Henry Flemming perched on a stool at the bar of the Mystic Grill, his attention fixed on Isabella and Caroline, who were engaged in an animated conversation. He had been quietly observing them for days now. Isabella rarely strayed far from her grandmother, Marie, or from Caroline, the sheriff's daughter, always seeming to crave the safety of their familiar company.
He made a point to keep his distance, knowing the implications of getting too close.
His gaze drifted to a blond boy behind the bar, his jaw set and eyes narrowed as he watched the sheriff's daughter with annoyance and intrigue. Perhaps this boy could be an ally in helping to separate Isabella from the crowd. Throughout his many visits, Henry had frequently noticed the boy in deep conversation with a striking brunette, a girl he'd overheard being called Elena. The name had also slipped into Isabella's chatter, piquing his curiosity.
Could it be? Was the brunette really the elusive Elena?
Henry's daughter, Isobel, had been tirelessly researching a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to this girl. What was her name again? It had something to do with a "k"...
It didn't matter.
A scheme began forming in Henry's mind—what if he could use this Elena to lure Isabella away?
As Isabella and Caroline finally turned to leave, Henry staggered slightly and made his way to the bar.
"Hi, how can I help you?" The blond boy asked, his voice friendly yet casual, though he looked only slightly older than the two girls.
"Scotch on the rocks," Henry replied, his tone smooth. "Although..."
"Yes?" the blond inquired, a hint of curiosity creeping into his expression.
"I'd hate for the sheriff's daughter to catch me drinking," Henry added, a wry smile on his lips.
"Oh, is Caroline here?" the boy asked, scanning the room keenly.
"You know her?" Henry raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"My whole life," the boy responded a flicker of pride in his voice.
Henry chuckled darkly. "I got arrested for a DUI once, and she was there when I was brought into the station," he fabricated easily. "When I tried to buy some alcohol at a store, she yelled at me for throwing away my second chance."
"Yeah," the boy responded with a laugh, "that sounds just like Caroline."
Henry pointed toward the door. "She just left. You know, with the girl who seemed to be tripping over her own feet."
"What?!" The blond's reaction was immediate, confusion etched across his features as he looked toward the exit and then back at Henry. "That wasn't Caroline Forbes."
The confession sent a wave of shock through Henry.
"What?" he stammered, incredulous.
"That's Rosalie Hale," the boy replied, his voice sharp, clearly irritated.
"Why would she lie?" Henry questioned, though deep down, he understood the motivations too well.
"Rosalie likes inserting herself into Bella's life. She thrives on it."
"Bella?" Henry repeated, trying to connect the dots.
"The girl Rosalie was with," the blond explained, his tone clipped as if he were growing impatient.
"Oh." Henry sipped his drink slowly, the scotch warming his throat. "May I have another?" he requested, contemplating his next move.
Victoria's mind buzzed with unanswered questions as she pondered Rebekah's mysterious presence and Isabella Swan's palpable disdain toward her. Isabella certainly had an air of arrogance, but how she'd lunged at Rebekah the other day sent a shiver down Victoria's spine. The intensity of that moment lingered in her thoughts like a dark cloud.
As she stepped inside the bustling school, a wave of unease washed over her, creeping into her bones like an ominous chill.
Was she walking into a trap, or was something darker lurking, ready to pounce?
Caught in her reverie, Victoria's gaze fell upon Isabella and Rosalie Hale striding through the hallway, their voices low and urgent as they headed toward Mr. Saltzman's classroom. Suddenly, Jeremy Gilbert burst forth from a side corridor, his strides long and nearly frantic, intensifying the tension as he approached the two girls.
"Bella, Elena—"
"You're late." The sharpness of Mr. Saltzman's voice sliced through the noise of the hallway, drawing every eye.
Her heart raced as they all turned to face him, standing like a sentinel in the doorway, his expression a mask of controlled authority. Rosalie let out a low growl, irritation flashing in her eyes.
"The second bell—"
But the bell echoed through the hall just as a smirk crept onto Mr. Saltzman's lips, reverberating like a warning bell. Rosalie, clearly irritated, rolled her eyes and marched into the classroom, her footsteps heavy with unspoken frustrations.
"Victoria, right?" Mr. Saltzman's gaze locked onto hers, ice-cold and piercing. "I need to speak with Jeremy and Bella. Can you give us a moment?"
Though it sounded like a request, the underlying tone felt more like an order, sending a ripple of unease through Victoria. Mr. Saltzman, usually a figure of creepy watchfulness, now emanated an unsettling aura that hinted at something more sinister.
Victoria inched toward the classroom door, gritting her teeth, her instincts screaming for caution.
"Yes…" she replied softly, her heart pounding as she fought to look back at the unfolding confrontation outside.
As she slipped into her seat in the dimly lit classroom, Mr. Saltzman slammed the door behind her with a thud that echoed ominously, reverberating off the walls like a foreboding omen.
The other students jumped at the sudden noise, their whispers dying abruptly. Rosalie glanced at Victoria, her expression a mix of confusion and concern as she glanced from Victoria to the door.
"Where's Bella?" she mouthed anxiously, her brow furrowed.
"Out there with them," Victoria mouthed, her pulse racing. She couldn't shake the feeling that something dark and dangerous was about to unfold, and she was caught right in its path.
Jeremy and Bella stood anxiously before Alaric Saltzman, their hearts pounding in the tense silence. With wide eyes, Jeremy glanced at Bella, who was inching closer, gripping her backpack tightly as if it were a lifeline.
"How are you still alive?" Jeremy's voice cut through the quiet, an edge of disbelief lacing his words when the red-haired vampire disappeared from sight.
Alaric Saltzman responded with a sly smile, his eyes twinkling with an unsettling amusement, but he remained silent, allowing the weight of his presence to hang in the air.
"Is Elena dead?" Bella's voice trembled as she asked the question, a whisper barely escaping her lips.
Grief wrapped itself around Jeremy's throat like a vice, choking his ability to respond. His eyes remained downcast, haunted by the thoughts racing through his mind.
"Go on, Jeremy," Alaric taunted, leaning slightly closer, his frame radiating a sinister confidence. "Tell her about her sister."
Jeremy turned away, unable to meet Bella's gaze—the pain in her eyes was too much to bear.
"Bella..." he started, but his voice faltered.
"Technically, yes, but no," Alaric interjected smoothly, relishing the torment.
"What are you doing here?!" Jeremy demanded, frustration bubbling up inside him.
"My job, of course," Alaric replied nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Why are you still acting like a human?" Jeremy shot back, unable to hide his contempt.
"Why not?" Alaric laughed, his voice laced with a dark humor that sent shivers down Jeremy's spine.
"What are you trying to prove?" Jeremy pressed, his fists clenched at his sides.
Alaric regarded him with an amused expression before shifting his attention to Bella, whose skin had turned pale, almost ghostly. "Aren't you going to say anything?" he smirked, the corner of his mouth curling up wickedly. Jeremy dared another glance at her, and he watched as Bella shook her head vigorously, her hair whipping around her face.
In an instant, Alaric's playful demeanor shifted. "You know, I used to think the Salvatores were exaggerating when they said you smelled good," he breathed deeply, relishing Bella's sweet scent. His smile widened, revealing sharp fangs that seemed to glint menacingly in the dim light. "But now that I've had a whiff of you... I know you're utterly orgasmic. And quite pretty, too—no wonder Stefan can't stay away."
The comment sent a wave of revulsion through Jeremy, causing his skin to crawl uncomfortably. Alaric would never have stooped on this degrading behavior if he had been still human.
"What did you and Stefan do on the night of the bonfire?" Alaric asked, his voice low but sharp.
Bella's cheeks flushed crimson, the embarrassment flooding her face as she struggled to find her voice.
"Hey, get away from her!" Jeremy stepped protectively in front of her, his heart racing.
"What are you going to do about it?" Alaric taunted, his grip tightening around Jeremy's neck, power radiating from him like a dark aura. "Call your witch?"
"Stop!" Bella stammered, her voice pleading. "Just stop hurting him! Please!"
With a sudden, violent motion, Alaric hurled Jeremy against the wall. Bella's heart raced as she rushed to his side, fear etched on her face.
"Jeremy—" she gasped, frantic as she knelt beside him.
"Get up! Both of you," Alaric commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance. Bella helped Jeremy to his feet; Alaric opened the door and gestured for them to enter. "You're holding up the other students," he said coolly, the atmosphere thick with tension as they entered the unknown.
As soon as I stepped out of class, a gripping sense of dread filled the pit of my stomach, pulling me toward the nurse's office like a magnetic force. My heart pounded furiously against my ribcage, and I could feel an anxiety attack looming on the horizon, so I hastily dialed Gran's number.
I quickly texted Jeremy, reassuring him I was fine, but I couldn't shake off the anxiety, so I also messaged Rosalie to let her know I was heading home. The thought of facing anyone else made my chest tighten, especially Elena.
I couldn't bear the idea of encountering her.The very notion of meeting vampire Elena sent chills coursing through my veins.I didn't want to see any of them—not Elena, with her haunting eyes; not Caroline, and certainly not Stefan, whose very presence seemed to complicate everything tenfold.Rosalie had been right. How could a girl caught in the web of two vampires' affections meet a human death?
How could he—Stefan—and Damon let this tragedy unfold?
When I finally stumbled through the front door, the weight of the world crashed down on me, and I collapsed onto the couch, my mind racing and my heart still hammering.
"Did you see Elena?" Gran's voice cut through the heavy silence, seeping into my troubled thoughts.
"No," I replied.
"Did alaric say something to you?"
The memory of Alaric Saltzman's cryptic remarks flashed through my mind, sending a wave of nausea in my stomach.
"No," I lied, feeling the tension ripple around us.
"Did you see Elena?" Gran pressed, her voice thick with concern.
"No."
"What about Jeremy?" Gran continued, her worry palpable. "Is he okay?"
"He seemed okay," I responded, trying to keep my voice steady, even as a storm of anxiety raged within me.
"Did he tell you exactly how Elena died?"
"We didn't get the chance to talk," I said, my throat feeling tight.
"Is Alaric coming back?"
"He didn't mention it," I sighed heavily, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up later tonight."
Gran leaned closer, her voice trembling with unease. "There's something you should know. I think I know the reason why Alaric is still alive."
A chill slithered down my spine. The gravity of her words hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere with impending dread.
What could she possibly mean?
"How is Alaric still alive?" Damon's voice sliced through the thick tension in the air, each word dripping with disbelief as we—Damon, Caroline, Matt, Bonnie, Stefan, and I—stood huddled in the shadows of the evening, anxiously waiting for Jeremy and Bella to arrive. The soft rustle of leaves and distant night sounds only heightened our unease.
Earlier that day, a text from Jeremy sent a wave of anxiety crashing over me. He and Bella had spotted Alaric, and worry gnawed at him—had something gone horribly wrong?
I had urged Jeremy to bring Bella outside to meet us, hoping for some answers.
"What about Klaus?" Caroline interjected, her expression morphing into one of palpable fear. "What if Klaus and Alaric are linked? This could be catastrophic!"
I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around the implications.
"How could they be linked?" My voice trembled, revealing the panic dancing just beneath the surface.
"Esther wanted all vampires gone. Maybe this is her twisted insurance policy," Caroline suggested her voice a taut whisper that echoed ominously in my ears.
We turned to Bonnie, whose brows were knit in thought, the faintest hint of worry shadowing her usually bright expression. "I feel like we're missing something," she murmured, searching for clarity in the chaos surrounding us.
"Missing what?" I snapped, desperation creeping into my tone, tinged with the moment's urgency.
"Did Jeremy talk to him?" Stefan asked, anxiety coloring his voice. "He and Bella are human; Ric might have told them something we haven't considered."
"Jeremy didn't tell me anything," I replied, a sinking feeling taking root in my chest as I thought of Bella's silence.
"The bird been distant lately," Damon remarked. "Maybe she knows something we're oblivious to…"
"Why wouldn't she say anything?" Stefan shot back, his eyes narrowing in frustration.
"When was the last time anyone checked on her?" Caroline sighed heavily, the weariness in her voice heavy with the burden of our situation.
"When Elijah and Rebekah took us," I admitted, a shiver running down my spine at the memory of their threats and the chaos they unleashed.
"Do they know that you're sisters?" Caroline pressed, her voice dropping to a low, tense whisper as if the night could hear us.
"I doubt Rebekah does, but Elijah knows we're related," I confessed, unease bubbling within me.
"Who told him that?!" Damon's panic rose sharply, his tone dangerous.
"I did," I murmured, guilt flooding through me like ice water.
"WHAT?!" Caroline exploded, her grip tightening on my jacket as disbelief etched across her features. "Why would you do that?"
Tears welled in my eyes, the reality of my mistake crashing down like a tidal wave.
"I didn't—I wasn't thinking," I stammered, my voice choking on the weight of my remorse.
"Clearly!" Caroline barked, frustration boiling over.
"She didn't know," Damon rushed to my defense, eyes darting between us in a futile attempt to mediate. "Just give her—"
"Yes, she did!" Caroline retorted, turning on him with fierce intensity. "I was warning her when I lost it and called her the doppelgänger."
The realization hit me hard, a cold dread coursing through me as I grasped the full ramifications of our predicament.
"So Bella is now the only way for Klaus to get a doppelgänger," Matt said slowly as if weighing each word. "Doesn't that mean she's in danger?"
"Yeah, by saving you!" Damon snapped, frustration darkening his features. "Stefan put a giant target on the little Swan's back."
The heavy atmosphere around us felt suffocating, and the stakes rose higher with every word exchanged. Time was slipping away, and the danger was closer than we dared admit, wrapping us all in a sense of impending doom.
I couldn't wrap my head around it; I was responsible for Alaric Saltzman still being alive.
This situation felt precarious, and I knew it wouldn't end well.
After school, my phone lit up incessantly with messages and calls from Jeremy, his concern evident in every text. For what felt like an eternity, he bombarded me with questions, asking where I was and if I was alright.
Finally, I picked up while sitting on my bed, feeling a mix of guilt and exhaustion.
"Jeremy—"
"Where are you?" he burst out, his voice laced with worry the moment I answered. "I was really worried about you!"
"I went home," I replied softly, guilt tightening my chest.
"Why didn't you let me know?" he asked, frustration creeping into his tone.
"I didn't want to risk anyone else overhearing," I explained, the weight of secrecy heavy on my mind.
"Yeah," he muttered, his voice dropping. "I get that. Are you okay?"
"Yeah—" I tried to assure him.
"We waited for you," he said, disappointment flooding his words.
"I just didn't want to see anyone," I admitted with a sigh, the thought of facing others feeling overwhelming.
"The idea of Elena being one of them makes me sick," Jeremy spat, anger sparking in his voice.
"How did Elena die, anyway?" I inquired, my curiosity mingling with sorrow.
"Matt and Elena were driving home together when Rebekah suddenly appeared on the road. Matt swerved to avoid her and ended up going off the bridge. Stefan got there just in time to save Elena, but she insisted that he save Matt first since he was unconscious…" he recounted, pain in his voice.
"Poor Stefan and Matt! Oh no, Matt must feel so guilty," I said, my heart aching for them.
"It's not Elena, Matt, Stefan, or Dr. Fell's fault! Rebekah is the one to blame for all of this," Jeremy exclaimed, his frustration palpable.
"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling the weight of our shared grief.
"How are you holding up?" Jeremy asked, his concern returning. "About what Ric said—I won't let him hurt you."
"He's not going to hurt me," I reassured him, though doubt loomed in my mind. "I'm fine. Really."
"I think you should stay home for a couple of days," he suggested, his worry deepening.
"What?" I said, taken aback. "Jeremy—"
"Let us handle one of them—"
"I'm not putting my life on hold because of this," I insisted, exasperation creeping into my voice.
"No, Bella, you don't understand," Jeremy sighed, frustration mingling with sadness. "With Elena gone, your bloodline is the only way Klaus can get a doppelgänger. He might try to snatch you any time."
"How are you doing, though?" I asked, wanting to check in on him.
"I'm fine. I'd be better if my sister was still alive," he admitted, pain clear in his voice.
"Yeah, me too," I replied, the shared loss wrapping around us like a heavy blanket.
"What do you mean Alaric Saltzman is still alive?!" Klaus thundered, his voice echoing against the walls as he paced Rebekah's house's sleek, modern kitchen, his frustration palpable.
"I saw him with my own eyes, Nik," Rebekah insisted, her voice rising urgently. "He strode into that classroom like he owned the place, completely unfazed."
"But Elena's dead." Klaus's brow furrowed as he processed the implications of her statement.
"She's a vampire now. I've seen her feed, Klaus," Rebekah replied, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze.
Then how the hell is he still alive? Klaus thought, a storm of questions swirling in his mind.
"It seems the old witch has deceived us once more," Klaus growled, his tone dripping with anger. "Did anyone happen to mention how?"
"Not to me," Rebekah responded, crossing her arms defensively, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
"Esther must have linked him to another life," Klaus muttered, his voice tense as he pieced together the ominous puzzle.
"Who?" Rebekah asked, her confusion clear as she searched his expression.
Suddenly, a vivid image of a girl filled his mind—a face he couldn't forget.
She had a strikingly fair complexion, her skin almost translucent, with delicate veins tracing intricate patterns beneath the surface.
This ethereal look made her vulnerable to the sun's harsh rays. Her long, straight, dark brown hair framed her heart-shaped face and widow's peak, drawing attention to her wide chocolate-brown eyes—those eyes, large and expressive, conveyed both depth and innocence.
A thin nose and prominent cheekbones complemented her slightly full lips, which seemed to hold secrets of their own. Her eyebrows, darker than her hair, were perfectly straight and structured, adding to the aura of elegance that surrounded her.
As her name suggested, she was a swan—a figure of exquisite beauty and grace that captivated all who saw her.
But only a doppelgänger's blood could create more hybrids, right?
Could the Swan possess a value far beyond their current understanding?
"Why are you smiling?" Rebekah demanded, her curiosity piqued. "Do you know who it is?"
"Yes, I do," Klaus replied, a flicker of realization igniting his expression.
"Then TELL ME!" Rebekah insisted, her impatience spilling over. "I need to know—"
"No!" Klaus roared, cutting her off with fierce conviction. "I will not kill them out of petty jealousy."
"You care more about creating hybrids than you do me!" Rebekah shot back, her voice filled with indignation.
"The hybrids are tough enough to brush off harsh words from a few teenage girls," Klaus retorted, turning away from her with a sense of finality.
"And trust me, the less you know, the better." He pivoted back towards her, his gaze piercing. "I won't allow this to be a topic of pillow talk with one of the Salvatores."
Rebekah scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned her back to him.
"Just make sure that the Salvatores—Damon in particular—don't do anything reckless, love." Klaus said coolly.
The tension in the air lingered, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavily between them.
After my conversation with Jeremy, I hung up the phone, frustration swirling in my chest. Just then, a light tap on my bedroom window startled me. I turned to see Alaric Saltzman perched on a tree branch outside with a mischievous grin. He easily climbed through the window, leaving a dirt trail across my unmade bed.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice a mix of confusion and annoyance.
"I'm making sure you aren't doing anything reckless," he said, standing tall and crossing his arms as he scanned the chaotic landscape of my room.
"What do you mean?" I challenged, my curiosity piqued.
"Dumb doesn't look good on you, Isabella," he replied, calm yet playful.
"I'm not doing anything!" I insisted.
"Jeremy's right," Alaric stated casually, his eyes drifting over the mismatched decorations and scattered clothes. "This place looks like a five-year-old's masterpiece."
"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling defensive.
"You should really think about redecorating—"
"What do you mean Jeremy is right?" I interjected, my heart racing.
"Staying home," he said, turning to meet my gaze, his expression serious now. "Klaus isn't an idiot; he'll stop at nothing to get what he wants."
"It's me, isn't it?" I whispered, realization dawning on me. "It's my life you're linked to?"
Alaric locked his gaze on my neck, an intensity in his eyes. "Come here," he said in a husky voice, leaning closer. "I want to try something."
I shook my head as he backed me into a corner. 'Mr. Saltzman-'
'Don't be a coward; give me your wrist.'
'What?' I choked.
'I wanna test a theory.'
'What theory?'
I paused before extending my arm out; he revealed his fangs. 'This will only hurt a bit.' He bit my wrist roughly and fed until I cried out in pain. 'Baby.' He scoffed as I snatched away from him; he bit his wrist and held it close to my lips. 'It'll heal you.'
I reluctantly drank his blood; it tasted bittersweet, but his blood did heal my wrist.
'What's-?' I began before I grabbed myself by my face and held it. 'Hey-'
'Pick your nose.'
'Eww, why would I do that?!'
He let go of me. 'So vampire blood doesn't make you easier to compel, but your blood does make me feel invincible. I wonder if Damon was aware of this when fed from you.'
'I need to call Rosalie-'
'Stay home until I destroy Klaus.' Alaric ordered.
'I'm not going to let this-'
'Don't make me force you, Isabella.' Alaric said, his lips hovered over mine. 'You don't want that.' I turned away from him, his breath fanning my hair. 'Then again, maybe you would.'
I turned back to face him, but he was gone, and the window was shut.
Everyone spent the night at Elena's house, believing it to be the safest option against Alaric and the relentless hunter stalking us. The atmosphere was tense but filled with a sense of camaraderie.
Caroline and I found ourselves in the cozy living room, the air thick with the rich aroma of Alaric's liquor as I savored a glass, enjoying its warmth. Caroline, however, was distracted. She sat by the window, her eyes fixed uneasily on Bella's house, worry etched on her face.
"Caroline, you need to relax," I urged, trying to ease her tension.
"I can't," she replied, turning to face me, her voice filled with urgency. "Stefan, there's something crucial I've been keeping from you—something that affects both of us. Bella and I..."
"What is it?" I pressed, sensing the weight of her words.
"I told Bella not to share this with you, especially not with Damon or Alaric," Caroline babbled, her eyes wide with concern. "The reasons are obvious with Damon, but with Alaric Saltzman, it's more complicated—his curiosity about Bella has transformed into something deeply unsettling."
Before I could respond, Jeremy's voice drifted in from behind us. "Hey, uh... I need to tell you something important."
"Jeremy—" I started, hoping to signal him to let Caroline finish.
"What is it?" Caroline asked, her tone demanding.
"It's about when Bella and I were at school today." Jeremy slid into a seat next to Caroline, his expression serious. "You all need to know this."
"What do you mean?" I inquired, feeling a sense of foreboding creeping in.
"I think Bella is in far greater danger than we realize."