A rewrite of The Hunters: Destiny Rising. By LJ. SMITH.
LJ.SMITH created Klaus.
A stand alone monster.
No family.
No redeeming qualities.
"I'm one of the Old Ones! An Original! Do you know what that means? I've never died. Every one of you has di...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Stefan clenched his fists together, the bite of his nails against his palms helping to stave off the fog of misery that was enfolding him. Elena wasn't dead. He wouldn't believe that.
Full dark had fallen and firefighters had finally put out the blaze that had consumed the old stables. They were carefully working through the debris, dragging out body after body.
Outside the protective barriers, screened by a stand of trees, Stefan and the others waited. Lexie and Bonnie clung to each other, Bonnie in tears.
Andrés was seated, dazed and silent, on the ground, his eyes fixed on the slow movements of the firefighters.
Stefan remembered the look on Elena's face as the fiery wall had come down upon her. She had seemed so resigned, so peaceful as she looked back at him one last time, the flames she had put between them rising faster. The wall had fallen so fast....how could she possibly have escaped?
A hand landed on his shoulder and Stefan looked up to see Damon frowning past him at the remains of the stable. "She's not in there, you know," Damon said. "Elena's got the luck of the devil. She'd never get trapped in there."
Stefan leaned into his brother's hand, just a little. He was tired and grief stricken, and there was a comfort in Damon's familiarity.
"She died twice before her high-school graduation," He told Damon bitterly. "I don't know if I'd call that lucky. And both times, it was our fault."
Damon sighed. "She came back, though," He said gently. "Not everyone gets to do that. Hardly anyone, really." His lips twitched into a half smile. "Me, of course."
Stefan twisted away, his eyes burning. "Don't joke," He said in a furious, low mutter. "How can....even you....how can you joke about this now? Do you care at all?" But he shouldn't have been surprised. Damon had spent the last few weeks showing....violently, capriciously....how little he cared, for any of them.
Damon looked at him, his dark eyes steady. "I care," He said. "You know I do. Even when I don't want to. But I know she's not dead. If you don't trust Elena's luck, think of Klaus. It would take more than a fire to kill him."
