Roots and Wings

Damon swore as he stumbled through the wooded grove between suburbia and the town. His arm was gauged apart and he needed to find someone to sink his teeth into. Of course the wound wasn’t fatal, but it hurt like a bitch. He glared down at the tear in his leather jacket, and found himself even more pissed. That jacket was Armani, one of a fucking kind.

The question still running through his mind was what had attacked him. He hadn’t gotten that great of a glimpse of it, but it had been big and it had been black. He remembered glowing eyes…or maybe just really yellow florescent eyes. On a normal occasion he would’ve just torn the animal apart but this…. thing whatever it was, was smart.

The second Damon had regained his senses the animal leaped over him and took off. It was too far for Damon to follow. And he didn’t care, because he had more important problems than some pest problem. He needed to find that pretty little brunette from the convenience store, and shake some answers out of her.

She knew about him, that was the only obvious answer. Compulsion only didn’t work if the one being compelled had taken vervaine, and there was honestly no reason to take vervaine unless you were warding against vampires. If she knew his brother than that was an even bigger problem.

Lucky for him, she had a very distinct scent and it wasn’t long before he was standing in front of her doorstep.