And now...right now he was alone with Elena, in the middle of the wilderness, with towns few and far between. They were utterly, uniquely alone, with Damon helplessly wanting from Elena what every human boy she'd ever encountered had wanted.
Worst of all was the fact that charming girls, deceiving girls, was practically Damon's own raison d'être. It was certainly the only reason he'd been able to keep on living for the past half millennium. And yet he knew that he must not, must not even start the process with this one girl who, to him, was the jewel lying on the dungheap of humanity.
To all appearances, he was perfectly in control, icy and precise, distant and disinterested.
The truth was that he was going out of his mind.
That night, after making sure that Elena had food and water and was safely locked into the Prius, Damon called down a damp fog and began to weave his darkest wards. These were announcements to any sisters or brothers of the night who might come upon the car that the girl inside it was under Damon's protection; and that Damon would hunt down and flay alive anyone who even disturbed the girl's rest...and then he'd get around to really punishing the culprit. Damon then flew a few miles south as a crow, found a dive with a pack of werewolves drinking in it and a few charming barmaids serving them, and brawled and bled the night away.
But it wasn't enough to distract him - not nearly enough. In the morning, returning early, he saw the wards around the car in tatters. Before he could panic, he realized that Elena had broken them from the inside. There had been no warning to him because of her peaceful intent and innocent heart.
And then Elena herself appeared, coming up the bank of a stream, looking clean and refreshed. Damon was stricken speechless by the very sight of her. By her grace, by her beauty, by the unbearable closeness of her. He could smell her freshly washed skin, and couldn't help deliberately breathing in more and more of her unique fragrance.
He didn't see how he could put up with another day of this.
And then Damon suddenly had an Idea.
"Would you like to learn something that would help you to control that aura of yours?" he asked as she passed him, heading for the car.
Elena threw him a sidelong glance. "So you've decided to talk to me again. Am I supposed to faint with joy?"
"Well - that would always be appreciated - "
"Would it?" she said sharply, and Damon realized that he had underestimated the storm he had brewed inside this formidable girl.
"No. Now, I'm being serious," he said, fixing his dark gaze on her.
"I know. You're going to tell me to become a vampire to help control my Power."
"No, no, no. This has nothing to do with being a vampire." Damon refused to be drawn into an argument and that must have impressed Elena, because finally she said, "What is it, then?"
"It's learning how to circulate your Power. Blood circulates, yes? And Power can be circulated, too. Even humans have known that for centuries, whether they call it life-force or chi or ki. As it is, you're simply dissipating your Power into the air. That's an aura. But if you learn to circulate it, you can build it up for some really big release, and you can be more inconspicuous as well."
Elena was clearly fascinated. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Because I'm stupid, Damon thought. Because to vampires it's as instinctive as breathing is to you. He lied unblushingly. "It takes a certain level of competence to accomplish."
"And I can do it now?"
"I think so." Damon put slight uncertainty in his voice.
Naturally, this made Elena even more determined. "Show me!" she said.
"You mean right now?" He glanced around. "Someone might drive by - "
"We're off the road. Oh, please, Damon? Please?" Elena looked at Damon with the huge blue eyes that altogether too many males had found irresistible. She touched his arm, trying once more to make some kind of contact, but when he automatically drew away, she continued, "I really do want to learn. You can teach me. Just show me once, and I'll practice."
Damon glanced down at his arm, felt his good sense and his will wavering. How does she do that?
"All right." He sighed. There were at least three or four billion people on this dust mote of a planet that would give anything to be with this warm and eager, yearning Elena Gilbert. The problem was that he happened to be one of them - and that she clearly didn't give a damn for him.
Of course not. She had dear Stefan. Well, he would see if his princess was still the same when - if - she managed to free Stefan and get out of their destination alive.
Meanwhile, Damon concentrated on keeping his voice, face, and aura all dispassionate. He'd had some practice at that. Only five centuries' worth, but it added up.
"First I have to find the place," he told her, hearing the lack of warmth in his voice, the tone that was not merely dispassionate but actually cold.
Elena's expression didn't flicker. She could be dispassionate, too. Even her deep blue eyes seemed to have taken on a frosty glint. "All right. Where is it?"
"Near where the heart is, but more to the left. He touched Elena's sternum, and then moved his fingers to the left.
Elena fought back both tension and a shiver - he could see it. Damon was probing for the place where the flesh became soft over bone, the place most humans assumed their heart was because it was where they could feel their heart beating. It should be right around...here....
"Now, I'll run your Power through one or two circulations, and when you can do it by yourself - that's when you'll be ready to really conceal your aura."
"But how will I know?"