Better still, there were some papers inside the box that, based on Elena’s quick glance, seemed like they might be the research notes on how Jack had developed the formula.
She sent a wave of victory, of joy, through the connection to Damon. He’d know what she meant.
As carefully as she could, hyperaware of how fragile a syringe was, she packed the box into her case and glanced around the room. If it held other secrets, she hadn’t uncovered them. And staying any longer would be pushing her luck.
Elena smoothed down her skirt and straightened her blouse. There was one last thing she needed to do.
Leaving Jack’s office, she was careful to leave the door slightly cracked, the way she’d found it. There was only silence in the hall, no sound coming from the supply closet. Her luck had held: no one seemed to have yet noticed that anything was amiss.
When she opened the supply closet, the vampire was facing the shelves of envelopes, calm and relaxed, just as she’d left him. Power thrummed through her, and she felt the tendril that held him in place, running straight from her to him. He turned to look amiably at her, awaiting her next instruction.
Elena whipped out the hypodermic she’d been holding behind her back, jammed it into the side of his throat, and pushed the plunger.
The effect was instantaneous. The vampire choked, his eyes bulging. He brought his hands up to claw at his throat, pushing the empty hypodermic away. The gentle spell he had seemed to be under snapped. “What are you doing to me?” he gasped, his voice strangled. “What did you do?”
He fell heavily to the floor, panting. A thin stream of drool ran out across his chin. He seemed to be struggling to move, tiny twitches of his arms and legs, but he wasn’t getting anywhere. His eyes, red and watering, fixed on Elena. “Help me,” he whispered.
Elena hardened her heart. “You would have killed me if you had the chance, you know you would,” she said. He only blinked, looking up at her with a dazed expression. “Wouldn’t you?” she demanded, letting a thread of the compelling echo slide into her voice.
The dying vampire twitched again. His eyes rolled back into his head. He was dead.
Steeling herself, Elena took hold of the vampire’s legs and dragged him into Jack’s office, where he wouldn’t be found as easily. He was heavy, and his head bumped roughly against the doorframe as she pulled him through. Despite herself, Elena winced at the thump.
She pulled him over to the coat closet where the poison had been hidden and wedged him inside. Closing the closet door, she turned the latch, locking his body inside.
Combing her hair and touching up her makeup, Elena made sure that she was pristine again before she left Jack’s office. It was better not to look like she had been dragging corpses around if she wanted to get out of here unquestioned. With luck, no one would look for the dead vampire until tomorrow.
She could feel Damon radiating anxiety through their bond, now that she had a moment to realize it.
She tried to send him reassurance and joy—they’d found it, they’d succeeded—but the emotions she was feeling from Damon didn’t calm down. He’d be happy once she was out of Lifetime Solutions. That black box would ensure Damon’s safety. Vengeance for Stefan’s death.
Coming down in the elevator, Elena allowed herself for a moment to wonder if now they’d be able to move on.
No one stopped her as she crossed the lobby. Elena’s heart beat faster. She was going to make it out.
Outside, it was now fully dark, and the plaza was deserted.
“Damon?” Elena called. “I’ve got it.” She could sense him, somewhere nearby.
“Elena.” Jack’s voice. A cold shiver ran down her back. Elena turned around.
Jack had his arm wrapped around Damon, a stake sunk halfway into Damon’s chest. As she watched, he pushed the stake in a little farther, and a circle of bright blood began to spread across Damon’s shirt. “Elena,” Jack said again. “I think we need to talk.”
“The stake’s touching his heart,” Jack said. “I can kill him in a second. Give me the poison, and I’ll let your boyfriend go.”
Damon could hardly breathe, and with each tiny movement of the stake in Jack’s hand, he felt dizzy and drained. His whole chest burned as if it were on fire. He stood as still as he could and fixed his eyes on Elena, willing her to listen to the message he was trying to send her. Don’t give it to him. Run away.
He didn’t want to die. But he couldn’t live with himself if they let go of their only chance of killing Jack. Not when Jack had killed Stefan, killed Katherine.
Besides, if Elena did hand over the poison, he would probably shove the stake through Damon’s heart anyway. They knew by now that they couldn’t trust him.