Interogation 101

Stefan waited at the school gate, his gaze locked on the parking lot. He spotted Elena weaving through the crowd, her smile lighting up her face. But as her eyes found him, her expression shifted. Whatever she saw on his face made her quicken her pace.

"What's wrong?" she asked the moment she reached him.

Stefan glanced around the schoolyard, leaning closer as if he didn't want anyone to overhear. "There's a new vampire in town."

Elena froze, her smile completely gone now. "What?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Stefan reached out, taking her hand in his. "We're working on it," he assured her. "I just came to give you a heads-up."

Her brows furrowed. "We? Who's 'we'?"

Meanwhile…

Damon slouched against the roof of my car, his head tilted back as he huffed dramatically. "Why are we asking her? Seriously. There's gotta be someone else."

I leaned against the door, arms crossed. "Elena's off the table, and Bonnie's our best option.

He snorted, shaking his head. "And whose fault is that?"

Before I could respond, I saw her coming up the street, her pace steady and deliberate. Damon straightened, his gaze sharpening as Bonnie approached. She clutched her bag to her side like a shield, her mouth set in a determined line.

"What do I need to do?" she asked, stopping in front of us. Her voice was steady, but I caught the tension in her shoulders.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the compass, its bronze casing catching the light. I handed it to her, watching as her fingers brushed over the surface. Her brows knit together as she held it, clearly sensing the magic inside.

"Is this—?" she started.

I nodded. "It'll track the vampire," I explained. "All you have to do is walk around, and the compass will point the way."

Bonnie frowned, turning the compass over in her hand. "So… I just walk around the whole town?"

I chuckled, pulling a folded map from inside the car. I spread it out on the hood and pointed to the X's I'd marked earlier. "Not exactly. These are the last known locations of the victims. The attacks look random, but they're not. Whoever's doing this needs somewhere to hide the bodies. It has to be secluded—somewhere like a warehouse or an old farm."

She traced the marks on the map with her finger. "God, that's a lot of X's."

"Yeah," I said, refolding the map and slipping it into my jacket. "Either they don't know how to feed, or…"

Her head snapped up, her brows arching. "Or?"

"Or they don't want to stop," I finished grimly. "Either way, it's bad. Will you help us?"

Bonnie straightened her shoulders, the determination in her gaze hardening. "I'll help."

Damon snarked. "Good. Let's catch ourselves a vampire."

Later…

Damon and I sat in the car, watching Bonnie as she paced through the area with the compass in her hands. I had her on speakerphone, just in case. Damon, naturally, was sulking in the passenger seat.

"Stop pouting," I said, glancing at him with a smirk.

He shot me a dark look. "If you hadn't given Caroline vervain, I would've already taken care of this."

Bonnie's voice crackled through the phone. "You know I can hear you, right?"

Damon leaned closer to the speaker, his smirk widening. "I don't care, Bonnie~"

I shoved him back. "Look, I get that you two don't exactly like each other, but this is bigger than your drama. Work with her, okay?"

Before he could reply, Bonnie's voice interrupted. "Guys, it stopped."

Damon's head whipped toward the phone. "Where?"

"I'm at the old warehouse behind the TV station."

We were out of the car in seconds. I headed straight to the trunk and unzipped my duffle bag. Damon followed, stopping short when he saw what was inside.

"You brought guns?" he asked, incredulous.

I grabbed a Glock 19 and slipped it into my holster. "I always have guns. It's America, baby."

Bonnie was waiting for us by the warehouse, the compass clutched tightly in her hand. I gave her a nod. "Good job. Now, head home."

Her jaw tightened. "No. I can do more—I've been practicing."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Get her out of here."

She stepped closer, glaring up at me. "I can help," she insisted. "You know I can."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Alright, fine. But if things go bad, you get out. Understand?"

Damon snorted. "Oh, this is going to be fun. What's next? Rock, paper, scissors?"

I shot him a look. "We're not five."

Before I could say anything else, his hand shot out with paper while mine threw scissors. He groaned. "Every time," he muttered, stalking toward the front door. Bonnie and I went around back.

"There's a door up there," she whispered, pointing to a second-story entrance. "But how—"

Before she could finish, I scooped her into my arms and leapt up to the platform. We landed softly, and I set her down before she could protest.

"Not a sound," I warned, pulling my gun.

The air inside was thick with the stench of blood and decay. Bonnie covered her nose, her eyes wide as she followed close behind me. I kept my steps slow, my ears straining for any sound.

Gunfire echoed from below. Bonnie froze, looking to me with fear in her eyes. I gestured for her to keep moving, and we descended the stairs.

"I've got plenty of these funky bullets," Damon groaned in agony "So don't test me."

I heard a voice, one I hadn't expected to hear again. Logan Fell. He was supposed to be dead—or at least more dead than this.

Bonnie tugged at my sleeve, but I shook my head, raising my gun. Logan crouched, distracted by Damon. I fired, the shot hitting him square in the chest. He roared, whipping around to face us, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Don't kill him!" I shouted as Logan lunged. I shot two more into his chest as Damon grimaced but managed to snap Logan's neck before collapsing to the ground, his body riddled with wooden bullets. "What the hell took you so long?" Damon groaned as I crouched beside him, pulling the bullets out one by one.

"You did good," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Think you can make it to the car?"

"Give me five minutes, will you?" he muttered, limping toward the door

Bonnie knelt beside Logan's body, her face pale. "I know him. That's Logan Fell. How is he even…"

"That's why we need him alive." I zipped his hands together and poured whiskey over the ties. His skin sizzled, the smell of burning flesh filling the room. Bonnie flinched.

"You should go home," I said, not looking at her.

"What? Why?"

I met her gaze. "Because you don't have the stomach for what comes next."

Her voice wavered. "What do you mean?"

I didn't hesitate. "Torture."

I glanced back at Logan, slumped unconscious on the ground. Bonnie's wide eyes flicked past me to the heap of corpses, her face pale. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp as the horror fully sank in.