Toronto 2012

Despite all of my travelling, I did own a small apartment in Canada. The fridge was always empty and I had more weapons than furniture. I slept on a mattress without a frame and in nothing but a tshirt, but I kept a firm grip on the dagger under my pillow.

I sat up in bed, dagger at the ready and realized it must have been the knocking at the door that woke me up. I debated whether I should pretend I wasn't not at home or go and answer it, after all it was two in the morning. I moved as silently as I could towards the front door. Clutch the knife in my hand, I peered through the peephole.

I whipped the door open. Knowing a vampire couldn't enter without an invitation, I would be safe. "How did you find me, Niklaus?"

"It's amazing what you can find out with a little bit of research," he smirked. His eyes ran over my inked legs, lingering on my upper thighs. He bit his lip and knew I was enjoying the attention. "Now invite me in."

"Why would I do that? I'm not suicidal," I scoffed.

"Anna, luv," he sighed. "I could have killed you any time in the past year, but I have not. Now let me in."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Fine. Come in," I said through gritted teeth. I had a feeling he would stand there all night, pestering me until I did gave in to his demand.

He ran in and pinned me against the wall, causing me to gasp. "You might want to put some pants on, you're tempting me," he said, looking at my lips.

I wrapped the collar of his shirt in my fingers and pulled him closer. "This is my home. You'll control yourself," I hissed and then ducked out from under his arm, freeing myself. "Now why are you here?"

"I've been looking for someone for centuries who has recently resurfaced," he explained. "I was wondering if you had heard anything."

"A centuries old vampire is very vague," I pointed out. "I'm going to need more than that."

"Katerina Petrova, born 1473, Bulgaria. She's been stateside for at least 150 years now and goes by Katherine Pierce."

The name sounded familiar. In fact, I was pretty sure Uncle Allan had been on her trail for a while. But even more recently I could have sworn someone had telling me about her. "Aw, you're looking for your girlfriend," I teased. I bit my tongue as soon as the words left my mouth, realizing I had gotten too comfortable, too familiar with him.

"She was never my girlfriend," he sneered.

"I need to make a couple calls, but I've heard about her," I back pedaled, trying to placate him.

My first call is to my uncle, asking if he knew who was hunting Kathrine now that he had moved on to other targets. Powerful creatures like her got tagged and followed. You needed to recruit other hunters and devise a real plan to take down old vampires. I watched as Klaus made himself at home and began rifling through my fridge. God, it had been so long since I had gotten laid. He came out with two beers. I was pretty sure they were the only things in there aside from the other four bottles of the six-pack. I couldn't be sure though because I had no idea how long they had been in there. I hung up with Allan and dialed Orin, the hunter he had directed me towards as Klaus opened the bottles with his fangs and handed one to me. I accepted just as Orin answered his end of the phone.

"Wow, Anna, been a while," Orin said.

"I know and sorry to disappoint, but this is a business call," I replied. "You were hunting that vampire Kathrine, right?"

"Yeah, I'm in Santa Monica right now," he answered. "Why? You want in?"

I chuckled. I only went after creatures I knew I could kill. "No, but I know someone who does."

"Well, I'm always down for help."

We hung up and I told Klaus that is Katherine was in Santa Monica although he had probably been eavesdropping on the conversation anyway. "Thank you. How can I repay you?" he asked, gently stroking my arm.

"You can owe me one," I pulled away. "Leave your number."

He stood suddenly and startled me. He leaned towards me the seductive way he always did as if he was going to kiss me or tell me a secret. He did neither: "You already have it," he motioned to the fridge and departed, leaving his half-full bottle.

I looked over to the fridge and scribbled on a scrap of paper, held up by the bottle opener magnet, is a phone number.