"It could kill you if anyone passes by with a stake," Elena snapped. "You can't defend yourself like this." The pull of her Power toward Damon was making her itch again. He's defenseless, something inside her said. Finish him.
She felt a presence behind her and turned hurriedly as Stefan, back out of the fight, knelt in the bloody mud beside his brother, running his eyes over him clinically. They exchanged a long glance, and Elena knew they were communicating silently.
"Here," Stefan said. He bit neatly at his own wrist and held it to his brother's mouth. Damon eyed him, then drank deeply, his throat working.
"Thanks," he said at last. "Save me some vampires. I'll be there in a second." He lay back, breathing deeply. Elena could see that the wound was already knitting itself together, new flesh and muscle raw beneath the torn skin.
Stefan whirled and ran back to the stable, Matt behind him. Elena bent over Damon in the mud and waited until he pushed himself wearily up on his elbows, then to his feet.
"Ugh," he said. "I'm not at my best now, princess. But they've ruined my jacket, and that gives me a reason to fight." He shot her a pale echo of his usual brilliant smile.
"Well, since you've come all this way," Elena answered, keeping her voice light with difficulty. She resisted the urge to support him toward the stables, and by the time they reached the doors, he was walking strongly.
Inside, it looked like hell. Damon swore and slipped past her, throwing himself into the battle.
Her friends were fighting hard; she could see that at a glance. Meredith was engaged in a near-dance of thrust and parry with an olive-skinned, quick-footed vampire who could only be her twin brother. Bonnie and Alaric stood at opposite corners of the stable, their arms raised above their heads, chanting loudly, raising some sort of protective spell over their allies. Andres was here, too, she saw, tied and slung carelessly beside one wall, but he was pressing his bound hands into the earth and raising a green swell of protective Power as well.
Werewolves wove throughout the crowd, fighting together, human-form and wolf-form, as a Pack. Damon, Stefan, and even Chloe grappled with vampires, while Matt quickly staked Chloe's opponent from behind.
Suddenly, Elena's mind cleared. She'd been hanging back as Stefan had ordered, used to being the fragile one, less of a fighter than the others. But she couldn't be killed by the supernatural now.
Clutching her stake tightly, Elena threw herself into the battle, exhilarated. Her Power tugged at her, and she looked to see Damon wrestling with one of Klaus's vampires, his teeth bared and bloody. Her Power urged her to attack him, and she clamped down on her emotions. Not Damon, she told herself sternly.
A dark-skinned vampire swung her around by the shoulder, his face gleeful, and tried to sink his fangs into her neck. With a stroke of luck and speed, Elena shoved the stake into his chest.
At her first push, it didn't go deep enough to reach the vampire's heart. For a second, both Elena and the vampire stared down at the stake halfway into his chest, and then Elena gathered her strength and slammed it home. The vampire crumpled to the ground, looking pale and somehow smaller. Elena, savagely triumphant, looked around for her next opponent.
But there were so many vampires. And, in the center of everything, his face alight with glee, was Klaus. A few feet away from him, Stefan staked his opponent and charged toward Klaus, fangs bared.
Klaus raised his hands above his head to an opening in the ruined roof and, with a crash of thunder, lightning struck. Klaus laughed and aimed it toward Stefan, but Bonnie, fast as lightning herself, threw up her hands and shouted in Latin. The bolt changed direction in midair, hitting one of the old stalls and blowing its door off. The stall began to burn merrily. Klaus shouted, a high screech of rage, and shoved his hands up, blasting Stefan off his feet.
Elena screamed and tried to run to Stefan, but there was too much in the way, too many struggling fighters. Why couldn't she release more of her Powers? She could feel them there, beneath those locked doors in her mind, and she knew she'd be stronger if she could just reach them.
Her Power itched at her, and Elena involuntarily glanced away from where Stefan had fallen, to see Damon rip the throat out of his opponent.
In a flash, Elena understood. "Damon!" she called, and he was instantly at her side, wiping blood from his mouth on the back of his sleeve.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Fight me," Elena said, and he stared at her, bewildered. "Fight me!" she said again. "That is how I unlock my Power."
Damon frowned. Then he nodded, and hit her in the arm. It wasn't a hard hit, certainly not by Damon's standards, but it hurt and jolted her backward.
Something inside Elena broke wide open, and Power rushed into her. Suddenly, she knew how to do this. She was full of Power now, ready to unleash, and it was all focused on Damon. Not him, she told her Power again. Not Damon. With what felt like a huge physical effort, she tore her attention away from him, back toward Klaus and Stefan.
She waved a hand and one of the beams from the hayloft came free, and she slammed it toward Klaus, knocking him backward as Stefan scrambled up.
There was a thin squeal, barely audible over the now louder crackle of the flames, and Elena wheeled to see Bonnie in the grasp of one of Klaus's vampires, kicking furiously at him as she struggled. His hand was clamped over her mouth to prevent her from casting any spells.
With a pulse of fury, Elena shoved a jagged board through the vampire's chest and watched him fall lifeless to the ground.
Klaus was on his feet again now. Stefan had been tackled by another of Klaus's descendants, and nearer to her, Damon struggled with a huge, red-haired, brutal-looking vampire. A Viking, thought Elena. Klaus was calling lightning all around him, and the air was thick with dark, choking smoke.