The day passed with much research, but with very little in the way of results, which left Elena feeling increasingly concerned for her comatose friend. By the time night fel and Aunt Judith cal ed to wearily inquire whether Elena's family would see her at al that day, they had sorted through the first bag of papers and Alaric had gone over a third or so of what seemed to be the notebook in which Caleb kept the record of his magical experiments, grumbling about Caleb's terrible handwriting.

Elena frowned, flipping through another stack of papers. Looking through the pictures and clippings confirmed that Celia hadn't been among Caleb's planned victims. If the phantom had targeted her first, it must have been because she was rich in whatever emotion this phantom fed off.

"Snippiness," Meredith suggested, but she was careful to say it out of Alaric's hearing.

The clippings and printouts also showed that Caleb was indeed obsessed with Tyler's disappearance, and that he had evidence and memories of two different time lines for the same period - one where Fel 's Church had been fal ing apart and Elena Gilbert had been dead, and one where everything had been just fine, thanks in the smal Virginia town of Fel 's Church, including the continuing reign of the senior class's golden girl, Elena. In addition to Caleb's own double memories, which covered only the summer, Tyler had apparently talked to him over the phone the previous fal and winter about the mysterious events surrounding Mr. Tanner's death and everything that fol owed. Although it didn't sound from Caleb's notes like Tyler had mentioned his own transformation to werewolf and conspiracy with Klaus, just his growing suspicions of Stefan.

"Tyler." Elena groaned. "Even though he's long gone, he manages to make trouble."

Alaric's examination of the notebook so far had proved that they were right that Caleb was a magic user, and that he was planning to use his magic both to take vengeance against them and to try to locate Tyler. But it hadn't shown how he had summoned the phantom.

And despite Alaric's bringing any likely looking note, incantation, or drawing to Mrs. Flowers for inspection, they had not yet discovered what kind of spel Caleb had been doing, or what purpose the roses served.

Stefan escorted Elena home for dinner, then returned to continue helping the others. He'd wanted to stay with Elena, but she had a feeling her aunt would not appreciate a lastminute dinner guest. The second Elena stepped through the door, she could feel Damon's lingering presence and remembered how, just hours ago, they had stood upstairs, holding each other. Al through the meal, while she told Margaret a bedtime story, and then during her last cal to Meredith to check on the rest of the group's progress, she'd thought longingly of him, wondering whether she would see him tonight. That in turn set off pangs of guilt related to Stefan and Bonnie. She was being so selfish, keeping Stefan's brother's return from him, and thinking of herself while Bonnie was in danger. The whole cycle was exhausting, but stil she couldn't contain her exuberance that Damon was alive. Alone in her room at last, Elena ran a brush through her silky golden hair and pul ed on the simple cool nightgown she'd worn the night before. It was hot and humid outside, and through her window she could hear the crickets chirping busily. The stars were shining, and a half-moon floated high over the trees outside. She cal ed good night to Aunt Judith and Robert and climbed into bed, fluffing the pil ows around her.

She half expected a long wait. Damon liked to tease, and he liked to make an entrance, so he was quite likely to wait until he thought she would be asleep, and then sweep into her room. But she had barely turned off the light when a piece of darkness seemed to separate itself from the night outside her window. There was the faintest scuff of a footstep on the floor, and then her mattress groaned as Damon settled himself at the foot of her bed.

"Hel o, love," he said softly.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him. His black eyes glittered at her from the shadows, and Elena suddenly felt warm and happy, despite everything.

"What's the latest?" he asked. "I saw a lot of fuss going on at the boardinghouse. Something got your sidekicks in a tizzy?" His tone was casual y sarcastic, but his gaze was intense, and Elena knew he had been worried.

"If you let me tel everyone you're alive, you could be with us and then you'd know everything that's going on firsthand," she teased. Then she grew somber. "Damon, we need your help. Something terrible has happened."

She told him about Bonnie, and about what they had discovered in the Smal woods' garden shed.

Damon's eyes flamed. "A phantom's got the little redbird?"

"That's what Mrs. Flowers's mother said," Elena answered. "Stefan told us that he'd known of a rage phantom somewhere back in Italy."

Damon made a little pfft! noise. "I remember that. It was amusing at the time, but nothing like what you've been describing. How does this theory of Stefan's explain Bonnie's being taken? Or the appearance of the names when someone is threatened?"

"It's Mrs. Flowers's theory, too," Elena said indignantly.

"Or her mother's, I guess. And it's the only one that makes sense." She could feel Damon stroking her arm with the most featherlight touch, and it felt good. The hairs prickled on the back of her arms, and she shivered with pleasure in spite of herself. Stop it, she thought sternly. This is serious business. She moved her arm out of Damon's reach. He sounded amused and lazy when he next spoke. "Wel , I can't blame the old witch and her ghost mother," he said.

"Humans mostly stay in their own dimension; they learn only the tiniest piece of what's happening, even the most gifted of them. But if Stefan behaved like any self-respecting vampire and didn't go around trying to be human al the time, he'd have a little more of a clue. He's barely even traveled to the Dark Dimension except when he was dragged there to sit in a cage or save Bonnie. Maybe if he had, he would understand what was going on and be able to protect his pet humans a little better."

Elena bristled. "Pet humans? I'm one of those pet humans, too."

Damon chuckled, and Elena realized he had said that purposely, to rile her up. "A pet? You, princess? Never. A tiger, maybe. Something wild and dangerous."

Elena rol ed her eyes. Then the implication of Damon's words hit her. "Wait, are you saying this isn't a phantom?

And that you know what it actual y is? Is it something that comes from the Dark Dimension?"

Damon shifted closer to her again. "Would you like to know what I know?" he said, his voice like a caress. "There are a lot of things I could tel you."

"Damon," Elena said firmly. "Stop flirting and pay attention. This is important. If you know anything, please tel me. If you don't, please don't play games with me. Bonnie's life is at stake. And we're al in danger. You're in danger, too, Damon: Don't forget, your name's been written, and we don't know for sure that whatever happened on the Dark Moon was the attack on you."

"I'm not too concerned." Damon waved his hand disparagingly. "It would take more than a phantom to hurt me, princess. But, yes, I know a little more about this than Stefan does." He turned her hand over and traced her palm with cool fingers. "It is a phantom," he said. "But it's not the same kind we saw in Italy long ago. Do you remember that Klaus was an Original? He wasn't sired like Katherine or Stefan or I was; he was never human. Vampires like Klaus consider vampires like us who started out as humans to be weak half-breeds. He was much stronger than us and much more difficult to kil . There are different types of phantoms, too. The phantoms who are born of human emotions on Earth are able to intensify and spur on these emotions. They don't have much consciousness of their own, though, and they never get very strong. They're just parasites. If they are cut off from the emotions they need to survive, they fade away pretty quickly."

Elena frowned. "But you think this is another, more powerful kind of phantom? Why? What did Sage tel you?"

Damon tapped her hand with one finger as he counted.

"One: the names. That's beyond the powers of an ordinary phantom. Two: It took Bonnie. A regular phantom wouldn't be able to do that, and wouldn't get anything out of it if it could. An Original phantom, though, can steal her spirit and take it back to the Dark Dimension. It can drain her life force and emotions to make itself stronger."

"Wait," Elena said, alarmed. "Bonnie's back in the Dark Dimension? Anything could be happening to her! She could be enslaved again!" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she thought of how humans were treated in the Dark Dimension.

Damon squeezed her hand. "No, don't worry about that. She's there only in spirit - the phantom wil have her in some kind of holding cel ; it'l want her safe. I think the worst thing that could happen to her is she'l be bored." He frowned. "It'l sap her life force, though, and that'l weaken her eventual y."

"You think that being bored's the worst thing that could happen to her... oh, at least until it drains al her life force?

That's not good enough, Damon. We have to help her."

Elena thought for a moment. "So phantoms live in the Dark Dimension?"

Damon hesitated. "Not in the beginning. The Original phantoms were relegated to the Dark Moon by the Guardians."

"Where you died."

"Yes," Damon said caustical y. Then he rubbed the back of her hand in a silent apology for his tone. "Original phantoms are kept inside some kind of prison on the Dark Moon, just itching for a chance to get out. Like genies in a bottle. If something broke the prison wal , their ultimate goal would be to make it to Earth and feed on human emotions. After the World Tree was destroyed, Sage said things changed, which would make sense if an Original phantom managed to escape as things shifted after the destruction."

"Why come al the way to Earth, though?" Elena asked.

"There're al those demons and vampires in the Dark Dimension."

She could see Damon's smile in the shadows. "I guess human emotion is extra-delicious. Like human blood is. And there aren't enough humans in the Dark Dimension to make a real y good meal. There are so many humans on Earth that an Original here can just keep on gorging on emotion and growing ever more powerful."

"So it fol owed us from the Dark Moon?" Elena asked.

"It must have hitched a ride with you when you came back to Earth. It would have wanted to get as far from its prison as possible, so an opening between dimensions would have been irresistible."

"And it was freed from its prison when I used my Wings of Destruction and blasted the moon?"

Damon shrugged. "That seems to be the most likely explanation."

Elena's heart sank. "So Bonnie's vision was right. I brought this. It's my fault."

He brushed back her hair and kissed her neck. "Don't think of it that way," he said. "How could you have stopped it? You didn't know. And I'm grateful you used the Wings of Destruction: That's what saved me, after al . The important thing now is to fight the phantom. We need to send it back before it gets too powerful. If it gets a real foothold here, it can start influencing more and more people. The whole world could be in danger."

Elena half consciously arched her neck to one side so that Damon could get a better angle, and he gently traced the vein on the side of her neck with his lips for a moment before she realized what they were doing and nudged him away again. "I don't understand, though. Why would it tel us who it's going after next?" she said. "Why does it give us the names?"

"Oh, that's not its own doing," Damon said, and kissed her shoulder. "Even the most powerful phantom has to fol ow the rules. It's part of the spel the Guardians put on the Original phantoms, when they relegated them to the Dark Moon. A safeguard in case the Originals ever escaped. This way, their prey knows they're coming, and it gives them a fair shot at resisting."

"The Guardians imprisoned it," Elena said. "Would they help us send it back?"

"I don't know," Damon said shortly. "I wouldn't ask them if I could help it, though. I don't trust them, do you?"

Elena thought of the cool efficiency of the Guardians, of the way they had dismissed Damon's death as irrelevant. Of the way they had caused her own parents' death. "No,"

she said, shivering. "Let's leave them out of it if we can."

"We'l defeat it ourselves, Elena," Damon said, and caressed her cheek with his hand.

"Stop it," Elena said. "We have to concentrate."

Damon stopped trying to touch her for a moment and thought. "Tel me about your little friends. Have people been tense? Fighting? Acting out of character?"

"Yes," Elena said immediately. "No one's been acting like themselves. I can't put my finger on it, but something's been wrong since we got back."

Damon nodded. "Since it probably came with you, it makes sense that it would have targeted you and those connected to you as its first victims."

"But how do we stop it?" Elena asked. "What do these stories you've heard about the Original phantoms say about recapturing them once they've escaped from their prison?"

Damon sighed, and his shoulders slumped a little.

"Nothing," he said. "I don't know anything more. I'l have to go back to the Dark Dimension and see what I can find out, or if I can fight the phantom from there."

Elena stiffened. "It's too dangerous, Damon."

Damon chuckled, a dry sound in the darkness, and Elena felt his fingers run through her hair, smoothing the silky strands, then twisting them, tugging them gently. "Not for me," he said. "The Dark Dimension is a great place to be a vampire."

"Except that you died there," Elena reminded him.

"Damon, please. I can't stand to lose you again."

Damon's hand stil ed, and then he was kissing her gently, and his other hand came up to touch her cheek. "Elena," he said as he reluctantly broke the kiss. "You won't lose me."

"There has to be another way," she insisted.

"Wel , then we'd better find it, and soon," Damon answered grimly. "Otherwise the entire world wil be at risk."

Damon was saturated with Elena. Her sweet, rich scent in his nostrils, the throbbing beat of her heart in his ears, the silk of her hair and the satin of her skin against his fingers. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to sink his fangs into her and taste the heady nectar of her blood, that vibrant blood that tasted like no one else's.

But she made him go, although he knew she didn't real y want to.

She didn't say it was because of his little brother that she pushed him away, but he knew anyway. It was always Stefan.

When he left her, he transformed graceful y into a large black crow again and flew from her bedroom window to the quince tree nearby. There, he folded his wings and shifted from one foot to another, settling in to watch over her. He could sense her through the window, anxious at first, her thoughts churning, but soon her pulse slowed, her breathing deepened, and he knew she was asleep. He would stay and guard her.

There was no question: He had to save her. If Elena wanted a chivalrous knight, someone who would protect her nobly, Damon could do that. Why should that weakling Stefan have al the glory?

But he wasn't sure what came next. Despite Elena's begging him not to go, heading into the Dark Dimension seemed like the logical next step in fighting this phantom. But how to get there? There were no easy paths. He didn't have the time to journey to one of the gates again, nor did he want to leave Elena's side long enough to travel there. And he couldn't expect to find something as useful as a star bal again by chance.

Plus, if he did get there, being in the Dark Dimension would have special dangers for him now. He didn't think the Guardians knew he had come back from the dead, and he didn't know how they would react when they did. He'd rather not find out. The Guardians didn't care for vampires much, and they tended to like things to stay the way they ought to be. Look at how they had stripped Elena's Powers when she came to their attention.

Damon hunched his shoulders and fluffed out his iridescent feathers irritably. There had to be another way. There was the slightest rustle underfoot. No one without the sensitive ears of a vampire would have heard it, it was so cautious, but Damon caught it. He snapped to attention and peered sharply around. No one would get to his princess.

Oh. Damon relaxed again and clicked his beak in vexation. Stefan. The shadowy figure of his little brother stood beneath the tree, head tilted back, gazing in devotion at Elena's darkened window. Of course he was there, standing by to defend her against al the horrors of the night.

And just like that, Damon knew what he had to do: If he wanted to learn more about the phantom, he'd have to give himself over to it.

He closed his eyes, al owing every negative feeling he'd ever had about Stefan to wash over him. How Stefan had always taken everything Damon wanted, had stolen it, if he needed to.

Damn Stefan, Damon thought bitterly. If his brother hadn't come to town earlier than him, Damon would have had a chance to make Elena fal in love with him first, to be the one to reap the utter devotion he saw in her eyes when she looked at Stefan.

Instead, here he was, second-best. He hadn't been enough for Katherine either; she had wanted his brother, too. Elena, tiger to the kitten Katherine had been, would have been the perfect mate for Damon. Beautiful, strong, wily, capable of great love, they could have ruled the night together.

But she had fal en for his lily-livered weakling of a little brother. Damon's claws clenched the branch he sat on.

"Isn't it sad," a quiet voice beside him suggested, "how you try and try, but you're never enough for the women you love?"

A cool tendril of fog touched his wing. Damon straightened and looked around. Dark fog was winding around the quince tree, just at Damon's level. Below, Stefan stood unaware. The fog had come for Damon alone. With a private smile, Damon felt the fog envelop him, and then al was darkness.