An Elemental Difference - FIRE - Book 2 (Stefan Salvatore)

Chapter 72 - My eyes are never wrong about ugly colors

ISOBEL'S RESIDENCE

The grandeur of the Neoclassical Revival house loomed over them, a relic of the past standing tall amidst the modern streets of Mystic Falls. Its ivory façade, adorned with majestic columns, exuded an air of elegance and opulence that seemed almost out of place in the quiet town. Built in the 1920s, it held a legacy that whispered of bygone eras and untold stories, its walls bearing witness to the passage of time. The rich legacy of the house seemed to mirror Isobel's own complicated past – a past marked by abandonment and transformation.

Stefan, Aella, and Damon pulled up outside the imposing structure, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Stefan's eyes scanned the exterior with interest, taking in the intricate details of the architecture. "This is the house?"

Damon, however, wore a scowl, his gaze fixed on the imposing structure before them. "Pixie's out of action, considering she thinks Brad Pitt is the best-looking vampire she's ever seen," he remarked with a roll of his eyes, ignoring Aella's protests. "So until Bonnie is able to find Elena, this is our best chance. This is the nicest foreclosure in town."

Aella's disdain for the house was evident as she glared out of the back window. "I hate it; it's so grey."

Stefan shot her a bemused look; his brow raised in amusement and slight concern. "It's white. Do we need to take you to the hospital?"

"Pfft, bitch please," Aella retorted dismissively, though a wave of dizziness washed over her at the small movement. "I ain't letting that jackass win. Plus, it's grey; my eyes are never wrong about ugly colors." Her gaze narrowed on Stefan's shirt, her lips twisting into a playful smirk. "Like that shirt, did we not throw that one away because it made you look a bit pale?"

"He's dead," Damon interjected dryly, his attention still fixed on the house before them. "Of course, he's pale."

Aella pulled a face at the back of Damon's head, a sudden wave of nausea washing over her. "No need to be cruel, you Vampire Gigolo," she muttered under her breath, her stomach churning uncomfortably. She flicked the back of his head, though Damon barely reacted. Aella's complexion paled even further, a queasy sensation settling in the pit of her stomach. "Ugh, I don't feel so good. Ima lie down."

With a groan, Aella lowered herself onto the backseat, her movements slow and labored. Stefan watched her with concern, his brow furrowing in worry, while Damon merely smirked at the nickname she had bestowed upon him, "Vampire Gigolo, I like that one."

"Stay here," Stefan instructed firmly, though Aella waved him away with another groan.

Leaving Aella to rest, Stefan and Damon made their way towards the house, their footsteps echoing against the pavement. Damon squinted up at the foreclosed property, a frown creasing his brow. "You know, I'm starting to see more grey than white."

Stefan rolled his eyes, a sense of foreboding settling over him. "It sounds like Isobel played us all. I swear to God if she's not here..."

"Don't be such a pessimist," Damon chided, though there was an underlying tension in his voice.

Entering the house, they listened intently for any signs of movement, their senses on high alert. Stefan nodded towards the grand staircase, his expression determined. "I'll go upstairs."

As Stefan ascended the stairs, Damon remained on the ground floor, his eyes scanning the rooms for any trace of their quarry. It soon became apparent that the house was deserted, but they couldn't afford to let their guard down. Stefan's previous oversight with Ben served as a stark reminder of the dangers they faced.

Joining Damon in a room filled with covered furniture, Stefan's attention was drawn to a collection of luxury luggage – Isobel's belongings. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, his voice tinged with irritation. "This is Isobel's stuff. It's definitely the right place."