Home > The Asylum (The Vampire Diaries: Stefan's Diaries #5)(28)

The Asylum (The Vampire Diaries: Stefan's Diaries #5)(28)
Author: L.J. Smith

“You know, Damon, the offer still stands. I’ll be willing to put up a very pretty penny for that ring. I’ve had several inquiries. I know only the owner can benefit from its properties, but several of my kind would like to study it,” James said greedily.

“No, this has a certain … sentimental value attached to it.” Damon shook his head and pulled his arm inside his cloak. “And tea won’t be necessary for me. I’m still enjoying human blood. What I’m here for is vervain—a lot of it.”

“Vervain.” James smiled as he climbed on a stepstool and pulled down a few jars of the lilaclike flowers. “I don’t often get vampires looking for vervain. Witches, yes. But vampires tend to avoid the substances that harm them.”

Damon smiled tightly as James arranged the jars on the counter. I winced just looking at it.

“So, this will be … twenty pounds,” James said, pulling a number from thin air.

I pulled off my cuff links in frustration, hoping he would accept them in lieu of twenty pounds in hard cash. I doubted it. Twenty pounds was an astronomical sum. And it wasn’t as if we could compel James; running this shop, he’d obviously taken great lengths to protect himself. I could sense an impervious air around him.

“Sure,” Damon said smoothly, pulling a fistful of coins from deep within his pockets.

I blinked in amazement. In the flickering candlelight, the golds and silvers blurred together. The coins were round, square, and octagonal, and looked like they came from all over the globe. Where had he amassed such a fortune? And why hadn’t he offered it up before now, forcing me to rely on compulsion to get us everything from clothing to cakes?

James’s eyes glinted greedily. “Why, thank you, Damon. Of course, we welcome various currencies, but if you’re going to be paying in anything that’s not sterling, there is a … processing fee.”

“Take it,” Damon said cavalierly, pushing the mountain of coins across the dirty counter.

James took a heavy-looking square coin and squinted at it, causing more liquid to ooze from his eye. “Africa, eh? You don’t see many from there. How was it?”

“Hot,” Damon said shortly, obviously not interested in having a conversation.

Africa? I blinked at my brother. He was definitely unpredictable.

“Well, here’s enough vervain to take down an army of vampires. Although don’t outright kill ’em—it’d be bad for business!” James said, laughing and pounding the counter at the hilarity of his joke.

“Thank you,” Damon said, watching impassively as James put the jars of vervain into a large burlap sack.

“Now, can I help you with anything else? I have the blood of a Bengal tiger. It’s supposed to help with strength and temperament!” James said hopefully, his gaze flicking between me and Damon.

My stomach grumbled. I needed to find a pigeon or a squirrel before my hunger got any worse. Or, I could take the drink James was offering. “All right,” I said. Let Damon pay for it. He could certainly afford it.

“Two glasses?” James asked, glancing at Damon.

“No. Tiger blood isn’t in my diet,” Damon said disdain fully as James passed me a tin cup filled with a liquid as black as coffee. I took a small sip. The blood was rich and buttery tasting. After two decades of drinking watery blood from rabbits, this was heaven. I drained the glass, enjoying the warmth of the meal coursing through my veins.

James smiled. “Glad you enjoyed that. And there’s more where that came from.”

“Here you go,” Damon said, flipping a hexagonal coin onto the counter as payment for my drink.

We bid James good-bye and walked out of the store. I blinked at the sunlight, wondering whether there were more stores like that, hidden all around the world. My mind drifted back to Mystic Falls. A mother-daughter vampire pair had run the apothecary in town, but no one had known they were vampires at the time, and they’d only sold cures for human ailments: herbs for headaches, poultices for wounds. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine them having jars of live hearts pumping in their back rooms. But maybe they did.

“It’s always good to have friends of various talents, don’t you agree, brother? Although I could have bought an elephant for that amount of money. I was tempted to, once, back in India. But then what would I have done with it?” Damon asked, as we walked through the deserted streets. Damon led us in the direction of St. James Park. We walked in silence. I was enjoying the sunshine, while Damon still had to remain cloaked. To outsiders, we were just two men, perhaps playing hooky from work. And for once, I desperately wanted to believe the ruse. Sadly, that would never be the case.

11

The next morning, I hurried across town to Whitechapel, eager to deliver the vervain to Cora. Damon and I had spent the night pressing the flowers into liquid, braving the angry red rashes it left all over our hands and arms. Even now, safely packed in glass vials, the scent made my skin tingle and my eyes burn. Our interactions had been similarly prickly. I’d avoided any mention of Katherine, but Damon had seemed on edge and tried to disguise it by discussing his many conquests. After a while, I’d stopped listening. The story was always the same: beautiful woman, delicious blood, being invited to the finest parties in the area before getting bored and moving on. He didn’t yearn for a home the way I did. And more and more, I wondered whether that was a blessing.

I made a hasty stop at the bakery, then hurried to the alley where we’d met before. Cora was already there, hugging her knees to her chest.

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