I hefted my suitcase from the back of the cab and offered the driver a wane smile, murmuring thanks. As soon as I saw Mystic Grille, I wanted to be back in Ireland. I wanted to be sitting on the front porch in the middle of Limerick County, listening to the Sidhe whisper the secrets of the world in my ears.

I had spent the entire summer on the Emerald Isle, discovering an extended family I never knew about and learning about the existence of more than just vampires. It wasn't that much of a reach. After the Salvatore boys came into town about a year ago, I learned to steer clear of the supernatural. I could almost recognize them on the spot. Having a few fairies in the family tree wasn't so bad, I suppose. I didn't want to come back here, but I knew I'd have to eventually. Summer can only last so long.

I've always hated this place. It was too close-knit, too judgmental. It didn't take kindly to a pair of orphans. I had graduated college last spring with a major in American History. I immediately caught a job with the town's history department. Mystic Falls was a very historical place. Do take note of my sarcasm. I would always come home from meetings with Tobias Fell and Mayor Lockwood and I'd be fighting mad. They were dipshits who just wanted an excuse to throw a party and rake in donations. My grandpa would always laugh his throaty laugh and turn back to his whiskey.

My throat tightened as I thought of him. He was the reason I'd spent the summer in Ireland. Last May, I'd come home from work to find him asleep in his easy chair. I had tried to rouse to him to get him to bed, but he never stirred. A blood clot to the brain, the doctors had said, quick and painless. But grandpa was all I'd had left after Henry died.

And then, the frosting on the cake was that my closest friend had left town right when I needed him with an evil minion.

It's weird to think of him as my best friend even though he had tried to kill me the first time we met.

I was walking to where I'd parked my car. It was just a block from where I worked. The only light I had was from the dim streetlamps. I was tired from dealing with Tobias Fell, my moronic boss, all day. I just wanted to get home and fall in bed.

"Excuse me, Miss," a low voice called in a British accent. It doesn't take a genius to know that if a man approaches you at night, when there's nobody else around, it's probably a good idea to steer clear. I recall distinctly the spike of fear and the beginnings of an adrenaline rush. I kept walking, not daring to turn around. He caught my arm and I whirled around, pulling away from him. I stepped closer to the streetlamp, making him take another step forward to compensate. He was tall and lean with a strong, scruffy jaw and dark blue eyes. He looked down at me like a lion would look down at a lamb. We stood there for a few moments, sizing each other up. I was seriously debating the 'fight or flight' instinct. I would never back down from a fight, but I wasn't sure if I could win this one.

"Do me a favor, love, don't scream," He spoke in a compelling voice and for some reason, I had the strongest urge to obey. He reached for me, biting into my neck. Panic surged and I shoved hard against him, falling back onto the sidewalk when he released me easily. I clamped a hand over my bleeding neck and stared up at him. Slowly and deliberately, he wiped the blood from his mouth. He would tell me later that my blood had a funny taste to it.

"You're like those Salvatore boys, aren't ya?" My mild southern drawl was evident as I spoke to him. He looked down at me, amused smile curling his lips.

"Sweetheart, I'm much worse."

I've always been a sucker for lost causes, and if I'd ever seen one, it was Nik. We became quick friends, as odd as it may sound. We'd both been alienated. He craved companionship and I just needed somebody to talk to that wasn't my grandpa. He would come to my office during the day. Sometimes I quizzed him on the lives he'd led, trying to find the historical significance in them. I knew it amused him to no end to see how starry-eyed I'd get over his tales. We would sit for hours. He would sometimes sketch while I tried to get actual work done, sometimes he would want to hear of my life. I had only known him for about a week when I told him about Henry.

"Do you have any siblings, Maggie?" He asked curiously as we ate lunch at the Grille. I sipped at my Coke thoughtfully, debating whether or not to tell him.

"I did. He died about a year ago," I admitted.

"What happened?" He wondered. I took in a shaky breath as all the memories came back to me. Tyler Lockwood's tormenting, Caroline Forbes' playing, it had driven Henry over the edge.

"He was bullied a lot...By kids in his class. Grandpa and I didn't know how bad it had gotten. We got a call from the school one day. They had heard a gunshot. Henry had taken Grandpa's pistol to school that day. He shot himself in the bathroom," Throughout my explanation, I had tried to keep my voice even, but my voice broke at the last sentence. Nik placed his hand over mine.

"I'm sorry, love."

I had heard that sentiment so many times. 'I'm sorry for your loss,' or, 'I feel awful for you.'

The first time I actually believed in the sincerity was when Nik said it.

But, of course, nothing good lasts. The dipshit left. I had been so distraught over grandpa. I had nobody else. I tried calling him and it went straight to voicemail. From the gossip I heard at the Grille, I learned he had left town, taking a brain-washed Stefan Salvatore with him. I had never cried so hard.

I had buried my grandpa, visited my family's graves, and booked a one-way flight to Ireland.

But, now I was back