This chapter is a little shorter than the last one, but I figured the quick update will make up for it :)

Hope you guys enjoy, and thanks for the reviewsame :)

Xoxo

"This isn't right," I muttered, as Damon and I made our way down the street.

"First Enzo, now Ray Sutton's missing too? What's the end game? Turn everyone against us?"

"And weaken the Pack," Damon noted, as he reached forward, grabbing my arm, "Thanks for having my back in there, by the way. It's nice to know you still care."

I paused, "Yeah, well, the last thing we need is to raise more suspicions by you getting into a brawl with the locals."

Damon crooked his head, "You are aware that I am capable of confrontation without needing to hit someone?"

I turned as I huffed, "Nice to know you've changed since I left."

He was smart enough not to comment back.

Not that I would have noticed.

The wind shifted, and I caught a scent.

The same scent that had been on Enzo's body.

"Damon," I stopped.

His brows creased, "You find something?"

I nodded, "It's the same scent that we found on Enzo. But it's faint...come on."

We walked quickly across the street, and through a few lots.

The scent grew stronger as we neared the edge of the town square, back near the Mystic Falls Lodge, aka, the cheap motel usually rented out by truckers on their way through.

"The Mutt's here," I told Damon, "But...there's something else. Another scent?"

It was hardly noticeable, but seemed a little familiar.

Damon sniffed the air, and took a step toward the motel.

I grabbed his arm, "We have to be careful Damon."

"I know," he pulled his arm free, "But the scent is still an hour old, at least. He's not here."

I deliberated, "Fine, we go up and check it out, but keep your ears on. He could be back at any time."

Damon nodded, then motioned with his head for me to take point.

He preferred flanking me, just in case anything tried to come at us from behind.

I followed the scent up the stairs, to the second floor balcony.

His door was almost too easy to find.

"Here," I told Damon, who had stopped close behind me.

His arm jutted in front of me, and I paused.

He pushed himself past me, grabbing the door handle, and breaking the lock.

I rolled my eyes.

Whatever. If he wanted to risk dying first, that was his business.

I followed him inside.

The room was as you would expect.

Single full sized bed, little TV on a dresser, with a matching nightstand, and crappy carpet, paired with faded wallpaper.

"We have to be quick," I reminded Damon, walking over to the dresser, "Look for anything that can give us a clue about who this Mutt is."

He nodded, heading for the small bathroom.

There was nothing in the drawers.

I checked the small nightstand.

Nothing there either.

Other than the scent, and the fact that the bed was unmade, and there was a towel in the corner, it was almost as if no one had been occupying the room.

"Nothing," I called out.

Damon came back into the bedroom, "I found this."

He held up a bottle of aftershave, "Stupid new Mutt mistake."

I understood what he meant.

Our noses were extra sensitive to strong odors. And smells, such as cologne, body spray, or, in this case, aftershave, could dull our olfactory senses.

The reason all members of the Pack, myself included, used unscented body products,even soap.

"Still doesn't tell us much," I sighed.

"It tells us he's an idiot," Damon pointed out, "Which makes my job much easier."

I stood from where I'd crouched to check under the bed.

"I've looked everywhere," I told him, "This was a bust."

Damon observed the room, his eyes landing back on the bed, "Did you check under the mattress?"

I blinked.

"No..."

To be honest, it hadn't even crossed my mind.

Damon leaned over and began feeling the right side.

I took the left.

"Got something!" I exclaimed, as my fingers encountered the rough binding of some flat object.

I pulled.

"A picture album?"

Damon's voice was full of confusion at the binder type object I'd retrieved.

I shrugged, and opened it.

In the slots where pictures were supposed to be placed, were newspaper clippings.

Article after article about a serial killer who'd been evading the police for years.

Women seemed to be the preferred victim, early twenties to middle aged.

Each article had an object next to it.

A necklace, near the story of a missing, thirty-four year old mother of two.

A lock of red hair, next to the article about a twenty-three year old who disappeared on her birthday weekend.

An earring, a scraps of cloth, more locks of hair...

I had to swallow a couple times, "It's a scrapbook."

"All his kills," Damon agreed, "And the trophies he collected from each one."

I turned away.

Damon however, flipped through a few more pages.

He looked up at me then, "Didn't you mention that the other Mutt we hunted had been on the news? Also a murderer?"

I nodded, catching up.

"Someone's turning sadistic serial killers...into werewolves?" I asked, disbelievingly.

Damon looked back at the articles, "It would seem so."

I shook my head in, "This is insane."

Damon stood, closing the scrapbook, and handing it back to me, "Alaric will want to see this."

I nodded, taking it from him, "Okay, let's get out of here, then."

I made for the door, but Damon rushed forward, grabbing me.

"What the-"

His hand flew over my mouth, "Shhh."

I froze.

Then I heard it as well.

Voices.

Familiar voices, in the parking lot outside.

"Easy now, darling," an English accent rang out, "We aren't all quite in the same rush."

I moved Damon's hand from my mouth and mouthed at him.

"Kol?"

He nodded, his eyes focused on the door.

A steady, unfamiliar voice answered, "No one is rushing. But we don't have all day."

I moved over to the window, peeling the blinds back enough to see out.

Sure enough, Kol Mikaelson stood next to a sleek black car, an average, dark-haired male next to him.

"Both of you, can it," another familiar voice cut in, and the driver door was pushed open, as Kai Parker climbed out, "We're on a schedule, now. Shane, let's get your things and go."

The new Mutt nodded, "Fine."

I pulled away, and shot Damon a look.

Three against two weren't impossible odds, but I'd rather not have to fight today, if avoidable.

He motioned towards the back, where there was a sliding door that opened to a small balcony.

I hurried that way, and he grabbed the aftershave.

Opening the bottle, he threw the liquid in all directions, filling the room with the scent of it. Then he was behind me on the balcony.

The distance down wasn't bad, for a werewolf, anyway, but Damon insisted on jumping first.

I heard the doorknob rattle, and threw myself from the ledge after him, clinging tightly to the scrapbook.

I landed in his arms, and Damon didn't hesitate to pull us against the side of the building, under the railing, so no one looking off could spot us.

I held my breath.

"What the hell?" The other man, Shane called out.

"Someone else has been here."

"No shit," Kai spat, "What is that awful-"

Some cluttered sounds.

"Are you kidding me? Aftershave? Are you an idiot?"

The breaking of glass against the wall, "Well that's just perfect."

Footsteps moved ahead, and I looked at Damon.

His eyes were hard as he listened.

"Are you children through?" A new voice joined the others, and I did a double.

Elijah.

Damon placed a finger over his lips, reminding me that I shouldn't say anything out loud.

"Good lord," the eldest Mikaelson brother exhaled, "Who bathed in the cologne?"

"You can thank him," Kol spat.

Elijah let out a sigh, "I suppose it's safe to assume that the Pack has found you out, Atticus."

A hard sniff.

"Damon Salvatore," Elijah informed the others, "And...Elena Gilbert."

He seemed almost pleased, "Very enticing scent, that one. And here I'd thought she'd gone back to New York."

"Doesn't matter. Let's go," Kol shot, "If Salvatore's been here, it's too late."

"My scrapbook is gone," the new Mutt hissed.

"Never mind that," Kai instructed, "We need to clear out. Get back to the warehouse."

Damon and I took that as our cue as well.

Cutting across the back of the building, we headed off to the edge of town, circling back toward the square the long way, in an effort to be sure our trail was indistinguishable.

Finally, we made it back to his Camaro.

"We should have followed them," Damon stated, with no real conviction.

"Not without the others," I told him, "Alaric is gonna be pissed enough as it is. No need making it worse."

Damon nodded.

"Well, we know one thing, at least," I sat back in the passenger's seat, "This is bigger than we originally thought. Mutt's don't group. So whatever this is...it's bad."

Damon sighed, "We'll figure it out. But first, we need to get back to the manor."

I nodded, thinking of the ass chewing that was no doubt awaiting us, "Time to pay the piper."

Damon smirked a little, and put the car in gear.

Woot. Woot. Lol

So what did ya'll think?

More drama to come!

:)