena added to Stefan, though uncomfortably; the teacher’s comments about her parents’ deaths had hurt and embarrassed her and she didn’t like reliving them. “It was amazing that you knew the answer.”
“History buff,” Stefan shrugged modestly. He didn’t like thinking about Mr. Tanner’s comments either; Stefan had been raised to show respect to authority figures, but the man had been way out of line and Stefan’s temper had flared.
“Usually it’s Daisy who knows all that boring history stuff,” Caroline added, glancing at the other girl. It was possible this was meant as a compliment.
“Not many people know about the civilian causalities,” Daisy acknowledged, gazing at Stefan. “I would’ve said only twenty-four myself, but the line between civilians and soldiers is sometimes blurry.”
“Yeah, I’ve never heard that part before,” Elena admitted, “and my parents were big history buffs, too.” She almost managed to mention them in a normal tone. “So, uh, the soldiers thought there were weapons in the church?”
“The accounts conflict,” Stefan demurred. “War often brings confusion, chaos. A rumor starts, people are desperate, shots are fired…”
“From what I’ve read,” Daisy offered thoughtfully, “I inferred that people were actually rounded up and forced into the old church to be executed by the soldiers.”
Stefan froze, staring at her as his mind raced. What sources had she read? How could he find out what she knew, while also deflecting the conversation to a new topic? “That’s awful,” Bonnie offered. “Why would they do that?”
“They were rumored to be something very dangerous,” Daisy continued slowly. “Something that needed to be weeded out and exterminated.”
“What?” Caroline whispered, seemingly hypnotized by Daisy’s voice.
“Union sympathizers,” Daisy revealed, which appeared to be less interesting than people had been imagining. “Maybe even abolitionists,” she added dryly, finally taking her eyes off Stefan to glance at Bonnie. Slowly Stefan released his grip on the edge of the table, moving his books slightly to cover the dent he’d left.
“They killed them because they didn’t want anyone to drink alcohol?” Caroline scoffed, and looks pinged around the table. “Kind of extreme. Speaking of drinking alcohol, who’s coming to the party tonight?” Clearly she was done with the whole tragic history topic.
“Bonnie seems like a good friend, I like her,” Stefan offered as they stood on the bridge near the falls, the raucous sounds of the party blissfully muted below them. This was true; he’d seen genuine concern and joy on the other girl’s face as she empathized with her friend, and this was sadly rare in his experience.
“She is, she’s the best,” Elena agreed. She scuffed lightly at the bridge with the toe of her shoe; not bored, but a little tongue-tied, unsure what to talk about.
“And Daisy, she seems to care about you,” Stefan added carefully. “Have you known her long?”
“Maybe a year,” Elena revealed. “That’s when she moved here. And even then I didn’t know her well until—until my parents died.” The subject had already been broached and Stefan seemed receptive to hearing more, so she plunged ahead. “Remember what Caroline said the other day about her mom?” Stefan nodded. “It’s true, I’ve seen her myself, coming home drunk… Daisy takes care of her, and her grandma, too. She’s good at taking care of people. When my parents died Daisy was there for me when—when other people sometimes weren’t, because they didn’t know what to say or do,” Elena went on, staring out over the water. “I think she’s been through a lot, and she knows how people feel when something happens to them. I guess sometimes she might seem kind of intense or odd—“
“But she was a friend when you needed one,” Stefan supplied understandingly. This explained her warning to him the night before; his jittery reaction he attributed to stress.
“That’s right,” Elena nodded. “Sometimes she’s hard to get to know better,” she admitted. “But she’s smart and funny, and I always feel better after talking to her.”
“And Matt can’t keep his eyes off us,” Stefan went on dryly, nodding down to the party where Matt quickly turned away. Elena sighed, but he could tell she was eager to explain. He hoped she didn’t feel interrogated, but he liked to know what he was up against.
So the girl in the woods was still alive. Big deal, Stefan could clean up that mess, or try to—actually, watching his no-doubt pathetic attempt would be highly amusing, though Damon couldn’t really say he’d planned it that way. Something had interrupted him in the woods, prompting him to leave before he was certain the girl was dead; maybe just a couple of drunk kids who couldn’t manage to stagger in a straight line through the bushes.
But no matter. He’d fed and he’d tormented Stefan, and what more could he ask for in a good night? Well, there was always some intimate companionship—and there were two girls at the table across the aisle who might do. He’d seen them both with Elena at school, which was perfect—‘dating’ one of her little friends (though he shuddered at the word) would give him an excuse to be around her and Stefan. So he could be closer to Elena, and tick Stefan off more. Couldn’t get any better than that.
Both girls were pretty, and he’d seen the dark-skinned one with Elena more often. But the blond was clearly more vulnerable—even without vampire hearing he could make out her drunken self-pitying whine about how Elena always got what she wanted without trying, leaving the blond out on the dung heap. He figured it must be true, because the other girl wasn’t even trying to talk her out of it. Well, dating the brother was the best revenge, Damon decided. Plus he had that older, bad-boy mystique, and he wore a black leather jacket. Those attractants hadn’t changed in a long time.
The dark-skinned girl left the table, giving him the perfect opportunity to shoot the blond an inviting look. She responded gamely, her excitement almost comical, and he inclined his head, suggesting she come over to his table. And just when she was about to accept—
Another girl came along and sat down beside her, taking her hand in a comforting gesture that seemed to distract the blond from him. She also had dark skin, long hair, dark eyes like dollops of chocolate, and she stared boldly across the aisle at him, even as she murmured soothing words to her friend. Her eyes traveled from one end to the other and they liked what they saw, he could tell. Being admired so openly was nothing new for him, of course, but the admirers weren’t usually teenage girls in casual restaurants, with the kind of poise and self-possession of someone twice their age.
He’d seen this one with Elena at school, too. And he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. She gave him a look that could only be described as ‘come hither,’ patted the blond’s hand, then got up and walked out the front door. Damon followed quickly, the whiny blond forgotten.
He wasn’t far behind her, but when he stepped outside the Grill the girl was gone—the street was empty and his keen senses picked up no one nearby. Damon frowned, wondering if she’d turned aside before actually leaving the building.
“Looking for someone?” The voice from the alley around the corner startled him but he tried not to show it—had he really gotten that sloppy, to not notice her so close?
Damon turned slowly, taking a moment to look her over. As far as alluring outfits went, jeans and a hoodie didn’t really do it for him; but the gaze she was giving him compensated. He sauntered closer. “Yeah, blond chick, so high, drunk and needy,” he teased.
She smiled dryly. “I think she went the other way.”
He stepped into the alley, forcing her to back up slightly. “Maybe she’ll come back.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” the girl advised, and Damon smirked; he didn’t need to breathe at all, but of course she didn’t know that.
He leaned against the brick wall, keeping his back to the alley entrance to obscure her from the view of anyone who wandered by. “So what’s your name?” he asked her.
“Daisy.”
At this, Damon laughed unexpectedly. “Daisy?” he repeated, dropping the flirtatious tone momentarily.
“What’s wrong with it?” she wanted to know, mostly unoffended.
“I was expecting something… sexier,” he admitted.
She raised an eyebrow. “Obviously you’ve never met the right Daisy.” He grinned, appreciating her attitude. He might actually enjoy ‘dating’ her, beyond the more obvious benefits. “What’s your name?”
“Damon.”
“That’s sexy,” she judged thoughtfully. “Can I get your number?”
Bold girl. And he was more than willing to help a bold little girl come to a sticky end. “Why don’t you come home with me tonight?” he countered, giving her his best devilish grin.
“Home?” she repeated, also grinning. “I’m sure I would’ve noticed if you lived around here.”
“Well, it’s more like a hotel,” he admitted. He didn’t think he and Stefan were at the ‘bringing girls home’ stage of their reacquaintance yet.
“Cozy bed-and-breakfast?” she teased, straightening the collar of his jacket. He grabbed one of the strings of her hoodie and tugged it lightly. “Picturesque boarding house?”
Damon froze. “What?” Surely Stefan wouldn’t have had time to tell anyone he was here—
“Or just the no-tell across the county line?” Daisy finished coyly, and he relaxed somewhat. He really needed to calm down a little, he decided. Possibly she wouldn’t notice he’d ripped the hoodie drawstring.
Stepping further into the alley, he backed her against the wall and put a hand up beside her head. She was really quite attractive, with eyes that were far too old for the face they were in. “Once we get there, you won’t even notice the setting,” he promised.
“You’re not into anything kinky, are you?” she asked with a smirk, and he shrugged a little. Depended on what she considered too kinky. “Pretending I’m dead or something?”
Damon tried not to grin too much at her suggestion. “We can skip that one for tonight,” he allowed mischievously.
“Aren’t you going to ask me?” she prompted. “Maybe I’d like to pretend you’re dead.”
He narrowed his gaze at her slightly, finding that this was getting a little weird—not the sex banter, but the death fixation. He reached across and cupped her neck, as if caressing her jaw, and felt the pulse fluttering under his fingers. “You seem very much alive,” he noted. It had briefly crossed his mind she might be another vampire messing with him. “Let’s go with that for the moment.”
Too late he realized the next likely move and caught her hand as she reached up to return the gesture—which would’ve shown no pulse on his part. He threaded his fingers through hers and pressed their hands back against the wall. “You can pet me later,” he decided. He needed to hurry the change of venue along before someone walked by, and he looked deeply into her eyes, feeling the slight tingling sensation of his compulsion powers kicking in. It was like flexing a muscle you hadn’t realized you possessed. “You want to come with me tonight,” he told her.
“I want to come with you,” she repeated. “But I can’t.”
The grin of satisfaction was wiped off his face. “What?!”
“I want to come—“ she started to say again, in response to his implied command.
“Stop, I heard you,” he interrupted. “Why can’t you?”
“I have to go home and look after my mom and grandma.”
Damon gave her a hard look at this unexpected obstacle. Her eyes stared, unseeing, over his shoulder, and she didn’t move from his hold. “Aren’t you attracted to me?” he checked.
“Oh yes,” she grinned. “I like bad boys, and you seem very bad.”
“Oh I am,” he assured her. “So you’re going to come with me tonight.”
“I can’t tonight. I have to look after my mom and grandma. How about tomorrow?”
Disappointment shot through Damon; he was surprised at the force of it. The most basic level of vampiric compulsion was akin to hypnotism—it was fairly easy to get people to do things they were more or less predisposed to do. Getting them to go farther—to break highly ingrained rules of behavior—was certainly possible, but it took more effort. And some people were just difficult to compel, like some people were difficult to hypnotize. With the plans he had in mind he couldn’t afford to spend his time cajoling his human ‘assistant’—that was the point, to find someone malleable. And Daisy, appealing though she was, was just not malleable enough.
Regretfully he untangled their hands and stepped back, breaking the compulsion. Daisy blinked a few times. “Sorry, what were we talking about?” she asked a bit sheepishly.
“I was just saying goodnight,” he informed her brusquely, turning away. No need to prolong things.
“No phone number?” she checked in confusion.
“No.”
“Well that’s a stake through the heart.”
Damon zipped back to her, pressing her against the wall again, though this time his motivation was not seduction. “What?”
“That was quick,” Daisy commented instead, trying to continue the flirtation. “I hope you aren’t so quick about—“
But Damon was in no mood for more banter. “Why did you say that, about the stake?”
Daisy shrugged innocently. “Just a joke. I’m disappointed. Something wrong?”
He thought maybe the answer was yes. Or maybe he was just being oversensitive. He didn’t usually ‘socialize’ much with humans, maybe vampire jokes were all the rage now, what with Twilight and True Blood. But just when he had himself convinced of that, he thought he saw a mischievous sparkle in her eye, and he seesawed back the other way.
“Are we going to stand here staring at each other until daybreak?” Daisy asked dryly, and he finally pushed away.
“No.” He was very much undecided on her and put her on his mental list to keep an eye on.
“Will I see you again?” Daisy called as he walked away again.
Damon thought of the whiny blond, who appeared to have left the Grill. She practically screamed malleable. “Absolutely.”