The Supernatural Diaries {Book One}

Lost Girls: Missing Teenager

SHERIFF FORBES AND LOGAN FELL

Across town in the cemetery, the Sheriff and Logan were investigating the murders of the stoner kids that were murdered the night before by Damon (but they don't know that). "Ugh! I've never smelled one this bad before," Logan gagged, covering his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. "It tried to cover its tracks," Liz cringed.

"Are you sure?" Logan rasped as he got up and walked away from the dead bodies.

"I'm positive," she nodded. "You only burn a corpse when you're trying to hide the cause of death, and then there are no shell casings."

"Do we know who they are?" Logan asked waving in the direction of the bodies.

"The doc'll have to check their dental records," Liz replied. "What story should I run?" Logan prattled. "Drug deal gone bad?" the sheriff shrugged. Fell gave her a dubious look to which she responded with, "It's not too big a stretch." Deciding to hash out the details of their current situation later, Logan redirected their conversation to a more pressing matter. "I got the Gilbert watch," he informed. The sheriff's eyes lit up as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Good," she nodded.

"Hey," chimed the voice of another officer, as he approached the duo. "Sorry, sheriff, but I thought you might want to see this. I found it in the brush about 10 yards away." Then he handed her a small hand purse, allowing her to search through its contents. Liz investigated the handbag, rummaging through the items until she found an ID card belonging to Vicki Donovan.

"Vicki Donovan?" she pondered.

"You know her?" Logan inquired.

"I went to high school with her mother," Liz replied. Logan looked back at the array of charred corpses grimly and said, "Do you think she's one of these?" The sheriff followed his gaze and frowned. "I hope not," she sighed.

DAMON AND VICKI

Meanwhile, at the Salvatore mansion, Damon was dialing Stefan's number for the 15th time that morning, and his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "Where are you, Stefan?" he snapped, as the call went to voicemail again. "I am trapped at the house and I'm getting really bored and really impatient, and I don't do bored and impatient. Bring me my ring!" Then he hung up the phone and poured himself a glass of bourbon before walking across the foyer of the living room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damon saw a thin stream of blood ooze out of Vicki's neck onto one of the throw pillows, and the vampire let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, please don't bleed on the couch," he groaned.

Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, Damon trudged across the foyer and sat down on the end table, his electric blue eyes gazing at the wounded teenager intently. He reached out to pull the towel that was wrapped around her neck down and saw the grizzly bite mark that was etched into her skin, smirking impishly.

"Guess I got you pretty good, huh?" he mused.

Vicki made no move to respond— of course not she's unconscious!— making Damon pout slightly. "Well, you're not gonna be any fun today," he said, finishing off his drink. As the amber liquor scorched the back of his throat, a thought entered Damon's mind; and whether it was out of desperation to escape the infinite bored or because he actually thought this was a good plan, Damon got up from where he was sitting and moved to walk behind her unconscious body. Then he let his fangs come down and he bit into his forearm and placed his bleeding wrist against her mouth, urging her to drink his blood.

At first, she resisted, but eventually, she relaxed and drank greedily from his wrist.

Yeah, he was so going to regret this.