The Vampire Diaries: The Salvation, Unspoken(47)

“Want to play checkers while we wait?” Elena asked, stacking the red and black pieces across the miniature game board sitting on their table.

“Checkers?” Damon said with slight distaste.

“Sure, it’ll be fun.” Elena said. Damon hesitated for a split second, and Elena’s eyes widened. “You don’t know how to play checkers?”

“You’d be amazed how often it doesn’t come up,” Damon said dryly.

“Still,” Elena said. “You’re more than five hundred years old. You never learned? Five-year-olds can play checkers.”

“They didn’t when I was five,” Damon snapped. He felt ridiculously embarrassed—it wasn’t like he wanted to play a child’s game. “I can play chess.”

“I suppose that is much more suave and creature-of-the-night,” Elena agreed thoughtfully. “Come on, let me show you. Checkers is easy.”

There was a teasing glow in her eyes, and Damon couldn’t resist her. The checkers clicked together as she stacked them, and he took a moment to bask in the warmth coming through the bond between them. She still loved Stefan, he knew it, but she cared for Damon, too. “Go ahead,” he told her. “Whatever you want.”

Elena shot him a quick, triumphant grin. “Okay,” she said brightly, laying the checkers out on the board between them, black ones in front of Damon, red ones in front of herself. “So, you move diagonally forward, only on the dark squares. And if you’re next to one of my pieces and there’s an empty space on the other side, you can jump over it, and capture it. When you get to my side of the board, your piece gets kinged and can move forward and backward. You win if you get all my pieces off the board.”

“I see.” Damon sat back and regarded the board thoughtfully, pushing back the little swell of glee inside him so that Elena wouldn’t feel it through their bond. This game was just Alquerque, which had already been old when he was a child, only played on a chessboard. “I think I can handle it.”

Elena went first, and Damon bided his time for several moves. Then she jumped two of his pieces, sitting back with a smirk. “And that’s how you do it,” she said, pleased with herself.

“Impressive,” Damon said coolly, eyeing a hole she’d left in her defenses. Instead of taking advantage, he ignored the opening and moved another piece forward.

It was good to see Elena enjoying herself for a moment. She’d been too sad for too long. Maybe, Damon thought. Maybe someday she’ll get over Stefan. It was a betrayal of his little brother, but he couldn’t help the flush of hope the thought gave him. After all, Damon had all the time in the world to wait.

“You’ll get it,” Elena said encouragingly, taking another one of his pieces. “Checkers isn’t hard, I promise.” There was a smug little curl at the edge of her lips.

“Indeed,” Damon said. He could hear the waitress at the counter behind him, smell the warm salt of Elena’s fries. Lunch was ready. He leaned forward and jumped four of her men with a satisfying series of clicks. “King me.”

Elena blinked at the board, and Damon let a smile spread over his face. “You must be a wonderful teacher,” he told her.



Elena’s cheeks were prettily flushed, and she glanced up at him through her lashes as they crossed the parking lot together. Her arm pressed against his, and Damon was gloriously aware of the heat coming off her silky skin.

“You’re a quick learner,” she commented. “I can’t believe you won every game.”

Damon vaguely noted a few figures at the edge of the parking lot, looking toward them, and checked absently—human, harmless—his attention fixed on Elena. He watched as they got into their car and drove away. He’d been right: human.

“My life’s been long enough—” he began, and then a heavy body slammed into him, low and hard, knocking the breath out of him.

Vampires.

Damon hit the ground and rolled, grappling with the synthetic vampire above him. His back scraped painfully against the asphalt of the parking lot. A heavy, dark-skinned, muscular man, older than most of Jack’s protégés, snarled down at him, his teeth sharp and glaringly white against his skin.

“Damon!” Elena shouted.

The vampire pressed forward, his teeth scraping at Damon’s throat, and Damon yanked away. The vampire’s body was warm, as warm as a human’s, and his breath was hot and fetid, like something rotten. Damon shoved at him, trying to get some leverage to snap his neck. But his weight was too much—his canines sank into Damon’s throat, tearing at it.