CHAPTER THREE
❝THEIR SECRET PAST❞

"Thanks for coming, Ric," Stefan greeted, glancing down the long hallway at Alaric who had just stepped foot into the massive Boarding House. Damon standing next to the man as he closed the door behind him. Alaric's eyes were wide in amazement — doing his best to try and take in every detail of the infamous home.

Elektra locked eyes with Elena from across the living room; they were still giving each other the cold shoulder. Neither one willing to apologize to the other for their betrayals. She felt a familiar presence sudden sit down beside her, causing her to break her eye contact with Elena to look over. Stefan softly smiled at her, nodding his head in silent assurance.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Damon asked, following behind a confused Alaric as they walked into the living room. "Coffee? Bourbon? Bourbon in your coffee?"

Alaric shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. "Uh, Elena mentioned to me that you needed my help."

"Yeah," Stefan confirmed, watching as Alaric took a seat next to Elena on the couch across from him and Elektra. "We were, uh, hoping you could help shed some light on the Lockwood family.

Alaric arched a brow, glancing at all of them in a questioning manner. "Now why would I know anything about the Lockwoods?"

"Well, you wouldn't," Damon shrugged, taking a seat in the nearby chair. "But your dead-not-dead vampire wife might."

Elektra kept her eyes on Alaric, watching as his eyes sheepishly fell to the floor. She knew that Ric, more than anyone else — including herself, hated to talk about Isobel. And she couldn't blame him. Who would actually want to talk about the woman that left you and practically faked her death just to become a vampire? Who, also just so happens to be their "girlfriend's" nieces' mother. So many red flags.

"Isobel's research from when you guys were at Duke together," Elena spoke up, causing all eyes to fall on her.

"You said that she had spent years researching this town?" Stefan inquired.

Alaric licked his lips. "Isobel's research here in Mystic Falls rooted in folklore and legend. At the time, I thought most of which was—" Alaric hesitated to say the next word, "—fiction."

"Like that amazing vampire story?" Damon joked, the corner of his lips pulling up into a smirk.

"Okay, aside from vampires—" Elektra began, glancing between Stefan and Damon, "—what else? What other types of creatures did she research?"

Alaric looked around, seeming as though he was afraid to say the next thing. She could see why he was so cautious about revealing what Isobel studied. Knowing that it could possibly bring up unsettling thoughts and feelings about his late wife. And they didn't want that.

"Lycanthrope."

"Lycanthrope?" Elektra repeated, a certain amount of sarcasm in her tone. "Like werewolves? Full-moon-silver-hating werewolves? You've got to be kidding me."

"No way," Damon cut in, having agreed with Elektra's skepticism as he stood up from the chair, "Impossible — way too Lon Chaney."

"Is it?" Stefan pressed, glancing over at his older brother.

Damon narrowed his eyes at him. "I've been on this planet hundred-and-sixty some-odd years, never come across one."

"That doesn't mean they don't exist, Damon," Elena pointed out, leaning back into couch.

"If werewolves do exist, where the hell are they?"

"Why do you suspect the Lockwoods?" Alaric shot right back at Damon.

Damon sighed. "Because vervain didn't affect the mayor on Founder's Day, but the Gilbert device did. And if affected his son Tyler."

"And at the school carnival, his Uncle Mason exhibited inhuman behavior when he fought one of the carnival workers." Stefan said, giving further proof to his brother's suspicions. "It suggested some sort of a supernatural entity."

Alaric nodded, trying to let all of the information sink in.

"We were hoping that Isobel's research could help up figure out what it is." Elektra added, pressing her forearms against her thighs as she leaned forward.

"Well, all of her things are still at Duke," Alaric cleared his throat. "I mean, her office is still there. She's technically still missing."

"So can we get access to it?"

Alaric didn't answer.

"Ric," Damon said, sitting upright. "We need to know what we're dealing with. If this Wolfman thing is true, I've seen enough movies to know it's not good. It means Mason Lockwood is a real-life Lon Chaney. And that little Tyler punk may just very well be Lon Chaney, Jr. Which means Bela Lugosi, meaning me, is totally screwed."

✥ ✥ ✥

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Stefan asked, watching as Elektra crammed a bunch of random things into her bag.

Elektra looked up, meeting his bright green eyes. "Which part? Digging through my birth mother's lifework, or going to Duke with Damon and Elena?"

"Either," he replied, rubbing his hands together with his elbows propped up on his knees. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking over his shoulder at her, "Both."

"Well, I'm sure about the first part. But then again, Ric is a good buffer. So we can bond in our anti-Damon solidarity. And then we have Elena—who still isn't talking to me, or, am I not talking to her? Ehh, does it really matter at this point?" Elektra paused, seeing the frown on Stefan's face. "I wish you were coming, though."

Stefan sighed, jumping to his feet at the thought. "You know what, maybe we should wait a couple of days, huh?" He asked, making his way to stand beside the brunette. "Wait till, uh, Caroline's less of a danger, and then I can go with you."

Elektra ran her hands over her face, "It's okay that I'm going, right? Be honest, if it's not, I can stay here and let Elena go to Duke. And I can help you take care of Caroline."

"No, listen," he reached out and placed his hand on her bicep, "I want you to go. Okay? I do. You have questions about your lineage and about Katherine and Beatrice—look, I'm not gonna let the fact that Damon's going keep you from an opportunity to get some answers."

"You hate it, though."

"I hate it."

Elektra chuckled softly, pushing up on her toes to lightly press her lips against his.

After they broke apart, Elektra gathered her things and the two of them began to make their way toward the stairs. The brunette quickening her stride upon hearing Aunt Jenna calling up to her, asking if she was coming. As they made it down the stairs and into the foyer, Stefan patting Jenna's bicep in a casual goodbye, but Elektra noticed that something was off.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked her Aunt, examining the saddened expression on her face.

"Yeah," Jenna replied, waving it off. "Just men and their baggage, heh. Don't try to have too much fun with Damon and Elena."

"Believe me, I won't," Elektra stated before turning away from her Aunt and making her way out the door and to Alaric's SUV parked on the street just outside their house.

"Sorry you can't come too, Stef," Damon mocked, his arms crossed over his chest while Stefan took Elektra's bag on her arm and put it in the car.

"Call me if you need anything," Stefan said, seriousness in his tone as his eyes clashed against hers.

"Oh, I'll take really good care of her," Damon announced, smirking.

Elena scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Oh, Elektra thought. This trip is going to be great.

When they arrived at the Duke campus, where Isobel's office was located, Elektra had been more than eager to bolt out of the car in a desperate attempt to escape the tension. Sitting in a car with Damon and Elena had proved to be harder than she originally expected. She was texting Stefan the entire time while Elena inevitably brought up Damon killing Jeremy. She had to get out; opening the door and stepping out of the vehicle allowed the warm sun to shine on her skin. She closed her eyes and took a breath. Once she felt calmer, she opened her eyes and followed behind Alaric.

"So, Isobel was officially employed by the Anthropology Department, given that most paranormal phenomena is rooted in folklore." Alaric began to explain, walking through a set of double doors into a large building.

Elektra looked at the area around her. It was very spacious, but at the same time, cluttered. There was old-fashioned wooden paneling going about halfway up the walls, above the paneling, the walls were lined with tan wallpaper. There were many painting and drawing hanging around the room with antique fixtures and furniture.

At the back of the room there was an office. There was a woman standing in front of a wall of filing cabinets, rummaging through one of them. From what Elektra could tell, she was fairly pretty. She had light brown hair and green eyes. She looked to be in her early twenties, definitely still attending college.

"Excuse me," Alaric called out. "Hi, I'm Alaric Saltzman. I called earlier," he continued walking into the open office, making the girl look away from the cabinet and up at them.

"Yes," she said with a smile, pushing the filing drawer shut before holding her hand out for Alaric to shake. "Uh, of course. I'm Vanessa Monroe, research assistant. Comparative folklore," she looked over to Damon, Elena, and Elektra and stared for a moment too long until she snapped herself out of it. "Oh, let me just grab Isobel's keys."

"I'm sorry," Alaric interjected. "These are my friends Elena, Elektra, and Damon. I hope this isn't too much of an imposition."

"Please," Vanessa nodded toward a room, "Isobel's office is right through there." She continued, grabbing a set of keys out of her desk drawer. "Isobel was one of my first professors. I'm a grad student. She was brilliant. And one of the reasons I went into folklore."

Alaric smiled softly at Vanessa's words.

"I have to ask, um—" Vanessa said, uncomfortable, "—has there been any news?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"It's right this way," Vanessa said, not bothering to comment on the subject anymore seeing as though Alaric was beginning to look very disturbed. She kept her head low as she led them to Isobel's office, the keys in her hand.

When Vanessa opened the door and showed them inside, Elektra instantly noticed that no one had used the office in quite some time. Who could blame them. Dust covered the wooden tables and books that hadn't been put back on the selves. There were a few rolling ladders leaning on the bookshelves to assist shorter people get books that were on the top shelf.

It was Elektra and Elena's mother's life work.

All of it was sitting right in front of them.

"I'll grab the light, feel free to look around. It's fascinating, isn't it?" Vanessa announced to all of them with a small smile before disappearing.

"Mm-hmm," Damon hummed out, picking up a skull left out on one of the tables and examining it.

Elektra shook her head at him, biting her tongue as she made her way to stand next to Elena. She was beginning to look through one of the bookshelves. "Interesting, huh?"

Elena nodded, but didn't bother to turn around, "Yeah."

"Where'd she go?" Damon asked, talking about Vanessa, glancing over his shoulder for a second before turning his attention back to the small skull in his hands.

Elektra's brows furrowed, wondering the same thing. When she turned around she saw that Vanessa had finally returned, a menacing looking crossbow in her hands. She had a determined look on her face as she leveled the weapon, pointing it at Elena's back.

"Elena, get down!" Elektra shouted before placing her hands on Elena's shoulders and pushed her to the floor.

Vanessa narrowed her eyes at Elektra, moving her body so that the crossbow was pointed at her. And she pulled the trigger. The whooshing sound the arrow made, caused Elektra's stomach to twist in horror. She stared wide eyes as the sharpened object whirled through the air; biting her tongue, she awaited the coming flash of agony that would burn through her veins as the arrow penetrated through her tissues. But, just as it was about to find its home in her chest, Damon flew in front of her.

His face contorted in pain as the arrow made a sickening thud when it landed swiftly in his back. His entire body tensed, putting his right hand on the bookshelf behind her for support. She could feel his labored breaths on her face just before his strength gave out and he fell to the floor.

Elektra's heart pounded in her chest, looking over to see that Vanessa was being slammed and pinned against the wall by Alaric. Her breathing was uneven as she glanced to the ground and saw that Elena was still sitting on the ground with a shock and confused look on her face.

The sound of Damon groaning in pain had been enough to snap her back into what had just happened. Her heart lurched when she saw him writhing in pain on the ground and without a second thought, she dropped to her knees next to Damon. And without even meaning to, she began to think about the time she had flipped her car after hitting the vampire in the middle of the road and how Damon had come to save her.

It had taken a good five minutes before they were able to pull Damon to his feet. The arrow still protruding out from in between his shoulders. Alaric had ushered Vanessa out of the room, leaving Elena and Elektra to deal with the injured Damon.

"Pull it out," Damon said as Elektra hesitated. "Ah, I can't reach it, Elektra. Just pull the damn thing out—it hurts."

She stared at the arrow, grimacing and flinching back every time she touched. She gulped, knowing that she had no other choice, gripped the trunk of the arrow and gave it a hard and forceful yank. Damon hissed through his teeth at the mouth, watching as Elektra merely dropped the arrow on the table.

Damon rolled his shoulders back, "Oh, that bitch is dead."

"Uh, you're not going to kill her," Elena said sternly, holding her ground as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Damon looked over to her and grinned. "Watch me."

"Damon," Elektra called out, giving him a serious look. "Don't."

"Ugh," he groaned out. "Do you not realize that she tried to kill the two of you? Elena, if Elektra hadn't pushed up away, then you would be dead. And Elektra, if I hadn't taken that arrow in the back for you, then you would be dead. See? Isn't that enough for me to kill her?"

"You touch her and I swear that I'll never speak to you again," Elena threatened.

"What makes you think that has any power over me?" Elena didn't reply. "Because I kissed you and I took an arrow in the back for your sister? You are severely overestimating yourself."

"Right," Elena exclaimed with a hardened glare. "I forgot that Elektra and I were speaking to a psychotic mind who snaps and kills people impulsively. Fine, go ahead, do whatever you want."

Damon glanced between the sisters, "You're trying to manipulate me."

"If by manipulate you mean tell the truth, okay, guilty." Elektra piped up, moving to stand next to Elena. If there was anything in the world that could get them to be on the same side, it was fighting with Damon. And it worked.

"Okay," Elena muttered after a long moment of silence before she stormed out of the room and into Vanessa's office.

Elektra watched as her sister disappeared through the doorway, waiting until she was completely out of earshot before she turned to look at Damon once more. "Damon, are you okay?"

His hardened expression softened at the sound of her gentle words, "Yeah, Elektra, I'm fine."

She smiled, reaching out to place her hand on his bicep before saying: "Thank you."

"This—" Vanessa began, grabbing a large cardboard box off a shelf, "—box tracks Katherine and Beatrice's arrival to Mystic Falls in April of 1864."

Elektra cleared her throat, staring at the single box as she set it down in front of her and Elena. "Is that all there is about them? I mean, no offense or anything, but Isobel seemed a bit more obsessed with them than this."

"All that I'm aware of."

The twins began to dig through the box, feeling the old and dry leather rub against their hands. But as Elektra made her way to the bottom of the box, she felt something much more corse and organic brush against her fingers. Wrapping her fingers around it, she pulled it out to see she had grabbed a dried up flower of vervain.

"Here," she said, holding it out to Vanessa, "take this."

Vanessa looked at the flower, smiling at it with question. "Does vervain really work?"

Elektra nodded.

"Nope, not at all," Damon's voice called from the other room.

"Can he hear us?" Vanessa whispered, leaning in closer to Elektra and Elena.

Elena nodded that time.

"No," Damon harshly whispered, "that would be creepy."

"Can he read minds too?"

"You know, if you wanted to see me naked, all you have to do is ask."

Elektra glared at him as he turned around to face them, "No, that he can't do. He is very capable of being a first-rate jackass, though."

She pulled a pack of papers out of the box and slammed them on the desk. She grabbed a few of them and began to skim through them, as did Elena. They were searching for the names: Katherine Pierce and Beatrice Pierce. Elena looked for Katherine and Elektra for Beatrice. They knew that they would waste time if they searched for the same name.

"Any luck?" A low and husky whisper came from over her shoulder. She could feel his chest pressing against her shoulder, looking down at the papers in her hands.

Elektra didn't even need to glance back to know who it was, "There's nothing in here about Beatrice and Katherine that we don't already know."

Damon hissed in disappointment, "Oh, man. You know, it's a bummer that none of us are friends anymore, because I could tell you what I know."

"Now who's manipulating who?" Elektra asked, slowly turning around to face him.

"Hey, guys,"Alaric called out, causing them to turn away from each other and look toward him. He was sitting in a cushioned chair with an open book in his lap, "Check this out."

He handed Vanessa the book and she began to read it silently. The others walked closer to them, wanting to know what Alaric had found.

"There's no record of werewolf mythology in Mystic Falls. But, here are some records of some of the lesser known legends. Everything from, uh, Scandinavian Skin-Walkers to the Marèchal de Retz. "Tu de Citli Mesli" which roughly translates into "The Curse of the Sun and the Moon.""

"It's Native American."

"Aztec," Vanessa corrected. "It explains one origin of the werewolf curse traced through Virginia. The short story: six hundred years ago, the Aztecs were plagued by werewolves and vampires. They terrorized the countryside, made farming and hunting impossible. Until, an Aztec Sharman cursed them. Making vampires slaves to the sun and werewolves servants of the moon. As a result, vampires could only prowl at night and werewolves could only turn on a full moon. When the full moon crests in the sky, who's ever unlucky enough to fall under the werewolf curse turns into a wolf."

"Can they control the transformation?"

"If it were a choice, it wouldn't be called a curse." Vanessa pointed out. "Werewolves will attack humans. But instinct and centuries of rivalry, have hardwired them to hunter their prey of choice: vampires."

Damon's interest was peaked at that, "Well, if werewolves were hunting vampires, I would know about it."

"Not if there aren't that many werewolves left alive. Hundreds of years ago, vampires hunted them to almost extinction."

"Why would they do that?" Elektra asked.

"To protect themselves," Vanessa announced. "Legend has it that a werewolf bite is fatal to vampires."

After the information-filled lesson about werewolves, Elektra had called Stefan and filled him in on what they had learned. Making sure that him and Caroline were being careful, knowing that a werewolf bite could possibly kill a vampire. She just needed them to be safe. Once she had gotten off the phone with Stefan, she made her way back inside Isobel's office and continued her search.

And that was when she stumbled upon a picture.

A picture of Beatrice. She was staring at her—and she just couldn't believe that there were two other people out there that looked exactly like her and Elena. "Hey," she called out, causing Vanessa to look up from the book she was reading. "Have you done any research on doppelgängers?"

Elena and Damon looked toward her from the other side of the room, sending her a look asking what she was doing.

"Well, the word means a lot of different things to different cultures. But typically, a doppelgänger is a living, breathing double of oneself."

"Did Isobel have anything that'd explain the link between us and Katherine and Beatrice?"

"That—" she pointed to the box in front of her, "—is all she had on them, unfortunately."

Elektra ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.

"But, I can tell you that doppelgängers usually torment the people they look like, trying to undo their lives. It's not exactly uplifting."

"And more things we already know," Elena said from behind her sister. "Ugh, I just want to know why we look like them."

Elektra turned to face her, "Yeah, Elena, brilliant detective work because that wasn't just the question I was literally just asking Vanessa."

Damon sighed, intervening before a fight broke out between the sisters. "Head-scratcher, isn't it?"

"Do you know something, or are you just being yourself?"

"Well, if I know anything, I'm not gonna tell you. Not with that attitude."

Elektra nodded, "That's good, Damon. And this is coming from someone who wants to be our friend. But you know what? Friends don't manipulate friends. They help each other."

A few hours later, they had said their goodbyes to Vanessa and Elektra began to make her way toward Alaric's car. She was beyond annoyed with Damon and Elena. The three of them had done nothing but argue the entire day. She was sick and tired of it.

She wrapped her hand around the car's door handle, yanking on it but to no avail. It was locked. Just was she needed. Fighting off another groan of annoyance, she heard footsteps from behind her.

"Here, allow me." Damon began, coming into view and unlocking the car with the keypad. He opened the door for her and right when she was about to step inside, he stepped in her way—blocking her path. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not going to be able to hate me forever."

She rolled her eyes, "Can we just go?"

"You didn't dig deep enough," Damon said, completely ignoring what she had just said. He pulled out a thick, leather bound book out from beneath his jacket. She took it in her hands and stared at it, the name Petrova engraved on the spine.

"Petrova," Elektra said, staring at the gold lettering. "I saw this on the shelf."

"Katherine and Beatrice originally came from Europe. Petrova was their real name. Katerina and Beathia Petrova, to be exact."

"How did you know that?"

Damon stared at her, "Way back when, I saw it engraved on an old family heirloom. Men stoop too, you know." He pointed out with a small smile. "But let me know what you find, I'm very curious myself." She nodded and made a move to get in the car, but he stopped her. "You have every right to hate me. I understand. You hated me before and we became friends. It would suck if that was gone forever. So, is it? Have I lost you forever?"

"Thank you for the book, Damon."

✥ ✥ ✥

"Road trips work well for us," Damon announced, following behind Elektra and Elena as they made their way to the front door of their home.

"This doesn't mean things are back to the way they used to be, Damon," Elektra replied, feeling Elena shoulder past her and storm into the house right before she slammed it shut. She sighed, staring at the door for a moment.

"Oh, come on," he said, making his way to stand beside her. "You know I chipped a little bit off of you wall of hatred."

Elektra scoffed, turning to face him. "I need to know the truth. When you broke Jeremy's neck...did you know that he was wearing the ring?"

Damon's face fell in defeat, his arms limply hanging by his sides. "No—no, I didn't. Katherine really pissed me off, and I snapped, and...I got lucky with the ring. I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't wearing it. Elektra, I'm sorry."

She gulped through the ball in her throat. "Thank you for being honest with me. And the answer to your question about our friendship...is yes. You have lost me forever."

His crystal eyes searched her face, "But you knew that already, didn't you? You used me today."

"You had information about Katherine and Beatrice I needed to know."

"I thought friends don't manipulate friends."

There was a long moment of silence.

Deafening silence.

"You and Beatrice have a lot more in common than just your looks."

✥ ✥ ✥

not edited.