Chapter Text
It was oddly cold for a summer day, causing Bonnie to pull the light cardigan tighter around her shoulders. The sun was sinking into the ground, dusk descending upon the tombstones as though death was greeting them again. Fog rolled in, covering the ground in a white mist that felt haunting and terrible. For a small town, Mystic Falls seemed to be a place that attracted such tragedy. As a child, Bonnie had never really thought much about the concept; pushing the odd occurrences and her mother’s silent whispers aside. That is, until she experienced a heartache that she could not have foreseen.
Elena Miranda Gilbert
June 22, 1992 - May 23, 2009
A beloved daughter, sister and friend.
Gone too soon.
“I really miss you Elena.” Bonnie whispered, placing a boutique of white lilies at the base of her grave as she did every year. Ten years had passed and yet it still felt as though the death was fresh and new, burying itself into the depths of her heart. She reached out to touch the words with the tips of her fingers, tracing each of the letters as she read over the words she had already memorized. A snap of a twig pulled her from her thoughts, her eyes looking upward to see a figure in the distance. In the mist, Bonnie could see a woman, dressed in a long white gown and blonde locks flowing behind her. The woman peered over her shoulder at her, a gentle smile gracing her lips.
“Ayana.”
The voice was low and tired, whispering alongside the breeze. It caressed Bonnie’s skin, pulling her forward and urging her to step towards the woman in the distance. Yet, the woman turned from her, her long blonde hair flowing in the gentle wind, and weaved her way through the gravestones. Bonnie began to run after her, following the need to chase her but it seemed to be impossible to catch her. Even in bare feet, the woman was faster than she was.
“Ayana.”
“Wait!” Bonnie cried, knowing that the woman would not slow or turn to her. Further and further she went, stepping over graves as her fingers danced along the stone. Passing mausoleums and iron gates, barely seeing them as she went. It wasn’t until the sun had fully set and the full moon hung well into the sky. The woman stopped in the ruins of something old that Bonnie had never seen before and looked over her shoulder. Bonnie could see her smile, bright and happy like the sun that had greeted them. But her pause did not last long and before Bonnie reached the tip of the tunnels, the woman had already descended into them.
She could still hear the whispers coming from the darkness, pulling her down the dirty stone steps. She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone to click on the flashlight, creating a beam that allowed her to see. Bonnie entered the long and winding tunnel, following the distant figure of the woman and listening to the whispers that grew louder and louder as she pushed forward.
“Ayana.”
When Bonnie reached a wall of stone, she thought the woman had vanished, perhaps being nothing more than a figment of her imagination. She reached out to touch the stone, pressing her palm against it and pushed. She did not know what caused her to do it but the stone moved, creating a doorway to a chamber that was buried beneath the ground. Dust fell from the ceiling and the grinding of stone against the ground could be heard but soon enough Bonnie found herself standing in the middle of the chamber, the whispers growing impossibly loud.
The flashlight on her phone flickered and then went out, casting Bonnie into darkness. She hit her phone against her leg, hoping that it would turn the light back on but the phone appeared to be dead, the battery having died out. She groaned, turning on her heels, hoping to see the light at the end, helping her find her way out. But she didn’t.
The tunnel had closed in, the stone door locking itself into place.
“Shit!” Bonnie raced to the stone door, beating her hands against it, crying out to no one that could hear her. She nudged and pushed, hoping that the stone door would give way but it didn’t move. She was trapped and the fear of what it meant to be buried alive took over. Panic swelled in her chest as a thousand scenarios played out before her, none of them having a happy ending.
“Ayana.”
The voice was louder now, coming from directly behind her. Bonnie whipped around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She could see a long stone altar just at the other end of the room with something laying upon it. Inching closer, the voice called again. Almost as though she was in a trance, Bonnie moved closer and closer until she was standing directly over the altar to see what it was that laid upon it.
A corpse of a woman.
Squinting her eyes, Bonnie could make out the details of her face. It was geyed and wrinkled, as though the woman had been dead for a long time. The long hair appeared to be matted and knotted. Her dress was dirty and soiled, far older than anything Bonnie had seen before.
Bonnie reached out, pushing a stray hair from the woman’s face, but then fear crept down her spine; for a tight grip circled around her wrist, pulling her close. The corpse's eyes snapped open, showing a pair of crystal blue orbs that gazed at her, black veins growing underneath. The lips parted, a pair of sharp fangs descended, latching themselves onto her throat. Pain coursed through her body and despite knowing that no one could hear her, Bonnie screamed.
“Bonnie! Wake up. It's nothing but a nightmare. Wake up! ” The grip on her shoulders tightened, shaking her body awak. Her heart was pounding and she shot up in bed. The morning light shined through the bedroom window and the cotton sheets were soft on her skin. Her body was covered in sweat, almost as though she had run a marathon in her sleep. Sitting on the edge of her bed was her grandmother, Sheila Bennett, the woman who had raised her since her own mother left in the middle of the night. “What were you dreaming about, child?”
“Nothing. I think.” Bonnie squinted, trying to recall the dream. Trying to focus on what it was that had her screaming. All she could remember was the gaze of blue eyes and the pain tearing into her neck. “Vampires. I was dreaming about vampires.” That much she was certain of. Vampires were rare in Mystic Falls, none having stepped foot within the town's borders that she knew of in decades and Bonnie herself had only met a handful during her time at Whitmore. “I don’t know why but I’m certain I was dreaming about a vampire.”
“Vampire business. You know better than to involve yourself in that.” Sheila replied, narrowing her eyes at her granddaughter. It was a life lesson that her grandmother had preached since Bonnie had begun practicing magic under her tutelage. The dreams and visions all began shortly after Elena’s car accident. In the ten years since her friend’s death, Bonnie’s magic had grown and she was comfortable enough in her own skin but Sheila still viewed her as a student; forever learning. “It is all that time you’re spending with Professor Shane. The man brings trouble. I can sense it.”
“He is my advisor, Grams. He is helping me finish my graduate degree because the university won’t let you do it since I’m your granddaughter. I have to talk to him.” Bonnie countered, pulling herself from the bed, annoyed that they were once again heading down the direction of that argument. It also annoyed her that she could feel that her grandmother was correct. There was something strange and odd about Professor Shane but Bonnie was so focused on getting her degree that she did not dwell on it. Once she graduated next semester, she would never be forced to spend time with again.
“There is something wrong with him.” Sheila countered but said nothing else. She pursed her lips and stood from the bed, her silk robe tied tightly around her waist. Sheila Bennett was a powerful witch, one who taught Bonnie everything she knew and whose instincts had yet to be wrong. “He wants something. I don’t know what but it does not feel natural. Be careful and stay out of vampire business.”
Without another word, Sheila turned on her heels and left the bedroom. Bonnie loved her grandmother whole heartedly but it was times like these that she almost missed living in the dorms at Whitmore College. Yet, with the mountain of student loan debt closing in, she honestly could not turn down the free lodging. Equally, she did not have to hide the grimoires and herbs she used when she practiced magic. Telling your roommate who was a consevative christian that she was a witch was an experience Bonnie was not going into voluntarily.
With a quick look at the clock and an annoyed groan, Bonnie opened her dresser drawer and headed to the bathroom. She turned the water hot, letting it come to a steaming temperature. She had to be at Whitmore in a few hours to work on her thesis, finding a deserted library was far more suitable for her to write than any part of Mystic Falls. That and despite her grandmother’s warnings, Professor Shane did have several texts that aided Bonnie in drafting the rough draft of her paper.
Bonnie had only met a few vampires in her life, in passing and each and every one of them steered clear, claiming that mingling with witches was far too much trouble than what they were worth and never once had her path strayed across a werewolf that she knew of. Witchcraft came naturally to Bonnie, consuming her entire life and becoming a part of her that was as natural as breathing. While she did not know what use her degree would be useful for besides teaching, she knew that her life would be immersed in the supernatural world and in her studies she learned that magic linked all forms of mystical creatures.
Her thoughts strayed towards the work she needed to do as she stepped into the hot spray of the shower. She wondered if she could take one of Shane’s books home with her in order to work late into the night. While his over- eagerness to assist her in her thesis seemed rather off-putting, he was useful; allowing her to gain access that other students would only dream to be able to see.
Once her shower was over, and Bonnie stepped out into the foggy bathroom with a plush white towel wrapped around her, she noted just how cold the air seemed despite the steam that fogged up the mirror. Creasing her eyebrows quizzically, she reached out and whipped the mirror with her hand to reveal her reflection. When she caught sight of her dripping hair and clean appearance, she found that she was not alone. Just behind her, standing in the shower was the blonde woman from her dreams, wearing a bright smile that made her appear beautiful and light.
“Ayana.”
Bonnie whipped around, turning to see the empty shower; not a woman in sight. She blinked for a few moments, taking in the room and breathing slowly. Her heart was pounding and she raised her hand to rest over her chest. She continued to look at the shower, waiting to see if her mind would continue to play tricks on her or if she was not awake as she had thought she had been.
“It was the nightmare Bonnie. That is all.” Trying to shove the thought of the woman and her haunting whispers out of her mind, she readied for the day. Fall was upon them and the leaves had changed color, littering the ground as she walked to her car. Her soft leather boots crushed them beneath their soles. She gave her grandmother a gentle wave as she crawled into her car and began the two hour drive to Whitmore College. Even as she drove and turned the heat up, she could still feel the chill that had crept into her from the moment she stepped out of the shower.
For a moment she had wished that it was summer like it had been in her dream.
Once she reached the library, Bonnie hid herself in a back corner, tucking her earbuds into her ear and playing a soft comforting melody to distract her. Hours could pass in the darkened library and Bonnie had always found that she was home there. Cracking the spines of the leatherbound books and falling deep into their words almost seemed like time meant very little. Magic, from the moment Bonnie had learned she was a witch, had become beyond fascinating to her. Even the most boring of textbooks that did not hold much of the truth, she found, were at least worth the read; hours slipping through her fingers as she poured over their pages.
Magic, like most ancient concepts, predates most of modern history. The oldest of spells sought ways to make life easier with the conveniences we know today. Herbs and spells were used to make childbirth survivable, while simpler charms were cast in hopes of household chores to go more quickly. Yet, there were branches of magic that were far darker in nature. The thirst for immortality led the most powerful of witches to-
A hand touched her shoulder, causing Bonnie to jump and knock her textbook to the ground; nearly taking her laptop with her. Looking up, the curious and almost calculating eyes of Professor Shane were peering down at her. She quickly took out her ear buds and tossed them on the table as she tried to catch her breath.
“Sorry! I called out your name but you didn’t hear me.” He told her, trying to give her an apologetic smile as he leaned down to pick up the textbook and took the seat across from her. He peered at her word document, the cursor still blinking in the same spot as it had in the last three hours. “I figured I would find you here. How does the research fair? Touching on the topic of immortality yet?”
“Glossing over it honestly. Vampires hold little interest to me personally.” Ignoring his never-ending push to discuss vampires and avoiding death. She always felt as though she had a dance with the professor. She never knew just how much she could let on. She sensed no magic from him and Sheila always assured her that the rival professor was only an occult fanatic, but was nothing supernatural about himself but when he spoke, there were moments that Bonnie wondered if he knew more about her than she had ever really let on.
“Ah but immortality is most people's goal when it comes to magic, isn’t it?” He probed, the voice echoing as though she was sitting back in one of his lecture halls. “Some of the most interesting legends steam from witches seeking out immortality.” He reached over and picked up one of the textbooks again, causing Bonnie to wish that it was one of the manuscripts he kept under lock and key in his office. “There is a tale of a scorned witch, creating an immortality spell that would have let her and her lover, who betrayed her, to live forever. It was that spell that led to the precursor for the witch who created the vampire race. Hypothetically speaking of course. Vampires are not real, obviously.”
“Seriously? A witch hypothetically created vampires?.”
“Of course. The tales goes that a witch had her husband murder her children in order to turn them into the first vampires.” Bonnie sucked in a breath, that chill crept over her again and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she could see the wisps of long blond hair and the flowing of a white dress. “There are some disputes on how many children were killed and how old they were, or even what the name of the witch was. Some texts have the name Esther or Rebekah while others claim to be Ayana-”
“What did you say?”
“What?”
“That name. What did you say?”
“Esther?” Bonnie shook her head, fear creeping into her at full force as the whispers from her dream pressed against her ear again. Professor Shane was giving her a curious and all but worried look, taking in her frightened expression. “Ayana? What is it about-”
“I have to go.” Bonnie shot out of her seat and began packing up her belongings, shoving them into her bag. She closed her laptop without saving anything and ignored the probing questions Shane asked. Rushing away from the table without even putting on her coat, Bonnie had little idea of what or where she was going. The only thing she was certain of was that her nightmares were far more than just dreams.
Yet the last premonition she had involved her best friend’s car going off a bridge.
“Bonnie, Wait!” Shane reached out, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. There was a genuine look of concern on his face, almost as though he actually cared about her. While she knew that Shane had taken an interest in her, she did not know if it was her magic or her body he sought, but never once did she think he wanted her. “Are you okay?
“Fine. I’m fine. I just realized that I was late. Sorry.” Bonnie replied, turning away from him in hopes that it would settle his prodding but he fell into easy step with her, something Bonnie quickly found to be frustrating. If he did not have control over her grade and her graduate degree in the palm of his hand, Bonnie would have asked him to leave her be.
“There was a reason I sought you out. I have to be in Mystic Falls tonight to meet with the historical society. Something about being a judge in the upcoming Miss Mystic pageant this year but my car went into the shop unexpectedly. I know you live there and I was hoping you could give me a ride?” He looked almost sheepish in his request and Bonnie had to blink a few times, letting his words settle over her. She turned to look at the large oak doors of the library that led out into the afternoon sun. By the time she reached Mystic Falls, the sun would have gone down since the days had grown shorter and the idea of being alone sent an ill feeling down her spine. While Shane was not ideal company, he was better than being alone.
“Sure. My car is in the parking lot.” Bonnie barely heard his muttered thanks before she began walking towards the entrance. Shane prattled on about their previous topic as she pulled her car out of the parking lot and yet Bonnie found that she could not concentrate on the conversation. Vaguely she heard the names Silas and Amara but she said nothing as the drive went by, barely counting the hours between Whitmore and Mystic Falls. The only thing she could focus on was not crossing over the yellow lines. At least until something shocking seeped through. “Wait, what did you say?”
“My wife. Caitlin. She had been into the occult too. Practiced magic actually.” Bonnie’s head turned to him, the surprise clearly written on her face while there was a smirk on his face. It was obvious to Bonnie that he wanted to get some form of reaction from her, to gage her response at such a confession. “Yes, my wife was a witch before she died..”
“I don’t- Shit!!” Bonnie cried, weaving off the road as she saw a woman standing in the middle of the street, almost as though she was waiting for the car to collide with her. The car veered to the left, colliding with an iron fence just on the outskirts of the small town. Her head went forward, banging against the steering wheel but not hard enough to set off the air bags. “Did you see her?” Panic rose up in Bonnie’s chest, fearful that she had hit the woman with her car. Unbuckling her seatbelt and ran out of the car to check on the woman, but found nothing when she looked around. The street was completely deserted. Bonnie spun around, looking at every inch of the road, from the forest of trees on one side to the iron gate on the other. “You saw the woman right?!”
“Bonnie, I didn’t see anything-”
“Ayana.”
“Be quiet.” Bonnie hissed, her focus zeroing in on the iron bars that surrounded the oldest cemetery in Mystic Falls, the edges of the rest of her vision blurred out and became unimportant. She had always found it strange that for such a small town, there had always been an alarming amount of cemeteries. Almost as though the residences of the town had always had a morbidly high mortality rate.
Through the tombstones and setting sun, Bonnie saw her again. Only this time she knew it was more than simply her imagination. She was not naive enough to think that some form of magic was not involved. Whomever this woman was, she was not human but nor would she stop until Bonnie followed her, showing her what it was she beckoking her towards.
Without thinking, Bonnie walked towards the gate that opened to the cemetery. She heard Shane calling after her but paid him no mind, instead placing one foot infront of the other and reaching for lever on the gates handle. Her car was still running, rammed into the side of the gate, nearly knocking the small section of it over. When she pushed through the gate, Shane grabbed her arm, halting her.
“What are you doing? We need to call someone about your car!” Bonnie ignored him, pulling her arm out of his grip and walking further into the cemetery. Everything else fell into white noise, blocking out the sound of her car or Shane’s incessant voice. All she could focus on was following the woman. It was as though she was falling prey to some trance, where nothing else mattered except her. The pull was strong, unbreakable and settled into Bonnie’s mind in a way that she had never felt before.
If her thoughts were clear, she would have been terrified.
The woman remained out of reach, gliding into the distance but always looking over her shoulder as though to ensure Bonnie was following her. She passed the old and decrepabled graves, the wording having faded over time and mildew having grown over the stone. Mausoleums stood tall, holding the names of families that founded the town. Yet, Bonnie passed them without a glance. Further and further she went into the graveyard, the glow from her headlights dimmed the further she got from the front of the cemetery. She could vaguely hear Shane’s footsteps behind her, calling her name but the only thing that mattered was just how graceful the woman’s blonde locks flowed in the cold breeze.
After a long walk in the dark, the moonlight aiding their passage, Bonnie found that she was standing in the middle of the woods and the woman had vanished completely once more. Closing her eyes she could see rubble of stone and reminiscences of thatched roofs but when she opened them, there was nothing. The surrounding area matched her dreams and she knew that she had come to the right place; that this was where the woman wanted her to be. Yet, there was nothing to be found.
“Ayana.”
Bonnie looked at the leaf covered ground and felt the heat coming from it. She kneeled down and pressed her hand against the earth. Vervain bloomed at her touch as though the power of spring rolled through her. The purple flower seemed out of place with the autumn setting but it felt more like a sign that she was in the right place. What she sought laid beneath the earth’s surface. Curling her fingers into the dirt, Bonnie used the moon that hung above as an anchor; pushing every ounce of magic she had into the ground and followed the command that whispered in her ear.
“ Intermissum.” The ground rumbled beneath their feet, cracking around them until the ground caved in. Bonnie and Shane fell through the earth, landing in a long dark cavern below the surface. Landing with a hard thump, Bonnie blinked and pulled herself out of her trance. Realizing what she had done and that there was no way back to the top, having fallen several feet into the ground.
“I knew it! I knew you were a witch.” Shane called, looking at Bonnie with wide and triumphant eyes. She pushed herself off the ground and ignored Shane completely, knowing that he wanted to discuss the magic she had just done. She looked around to see nothing but darkness. She smelled nothing but musty earth and blood. Looking over her shoulder, she noted that Shane was holding his forearm. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, noting the lack of signal and held it up to him. She pushed the sleeve of his sweater up, noting that he was bleeding, yet he did not seem to care. “How long have you been practicing? I knew that Sheila was a witch but I’m not foolish enough to ask for her help and the spell I need requires a Bennett-”
“There is a tunnel. Look.” Bonnie replied, cutting him off, not caring for what he was going to say or what he wanted. Shining the light down the dark tunnel, Bonnie walked around Shane and headed further into the ground, once again ignoring the fact that her professor was calling after her. Visions of the dreams she had the previous night began surfacing, her instincts telling her to turn backwards but she ignored them. She walked down the dirt path until Shane pulled her back, hissing in pain from the slice on his arm.
“Have you lost your mind?! Whatever you think is down there is not friendly. I need you alive so lets turn back and-”
“And what? Go where?” Bonnie asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “What do you propose we do? Scream? No one is going to hear us.” The truth was obvious and Shane scowled, sayin nothing in response. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me and there is nothing I can do about it right now. However, something led me here and instead of sitting in the dark, listening to it call for me; I’m going to find it.”
Without another word, Bonnie pulled her arm out of his grasp and headed down the dark tunnel. Annoyance crept up her skin, her grandmother’s warning about Shane echoing back at her. Whatever it was that he wanted from her, could be dealt with once they found their way out of the ground. Despite his grumblings, Shane trailed behind her, following behind her, watching as the light from her phone illuminated the tunnel.
The tunnel grew smaller as they went and Bonnie could sense that no one had been down this far in a very long time. Not a hint of foot prints or even animal prints could be seen. The walls were man made but very old. Soon they turned from dirt to stone, white markings lined the walls. At first she thought there were old marks from knives or something but eventually they slowly began to tell a story that she could not read, old symbols from a language she did not know.
“I know these markings.” Shane muttered, pulling his own phone out to take a look at them. “I’ve seen them before. I mean, not these exactly but this art is familiar.” He squinted his eyes and moved past Bonnie, reading the markings on the wall, his weariness about being in the caves evaporated and excitement bled into his tone. “I was in Nova Scotia a few years ago, shortly after my wife died and stumbled onto a cavern. There was an ancient being buried beneath the surface and his tomb had markings like these.”
“You’re saying an ancient being is buried under Mystic Falls?” Bonnie asked, her tone disbelieving at the thought but then the whispers echoed down the tunnel. Shane did not appear disturbed, almost like he could not hear them. She looked down into the darkness, sensing that whomever had been calling out to her lingered there. “The woman in the middle of the road…”
“Bonnie, there was no one in the middle of the road.” Shane replied with confidence but never took his eyes off the markings. “I can’t be sure but I think the markings are referring to the Originals.” Bonnie tossed Shane a confused look, not fully understanding what he meant about the term originals. “Vampires. The very first vampires to ever exist. Like I said back in the library, vampires were the product of one dark spell.”
“You also said vampires were not real.”
“I lied, but you know that. Don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. You said that a witch murdered her children to turn them into vampires?” Bonnie shook her head, trying to push the name Ayana from her mind and the connection it had to what Shane had mentioned before. Whomever it was that laid buried at the end of the tunnel, was calling her by that name as though that is who they believed her to be. “Do you think it is one of her children? That she entombed her child here?”
“Maybe.” Shane cocked his head, looking at one of the drawings, studying it closely. The man before her now was the one she knew from her classes. The man who stood before a lecture hall of students, passion for the mythology of the occult so prevalent. “Come here.” Bonnie took a step forward. “See these markings here? They are names. They list the names of the six original vampires. Above them appear to be their parents, the witch who cast the spell and the man who slaughtered the children. I believe he also became a vampire if I were to guess.”
“Then who is buried here?”
“I can’t be sure, but I think I might have an idea.” Bonnie nodded, not mentioning her dream or whispers she had heard since she awoke that morning. “These two names here. They are connected similar to that of a family tree, just like the witch and her husband depicted above. I think this means one of the six were not one of their children but a spouse, a wife if I had to guess.”
“It's repeated. Her name, whatever it is, is repeated over and over here.” Bonnie reached out and traced the carving just as Shane had been doing before turning to look down the dark tunnel. The figure of the woman appeared to be standing in the shadows and Bonnie could see the kind smile playing on her lips. She brought her finger to her lips, telling her to be quiet. “The wife of an original vampire is buried here.”
“Oh no, she may have been someone's wife but I think she died alongside her husband, becoming just as much of a monster as he was.” The gentle expression on the woman’s face turned hostile and cold, sending a child through the darkness. “Why is she here though? The rumors of the originals are simply myths. If she is buried here, does that mean the rest are buried elsewhere? If not, then where are they?”
“Ayana.”
The woman appeared again, raising her hand and crooked her finger. She turned her back in order to walk further along the tunnel. The haze Bonnie had felt before begane to consume her again and with little control of her own, she followed. Vaguely she heard Shane follow her but she paid him no mind. All she could do was head further and further down the tunnel. The markings on the walls grew more elaborate; more beautiful as though it was a mournful love letter saying goodbye.
Soon enough, Bonnie found herself stepping into a wide open cave with the stone walls covered in faded symbols and artwork in the language that had been etched onto the walls of the tunnel. In the center of the room was a massive stone slab. Bonnie could feel the magic lingering in the room, the stone tomb sealed with mournful acceptance; keeping whomever was inside from rising. She blinked and without thinking, she placed her hand on the top of the stone.
“ Patenibus.”
The top of the stone coffin went flying across the cavern, shattering into a thousand little pieces, the fragility of age catching up with it. Bonnie looked into the tomb and found the woman from her visions. She was far less beautiful than the image that had been presented. Her skin was grey and lifeless. Her hair unwashed and matted. Her body remained still, appearing to be in a deep and unwakeable sleep.
“Holy shit.” Shane muttered, coming up behind her. He raised his arm slightly, casting the light from his phone upon the sleeping woman. “That is a vampire. Completely desiccated but a vampire.” He leaned forward and took in her appearance, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “There is no telling just how long she has been here. By the state of her dress and how old this tomb appears to be, I would have to say at least a few centuries.”
“What brought you here?” Bonnie whispered, a sadness that she knew was not her own consumed her. There was a connection to this woman but one that Bonnie could not explain. The magic that surrounded her felt familiar, similar to the magic that flowed around her when she practiced alongside her grandmother. “And where is the rest of your family?”
Shane said nothing, either having not heard her or was too enraptured by the corpse to pay her any mind. He moved his arm higher, casting the light in a different direction; the wound from their fall was still fresh and bleeding. Before Bonnie could move or say anything, one drop of Shane’s blood fell, touching the vampire’s lips, and then another. As though a spell with blood magic had been broken, the vampire’s eyes snapped open, showing a magnificent shade of blue.
The black veins from Bonnie’s nightmare grew under the woman’s eyes and the fangs protruded from her mouth. With enough strength that the vampire could muster, she reached up and pulled Shane down to her; his phone shattering on the ground as he dropped it. Bonnie stumbled backwards as the vampire launched onto Shane’s neck, savagely biting into him and draining him of every ounce of blood from his body.
All thought and magic fled Bonnie. The only thing she found that she was able to do was scream.