There was one thing that I knew if Damon fought Julian—he would die.

   Something a lot like fury began to swarm inside of me like winds at the beginning of a thunderstorm. It rolled from one side to the other, took everything inside of me and swept it up to my throat in need to be let out. I swallowed it down with a scoff.

   "What are you doing?" Stefan's voice was a mixture of annoyance and exasperation, the desperate want or need for his brother to hear him. "This guy's got three hundred years on you!"

   Damon wiped away the blood from his upper lip with the back of his hand. "Then it should be a good fight," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He took one last look at his brother and began to walk to his opponent.

   "Hey!" Stefan called after him, the desperation as loud as the cheers around us. "That stone is still messing with your head, Damon. Let me help you through it."

   "There's nothing to get through, Stefan," he replied. "This is what I deserve."

   A yawn escaped my mouth as I crossed my arms in front of me. "Can you be dramatic somewhere else?" My focus was on the eldest of the brothers, that certain annoyance clear in my voice. And that made me even more annoyed because that was an emotion. One I could not afford to feel, because that would lead to other emotions and I did not need that.

   "Damon, what are you talking about?" Stefan's brows were creased together, his focus solely on his brother and no one else. 

   I realised Damon had not told his brother what he had done. A little smirk formed around my lips as I took a step closer to the ring, closer to the brothers. "Was I the first person you told?" There was pure amusement in my voice, a small amount of joy at the pain it was causing him, because a part of me revelled in the thought of the brothers being in pain. Especially if it was one of them that caused it. "I think I should do the honours and tell Stefan what you did."

   "What?" The younger brother was still confused, his eyes darting from me to his brother. "What are you talking about, Clara?"

   "When does your dearest brother become so self-destructive?" I stared at Damon, the smirk in my mouth growing a little wider. "Only when he does something that warrants him so, sort of like—"

   Damon's head snapped in my direction, that perfect combination of fury and sorrow in his face that became the self-destruction he had mastered throughout the years. "If you two don't back off, I will destroy you like I've destroyed everything good I've ever touched."

   I stretched my arms in the air to stretch as a yawn left my mouth. "If you want to be so dramatic, be dramatic somewhere else," I repeated.

   Julian appeared in front of the eldest Salvatore, a look of annoyance decorating his face. He had taken off his jacket, his long-sleeved shirt pushed up to his elbows. "Will someone please escort Stefan off the premises?"

   Two vampires appeared and grabbed Stefan by his arms, pulling him back without a moment of hesitation. They were one of the few vampires that were closest to Julian, the two that were a lot like his bodyguards.

   Stefan tried to pry away from their hold. "I'm not just gonna walk away and let you fight this guy to the death!" His voice was loud even with the booing of the crowd. 

   The further he got, the boos became cheers and they became louder.

   Damon turned his back to his brother, but his voice was clear. "Doesn't look like you have much say in the matter."

   "Don't do this, Damon!" Stefan's pleads were just as clear, just as loud as the cheers. The desperation flooded out of him in a wave that even I felt, but let it pass through me. "Don't do this!" He was almost out of the alley when he looked at me. The same desperation in his voice was in his eyes, in the way they were wide and full of some panic that he only held when it came to his older brother.

   I sent him a smile and wiggled my fingers as a goodbye.

   A horrified look passed his face as he was dragged away, as vampires stepped in front of him to get a better look at the fight. 

   The smile disappeared from my mouth as I turned to face the ring once again. There was a certain kind of something that prowled inside of me at the very sight of a bloody Damon and an excited Julian prepared to fight. They both had their fists up and prepared to fight, the high of battle a mere thing that caused excitement to waft through the entire crowd like a spell. Everyone was excited, their cheers loud and clear. 

   A presence appeared at my side, their scent strong as it permeated toward me. It was the strong scent of tuberose, jasmine, and honeysuckle—I hated floral scents. 

   I held my breath as I turned to the person. "Are you here to enjoy the fight?" I asked her, "or are you searching for your next lay?"

   Krystal held out a beer bottle in my direction, an open one in her other hand. She pushed the closed one toward me and turned her body to face the ring. "Both," she simply said. She was a vampire that had been turned recently by Julian, and she took advantage of her newfound power—everything she wanted, she would get in whatever way she so desired. Her hair was long and brown, always held back with hair mousse, and an upside-down triangle pendant around her neck.

   "Which one do you see as your next conquer?" I grabbed the beer she still held out and opened it, immediately taking a large mouthful. 

   She pointed the opening of her beer toward the ring. "Him."

   "Julian might be a hard conquer," I said with an unamused chuckle. "For one, he's still sad about Lily's death."

   She shook her head. "Not Julian, but him." The opening of the bottle was pointed at the ring, to the other body that was not an old man desperate for some fun. "Damon."

   I stopped mid-swallow and lowered my beer, my hold tightening until I felt the crack of the glass beneath my palm. "Why do you think he'll go after you?" It sounded more annoyed than I wanted it to sound, more emotion than I wanted to show. "I don't think he's into brunettes at the moment."

   "Would he go after me if I dyed my hair blond like yours?" She grabbed a piece of her hair and twirled it around her finger, but her eyes were still focused on the fight. "You may have turned your humanity off, Clara, but I can see the way you lust after that man from a mile away. Maybe, I want him, too."

   "Too bad," I said as I turned my body to hers and pushed a smile to my mouth. "He's mine."

   Krystal's eyes widened as a smile began to form around her mouth. "Then, how about some friendly competition?"

   My hand when to her chin, my fingers pressing on the side of her cheeks so I could make her look at me. "Why would I compete for something that's already mine?" My voice was low and dangerous, like a snake before it would strike. "I will only repeat myself once, Krystal, so it would do you good to listen. There is no competition when who you're looking at is already mine. If you try to take something that's not yours, that's called stealing—I don't take kindly to people that take what's mine." I pinched her cheeks harder and pulled her closer to me so that she could hear my words clearly. "Damon Salvatore is mine."

   She pulled away from my hold and glared down at me. "Julian doesn't want anyone to mess with—"

   "Do you think I care what Julian has to say?" I drank what was left of the beer and let the bottle fall somewhere near me, then pushed my hands inside my pockets and took one step closer to her. "Do you think I care what he thinks he can do? I've already killed many of his followers, so a little more will do nothing." My lips quirked to one side as I leaned my head closer to her as if I were sharing a secret with her. "Do you want to test that theory?"

   Krystal was silent for a moment, staring down at me with a hint of anger in her sight. She rolled her eyes and stepped back. "Whatever," she said as she waved a hand and walked away from me. 

   The crowd began to cheer enthusiastically, the encore to the song they so desired to hear. 

   I turned to the ring to see Julian hold Damon down by the neck, his other hand right above his heart. Fingers were pointed down, prepared to dig through skin and bone to pull out the beating heart. Before his hand was all the way through the chest, Julian yelled out in pain and leaned back as he grabbed his head. 

   Stefan appeared in the ring and punched him in the face, knocking him on his back. He then turned to his brother, a horrified look on his face. "Listen to me," he said, annoyance in his tone. "If you let Julian rip your heart out, I will kill him and then every single person here will instantly rip my head off. But, you don't care, do you? Your life doesn't matter and neither does mine, does it?"

   Valerie appeared in front of them, mouthing the words of whatever spell held Julian down.

   Stefan held out his hand to his brother. "Come on, brother," he said. "Come on."

   Damon stared at the hand for a few moments before taking it. He limped by his brother, Valerie right behind them. Right before they disappeared, Damon stopped and turned back. His eyes met mine. Just for a moment, he stared at me with a kind of desperation he had only held for Elena Gilbert. 

   When I did nothing, he turned around to follow his brother and Valerie. 

   A groan came from the ring as Julian sat up, but still stumbled on his feet with a hand pressed to the side of his head. "If they come back, kill them!" he growled.

   Everyone began to part. The vampires that once crowded around the ring disappeared as soon as he finished with his tirade, only the two who had pulled Stefan away stayed behind to help Julian move. In the end, I was the only one left in the alley. The fires inside the trashcans were doused until everything was dark, not even the light from the parties they threw in the empty buildings could be seen or heard. 

   Something kept rolling inside of me when all I wanted was to feel nothing. It wanted out of my chest, through my bones and skin until it would be let out. I knew what it was, something familiar—fury. 

   I pushed my hands inside my pockets and ambled inside the bar. It was empty, only a handful of vampires in their corners as they silently drank and talked between themselves. All the conversation was about what happened between Julian and the brothers, the deaths of their friends and Sampson, and the spell that made Julian stop. The mentioned man was at the bar area, his two bodyguards on each side, and they all had a drink in front of them. 

   "Sweet Clara," Julian said when I stopped behind him, the corner of the glass against his lips, "did you enjoy the fight?"

   "I think I would have enjoyed it if it was you that ended up bloody," I said with a shrug of my shoulders. "I'd enjoy it more if you ended up dead."

   He chuckled. "Always with the dramatics," he mused as he turned around in the chair. "Why don't you have a drink?"

   As I stared at him, I felt that specific something begin to crawl up my throat. "If I had more to drink, I wouldn't be sober enough to do something that sounds very appealing." The words left my mouth as I took careful steps towards the front door of the bar, where I locked it and then turned around to face the handful of vampires that surrounded me. 

   I counted nineteen. Twenty if I added Julian in the count.

   They all stood with their eyes focused on me, full of wary. 

   Julian laughed from the bar. "I think you have forgotten that there are more of us here, sweet Clara," he said as he spread his arms to showcase the vampires that stood in front of him like guard dogs. "What you're trying to do is a death wish."

   "I told you I was a fool." I took careful steps towards the nearest vampire, laid my hand on his shoulder but kept my eyes on Julian. "I told you that this thing is on my terms." I plunged my hands into the chest of the vampire and pulled out his heart. It beat several times in my palm and quieted just as quick as the body fell to the floor. I stared at the heart for a couple of moments, the warm blood trailing down inside the sleeve of my jacket. "You should have listened."

   "I thought Damon was the only foolish one to have a death wish," Julian mused, then took a sip of his drink. He turned back around and waved a hand in the air. "Kill her."

   It was as if those magic words allowed the vampires to move.

   Eighteen pairs of hands tried to pry themselves into my chest to rip out my heart. They tore at my jacket and skin like hyenas on their prey, pulled at my limbs as if they were strong enough to pull them completely away from my body. All they wanted was to gain favour from the man they considered a leader, a favour from the man that gave them a hint of freedom. 

   Was it truly freedom, though?

   My clothes began to stick to my skin with blood as I quickly moved between vampires, hitting and pulling at whatever my hands touched first. Bodies began to loiter the floor like pieces of paper thrown in the air, landing with a thud. Their faces blurred by as they hissed at me with their fangs exposed as if they'd be able to dig them into my skin instead of gracing it as I pushed my hand deep into their chests to pull out their hearts.

   In the end, there was only one vampire standing. He sat at the bar, his back to me as he continued to drink.

   I held the heart of the last vampire I killed in the palm of my hand as I took careful steps toward him. My boots hit the floor with careful thugs, a soft squelching sound as I stepped on the blood that had spilt. If any human would see the bloodshed I had made in the bar, they would be horrified at both the scene and me. 

   I inhaled deeply, the scent of blood stronger than any other scent in the bar. When I licked my lips, it was the only thing I could taste. There was no remnant of the beers I had drank when I was in the alley, no taste of the vodka or whiskey—whatever it was that drank—before I entered the alley. All I could taste was blood. 

   Fitting for a monster such as myself. 

   I straightened my shoulder and let out a soft groan as the bones on the fingers of my right hand began to heal themselves, as I pushed my left shoulder back into its place. 

   Julian turned around to face me. 

   "Did you think I would let myself be killed?" My voice was soft, almost a whisper in the silence that enveloped the bar.

   He stood and wrapped his hand around my neck, pushing me until my back hit the wall on the other side. "I hoped you would have laid down and died like a dog!" he spat. "It would have been easier than having to kill you myself."

   "Go ahead." I pushed my hand through his chest and wrapped my hand around his heart, feeling how it beat against the palm of my hand. The beat was quick for a vampire, almost as fast as a human's heartbeat. A smile formed around my lips as I tightened my hold around his heart; my smile widened when I saw the horrified look in Julian's eyes. "Go tell Lily hello for me when you see her," I whispered as I began to pull out his heart.

   A gasp left his mouth. "Lily. . ." The hand around my neck loosened as it moved up toward my cheek.

   "Too bad you won't be able to see her." I pulled his heart out completely and watched as the grey veins began to creep up his skin, all the way up to his face as he fell to the floor in a loud thump. He was but a body at my feet. Dead. 

   I felt nothing. 

   The door to the bar was kicked open, shards of the wood flying around, and two figures ran in. One of them gasped. 

   I turned my head to them. "I killed him," I told them, raising my hand so they could see the heart I held. 

   Stefan stared at me with a horrified expression. In an instant he was in front of me, stepping over Julian's body, as his hands fell onto my cheeks and he made me look at him. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes moving everywhere. "Clara, are you okay?"

   I raised my hand to show them Julian's heart. "Didn't you hear me? I. Killed. Him."

   "Are you okay?" he repeated. 

   I pulled my face away from his hold and let out a scoff. "I'm telling you that I killed Julian and all you're asking is if I'm okay?" I laid the heart on top of a table and crossed my arms. "You've got to be kidding me."

   "You're covered in blood!" Valerie appeared by Stefan's side, her sight focused solely on me. She stared at me as if I were a monster from one of the countless stories children are told, all covered in blood and in the hunt for their next prey. 

   "I don't think it would have been a clean fight when it was twenty vampires against little ol' me." I pointed at myself with my hands and fluttered my lashes as if I were innocent. "It would have been more surprising if I weren't covered in blood because that would mean I'd be dead."

   Valerie took a step forward and nodded. "Okay, fine. Now that Julian's dead, turn on your humanity."

   "No."

   Stefan stepped forward, right by Valerie. "Why not?"

   "Why would I want to turn on my humanity?" I tilted my head to the side and raised both of my brows. "Anyway, where's your brother?"

   Stefan ran a hand through his face. "Did you know?" he asked. "Did you know what he did to Elena?"

   "He burned her alive," I said with a wave of my hand. "Isn't the stone doing something with his head? It's not very brotherly of you to not help him, or whatever it was you said you wanted to do."

   He stared at me for a long moment, his mouth slightly open as he began to shake his head. "Aren't you worried?" he asked. "Don't you feel at least something knowing that Elena is dead?"

   "Why should I feel something?" I leaned back against the table and crossed my arms in front of me. It was then that I noticed the torn sleeves of my jacket and the blood that decorated my arms as if I had bathed in it. "What has Elena done for me that I should feel something over her death?"

   "This isn't you!" 

   "This is me," I said. "This is me without humanity, not caring about—"

   "You cared about Damon," he quickly said, cutting me off. "You cared about Damon enough that you helped him against that guy and tried to stop him from fighting Julian."

   "Who is now dead—you're welcome." I pointed at Valerie with my chin. "And I didn't need a spell to do it."

   She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's worthless, Stefan," she said. "She's not going to turn on her humanity."

   I pointed at her with my finger and nodded. "You should listen to Girlfriend Number Two," I said. "I would have called her Number Three, but, oh well." I shrugged my shoulders as I pushed myself away from the table, making my way to the broken front door. "Oh, you might want to find an excuse as to why there are so many bodies here and why Julian's heart is out of his chest. The rest might want to retaliate."

   The cold air made the blood dry on my clothes and skin with each step I took further away from the bar and downtown. I felt its harshness on my face, the way it hardened around my mouth and made it hard for me to move it. Yet, that didn't bother me. It didn't stop me. I went toward where I had not gone to since I turned off my humanity, to the place that had been as close to a home in the months the town had been empty of mortal life—the Lockwood Mansion. 

   The grand house was dark when I entered, but there was a dim light dancing from the parlour. The scent of burnt wood was the only thing I could smell, with a hint of alcohol. 

   "You can stop worrying, Stefan," Damon said from where the fireplace was lit. "I didn't turn off my humanity."

   I entered the room and crossed my arms, leaning against the doorway. "Wrong person," I told him. 

   He turned around and stared at me, the cup of bourbon full in his hand. "What the hell happened to you?" His eyes moved from the top of my head to my feet, searching for something. When he didn't find it, he let out a breath from his mouth and brought the cup to his mouth to take a mouthful. "Why are you covered in blood?"

   "I killed Julian."

   He stopped mid-drink and slowly lowered the cup as he took careful steps toward me. "What?" He laid the cup on some table and closed the distance, his hands on my cheeks just like his brother had done when he first saw me covered in blood. "Clara, what did you do?"

   "I killed Julian," I slowly repeated. It surprised me that I didn't feel the need to pull away from his touch as I did with his brother. There was something inside of me telling me to seep into his touch and allow myself a small moment of warmth.

   And for the hundredth time when it came to him, I listened.

   His thumb moved gently from the centre of my cheek down, as if to brush away a bit of the blood. "You're an idiot," he said, shaking his head. There was no anger in his tone, just pure tiredness. It was a sombre sound, the way his voice held a perfect combination of tired and sad and angry. "You are a stupid idiot, Clara Forbes. Why did you kill him?"

   My brows furrowed. "Isn't that what everyone wanted? Didn't everyone want Julian dead so the town would finally be free?"

   "What about you?"

   "Me? What about me?"

   "What is it going to do to you when you turn on your humanity?" His fingers curled behind my ears and his thumbs continued to gently stroke my cheeks. 

   A smile formed around my mouth. "Who says I'm going to turn on my humanity?"

   His brows furrowed. "Julian's gone, you don't have to—"

   "What about everything else?" I asked. I wanted to step away from his touch, but there was that something inside of me that told me to stay and continue to enjoy it because when would Damon ever be soft with me again?

   "Everything else?"

   "I don't have to feel anything," I reminded him. "Why would I want to turn it on when all I felt with my humanity was some kind of pain?"

   He shook his head. "This isn't you, Clara."

   "Then, who am I?" I took steps back from his touch until I was at the other side of the room. "Since you know so much about me, amuse me." I decided to take a seat on the armchair and crossed my legs, leaning back. The warmth from the fireplace hit my side, making the blood on my skin feel uncomfortable but I didn't move. I wanted to listen to what he had to say.

   Damon took a step back to grab the glass of alcohol he had left on the table, he took a mouthful and smacked his lips together. "You're Clara Lenora Forbes," he began, "born to William and Margaret Forbes on February 5th, 1845. You had two brothers and two sisters, but you were closest to Charlotte out of all of them. Your grandmother was named Geillis and your grandfather was named Angus." With each word that left his mouth, he took careful steps until he stood in front of me. He handed me his glass of alcohol and leaned down, his hands on the arms of the chair and his face close to mine. "You died days after your nineteenth birthday, killed by the infamous Katherine Pierce."

   It was a speech I had heard before.

   "Facts that anyone can name," I said. "I thought you'd know me more since you claim to know who I—"

   "You're the most stubborn person I have met in my entire existence," he interrupted me, "and I have met many others that could rival that but you win. Whenever you're angry or frustrated, you run a hand through your hair. Whenever you lie, you start to tug at your ear." He leaned too close, his lips brushing against mine. "When you're in love, you have a smile that's barely there when you look at that person...  And, right now..."

   "What?" If I moved, his lips would fall against mine.

   "And right now, I want you to turn on your humanity so you can look at me with that barely-there smile."

   There it was. That something that kept surging inside of me like waves in a storm clashing against my insides to tear it apart. It became a hurricane with Damon being so close. The winds continued to tear at my insides until I felt something other than the nothingness I had become accustomed to in the past few weeks. 

   My hand moved to his cheek, that something inside of me guiding it to gently lay there. "Why are you so sure that the smile you claim I have when I'm in love is for you?"

   He leaned into my hand. "Because I have looked at you since the first time I laid my eyes on you, Clara," he softly said.

   For the first time since I turned off my humanity, I allowed that something to push itself through and control me. I leaned up and kissed him. The way his lips moulded against mine felt like a memory I had been trying to recall, one that I shouldn't have forgotten. 

   His hand moved to my cheek and then his fingers curled in my hair as he pulled me closer to him, his other hand falling on my waist to pull me up to stand. Fingers pressed into my skin to leave an imprint, the way they pushed beneath my shirt just to be closer.

   And I didn't mind. 

   I wanted more. 

   Damon pulled away from me, his breath against my mouth. "If you want to sleep with me, Clara, you better take a shower."

   An actual chuckle left my mouth. "Are you offering to shower with me?"

   He grabbed my hand and began to pull me away, in the direction of the bathroom in the master bedroom. Once we were inside, he closed the door behind me and grabbed my hand once again, this time to pull me back against him to kiss me. It was some kind of desperate kiss. The way his hands pulled my jacket off, the way they pressed into my skin as he pulled off my shirt and threw it somewhere in the room.

   It didn't feel wrong.

   When my back hit the wall by the door that led to the bathroom, I pulled away from him and let out a soft chuckle as my pointer finger wrapped around the belt loop of his pants. "When you're inside me, I want you to moan my name," I said as I pulled him closer to me. "If I hear any other name, I will kill you."

   He leaned down, his lips brushing against my own with a hint of something that could be considered a smile. "Yes, ma'am." And he kissed me again.