Damon and I remained in the cell for several minutes after the man left, too stunned to even contemplate escaping. The guards didn't come back in with the keys. I didn't blame them.
I cursed, slamming the bars. It seemed that no matter what I decided to do, which way I turned, things got worse. And the Sutherlands... they had just been innocent bystanders, swept up in the path of destruction just because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. While my brother didn't actively cause their deaths, he was no less responsible. I turned on him, ready to tear him apart.
And then I saw the look on his face.
Damon's eyes had glazed over and he leaned against the wall for support. He'd worn the same dazed expression for weeks after he'd woken up as a vampire and discovered that Katherine was dead.
"What was that?" he whispered, finally looking at me.
But I had no idea what that was. All I knew was that it was more powerful, more dangerous, more deadly than any creature I'd ever encountered. Anger at my brother drained away and something like exhaustion set in. "I'm not sure, though I think he left me a message," I said, remembering the bloody scrawl on the side of the Sutherlands' home. "But what was that about Katherine? What was he to her?"
Damon shrugged. "I have no idea. She never told me about that... thing."
"He said we took her from him. What the hell does that mean? What curse is he talking about? Did Emily cast a spell on someone?" I said. I began to pace, my mind racing.
"I'm guessing it means he believes we killed her. Which you did, brother," Damon said.
In a pique, Damon sat down, stretched his legs out, and put his hands behind his head, pillowing it against the stone. I would get no more answers out of him.
I slid down against the bars and buried my head in my hands, thinking of my time with Katherine. Had she ever said anything about her past? Let anything slip? But I had been so completely under her thrall that it was impossible to know what had been real and what she had compelled me to believe. Though I remembered biting her, I didn't have any memory of her feeding me her blood. But she must have often, as I had enough of her blood in my system to come back as a vampire after my father shot me. In a funny way, Katherine had made me. We were almost like her children.
My mind snagged. "Did Katherine ever tell you about her sire?" I asked, putting words to a horrible thought forming in my mind. "The vampire who made her?"
Damon looked up at me, shocked out of his sulk. "You think... ?"
I nodded.
Damon leaned back and knocked his head against the wall. He had been genuinely in love with Katherine. I wondered if meeting Katherine's maker made our little tryst in Mystic Falls seem like a speck in the vastness of eternity.
"I suppose we should call a guard over and compel him to free us," he said tiredly.
A sound of commotion from the lobby stopped us. There were muffled thuds, like bodies hitting the floor.
There was a scream. It was high-pitched and hard to tell whether it came from a woman or a man, so great was the pain. Then came the grating sound of a desk being moved, and what might have been a wooden chair being shattered against the wall.
I stood. So did Damon.