14. Wuthering Heights.

I had drifted off to sleep on top of Damon, feeling the warmth and comfort of his body beneath me. But as I stirred awake, a chill enveloped me, snapping me out of my drowsiness. It was the dead of night, darkness blanketing the room, and a strange noise pierced the silence. Panic surged through me as I realized Damon was no longer beside me in bed.

The absence of his phone or wallet on the bedside table dismissed the thought of him leaving; maybe he had gone into the kitchen for a quick food run. He couldn't have just vanished into the night. My skin prickled with unease. I wasn't sure what had been awakening me.

Desperately, I sat up and hastily wrapped the sheet around myself for some semblance of protection. The sound of unfamiliar voices and unfamiliar footsteps reached my ears, sending shivers down my spine. Anxiety and uneasiness tightened its grip on me.

I smelled the air, several strange scents. Not good. Not at all.

Our mansion had been under renovation, but this house had been neglected. Adam's company hadn't found the time to update the security systems yet. The conversation between Adam and Samuel echoed in my mind, Bran's indifference towards bolstering the security clear. Bran was too trusting, but with me, the whole damn pack was the target.

I knew that there had been at least six medical facilities offering bounty of me but now whole damn pack. We are fucked so to speak.

Silently, I slipped out of bed, cursing under my breath. The only gun I possessed was in the car, far from my reach. I hurriedly dressed, realizing my lack of adequate weapons in this not-good territory for this kind of activity; this was the worst place in history to be under attack. I couldn't shift into my other form yet, unsure of the danger I was about to face. This house, one of Bran's, lacked an armory. Once again, Bran had underestimated the need for such precautions.

I had quite effective barrage of swear words in my lips as I moved. It would not be perfect for me attack with no gun but I had no choice, I needed to see more first.

With utmost caution, I tiptoed towards the upper floor, hugging the shadows. From this vantage point, I could survey the entire area below, my heart pounding in my chest. What I saw wasn't any good. We were more or less screwed and badly.

This was a horrifying sight. My mind filled with curses as I witnessed Adam, Damon, and Samuel lying unconscious. The men swiftly bound them to stretchers while engaging in hushed conversations. The acrid scent of silver invaded my nostrils, causing my mouth to contort involuntarily into a grimace. Vervain's stench lingered in the air, accompanied by the sight of Damon's pallid complexion.

Sensing my fangs protruding, I fought to maintain control. Cleansing was unnecessary now, so pursuing the men and drinking in their blood would be a grave mistake. The odds were stacked against me, with at least twenty men present and the possibility of more lurking within the house.

If they had gotten Damon, they were pro's and damn good ones too. No good, I needed to try to act, try to do something but my options were very limited.

Damon had in his skin many burns, undoubtedly inflicted by tasers, while Adam and Samuel appeared unscathed, likely unawakened by the commotion. They had no chance to do anything.

Ropes dangled from the ceiling, evidence of their entry through the roof. Regretfully, my lovely skylights had become a vulnerability. Transforming into a wolf would not be a good option in this dire situation. The house's layout proved disastrous for capture, with only one front door and fortified windows equipped with alarms. If I tried to go through the window, the alarm would shout at once, alarming these guys right away.

Peering through a window, I observed several vans parked outside, swarming with men. Escaping their clutches seemed improbable. Despite my vampire speed, maneuvering through this downtown area with its houses, poles, and obstacles would render it ineffective. This house is a terrible place to get caught or a good place to capture us. I wonder how, in god's name, they knew we were here?

Clear paths were paramount when sprinting at vampire speed, as reflexes failed to dodge in time, rendering my abilities futile. The speed was just too great. It wouldn't do any good for me to sprint away and knock myself out of the lamppost. I had no idea if they had weapon against vampire speed as well.

The men were likely scouring the house, and if I remained concealed, perhaps they would depart with their captives, allowing me a chance to reach the car and devise a plan. And get my gun. Then I could pursue, call Reddington, anyone, Charles, or Bran, but I need not get caught.

I cautiously tiptoed to a different location, desperately hoping that the old floorboards wouldn't betray me with their creaks. I strained to be as silent as possible, blending into the shadows to hide. Adrenaline surged through my veins, heightening my senses and sharpening my focus.

I needed to keep my cool, not yet blow up my rage, and not be hasty or sloppy. Now was time to wait and see, to try to come up with a decent plan of action, one that would give me even a little chance. But I couldn't make my move just yet. First, I needed to assess the situation more thoroughly.

There were two staircases leading down from the top floor. The first one was the main stairs. They were wooden, wide, straight stairs that led to the upper floor with 14 steps. There were humans around there, so it was not an option.

I deliberately veered towards the less frequented back stairs, descending them with feather-light steps. Every inch of the wooden steps beneath my feet was carefully tested, praying that they wouldn't betray me with any squeaks.

This was such an old house, and in old houses, floors squeak pretty often. These Bran's houses were not in good shape. Finally reaching the bottom, I stealthily navigated the dimly lit corridor and sought refuge in a secluded, dark corner. Thankfully, these were mere humans, oblivious to the sound of my heartbeat. I kept my pulse steady, feeling adrenaline flooding more and more into my veins, making me almost jittery.

Suddenly, my heart sank as I overheard the men talking about my presence. They were aware of my presence in the house. The situation was far from simple; I felt just as much of a target as those men. My options were severely limited, and a feeling of dread began to set in.

There was no way I could summon back up fast enough. I had to prioritize my safety and make my way to the kitchen. The men were armed with some sort of armor, rendering knives ineffective as throwing weapons. I could still slash their throats. They weren't that protected.

But I was agile, quick on my feet. Maybe if I could disarm a couple of them and find suitable weapons, I could level the playing field. Damn it, I wished we were in my spacious mansion, where I could maneuver more freely. This fucking three-story house was cramped and ill-suited for such activities. I had to find hiding spots and do my best to evade detection. I needed some sort of fucking miracle right about, but I needed to act wisely, safely, maybe take a risk and try to escape from the window.

I needed to clear way to my car but damn men were outside as well. Oh, I hoped I would have same sort of ability to hide myself. 

The scent of the men's aftershaves wafted through the air, mingling with their hushed voices as the leader issued orders for more men to search for me. I counted at least a dozen men in motion. Six of them ascended the stairs while the remaining six descended. Some of them began carrying Damon, Adam, and Samuel towards the waiting vans outside.

They would soon see that I was no longer in my bedroom. Fine then, let's play hide and seek. I moved silently, like a whisper, from one shadow to another, evading the men. The air vents, sealed shut with welded precision, offered no escape, my favorite hiding place, the ventilation shafts now inaccessible to me.

The taser sticks in men's hands posed a formidable challenge if I were to launch a direct attack. I held back my white-hot rage, knowing it would be futile against their electric weapons. The memory of the burns on Damon's skin served as a chilling reminder of their potency.

I had weaknesses and several of them. Damn, I hated to be so powerless and helpless. Men talked and walked. Several of them brandished tranquilizer guns, loaded and ready to incapacitate.

My eyes darted to the center of the living room, where the men had been carted away on a stretcher, and a large briefcase brimming with drugs lay abandoned. The mere sight of it sent my pulse racing, my mouth parched with anticipation.

I longed to unleash my fury and let it course through my veins, but I clenched my teeth and suppressed the urge, the effort causing both physical and emotional pain. I tried to be rational and not let my anxiety overcome me, but it was no use. I was scared of that damn briefcase, but it fueled me to stay hiding, not let them drug me.

This predicament was beyond infuriating. I could have reached out to Magnum, but his current location in Europe rendered him useless at this moment. There were very few people who I could have called if I had my phone.

One empty stretcher stood ominously reserved for me. My phone, lying upstairs, was now inaccessible to people occupying the upstairs. I couldn't retrieve it and called Reddington, uncertain of the reach of his network and the time it would take for him to act.

Reddington wasn't the fastest to react and act when needed. He liked to take his time and assess the situation before doing anything. My people, well, I couldn't endanger them, and besides, I had no network yet made here. I made a silent vow to myself that, henceforth, I would always be armed, even within the confines of my own home.

The only way was to eliminate the men, one by one, and hope for the best. I silently navigated my way to the kitchen, the faint aroma of men, mix of sweat, gunpowder, lingering in the air.

As I entered, I noticed the men engaged in conversation, their voices echoing off the walls. They were discussing the places they had already secured, their words filled with a mix of triumph and anticipation. 

Moving cautiously from one shadow to another, the old floorboards groaned beneath my weight. The sudden sound caught their attention, causing their heads to turn towards me simultaneously. Panic surged through me as one man spotted me from across the kitchen.

Dread enveloped me as I desperately searched for a hiding spot, but before I could react, searing pain erupted in my back, the result of a vicious attack from behind: sedative darts and many. I instinctively bolted towards the back stairs, my mind filled with terror.

Their next move was swift and unexpected - a barrage of tiny arrows whizzed through the air towards me. Another hit. Damn it. Ignoring the pain, I raced up the stairs as fast as my trembling legs would allow. I knew the darts would take time to take effect, giving me a slim chance of survival. I had maybe ten minutes, maybe less. My pulse was racing, and I could almost feel drugs entering my veins, the panic of being sedated taking hold, washing away any rational act. I had my panic full on and I cursed my weak mind. To be panic about drugs. 

The sound of pursuing footsteps echoed behind me, growing louder with each passing second. Suddenly, another blow struck me, intensifying the agony coursing through my body. I hadn't even reached the top of the stairs when my vision blurred, my legs giving way beneath me.

A blinding explosion of pain erupted throughout my being as one man mercilessly struck me with a taser stick. Collapsing onto the ground, I struggled to regain control of my muscles, but they betrayed me. Helplessly, I tumbled down the stairs, feeling the men grab hold of me, strapping me onto a stretcher.

The pungent scent of sedatives filled the air as one man took a syringe, slipped the needle in my vein, and pressed the plunger to the bottom, their purpose clear. My muscles remained unresponsive as the sedative overtook my consciousness, plunging me into an abyss of darkness.