The Vampire Diaries: Bound By Blood (Kindle Worlds Novella) (6 page)

Dear Bloody Diary,

It’s easy to dismiss legends. It’s easy to dismiss the cryptic writing of witches. Except, of course, I have seen, firsthand, witches at work … and have seen firsthand the power of their spells—even ancient spells. Hell, there’s an old mansion in town in which some very dead witches have made it known I am not welcome.

So, I would be a fool to dismiss the grimoire as just legend.

Especially with the story of the devil wind at the Mystic Grill. And Stefan isn’t talking either. Which means he saw something. Something that he is, undoubtedly, looking into as well. The bastard.

Except, of course, I have the grimoire with the relevant information. Whether or not another such grimoire exists, I don’t know. If it did, I doubt Stefan will get his hands on it in time.

I’ve done some detective work of my own on the private dick. Max Long apparently had parents with a sick sense of humor. Other than the world’s most redundant name, the man seems fairly unremarkable. A quick call to Sheriff Forbes proved that. The sheriff, unknowingly, had been compelled to always provide me information whenever I ask, no questions asked. So, when I called when coming home and told her what I wanted, she brought me his name, including everything on his driver’s license, criminal history, and personal history.

No kids, no arrest record. Unremarkable career as a private dick. One interesting tidbit: Mr. Max Long had come in to see Sheriff Forbes a few days earlier about two deaths in the woods. Two deaths that, according to the sheriff, appeared to be vampire kills. Unofficially, of course. Officially, they would be listed as animal attacks.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Was he, in fact, looking for me?

Hunter and hunted. Except, of course, which was which?

Never a dull moment in the life of Damon Salvatore.

Until later.

D. Salvatore

Although Mystic Falls didn’t have any of those fancy coffee shops, we did have a little place called A Latte Coffee, and that’s where I was when Michael the Blogger appeared.

He was a short, bald man who reminded me a little of George Costanza. Unlike Costanza, Michael emanated pure calm and peace. He surveyed the quiet coffee shop, until he saw me seated in the back corner, which afforded me a nice view of the entire coffee shop. The handsome stranger who had come a-knocking had me a little rattled. Not to mention Michael’s own urgency playing on my nerves.

Hell, the last few days had done a number on my nerves.

“Max,” he said, coming over to me, although I had given no indication that he had found his guy.

“How did you know it was me?”

“A guy alone at a coffee shop, looking like he’d just seen a ghost?” Michael smiled and sat opposite me. “And who’s the detective here?”

I sat up. “How did you know I was a detective?”

“There are only three guys named Max who live in Mystic Falls. Two are retired. The last one appears to be the owner of Max Long Investigations. Thank you. You just confirmed my suspicions.”

I sighed and rubbed my face. Damn Internet. For a few bucks, anyone could grab any information on anyone. Shouldn’t have signed the email using my first name. Normally, I wouldn’t have. Normally I would have covered my tracks a little better. Then again, normally, I wouldn’t have created a windstorm in the local bar and grill.

Michael smiled warmly. “Don’t be hard on yourself. I’m a friend. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me how?”

Michael didn’t immediately answer. “Would you like a coffee? Two men sitting in a coffee shop on a late evening who aren’t drinking coffee, might arouse suspicion.”

“Who would be suspicious?” I said.

Instead of answering, he said, “Mocha?”

My head was spinning. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Mocha, it is,” he said, winking and left to place our orders. I watched him chat amicably with the young barista. She laughed. He laughed. He came back a moment later and sat across from me again. “Drinks will be ready in a minute.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone who knows a little something about what’s happening to you.”

“And what’s happening to me?”

“You’re in for some big changes, Max.”

I suddenly reached across the counter to grab his collar. My plan was to haul him across the table and force him to get to the point. Instead, my hand passed through him.

“Holy mother of God,” I said.

“Close, but not quite,” he quipped.

I recalled the article I had read earlier, the one about the Archangel Michael instructing the Elementals.

“This isn’t happening,” I said.

“Oh, but it is.”

“You’re the Archangel Michael… .”

“In the flesh, more or less. Now, let’s keep our voices down—Oh, look, our drinks are ready … I just love mocha lattes.”

Dear Bloody Diary,

As far as I know, no one else knows of the appearance of the Four Elements—or that, in all likelihood, the Four Elements is a dude. A private dick of all people. Or, perhaps, one of the elements is the private dick.

Wind.

I don’t know yet. Truth is, I have no idea what I am dealing with, or the players involved. But if something could potentially make me as powerful as the Originals, then I will look into it. With all my heart and soul.

So, do vampires even have souls? I think so, yes.

Souls forever trapped. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.

More, anon.

D. Salvatore

“You are working on a case,” said Michael.

“I’m a detective. That’s kind of what we do.”

Michael ignored my snarky response. “A murder case. Two bodies found in the woods.”

“Yes, how did you—never mind.” That an archangel could see more and know more than the average man was a given.

I’m dreaming
, I thought.
Or high. Or both.

“You’re not dreaming, Max. Or feeling the effects of legal or illegal drugs.”

“You read my thoughts.”

“Perhaps … or perhaps your thoughts were obvious. Plain as day. Written across your face, so to speak.”

“I’m seriously losing it here, man.” My coffee sat forgotten in front of me. “Please, please tell me what’s happening to me.”

“You have become Nature’s secret weapon, so to speak.”

“That sounds crazy.”

“I’ve heard crazier.”

I rubbed my face, eyed the mocha latte, and then downed half of it. “What exactly do you mean?”

“The natural world is greatly out of balance. You are here to restore balance.”

“By creating windstorms?”

“Oh, you can create much more than that, Max.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t, Max. It’s why I’m here.” Michael paused and held my gaze and looked deeper than I am certain anyone has ever looked within me. “I’m here to help you understand.”

“My head hurts.”

“It’s part of the process, Max. Your life is about to forever change. Or not. The choice is up to you.”

“You lost me … and either you get to it, or I’m going to check myself into the local mental ward and get on some very serious medication. Maybe even request a straitjacket … because I’m damn well certain I’m going crazy here.”

“You’ve always been melodramatic, Max. But that’s okay. I enjoy that about you.”

“Because you’re my guardian angel, and you know everything about me.”

“Not quite … but close.” He paused, considered what he was going to say, and then plunged forward. “Max, you are, and always have been, an Elemental.”

I had, of course, read about these. Before I got up and excused myself and headed for the closest bridge to jump, I decided to at least hear him out.

“Good choice, Max,” said Michael, winking, obviously reading my thoughts again. “But you are not just an Elemental, as there are many.”

“Of course,” I said. “They’re everywhere. I saw one just the other day outside of the courthouse, begging for food.”

“They are closer than you think, Max, but they exist just beyond your periphery. Or rather, just beyond your perception. I suspect you might just start seeing your brothers and sisters soon.”

“Brothers and sisters?”

“Figuratively.”

“Lord help me.”

“As I was saying, Max. You are not just another elemental … you are
the
Elemental.”

“I’m not following. Any of this. Literally. I feel like I’m drowning over here.”

“Relax, Max. Breathe. Good, good. Every so often Nature must right a wrong.”

“And I’m the wrong?”

“No, Max. You’re the right. You are, as I said, Nature’s tool. Or, more accurately, Nature’s assassin.”

“This isn’t happening.”

“But it is, Max. And I need you to stay in focus.”

“And I need you to get to the point.”

“Darkness walks the land, Max. Abominations. Those which are not natural.”

“I’m not following.”

“Vampires, Max. I’m talking about vampires.”

I would have said his words hung in the air, except that the Archangel Michael whispered them for my ears only. Not to mention, there was only one other couple sitting near the front. For all intents and purposes, we were alone in the coffee shop.

“You have got to be kidding—”

“Max, need I remind you that your hand passed through me just minutes ago? Need I remind you that you can conjure windstorms at will?”

“But vampires… .”

“They’ve been whispered about for centuries. This town has a history of animal attacks. Are vampires really so hard to believe?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he was right.

“So, vampires are … real?”

Michael looked at me long and hard. His bald head caught some of the halogen lighting above. His eyes were unlike anything I had ever seen. Simultaneously penetrating and analytical, they were also kind and filled with something close to love.

“Yes, Max. Vampires are real. And so are angels and Elementals, and other things that go bump in the night. But let’s take it slowly. No need to overwhelm you.”

I nodded. I concurred about the not-overwhelming-me part.

“So, I’m what,
Nature’s weapon
, as you called it?”

“Secret weapon for now. But soon enough, not so secret.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the vamps will know about you shortly, Max. And they will want to kill you. It’s why I’m here. To keep you alive … and to teach you how to fight back.”

I swallowed hard then downed the rest of my coffee, nearly burning my tongue in the process. “Why … why don’t you do it? Why me?”

“Good question, Max. It’s because I’m not part of Nature.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m beyond Nature, Max. Technically, I’m not of your world. But you are.”

“Why me? I mean, I’m no one. I’m not even a real cop. I follow cheating spouses all night, and that’s only if I can find work. Most of the time, I’m sleeping in my office, or playing solitaire.”

“Or drunk?”

“Sometimes, yes. So what?”

“I’m not judging you, Max. You needed an outlet for what you knew was coming.”

“Trust me, I had no clue this was coming.”

“Not on a conscious level, Max. However, your body was aware. You could say it was waiting.”

“For the meteor?”

“In your case, yes. The meteor’s passing was necessary to fully awaken your body. Or, more accurately, to fully activate it.”

“You sound crazy, you know that?”

“We’ve been over this before, Max. Would you like for me to continue? Or would you prefer to face the vampires on your own?”

I stared at Michael for a long moment. He stared back, his impenetrable eyes alternately shining with warmth and strength. “Please go on,” I said.

He nodded. “You were not chosen for this job, Max. You volunteered.”

“I think I would remember volunteering to be an Elemental who battles vampires.”

Michael smiled. “Your decision to be here, in this place, at this time, occurred before your birth.”

“I hate it when I do that.”

“Make no mistake, Max … you knew full well what you were getting yourself into.”

“Why would I volunteer for this?”

“Because you are stronger than you think, Max. Much stronger. Come, I think a short demonstration is in order.”

Dear Bloody Diary,

I spent this evening at the Mystic Grill, but there’s no sign of this elusive detective, either in his office or the apartment upstairs. I did detect a camera pointing at his office door, which opens out onto Washington Street. Had he been watching me? Did he know I was looking for him? Did I even care?

Actually, yes. I very much care. If there is even a chance … the slightest modicum of possibility, that I could be stronger than Klaus and his gang of Original pricks, then I am going to pursue it. The detective, so far, is my best lead. Which sounds ironic as I write this.

I’ve been doing more research, scouring our vast collection of ancient texts here at the boardinghouse … and have so far found only one mention of Elementals. They were likened as Earth spirits. More importantly, the book, which is here by my bedside, has indicated that Nature will use Elementals as it sees fit, to restore balance.

Yes, I’d already suspected this. Vampires are an abomination of nature, a cancerous, blood-sucking plague. Hell, Mother Earth has been doing her best to get rid of us for centuries.

Well, she can keep trying, because I have no intention of going anywhere … especially if I can get my hands on this detective.

I have ways of making him talk. Oh, yes.

D. Salvatore