Bloody Rhapsody (Damon Salvatore Love)

33. Vampires and Evil Guides

--------------Damon POV--------------

 "It's starting to hurt," Zeke mumbles, his voice low and wavering with a fear that he is trying so hard to hide.

  My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, trying to remain vigilant, but unable to ignore the strain in his voice. I glance in my rear-view mirror, watching him as his body trembles in the seat behind mine. He has paled immensely since we first climbed into the car, his essence seemingly ebbing away from him. His eyes are dull, hardly focusing as he gazes down at the bloody script in his lap.

  I assumed his curiosity would have had him flipping through the pages, but the idea never even seemed to occur to him. Instead, he sits transfixed with his task, his focus never wavering from our purpose. In the beginning, he was adamant with his directions. Telling us instantly when we must have made a wrong move, twisting frantically in his seat to find the vibrating pulse that calls to the loathsome journal.

  Many times he would shriek for us to stop when the connection dropped. My eagerness to find Nereza making me quick to respond, slamming on the brakes and jostling everyone in their seats. There were a few shouts of surprise, but no one dared complain. Everyone felt the dwindling of time, the unease clawing at our hearts with each wrong turn.

  It was more difficult to follow the sensation than I had anticipated. The gruesome diary knew nothing of roads, only pulling us straight towards its destination. When we would hit a bend, our entire group would tense as we desperately searched for a route that brought us to where we needed to go.

  Many times I silently cursed the wretched thing, my irritation only growing with each wasted moment. If only I could gather it in my arms, feel its allure for myself. I am certain if I were able to just run to where it wanted to go, I would have been there by now. With Zeke however, walking is out of the question. At his best, it would still take him hours to walk out of the forest we were in, who knows how long to find the source of the beckoning. As he is now, I fear his weak and tired legs wouldn't even be able to hold him.

  "What do you mean?" Elena asks, twisting her body in the backseat so that she is completely facing him.

  "The pulling," he answers, his words almost lost as a violent chill courses through his body.

  "He isn't looking too good," Stefan mumbles under his breath, just loud enough for Elena and I to hear.

  I spare a glance beside me, but my brother does not meet my eye. He is turned in his seat, his hard gaze following every twitch of Zeke's body, analyzing his every labored breath. Worry shadows Stefan's face, his lips set in a tight line as he tries to catch Zeke's eye.

  "Why don't you take a break," Stefan finally suggests, his voice on the verge of commanding, "just set the thing down for a moment."

  "No," Zeke breathes out, not even looking up to us as he turns slightly in his seat to retain the connection.

  "Come on, you need to regain your strength," Elena encourages, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm.

  "No," Zeke grunts, jerking his arm out of her touch with as much ferocity as he is able to manage.

  "Zeke," Elena tries again, but her words falter as he starts violently shaking his head from side to side.

  "No," Zeke announces, narrowing his eyes at her with determination, "I can't stop, not until we find her."

  "How much longer can you go on like this?" Stefan pushes, not taking his eyes off of him.

  "As long as I need to," Zeke answers softly, turning to look out the window.