Wayward Hearts- Book 4

Part 18

Damon sat against the wall of his concrete cell, glaring at Dr. Maxfield, who was leaning against the wall opposite Damon's cell, "Just so you know, it didn't end well for the last Augustines. You're inviting bad karma in by holding me here."

"Is that what you told Dr. Whitmore?" Wes smirked.

"He wasn't one for conversation," Damon groaned slightly in pain as he adjusted his position, "so you Augustine freaks are still at it. Eye exams, that sort of thing."

"Jesse was proof that my research goes far beyond that," Wes continued to smile at Damon, proud of what he had managed to catch, "I trained him to crave vampire blood instead of human blood. Now, I'm ready to take my research to the next level. And now I have a new monster type to play with."

Wes pushed himself away from the wall and walked up the stairs, leaving Damon.

Damon moved slowly to peer into the next cell over from his through a small hole in the bottom of the wall that separated him.

"Damnit!" He banged his hands against the concrete floor when he saw the back of Emma's head, she was still out, "Come on Em, you gotta wake up."

He reached his arm through the small breach in the wall and tried to grab her arm, she was just out of reach.

Emma began to move and let out a pained groan as she rolled onto her back, her eyes were still closed, but Damon could see the pain written on her face.

"Emma," Damon called her name again.

Emma's eyes flew open and she looked in the direction of Damon's voice.

"Damon," Emma registered where he was and moved slowly to reach out for his hand, she grabbed it and kissed his fingers, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Damon assured her, "Wes injected me with vervain. I don't know what he did to you."

"It feels like the time I got injected with iron," Emma gasped as the pain continued.

Damon reached for the bar with his hand and shook it, seeing if there were any weak spots he could utilize, "Once the vervain is out of my system, I should be able to break these bars."

"Why are we here?" Emma asked quietly.

Damon pressed his lips together, "Wes is carrying out the grand Augustine tradition. Getting his kicks off vampire torture."

"That's what the freak told you?"

"He didn't have to," Damon looked into Emma's eyes before revealing his past, "I've been here before."

Emma looked at him, concerned and scared.

"Someone in my family sold me out to the Augustines in 1953. Every day, this nut job Dr. Whitmore tortured us, cut into us, took pieces of our eyes out, pushed us to every limit he could imagine, and he had quite the imagination," Emma couldn't bring herself to speak as Damon recalled his past experience, "kept me in this very cell, and don't think I haven't appreciated the irony."

"Damon," Emma squeezed his hand, showing him that she was there for him, "how long were you here?"

"Five years, give or take," Damon guessed.

Emma let out a shaky breath as she tried to wrap her head around the thought of being held here and tortured for that long, "How did you not go crazy?"

"I made a friend," Damon smiled slightly at the memory of his old cellmate, "Enzo, he was a soldier during World War II."

Damon let go of Emma's hand and stood up, looking around. Emma sat up and reached out for the bars, hoping she would have the strength to melt them. Her skin sizzled as soon as she grabbed it.