Find Me

Chapter Two

Persia stepped onto the porch and unlocked her front door when she heard a throat clear behind her. She turned and gasped, pressing her back against the door.

"That's a very pretty ring you're wearing. Where did you get it?" Persia stared at him for a moment, confused.

"Do you always just appear out of nowhere," she asked him, still a little frightened.

"Usually. I asked about your ring; where did you get it?"

"It's a family heirloom," she said, wishing he'd just walk away. "It's been in my family for hundreds of years." Just like in her dream the other night, she could feel danger flow from him like a dam had burst.

"I would very much like it if you'd give it to me," he said. Ordinarily, he'd compel his victims to do what he wanted, but he couldn't seem to convince himself to do it to her. Persia snorted.

"And I'd very much like to go back to Colorado, but since I can't have my way, I'm not inclined to give you yours," she said coldly. She turned the door knob and opened the door, retreating through it.

"I get exactly what I want, one way or another. You'll see me again, Persia Gray," he said, then backed off her porch before she'd shut the door. His words left a chill on her skin and she found herself rubbing her arms on the other side of the door. She stood there for several minutes before she moved toward the kitchen to make a cup of tea. There was a knock at the door just as Persia picked up her cup from the counter. Hoping it wasn't that creepy guy again, she opened the door.

Persia wasn't sure exactly what happened, but she found herself out on the porch, screaming, while a man bit into her neck. His arms were like iron bands, holding her to him while she tried to struggle. Little by little, second by second, the lights were growing dimmer and sounds seemed far away. She grew colder and less able to fight back against her attacker.

He's drinking my blood! her thoughts screamed to her, but within seconds, she was no longer able to do anything about it. Her eyes closed as she went limp in her attacker's arms.

Her eyes fluttered and she found herself staring into a pair of concerned eyes and holding someone's wrist against her lips. Realizing that the warmth that filled her mouth was the blood of the guy kneeling over her, she gave a startled cry and jumped up away from him, running for her open door and slamming it shut. Persia ran to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and pressing it to her neck where she'd been attacked, but when she pulled it away, the towel was clean. She looked in the mirror and found that the mark was gone; her skin was smooth and unbroken! There was a loud knock on her door and she cowered.

"Persia! Are you okay? It's me, Elena." Persia slowly went to open the door for her.

"Oh my God, Persia- are you okay? Can I come in?" Persia just stood there for a moment, feeling her tee shirt sticking to her body where blood had poured from her neck.

"Persia, I can't help you if you don't let me come in." She looked up at Elena, feeling lost and almost hysterical. On some level, the words Elena was saying registered in her mind as red flags, but she was still too foggy to accept them.

"Yes," she finally said in a whisper, "come in." Elena stepped over the threshold and stepped right up to Persia, who'd begun to shake.

"I- I- I don't understand what just happened," she stammered and burst into tears. Elena put her arms around her and comforted her for a few moments before ushering her over to the couch.

"I think there are a few things about Mystic Falls that we should explain to you now that you've survived an attack. Can Stefan come in?" Persia looked toward the door and saw a guy standing just outside the doorway.

"Yeah, he can come in," she said, fear gripping her. Stefan approached her slowly.

"You understand exactly what you just did, don't you," he asked her cautiously.

"I know what just happened to me, and I know what it should mean, but I don't understand how it's possible," she said. He sat down across from where she and Elena sat and leaned forward. Persia looked to Elena before looking back at Stefan quickly.

"Both of you?" Stefan nodded.

"And what happened on the porch...?" Stefan nodded again, his face grim.

"What do you remember?" Persia shook her head.

"There was a knock on the door and I went to answer it. The next thing I remember after that was someone biting me and I passed out."

"You were compelled out onto your porch, where you were fed on until you were nearly drained of blood, and then the vampire who attacked you just left you for dead," Stefan told her. Persia shook her head as she wiped tears from her chin.

"Can we not say that word yet? I'm so not ready to hear it." Elena smiled sadly at her.

"Of course," she said. "It was close, Persia. When we got here, you were just minutes, if not seconds, from death. Stefan fed you his blood to heal your body quickly." Persia shuddered at the thought and couldn't meet his eyes; she'd never be able to thank him for saving her life... Sensing her discomfort, Stefan stood.

"I'd better go. I'll see you at home," he said to Elena as he left. Elena stayed with her for the rest of the night, answering all of her questions, assuring her they'd find out who'd attacked her, comforting her when it became too much, and finally watching over her as she slept.

Damon stopped outside Persia's house, listening to her breathing and wondering what it was about this human girl that kept her in his thoughts when he tried so hard to shut everyone and everything out.

Over the next two weeks, Persia learned as much as was possible about the supernatural heritage of Mystic Falls. It scared her, learning about the fear and anguish that had been caused by vampires in town, but she felt it was necessary to make sure she wouldn't be a victim again.

She'd caught glimpses of that guy who'd saved her in the woods around town, but he hadn't approached her again yet. Her stomach knotted every time she saw him, wondering if this would be the time he'd ask for her ring again, but so far, he'd kept his distance. It weirded her out that he knew her name when she knew she hadn't given it to him. She'd seen him a few times near her house, too.

"Elena," she asked one night while out for dinner at the Grille, "who's that guy over there?" Elena looked up and fidgeted in her seat when she realized that Persia was looking toward the bar.

"Persia, stay away from him; he's trouble."

"But who is he?"

"That's Stefan's brother, Damon." Persia's eyes grew round.

"That's Damon?!" She felt a stab of fear in her stomach as she put two and two together.

"Yeah. Just don't go there, Persia, okay? Just because no one's gone missing since you've been here doesn't mean he's not still dangerous." Persia looked over her shoulder at him again and felt her chest squeeze with compassion, not fear, for him. She shook her head and tried to remember the stories; he wasn't a victim... he made victims.