Chapter 18: Road trip
The road stretched out before them like a never-ending ribbon, the 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu humming under Sam's control. The blood-red classic car cruised down the highway, its rumble a familiar comfort to him but an invitation to Katherine's mischief. She sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, leaning toward him with a playful smile. Her curly brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, catching the sunlight as her dark almond-shaped eyes glinted with amusement.
"You know, Sam," Katherine purred, her voice dripping with seduction, "you don't have to keep your eyes glued to the road the whole time. I'm right here."
Sam kept his focus on the horizon, ignoring her comment. He had gotten used to her games by now. Ever since they'd started this road trip to Monroe, North Carolina, she'd been relentless. Flirting, teasing, testing his patience. He wasn't in the mood to play, but Katherine enjoyed the chase—especially when her target wasn't interested.
She continued anyway, undeterred by his silence. "I spy with my little eye... something red."
Sam clenched the steering wheel tighter, his jaw set. "The car, obviously."
"You're no fun," she sighed, dramatically leaning back into the leather seat, her finger tracing a circle on the window. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she suddenly slapped his arm, "Yellow car!"
Sam flinched, momentarily shifting in his seat. "You've got to be kidding me. We're still doing this?"
Katherine grinned, her lips parting in satisfaction. "Of course. You just make it too easy to win."
Without another word, Sam turned up the volume on the stereo, hoping the music would drown her out. 50 Cent's "In Da Club" thumped through the speakers, bringing a nostalgic smirk to his face. Katherine, though, swayed her shoulders to the rhythm, sending glances his way in between lyrics. She was always dancing to her own tune—if not the world's.
As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the road, they finally pulled into a small suburban neighborhood lined with trees beginning to darken. Sam parked the car outside a modest, cozy-looking house. The porch light flickered on, as though welcoming them.
"This is it," Sam muttered, stepping out of the car. Katherine slipped out beside him, adjusting her coat and brushing her hand casually against his arm as if daring him to react. He didn't. She rolled her eyes but followed him up the steps anyway, her heels clicking against the wood.
Sam rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the house. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal Abby Bennett. She hadn't changed much—still beautiful with her almond-shaped eyes and long brown hair, though her face bore more worry than it had when Sam last saw her. The moment her eyes landed on him, recognition sparked, and a warm, surprised smile spread across her face.
"Sam?" Abby asked, her voice soft yet full of surprise. "Is that really you? You've... grown."
Sam returned her smile, nodding. "Yeah. It's been a while. You used to babysit me, remember?"
Abby's eyes widened with nostalgia. "Of course I remember. You were just a scrawny little thing back then. Now look at you—Yale and everything."
"Yale, huh?" Katherine interrupted, stepping forward with her sultry smile. "I had no idea. I must say, it makes you even more intriguing, Sam." She looped her arm through his, leaning in far too close for comfort.
Abby's eyes shifted between them, her smile faltering only slightly before she regained her composure. "Well, come on in, both of you."
The house was exactly as Sam remembered—warm, lived-in, with just a hint of herbal scents lingering in the air. As soon as they stepped inside, Katherine wandered off, making her way through the rooms as if she owned the place. Sam stayed back, watching as Abby pulled him aside, her expression shifting into something more serious.
"Sam," Abby whispered, her eyes scanning the hallway where Katherine had disappeared. "Did you come because Bonnie asked? Or... is she here?"
Sam's heart sank. He knew Bonnie was a sore spot for Abby. He shook his head. "No. It's just me."
Abby exhaled a breath of relief, though there was sadness in her eyes. "I... I see."
Without another word, she moved to the kitchen, the tension between them thick but unspoken. Sam followed, leaning against the counter as Abby brewed coffee. They exchanged small talk—questions about his time at Yale, life in Mystic Falls, and inevitably, Bonnie. Every mention of her name made Abby's expression flicker with guilt and regret, though she did her best to hide it.
When Abby finally returned to the living room with the coffee, Katherine was lounging on the couch, inspecting the house with a bored look. "Took you long enough," she said, accepting the cup without so much as a thank you.
Sam barely had time to take a sip before he noticed something shift in Katherine's demeanor. Her eyes glinted dangerously, and before he could stop her, she moved faster than the eye could see, compelling Abby with nothing more than a glance.
"Abby, be a dear and tell me if you can do a tracking spell. I've got something special for you," Katherine purred, pulling out an ornate sword that shimmered faintly.
Abby's face went blank, her voice flat as she answered, "I can't. I lost my magic. Dark magic… it took everything."
Katherine's eyes darkened, frustration flashing across her face. "Useless," she hissed, speeding forward, fangs bared as she sank them into Abby's neck, drawing a drop of blood before she froze, hearing the sound of a gun chamber being cocked.
Sam had moved in a heartbeat, standing there with a wooden-bullet-loaded gun aimed right at Katherine's heart. "Let her go."
Katherine let out a low, dangerous laugh, licking the drop of blood from her lips. "You're no fun, Sam. I was just getting started."
"Now," Sam said, his voice firm but controlled.
She paused, letting go of Abby, but the smirk never left her face. "Fine. But only because you're the one asking." She backed off, though her eyes still gleamed with mischief.
Sam moved to Abby, grabbing a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the kitchen and gently cleaning the wound. He worked in silence, his fingers steady as he applied the bandage. Abby, still recovering from the compulsion, blinked up at him in gratitude.
Katherine, lounging again on the couch, looked between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. "So, Abby," she asked, now genuinely curious, "how exactly did you lose your magic? Must've been something big."
Abby, her voice steadier now, sighed. "I used dark magic to seal Mikael's tomb. The black magic… it took everything from me."
Katherine's eyes widened, a sudden thrill flashing through her. "Mikael's tomb? Where?"
"Pickett Mausoleum," Abby whispered. "Charlotte, North Carolina. The oldest wing of the cemetery."
As the words hung in the air, somewhere on the highway, Enzo sped down the road in his black Ford Mustang, a devilish smile on his face as he glanced back at the trunk where Lucy Bennett lay tied up, her muffled protests drowned out by the sound of the blues blaring from the speakers. The Pickett Mausoleum was only ten miles away.