*[Chapter Thirty-Three]*

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*strong language*

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*strong language*

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The suns heat bared down on Darcy's heated skin as her foot floored down on the accelerator, the hightailing velocity merging with the breeze fluttering through the wind-downed window, sending inky strands sailing around. The tyres screeched to a halt kicking up a cloud of dust as muttered curses emitted from her lips, seeing the familiar car in the long driveway. Wasting no time, she kicked open the driver's door and marched over to the trunk of the hazard parked car. Elena doesn't have any of her hunting gear in her vehicle, and she's sure Alaric won't mind if she helps herself. Unlatching the trunk, she hauls it up and sped open the black duffel bag with a hasty verve, disclosing several of the teacher's equipment. A thrill swept down her spine as her hand grasped a wooden stake.

Go time.

Darcy dashed through the front door, boots shrieking against the wooden floor as she skidded to cease at the threshold of the lounge. Her gaze widened, watching Damon set down his glass tumbler just as Alaric launched a stake at him. Her heart leapt, and before she knew it, her legs rushed between the pair, her stake-free hand resting on Alaric's torso. She pushed him back and turned, so her back met his front, and her glare locked on Damon. "You just don't know how to stop, do you?"

Damon narrowed his eyes, throwing his hands up. "Don't blame me. He came to me!"

"You killed his wife!" Darcy exclaimed, pointing the stake between their bodies, and before she knew it, she was falling, her body thrown to the side, chest hitting the floor, and the stake ripped from her grasp. She groaned, rubbing off the sting, her clenched palm brushing against her necklace that had slipped from under its disguise of her shirt. Jumping back to her feet, Darcy cursed as Damon stabbed Alaric in the stomach. She watched as he dropped to his knees, groaning in agony.

"What the hell, Damon?" she yelled, whirling around at the angry vampire. She strides forward as he advanced towards the fallen hunter.

"He pushed you!" Damon shouted in return like it was a valid excuse to stab the man.

Darcy glanced over her shoulder as Alaric clambered to his feet, gripping the embedded stake. "Where's Isobel? What have you done to my wife?" he demanded breathlessly.

A smirk adorned Damon's smug lips. "You want me to tell you I killed her? Would that make you happy? Because I think you know what happened," he gloated, slithering his way towards them, stopping two steps away from Darcy, trapping her between them.

"I saw you were feeding on her," Alaric stated, his fierce stare flickering from the smug vampire and the female hunter. He moved closer to the girl, not wanting her to get hurt.

"Yeah. I did, and I wasn't lying. She was delicious. Oh, come on! What do you think happened? Not and inkling? Never considered the possibility," he paused, stare fixed on the wounded man. "I turned her."

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