The road stretched ahead, dark and empty. Leo drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. The engine of his BMW hummed quietly, a smooth, steady sound that filled the interior of the car. Beside him, Elena had drifted into sleep. Her head leaned against the passenger window, her breathing slow and even. Her face was relaxed, peaceful. The earlier tension, the difficult conversation, the impossible questions—all of it had faded from her features. She looked young like this. Innocent. He watched her for a moment, then returned his attention to the road.
He did not think about how to make her believe.That problem could wait. His mind needed rest. His body,that was not human anymore, did not experience physical fatigue the way human bodies did. He did not need sleep and need food. The ordinary requirements of mortal existence did not apply to him. But his mind was tired. The events of the past hours had piled up one on top of another, each one heavier than the last. The confrontation with Stefan. The encounter with Lexi. Elena's questions, sharp and persistent, cutting through his carefully constructed lies.His thoughts circled and circled, chasing their own tails, finding no exit.
He pushed the gear shift forward into sixth gear. The car responded instantly, engine note deepening as it gained speed. The trees lining the road blurred past, dark shapes against a darker sky. The headlights cut two clean tunnels of light through the night.
Then he saw it.
A light in the distance. Bright, white, glaring. A car, parked on the shoulder of the narrow road. Its headlights were on, illuminating the empty asphalt ahead of it. Leo noticed it absently, his tired mind noting the presence of another vehicle without assigning much importance to it. Someone pulled over. Maybe checking a map.Maybe taking a phone call.It was nothing unusual.
Then the car began to move.
It pulled away from the shoulder and positioned itself directly in the center of the road. Its headlights pointed straight at Leo's approaching vehicle. And then it accelerated. Not slowly and cautiously, but with sudden, explosive speed. It hurtled toward him on the narrow road, closing the distance between them with terrifying swiftness. Three kilometers. Two kilometers. One.
Leo frowned. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Were they drunk? It was possible. The road attracted drunk drivers late at night, people who had consumed too much at the Grill or one of the other bars scattered through Mystic Falls. They stumbled out into the night, got behind wheels, and drove with the reckless confidence of those who had temporarily lost their ability to assess risk. He had seen it before, countless times.
He steered slightly to the left, toward his own side of the road. There was enough space for two cars to pass each other here, if both drivers cooperated. A little give on each side, a little courtesy, and they would slide past each other without incident.
The other car did not cooperate.
It veered left. Directly into his path. Directly toward him.
Leo's confusion hardened into understanding. This was not drunk driving. This was not a mistake. This was intentional. Deliberate. Someone was trying to hit him.
He glanced at Elena. She remained asleep, her breathing unchanged. The car's smooth suspension and insulated cabin had shielded her from the sudden shifts in direction. She had not felt the swerve and opened her eyes. Her face remained peaceful, unaware of the danger rushing toward her.
There was not much time. The other car was close now, its headlights blinding. Leo opened his mouth to wake her, to tell her something, anything—and then his eyes caught the figure behind the windshield of the approaching vehicle.
Blonde hair. Familiar features. A cold, hard smile that he recognized immediately.
Lexi.
And beside her, in the passenger seat, another figure. Male. His face was partially obscured by shadow, but his clothes were visible, the shape of his shoulders, the set of his jaw. Stefan. It could only be Stefan. Who else would be with Lexi tonight? Who else would join her in this insane attack?
A burning anger rose in Leo's chest. It came fast and hot, flooding through him like liquid fire. He had thought the matter was settled. He had accepted Stefan's apology, false as it was. He had allowed Lexi to leave with her pride wounded but her life intact. He had been generous and merciful. And this was how they repaid him.
He had not expected this. He had underestimated their arrogance, their foolishness, their inability to recognize when they were beaten. Lexi could not swallow the humiliation of what happened at the Grill. Her three hundred and fifty years of pride would not allow her to accept defeat gracefully. So she had chosen this path instead. Violence. Revenge. A direct attack on the road, under cover of darkness, with no witnesses.
Insidious.That was the word that burned in his mind. Insidious and cowardly.
But Leo did not worry about himself. He was Lucifer Morningstar.These two vampires did not possess the power to scratch him. Their strength, their speed, their tricks and abilities—they were nothing. Less than nothing. A mosquito biting a mountain.
But Elena.
Elena was human. Fragile. Breakable. She slept beside him, unaware that death was hurtling toward her at a hundred kilometers per hour. When the two cars hit each other, she would not survive. Her body would break into many pieces. Car glass would go into her skin. The metal of the car would press down on her. Her heart would not beat anymore. Her lungs would not move. Her brain would stop. She would be dead. He would be the reason. He underestimated the depth of Lexi's hatred.He did not know that Stefan was this desperate.
His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked. His knuckles turned white. His jaw clenched until his teeth ached. The anger burned hotter, but beneath it, colder, deeper, something else moved.
Fear.
Not for himself. Never for himself. But for her.
He had to wake her and had to get her out of this car before impact. There was still time.
He reached across the center console, his hand finding her shoulder. He shook her gently at first, then harder.
"Elena," he said. His voice was tight, urgent. "Elena, wake up."
Her eyelashes fluttered. The movement was small, delicate, like the wings of a moth testing the air before flight. Her brow furrowed slightly, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. She was still deep inside herself, surfacing slowly from whatever dream had held her. The world outside the car—the rushing wind, the approaching headlights, the scream of engines pushed to their limits—had not yet reached her consciousness. She drifted upward through layers of sleep, each one thinner than the last, and then her eyes opened.
She saw the lights first. Bright, blinding, filling the entire windshield with white glare. Then she saw the shape behind the lights, the dark mass of another car hurtling toward them at impossible speed. Her brain processed the information in fragments, pieces that did not immediately connect into a coherent whole. Car. Road. Lights. Coming closer. Too close.
"What is happening?" Her voice was high, tight with panic. Her hands flew up, pressing against the dashboard as if she could push the danger away through sheer will. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps. She had just been sleeping. She had been warm and comfortable and safe. Now this. Now death, rushing toward her with its bright eyes open wide.
Leo turned to look at her. His face was calm, controlled. The panic that had flared in his chest when he knew Elena is in danger had been forced down, locked away behind a wall of iron discipline. Elena could not see him afraid. Elena could not see him uncertain. She needed him to be solid, unmovable, certain. He looked directly into her eyes and held her gaze.
"Elena," he said. His voice was steady, low, the same voice he used when telling her everything would be all right. "Don't panic. Nothing is going to happen to you when I am here. Nothing. Believe me."
She looked at him. Her eyes were wide, wet with the beginning of tears. Her lips parted, closed, parted again. She wanted to believe him. She needed to believe him. But her mind, sluggish from sleep and overwhelmed by sudden terror, could not form coherent thoughts. Questions tumbled over each other in chaotic succession. What is happening? Why is that car driving at us? What are we going to do? Who is that? Are we going to die?
"What are we going to do?" she gasped. Her fingers clawed at the edge of her seat. Her body pressed back against the leather, trying to put distance between herself and the approaching collision.
Leo did not answer her question. There was no time for explanations, no time for the careful, gentle approach he preferred when introducing her to the impossible truths of his existence. The other car was seconds away. He could see Lexi's face clearly now, every detail of her cold smile illuminated by the headlights. He could see Stefan beside her, his expression grim, his hands braced against the dashboard. There was no time for anything except action.
His hand left the steering wheel. It moved across the center console and gripped her shoulder firmly, not gently. His eyes locked onto hers with absolute intensity.
"Elena," he said. His voice was sharp, commanding, the voice of a man who expected to be obeyed without question. "Open your passenger door. Now."
She did not hesitate. Her hand found the handle. Her fingers curled around it. She pulled. The door swung open, and cold night air rushed into the car, carrying the smell of asphalt and trees and approaching danger. She held onto the frame, her knuckles white, her body tensed for whatever came next.
Before the attack. Before the headlights appeared on the dark road. Before Elena opened her door.Before any of it began.
Lexi stood beside her car, studying it with a critical eye. It was her usual vehicle.She had parked it on the shoulder of the road, halfway between the Mystic Grill and the Gilbert house, in a stretch where the trees pressed close and the asphalt narrowed.
Stefan stood beside her, his posture tense. He had already voiced his objections multiple times, and each time Lexi had dismissed them with the same cold determination. Now he tried again, his voice low and urgent.
"Lexi, why don't we do it another way?" he said. "A way that doesn't harm Elena. She has nothing to do with this. She is innocent. She is human. She did not choose to be in that car with him."
Lexi turned to look at him. Her expression was calm, almost pitying. She understood his concern. She had expected it. Stefan had always been burdened by his conscience, his endless need to protect the innocent and preserve the lives of those who did not deserve to die. It was one of the things she loved about him. It was also, in moments like this, one of the things that made him weak.
"Don't worry, Stefan," she said. Her voice was soft, almost gentle. A small smile curved her lips, but it was not a warm smile. It was the smile of someone who had already calculated every variable and accepted every cost. "Leo won't let her die. No matter what happens, no matter what we do, he will protect her. That is his weakness and vulnerability. We are not putting Elena in danger. We are putting Leo in a position where he must choose between his own safety and hers."
Stefan shook his head. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched at his sides. "But we are still putting Elena in danger," he insisted. "We are still using her as a tool, as a weapon against him. She is not a tool.She is a person. A human person who has done nothing to deserve being caught between us and him."
Lexi's smile faded. Her eyes hardened. She looked at Stefan with something that was almost disappointment.
"A little danger means nothing," she said. Her voice was flat, final. "A little danger is nothing compared to what he did to you. What he did to me. What he will continue to do to both of us if we let him live." She paused, her gaze shifting to the dark road ahead. "What we are going to do is end this. Tonight here.We are going to show him that there are consequences for humiliating us, for treating us like servants, for reaching into our souls and taking what does not belong to him."
Stefan had no answer. He stood beside her in silence, staring at the same dark road, the same empty stretch of asphalt where soon a car would appear carrying the man he feared and the woman he loved. Lexi was right, he thought. She was right about Leo. She was right about the danger. She was right about what needed to be done.
But being right did not make it easier. Being right did not quiet the voice in his head that whispered Elena's name over and over, like a prayer, like a lament.
He said nothing. He simply waited, his eyes fixed on the darkness, his heart heavy with choices he did not want to make and consequences he could not avoid.
.....
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