Forever; The Devil's Angel

Markowitz...what? Who? He didn't even knew what it meant? The name...it didn't ring any bell, he was sure he had never heard it before in his life but then, a nerve in his head pulsated fast as it really was the answer he was looking for.

"Hello? Who is it?" the voice asked again but he was frozen, his mind working at double the pace but nothing made sense and he couldn't form a single sentence. What would he say? What should he say?

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Hello," the voice came again. Damon sighed as he ended the call and threw the phone to meet the wall in frustration. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was everything hazy and unclear?

"Damon?" Aaron poked his head through the door and Damon tilted his head to look at him. He had stopped using magic to make himself look younger. Damon didn't knew why? Why stop when you've been doing it for so long but he never asked? It wasn't his place to ask.

"Yeah," he replied, surprised that his voice still held some frustration.

"Is everything ok?" Aaron asked opening the door further, the sound of it against the wooden floor made Damon cringe as he led himself in.

"Yep. Peachy," Damon smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. Aaron noticed it though. He had noticed all of them and it always cast a gloomy spell on him that ever since Mia had left, Damon hadn't really smiled except when he was outside, counting the stars or whatever he did during his long, silent companionship with the night sky.

“What happened?" he asked as he seated himself on the chair and Damon sat up in the bed, raking his fingers through his hair.

"Nothing," Damon shrugged. He wasn't ready though he knew that Aaron might be able to answer the questions he had but something in him told him not to take the guy in confidence. He still wasn't a very big fan of him though he knew by now that the guy wasn't all bad.

"I found this grimoire," Aaron said as he handed him an old book with brown cover. It was so old, it felt as if it would be tattered with a single touch. Damon eyes the book as he gently placed it on the bed and flipped it open. Symbols...there were a lot of symbols and Damon flashed his eyebrows and sighed.

"I still don't get it," he chuckled and shook his head, "All these symbols and numbers and then all these letters," he pointed them on the page to Aaron. "It's just all so creepy."

"They all are different spells and all. Warnings and foretelling, predictions they made," Aaron inched forward, explaining to Damon like a mentor to a student, "Every bloodline of warlocks was different. All excelled in some powers while they lacked in others. They had their own specialties and own discoveries. These symbols..." he pointed at them but kept his eyes on Damon, "These symbols were different too so that the others wouldn't steal their hard work," he shrugged.

"What's the point?" Damon asked, "They couldn't use it if they didn't had any power to actually carry out a spell."

"But you always can though," Aaron smiled, "You can," he pointed at Damon who raised his eyebrows at him. "Come on, Damon. We know that you've been able to do some stuff like a pro in a very short amount of time which is why," he paused as he patted the book, "I'm giving you this. Check it out. Learn some more, try some more."

Damon chuckled, "Aren't you a charming teacher?"

Aaron dismissed him a wave of his hand, "Well, I try," he shrugged with a chuckle," Figure out the symbols and rest is good," he smiled as he shut the door behind him.

Symbols....hidden meanings...message. The words jumbled up in mind and exploded with a loud burst, shaking him whole. 139114751215. 139114751215. The same numbers were swirling in his mind. What if they were more than a phone number? What if they held a hidden message? What if it was a code? Damon got up as he rushed outside.

"Did you find anything?" Aaron asked as Damon passed him and went into the library.

"Maybe," Damon mumbled. Though he didn’t believe his words so much, there was an electrical buzz in his body which told him he was close at finding something and the excitement that bubbled with anticipation was a little too hard for him to control.

He constantly tapped his fingers on the wooden mahogany table as he waited for the computer set to boot up. He started his search on his number, looking through different sites and pages, hoping to finally get some clue about it.

The clock was ticking and his patience was wearing. Damon closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He still hadn't found anything except that he had stumbled upon the site of Sherlock Holmes. He wondered for a moment that he would have sent the number to that guy if he were not a fictional character but he really had no luck and thought to totally give it up.

'Sometimes the answer is right in front of you but you're looking so closely at one side of the angle that you forget the simplicity of the answer and turn it into a complicated web of tangled confusion.' Damon stared at the quote and snorted as he shut it and got up to leave. He wondered how he got there and the answer was simple, yes, his life was becoming a complicated web of tangled confusions.

"Did you find anything?" Aaron asked and Damon shrugged as he went and stood in front of fridge, looking over the things. "How's it going?" he asked again.

"It's fine," Damon rolled his eyes. He wanted to go home. The guy just wouldn't stop talking and he wished he could compel him to shut up.

"Not A1?" Aaron asked, his eyes still on the book he was reading.

"A1?" Damon scoffed as he turned his wide eyes on him, "Who in the hell says A1, nowadays?"

"I do," Aaron smiled, he glanced at Damon and smiled as he turned his attention back to his book.

Damon shook his head, "Well, it's more in the B2 category," he said as he waited for a reaction and just like he expected, Aaron snapped his eyes to look at him and placed a bookmark in his book.

"B2?" he looked incredulously at Damon.

"I say it," Damon shrugged as he put the lasagna in the microwave to heat, "Like 'B' grade work."

Aaron chuckled, "Right. Who am I to argue?" Damon shrugged and clicked his tongue, "Don't make it into C3," Aaron remarked as he went to pick up his book.

"Ok, it's getting...lame," he commented and seated himself as he took the first bite into his mouth. It still felt weird that he had to properly eat. Blood was easy and required a lot less effort than human food.

He thought back to his phone call. Markowitz...the name sounded familiar at the same time, it sounded completely foreign to him and the fact that he couldn't talk to someone about the damn problem was frustrating.

Then, there was his conversation with Elena and Aaron who tried to make small talks with him as with a child to know if anything wasn't bothering him. He sighed as he thought back to all his conversations with Aaron. None was meaningful and he asked every time if he was fine. What was he expecting? And A1...really? Whoa…hold on. That's when it hit him. It was simple all along.

'Sometimes the answer is right in front of you', 'you forget the simplicity of the answer'.

His chair screeched on the floor as Damon got up and ran to his room. He was aware of Aaron calling him but he could care less about it. He knew what he had to do. He quickly grabbed a paper and a pen as he jumped on his bed. He assigned each alphabet a number like A1, B2, C3 and so on. He just hoped it would give him some sort of an answer.

139114751215. He wrote the very eerily familiar number on the top of page and he began to decrypt it. The room was getting cold by the minute despite the fact that sunlight was still filtering in. He decided to put it on his nerves. He had to know the meaning and he felt as if he was doing the right thing.

ACIAADGEABAE. Nothing. It still made no sense. The air was thickening with every breath he took. There had to be something. There could be a million combinations and stuff that could go through and fit that number but none, still none.

He tried again...and again and again until he found his heart skip a beat. He felt that lightheadedness and a little dizziness that shook everything in his brain.

13M, 9I, 1A. Mia...Mia. The world was spinning, his heart was racing, his palms were sweating and his breath came in short gasps. He knew that name. He was sure of it but he couldn't place a face to it. Mia...the name sounded so sweet, so innocent and naive and it had some ability to send him into some kind of rushing frenzy yet, he knew nothing of it.

He closed his eyes and the same color invaded his senses. Chocolate. Chocolate brown. The hair, the eyes...it was that same enchanting color but he still couldn't put everything together. He was sure about the memory block on his mind now. Whatever it was, he knew it had to do so something with this name and maybe, it could be connected to another name that give him same feelings, not the same rush but very close feeling.

Markowitz.

Mia Markowitz.

Damon sat up straighter as he raked his fingers through his hair and dapped his forehead of sweat as he launched himself again into decoding the rest of the thing. He didn't know how long it had been, his room was getting darker now. He looked at the candle on the side table and willed it to burn itself. He smiled when it did. Good, there was something good about being a warlock.

He was thirsty and he was hungry. He was also frustrated to the worst degree but he didn't want to leave it. He knew he was close. The feeling of triumph was just lingering around the corner and he wanted to grab it so hard. 14N, 7G, 5E, 12L, 15O. Ngelo...Ngelo. He groaned loudly. What the hell is ngelo?

He took a deep breath as put both the things into order. 139114751215. Miangelo. He looked at the words hard, his eyes squinting. He could hear the cog wheels turning in his mind. The very same rush returned and buzzed deep in his skin.

"Mia," he tried the name on his tongue, "Mia...mia. Mia-ngelo," his eyes widen, his eyes unfocused, "Mi angelo," he drew in a shaky breath. It was Italian for...

"My angel," he murmured to himself. "Mia...miangelo. My angel."