I stroll through the front door, a dreamy smile still plastered on my face. Tonight was better than I could have ever imagined. We danced, together as a group, for hours. God, can those Salvatores dance! I suppose that's what happens when you have had decades to practice.

  A giggle escapes me as I think about how it felt to be twirled around the dance floor. How it felt to be in Damon's strong hands, how my body reacted to his every touch. Makes my heart quiver even at just the memory. I could have danced all night with him if I had the chance, but it ended all too quickly.

  To think, I was actually dreading the dance and now it kills me for it to be over. With Damon as a dance partner however, who could blame me? I even caught a few glances of jealousy from onlookers who's dates did little more than sway to the beat.

  Damon didn't seem to notice however, too hypnotized but our dance. The way he was looking at me, like he couldn't take his eyes off me. I've never before felt so defenseless, like he could see right through me. As if he was devouring everything I had. Oddly enough, its wasn't a bad feeling. It made me feel, dare I say, desirable.

  Even Zeke noticed, if his incessant elbow jabs and eyebrow wiggles were to mean anything. Then again, with him that could have just been dancing.

  The only thing that could have made tonight better was if we had been alone when Damon dropped me off. The entire ride home I was antsy, unsure what to expect. He was so sweet, even getting out to walk me to my door. I swear I was going to trip over my own two feet no matter how hard I tried to walk casually.

  My mind was going crazy with different possibilities. All my nervousness was for nothing however. As soon as we made it to the porch whatever might have happened was quickly squelched by the flicking on of the porch light.

  As if Dad was watching for us he opened the door, grinning innocently at the two of us as he stepped out onto the porch. For a split second I panicked that Dad would recognize Damon from their previous meeting, but it seems that he has no memory of that night. Thank God, that could have been awful.

  Not that it was any less awkward really, Dad standing arm outstretched for a handshake. Damon, subtly dropping his arm from around my waist and taking a step to the side. Not that Dad missed it, but at least he was kind enough not to embarrass me by pointing it out.

  After I made introductions Dad stood there smiling expectantly, while I just awkwardly stood there frozen. Damon finally broke the silence by wishing us a good night. His eyes lingered on me for just a moment before he turned and made his way to his car. My heart fell just a bit as I watched him go. How have I grown so attached to him so quickly?

  Dad pulled me into a side hug and grinned down at me as I watched Damon drive away. I was prepared to be teased or scolded or well something... but no. Dad only kissed the top of my head and told me I looked beautiful. For the millionth time that night I blushed, never getting used to all the compliments.

  After wishing me a good night he turned and entered the house. I was speechless! I would have guessed he would have something to say about Damon. Aren't Dad's always supposed to disapprove of their daughters boyfriends or something? Well not that Damon is my boyfriend...

-------------------Damon's POV-------------------

  My hands tighten on the steering wheal as I speed away, paying little attention to the road before me. My mind is stuck on her, as it is so often is these days. A growl escapes my throat as I recall her movements against me. She was so soft in my hands, I wanted nothing more than to take her right there. To kiss her, to taste her.

  I cringe as my fangs become sharper just thinking about her, and yet no matter how I try to suppress my desires, her image dances just at the edge of my consciousness. Her beautiful long neck exposed to me while she was pressed against my chest. I couldn't stop myself, she just smelled so wonderful I had to nuzzle her hair. To fill myself with her.

  She was absolutely mesmerizing. Her dress hugging her every curve deliciously, making it nearly impossible to keep my hands off her. Her hips, swaying in an intoxicating rhythm. Her smile, oh how she laughed while I spun her around, lifting me up to new heights. I would have kept her on that dance floor all night, all eternity, if I had the chance.

  She looked so happy tonight, so free, for the first time really letting herself fly. It always seems as if she is trying to hide away from the world, from who she is. She shined through her defenses tonight though, showing how strong, how stunning, she really is. It shows in the way she stands up for strangers, even when they will never know. The way she is always looking out for her friend, even when they all believe they are looking out for her. The way she smirked at me, that twinkle of mischievousness that she too rarely lets out, as she teases me. Most of all, how she isn't afraid of me like so many others.

  It is so much deeper than all that though, so much that I can't explain. The way she would shy away from everyone, and yet lean into me for comfort. The way her eyes brighten, almost imperceptible if not paying attention, when I smile at her. How her breath catches when I manage to take her by surprise. Even how her heart dances at the softest of my touches, making me want to tease her skin every chance I get. Not to mention the way she bites that delectable lip of hers when she is nervous, enticing me closer with every nibble.

  I tighten my grip even more as I focus on holding myself together. Something about this girl just makes me unravel. Contrary to Stefan's beliefs, I normally am in full control. With her however, it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to just ravish her.

  It makes no sense. I've seen a pretty lady before, dozens in fact, and none have had this effect on me. None have taken a hold of my mind and held it hostage in such a manner. And her scent, I close my eyes a moment enjoying her lingering aroma, it's enough to drive a man over the edge. Well, at least it is so for me. For whatever reason Stefan doesn't seem to notice.

  Lately it seems there is a lot that Stefan is missing, Elena too for that matter. They both think that it is time to leave this town, but I know there is something here. I feel it, why can't they? There is this buzzing in the air, like a storm that is just waiting to let loose. They are in such a rush to try to find this cryptic evil to end all that they are blinded to what is right in front of them.

  You would think with that hero complex of theirs they would want to try and figure out what is going on here. The just look at me as if I have completely lost it when I try to discus it with them, they just can't see. They are too hung up on this message that makes no sense, not that they listen to me when I say so. Some old bat wants to send them on some wild goose chase that's fine, but I am done.

  I clench my jaw as a new rush of emotions crashes through me. A sudden certainty that I am right, and that danger is right around the corner. Nereza is not some damsel in distress as Stefan likes to look at her, but still I won't abandon her. Something is brewing in this town, and I won't just leave her in the middle of it.

-------------------Nereza's POV-------------------

  I sigh, still daydreaming about dancing as I twirl into the living room. My feet hurt, and I am dying to get out of these heels, but I don't let that ruin my mood. I hum a little tune to myself, sounding suspiciously similar to the first song we danced to, and throw myself onto the couch. I sprawl out and giggle at how silly and light headed I feel. It's like nothing could touch me in this moment. Reminding myself to stay quiet, so as not to disturb dad, I sit up and unstrap my heels.

  I'm about to go get changed into my pajamas for bed when Mom's trunk catches my attention. Hesitating, the nights events momentarily forgotten, I reach out and run my hands over the smooth cover. Should I go through this now? It's been such a wonderful night, should I just wait and go through everything tomorrow? Then again I'm not really tired, still too wired from everything to sleep yet.

  So why not?

  Settling back into the couch I pull the trunk towards me. I glance around, an unshakable feeling putting me suddenly at unease. A pit in my stomach that makes me hesitate, my hand resting just on top of the lid. Why am I suddenly so nervous? I have been wanting to know about her for so long, and this is my chance! With a deep breath I push the lid open and peer at the secrets that it holds.

  A pang of disappointment shoots through me. I don't know what I was expecting, but I know I was expecting more. How could mom have so little? The trunk is mostly empty, a few photographs scattered across the meager contents. Gingerly I collect them into a neat pile, my hands trembling as I hold her precious memories.

  In each one she is smiling, her eyes shining beautifully at the person behind the lens. I wonder if Dad took these? I bet he did. She beams at the person behind the camera, so obviously in love. As I flip through the pictures I find myself even more drawn to her, needing to know all I can about her life. I come across a picture of Dad holding her in a tight embrace, smiling down at mom as if he doesn't even know someone is taking their picture.

  I stare at the photo, surprised at the man I see there. I could never have imagined him looking so completely happy. This must be at their wedding. Mom is in her simple white dress, the bouquet forgotten on the ground, instead she clings to my dads arms, pulling him closer to her. Staring at the two of them, so totally in love, I can't help but wonder how our life could have been if she had only lived. Tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill over as I get lost in what ifs.

  Blinking rapidly, I fight the tears away as I shake my head at how ridiculous I am being. There is no what ifs, only what is, so no point in dwelling. I tuck the photo of my parents in the back of the pile, no longer able to look at it. Instead, I gaze at the last picture the trunk has to offer.

  It is of a small older woman, grasping onto my parents hands with both of hers. She looks frail, her thin body wrapped in worn ragged clothing. Her gray hair a frizzy mess poking out from under her straw summer hat. She beams at the camera, her head up proudly as she embraces my parents. T

  his must be my grandma, the one who helped them get married. She looks so kind, so hopeful for my parents. My tears return in full force as I wonder what became of her. Is she still alive? Would it be possible to ever meet her one day?

  What of my other grandma? I know she disapproved of my dad, but does that mean she would hate me? Does she even know I exist? I wonder what dad would say if I tried to reach out to my extended family. I just have so many questions, and such a desperate need to connect.

  Putting the pictures to the side for now I take another look into the trunk. There is a handful of candles that have been used a time or two, evidence of the dripping wax still clinging to their long sides. Beside the candles, wrapped in a thin white linen, is a bundle of dried herbs that I couldn't possibly identify. They crinkle at my touch, threatening to crumble to dust, as I carefully lift them from the trunk and examine them. The subtle scent of lavender tickles my nose as I gently re-wrap the bundle.

  Finally, at the bottom of the trunk is dark gray knit blanket. I reach in, oddly nervous, and run my hand across the soft material. I wonder if she made this? I bet I could learn to knit if I tried, I wish I could make something this beautiful. My eyes travel along the pattern of never-ending interlocking swirls. I wonder if dad would let me use it? I bet it super warm and cozy.

  Lifting it into my arms a grunt escapes me as I am taken aback by its weight. It's really heavy! Yarn shouldn't be this heavy, should it? Pulling it to me I realize there is a hard lump in the center of the blanket. Is there something wrapped in here? Pulling it into my lap I carefully unfold the blanket, uncovering the secret within.

  To my surprise it's not some super valuable treasure, but only a book. Setting it to the side for a moment I wrap the large blanket around me, smiling as I am engulfed in its warmth. Pulling it tight around me I let out a sigh as the lingering scent of lavender wafts over me. This has to be how Mom smelled.

  After allowing myself a moment to get lost in the comfort of my mothers blanket, I pull my attention back to the mysterious book. It's not fragile, so why would it be wrapped up? Unless its something she wanted to keep hidden. It doesn't really look particularly special. Just a plain leather journal with a cord wrapped around it to keep it shut. I run my hands along the soft leather wondering what secrets could be written within.

  Maybe it's her diary or something? My heart quickens at the thought. How better to get to know her than through her own thoughts! I jump to open it, but pull up short a moment. Would it be bad to look? Is it invading her privacy? I eye the journal, desperate for what it may hold. I can't hold back, I just need to know her!

  I feel my anxiousness rising as I eagerly unwind the cord. My fingers tremble, my eagerness to see what could be scrawled on these pages quickly overtaking me. As I open the cover, my heart sinks and I feel myself crash.

  Nothing, the journal is empty. Why would Mom keep an empty journal? The paper crinkles at my touch as I flip to the next page, and then the next. With each page my sense of urgency grows. Clinging to the last glimpses of hope I frantically flip through the pages looking for something. For anything!

  "Ouch!" I cry out, pulling my hand away from the sheet that bit me.

  I groan in annoyance, did I seriously give myself a paper cut? Wow, could I be any more of a spaz! I let my head fall back onto the couch and groan once more in frustration. It shouldn't be such a big deal, but I had gotten my self so worked up that now I just feel stupid.

  Today was a good day I remind myself. I had an amazing night out with friends, and I was able to learn a bit more about my family. Who cares if the journal is empty, its not like I am any worse off right?

  I am interrupted from my thoughts by a sudden pulse shooting through my mind. My heart skips a beat and I have a sudden urge to grab hold of the couch in fear I might tumble off of it. My head spins, or maybe it's the world around me that's spinning. Ugh, I feel like I'm going to be sick.

  I take a deep breath as I try to figure out what is going on. I know I got myself worked up, could this all be over a little disappointment? I mentally scold myself as I slowly lift my head from the couch, forcing myself to get back to what I was doing. My still stinging finger demanded attention, and then I should pack everything back up.

  My eyes widen as I realize that my paper cut is a lot worse than I first realized. To my surprise it is actually bleeding a lot! How could I not feel that? A shocking red line runs from my finger, down my hand, and is dripping on the pages of Mom's journal, staining them!

"Shit! Dad is going to kill me!" I mumble as I stare at the droplets in panic.

  Sticking my finger in my mouth to try to stop the flow, I can't suppress a shudder as the bitter blood touches my tongue. Another pulse strikes threw me, throwing me off balance. I cling to the couch as I struggle to compose myself and catch my breath. Am I having a panic attack? I go to move, to try and clean up, but my body feels heavy and refuses to cooperate. The world begins to spin once more and I feel myself collapse back into the couch.

  Without further warning everything fades to black.