Reyna

CHAPTER SEVEN

              A soft groan escaped Val's lips as she came to, sunlight turning the backs of her eyelids a flaming red. She scrunched her face up, annoyed at the invasion into her warm, safe sleep.

What had happened? She felt like she'd been asleep for years, but at the same time there wasn't any exhaustion. In fact, this felt like the best night of sleep she'd had in years. She stretched up, expecting to feel her fingers brush against her headboard. But instead, her hands were met with empty air.

Confusion flooded through her and her eyes flickered open, amber-brown eyes meeting the very high and fancy-looking ceiling above her.

Wait...

The night before slammed into her at full speed and she gasped, bolting upright as she looked around. She was in the Salvatore boarding house, in a random bed. She looked down and realized that someone had removed her leather jacket and shoes, leaving her in her Queen crop top and jeans. Running a hand through her hair, she glanced at the bedside clock to see it was well past eleven a.m. Her heart jumped to her throat, but a familiar voice interrupted her panic.

"Don't worry about work," Stefan said as he entered the room, holding a glass of water, "I already called in and pretended to be your supervisor from the ambulance, saying you needed an extra day off before you went back." He held out the glass of water, "Thought you might need some."

It was then Val noticed how dry her throat and mouth was, and she took the water, draining it in several seconds before placing it on the bedside table. "My head," she said softly, running a hand through her hair again.

"Yeah, I'm no doctor, but your concussion was pretty bad. So, that's two near death experiences in," he checked his phone before turning back to her, "less than one week."

Val chuckled with him, "Well, that is also the second time you've saved my life. Guess this means I should give some kind of half-ass apology for that lecture I gave you the other day."

Stefan's face dropped, and her eyes narrowed as he scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that; I'm not the one who healed you. I would've, but I didn't get there in time."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Well, if you didn't heal me then who-" she stopped dead, and then closed her eyes. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes!"

They both looked over to the doorway to see Damon Salvatore, in all his cocky ass-hole glory, leaning against the doorframe. He smirked at her.

"I couldn't help it, your blood tastes amazing and I'd be a fool to let it go." He said cheerfully, and Val turned back to Stefan with a desperate look in her eye.

"Punch me in the face again."

She swung by her apartment to freshen up, but as soon as she was showered and changed, she strapped on her trusty dagger, put her 9mm in the hidden holster she had underneath her top, and grabbed a new weapon.

It was a long bow, beautifully carved and hadn't been touched in years. Her dad was always her marksman buddy, but shooting arrows had always been his favorite. She loved how he looked when he did it, too. Body still, fingers taught, slow and deep breaths. It was amazing.

But after he died, even looking at a bow or arrows was just painful. All she was reminded of was her best friend being gone.

However, out behind the boarding house were acres and acres of undisturbed woods, and the backyard was huge. Absolutely perfect for setting up a shooting range. Of course, she'd take safety precautions. But the opportunity was too good to pass up.