The Vampire Diaries: Blood and Fire

12. Flashes of the Past

Damon Salvatore opened the thick book in front of him, involuntarily releasing the mounds of dust that had collected over the century and a half. Sitting on the couch just a few feet away from him was Klaus. 

"Why are you here?" Damon asked, annoyed.

Klaus put his hands together in a calm fashion. "Need I remind you of what happened the other day?" Damon didn't reply, so Klaus continued. "I was told by a drunk teenage girl that my father, of all people, turned her into a vampire near a thousand years ago."

"And?" Damon tried for the nonchalant tone, still flipping through the pages of the Mystic Falls' Founding Families book. "Lillian Sinclair" had yet to show up.

"Well, as to be expected, a vision of Mikael's burnt and dead body comes to mind. You are aware that the death of an Original vampire leads to the death of their whole sireline, are you not? After all, is it not the only thing keeping you and your friends from your poor attempts to kill me?"

Damon ignored him. His fingers rifled through the book, page after page, his eyes scrawling over the words for any mention of Lillian being a founder of Mystic Falls. The only thing he came up with were fingers covered in dust.

"Let me see it," a voice demanded from behind. Damon glanced at Rebekah, shocked. The youngest Original walked around the sofa and sat opposite Klaus, giving her brother a glare, then returning her gaze to Damon. "Don't look so surprised to see me. Stefan called. Said it was important. Something about the dead walking?"

"The dead aren't walking," Damon said to Rebekah. He handed her the large tome. "But by all means, give it a try. I doubt you'll be able to find something I couldn't.

A minute or two passed as the house fell quiet. Across from Damon, Klaus was blatantly ignoring his sister, and Damon recalled that Rebekah had destroyed his remaining supply of Elena's blood. The Mikaelson was biting on a toothpick. If the Salvatore hadn't known better, he would have said the Original hybrid was anxious.

Finally, Rebekah said, "Here." Damon sat up, impatiently waiting to hear what she had to say. "'Lillian MacIntyre.'"

Damon frowned, leaning back against the sofa. "Her last name is Sinclair."

Rebekah glared at him. "Don't be daft." She showed him the book, where her finger was on a page more than halfway through it. "She could have changed it. Perhaps MacIntyre was the last name she was born with."

Damon pondered this for a moment, but wouldn't agree. His pride and ego were too great. Instead, he just stared at the youngest Mikaelson, thinking. She may be right, he thought silently. Maybe Lillian did change her last name since she was in Mystic Falls last. If I didn't want to be traced back to the Founding Families, I would do the same. But something still nagged at him. Lillian had said that she had compelled everyone to forget about her. But since he and Stefan had become vampires...

Suddenly memories began to resurface in his head. Visions and images filled his mind, pictures of the past replaying as if they had happened just yesterday.

November 1860

The autumn breeze was a blessed relief after the harsh summer. The cool winds swirled around Damon's exposed arms and ankles, sending welcome chills up his skin.

He stood just outside the Salvatore Manor, a pack in one hand, a torch in the other. Above him, the full moon shimmered like a silver coin, casting its luminosity across the trees and manor house. Farther along the beaten road he was about to travel upon, townspeople gathered in small clusters, speaking in hushed voices. Damon ignored them, turning in the other direction.