Wicked Hearts do the Devil's Work

Hey everyone, I'm back with the sequel to Bleeding hearts are never cured, starting right off from the last chapter. This will be a tad darker than the last novel but it will action packed and entertaining. I will try to put more of the book series references in, even though it's in the TV show fandom, so if you've read the books you will enjoy those, if not…you'll still like it. Anyway I'm rambling so I disclaim, nothing is owned by me.

So on with the show.

Chapter 1: Douse

Damon Salvatore had never been more frightened for and furious at his brother in his entire life. Why do you always have to be the hero, Stefan? He growled in his head. Stefan's hero complex was always getting him in trouble ever since they were children. Damon remembered when they were young and Stefan climbed a tree in order to save a cat for a little girl that lived on the farm next to them. As he reached for the cat it, moved at the last second-causing Stefan to slip on the branch that he was standing on and broke his collar bone. As his older brother, Damon had never forgotten this; it was one of the moments that he had failed to protect him. This is not going to be another one of those times, he promised to never fail again.

You better not be dead Stefan, he mentally growled to himself.

Shaking his head free, Damon glanced to his side at Alaric Saltzman; the older man was only a few steps ahead of him but seemed relativity ready for a fight. Damon guessed that Alaric had probably been fighting monsters like Katherine his entire life. He imagined what it must be like to hunt down supernatural creatures and risking one's own life every day. Damon had to admit he enjoyed the thought of risking his life with the thrill of adventure, but hurting people like Bonnie made him sick. He knew that some supernaturals were evil and had to be put down-like Katherine-but others were innocent and were just trying to live their lives as regular humans. Killing for the sake of killing was one of the reasons why Damon left the army, but killing to protect others was a philosophy he could live by.

Having Bonnie in his life changed so many things for Damon; not only had she introduced him to a world that one could only dream about in their wildest childhood fantasies, but her mere presence had given him a reason to live. Before Bonnie, he just wondered through life not truly knowing what he wanted. He knew what he didn't want from life and that was to follow in his father's footsteps. That is what led him to the army, where he found freedom from the strangling traditions of Mystic Falls and was able to gain honor based on his merit and not from the pennies in his pocketbook. However, the Brotherhood of the Confederate Army was fictional and was only a thin mask covering up Elitist ideals-the very thing that Damon was so desperately trying to escape from.

Upon this revelation, Damon knew that he couldn't stay with the army and found that he wasn't willing to die namelessly on a battle field. He preferred dying by being suffocated by the velvet cushions of debutants and southern styles; at least then he would die next to his blood brother. The submission drove Damon into a dark depression, where he could only further his father's hatred and disapproval. He often drank off most of their arguments; ignoring the concern that Stefan gave him whenever he came wandering back to their father's mansion in the middle of the night, smelling of Bourbon. He drank himself into a purgatory, feeling nothing, just numbly passing through the daily routines of a rich Salvatore son. People often thought that his depression was caused by the war and Damon let them believe that- their pitifully small minds could not comprehend the truth behind his madness. Damon was numb long before the war; he was numb the moment he realized that there was suffering in the world. His initial confrontation with pain, had been with his mother's death, but it had escalated when he saw-firsthand-the carnage and suffering that people were willing to put each other through for their own personal gain.

In his dark days, Damon had only two solaces, his brother and the servants. Surrounding himself with Stefan's naivety and innocence, made him forget-briefly-about the harshness of reality and caused him to focus solely on protecting his brother. The servants were a different story all together. He had first joined in on their celebrations when he was an adolescent. It was when Emily had initially came to work at the mansion and the rest of the staff thrown her a welcome party. He had been drawn in by the sights and sounds of pure unrestrained joy. He wandered onto the back lot, where they had lit a bonfire and were dancing to self-produced music. He let himself be enthralled by the scents of food being cooked over open flame and how the dry heat felt wondrous against his pale skin. It was through the mass of bodies, moving to the ballad, that he had caught his first glance at Emily. She was dancing with a few other girls and caught his gaze, she smiled freely at him, like she had no care in the world. They all smiled the same way, as if no worldly troubles could touch them- even though their burdens were heavier than most. They even accepted him freely, he was their Masters' son, but they held no resentment against of him and welcomed him as one of their own. It was this freedom and acceptance that Damon could never know.

Bonnie had opened his eyes to change, the flash of her green eyes and a brief smile was all it took to pull him out of the abyss. The way her skin had glowed that day, life sparked to every vein of his body. Her wit and strength made him realize that life was worth holding on to- if not for the adventure of a new day, then the promises of love and championship. Bonnie knew who she was and what she had to do. If she was willing to make her life's mission to save the world than it would be Damon's pleasure to be right beside her, protecting her from harm.

He nearly ran into Saltzman as he stopped dead at the edge of a clearing. Damon heard the bubbling of the stream that ran through the middle of it; the moon illuminated the setting, giving the vegetation and water a silvery glow. It would have been a beautiful scene if it were not for the crumpled form of a body that he spotted laying underneath a lone tree.

Damon's throat went dry and before he knew it, he was racing across field- ignoring the warning cries of Alaric behind him. Stefan was still, too still and too pale. His bronze bangs had been flung against his brow, carelessly. His eyelashes were stagnant against his hallowed cheeks, indicating that there was no thought occurring behind the lids. His lips and chin were stained red and protruded outwards, emphasizing the unnatural colour. His neck was speckled with purple and blue splotches; the bruises distorted the pale skin. His shirt had been torn and the remains of more red stains were the only evidence of a struggle.

He collapsed next to his brother in a heap. He reached out slowly to ruffle his hair; like he did when they were children, "Stefan…Stefan wake up…please…do not be…" The last syllable was broken off by a sob.

Damon tried to resist the urge to cry, but a few tears prickled down his face. In an instance, he was no longer a strong, brave soldier, he reverted back the small boy who sobbed over the loss of his mother. Stefan wasn't just injured, he was…gone. All the memories of them racing each other through the orchids, sword fighting with sticks, and tackling each other over a football flooded his mind. He would never again get to see Stefan's toothy smile, when he told a joke or the innovative glint in his eyes when he had found a solution to a particularly difficult problem.

Gone…all gone.

Nothing registered in Damon's mind as Alaric raced up to him, shouting nonsense in his ears. Not even the sight of Alaric bending other the two brothers to pressed his fingers to Stefan's throat, "No pulse" he muttered, made any recognition to him. He didn't feel anything as Alaric gripped his shoulder and shouted at him to move. Damon just pulled Stefan's body closer to him and held on to him for dear life.

"Damon that's enough! We have to move him!" Alaric ordered, shaking him.

Fury snapped through Damon's body as he stood and whirled on the vampire hunter, punching him in the jaw, "HE'S MY LITTLE BROTHER GODAMMIT!" he screamed, feeling the weight of reality come crashing down upon him, "And I failed him…"

Ric seemed to wipe off his punch with relative ease- but not without spitting out a mouthful of blood on to the ground. This time he placed a comforting hand on Damon's shoulder, "You did not fail. Stefan knew what he was getting into when he volunteered to chase Katherine. He wanted his revenge."

Damon clenched his fists tightly at his sides, "Katherine…" He spat, yes, she was going to pay for this.

"You can avenge him later. For the time being, we have to move him. This place is too eerie, for anyone to have their final moments in."

Damon didn't respond to that as he picked up Stefan, with Alaric's help and slung his arm around his shoulder as if they were just dragging him back from a night at the pub. Something he would never get to share with his brother.

…..

Anna pulled her silkily black hair back from her ear as she attempted to listen for Damon's and Mr. Saltzman's to return. They were supposed to meet Bonnie back at the church once they retrieved Stefan, but she could no longer hear the witch's heartbeat or her breathing. She wondered where Bonnie had run off to at a time like this. Perhaps she couldn't handle the death of her cousin, Emily.

Death.

It was stale in the air. The flames had all died, leaving the charred skeleton of the Church. Only a pile of rubble laid in its wake, the evidence of the town council's infidelity was burnt away with the wafts of smoke. The silence was unnerving, all the animals had fled from the forest, either because of the fire or that they sensed the enormous power radiating from the supernatural creatures. It gave her an eerie feel; just there in the darkness and silence.

"Do you hear anything?" Anna turned towards Jeremy, who was bent down next to his father, John Gilbert and was attempting to bind his wound with a ripped piece of his tail coat.

She shook head solemnly, "No. The silence is unnerving. I should be able to hear something, but I just can't. I don't like it."

"I'm sure they are fine, and are just out of your ear shot. We'll wait a little longer and if they don't show then we will search for them."

She cast her eyes downwards at the unconscious Jonathan Gilbert; he was pale but she could still hear the sound of his breathing, "What about your father?"

Jeremy looked up at her from where he was tying the bandage up, "The bleeding has stopped, and has begun to clot; once I get him to a safe place and sanitize the wound, he should be fine."

"You seem to have a lot medical knowledge." Anna said with raised eyebrows, she was impressed.

"The Knights train all their soldiers to be on-field medics, in case one of our brother's falls in battle." Jeremy murmured, "Additionally, I cannot call this man my father any longer." He stated bitterly as he gazed down at the man below him.

Anna placed a hand on his shoulder; deciding to change the subject, Jeremy turned to look at her with questioning eyes, "Are you alright? I mean with your mother...I'm terribly sorry for what happened..." He trailed off.

The young vampiress bit her lip in sorrow; her mother had promised her a life that would go on forever, but how long could forever truly last? Now for the first time in her life, she had no one to control her opinions or actions, she was alone. Her life was up to her now. She was free, free to move on. No longer must she stay stagnant. Her initial ferocious anger settled into a depressing ache, a constant throbbing in the back of her mind.

Pushing down all her swirling feelings, so she just gave Jeremy a weak smile, "I'm not fine now, but I will be...I just need time."

He nodded, "I understand, you do know that when you're ready to talk I'm here for you."

Anna smiled gently at his kindness, "I'll keep that in mind."

Suddenly Anna heard the thumping of two heart beats and the rustlings of leaves as they hurried to towards the edge of the forest.

"They're coming back." She muttered to Jeremy and then froze when she caught Stefan's scent in an up draft.

"Oh my god." She hissed and went speeding towards the two men, leaving the young hunter in her dust.

When she reached them, she took in their appearance. Mr. Saltzman looked far more ragged then he no doubt felt; his sandy brown hair was ruffled and had random twigs jutting out of it at odd angles. He had heavy bags under his eyes, but the eyes themselves were alight with ferocity, he was not yet ready to give up the fight. He definitely had the fighting spirit of a Knight of Redemption. Damon, on the other hand, looked like hell; his raven hair was plastered to his clammy forehead and his pupils were dilated in delusion, as if he were trying to look anywhere that was not his brother in his arms.

Anna dreaded looking down at Stefan, but she had to confirm her suspicions. Stefan's body was slung in between the two men with his arm dangling over their shoulders. His head lay limply against his chest, his chestnut was tangled, and his clothes were tattered and stained with blood. Anna knelt down before him and placed two fingers underneath his chin. She lifted to examine his features; the skin on his face gave a waxy glow, as if the sweat of his stifles had not dried but molded to the draining colour. His cheeks bones jutted out and were smeared with dry blood and unshed tears still lingered on his closed eyelashes. His chapped lips were parted, but he gave no breath and she heard no heartbeat, but she knew the sickly sweet scent of the poison that was unnaturally crawling through his veins, preparing to infect the heart.

Stefan might be dead at the current moment, but he was not going to stay dead for much longer.

Anna gave a soft hiss as she let Stefan's head drop back down and caught Damon's frantic gaze. She offered him a weary look before saying, "Believe me, Damon. Your troubles are just beginning, your little brother is turning into a vampire."

…

Bonnie Bennett had been thrown back into consciousness as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice over her head. Although she was roused from the endless abyss, she dared not open her eyes, just yet. The sound of metal grinding against metal was drilled into her head as she attempted not to wince. A shrill of a steam whistle, the chugging of the engine and the feeling of moving forward continuously, alerted her that she was on a train. She risked moving her hand along the velvet seat she was laying on.

The muscles in her arms and legs ached from being stuck in the same position for what must have been hours; she resisted the urge to stretch out her tired limbs, but the tingling of her witchy senses told her that she was not alone.

"You might as well sit up, dear. I already know that you're awake." Chimed a feminine voice with a thrill of an English accent.

Giving up her rouse, Bonnie slowly opened her eyes. She expected to be blinded by the glare of the sun, but she was surprised to see that the only light in the compartment of an oil lamp, because the window had been blocked out with a heavy black curtain. The lamp was placed on a folding table with a delicate looking tea set that balanced on a tray. Bonnie sat up sluggishly, feeling the muscles in her neck crack in protest; ignoring this feeling she took the chance to taken in the woman who sat across from her.

She wore a dark rose coloured gown that reached the floor; it was trimmed with white lace and rose shaped buttons. The colour of her dress contrasted deeply with the colour of her skin, which was an alabaster that seemed to glow from the lamp light. Her sandy brown hair was tied back in a simple bun with a bow that matched her dress. Her hazel eyes glittered with mischief as she took a sip from her tea cup.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" It came out gruffer than Bonnie initially intended due to the lack of use.

The woman smiled brightly, revealing her needle point fangs, "You will learn what we want in due time, dear. And for your initial question…my name is Rosemary, but you can call me Rose."

Chapter End

There we go...after a year and a half hiatus……please don't hate me. I got side tracked with work, school and life…blah blah blah, no excuses. But I promise to go head strong with this sequel. ;)