PART SIX: MYSTIC FALLS

AS GOOD as it felt to have my best friend back, we still weren't even close to finding Katerina . It's been two hundred years since she slipped through my fingers, never once seen again. If there was one thing she was good at, it was hiding. Unfortunately for her, the one thing I am good at is running.

There's been great progress within civilization; postage stamps and mail delivery have become popular, as well as photography. New inventions are the only time I don't feel disappointed in the human race. Thanks to the new system of mail, I'm now able to communicate with Lexi better. She demanded that we write to one another each month just to see how we're doing. Last I heard she was in California.

In all honesty I hold my breath every time I read her letters. Each time they say the same thing, scolding me about how I'm wasting my life. I've heard the same bloody thing for the past eight hundred years, and by now I'm practically immune to its effects on me. I've come to terms that I never really will find meaning to my life. I feel as if destroying Klaus is the only thing going for me. I know when it comes down to it, Elijah will leave once we end Klaus, and I'll be alone with nothing to do. All my life I've done nothing but torment and run from Klaus, slowly drowning myself in the darkness of it all. I fear that when I rise to the surface, I'll have forgotten how to breathe.

"Here." Elijah walks through the front door of our small apartment. We've taken up a small living space in a small town called Harrisville, Virginia. We were drawn here by the amount of witches, and surprisingly they've been more than happy to help track down the mighty Klaus Mikaelson. The only thing is, with no personal item of his to help create a locator spell, it's extremely difficult to find him. "All the mail is for you," he says, sliding two envelopes across the table to me.

I recognize Lexi's handwriting and immediately toss that letter to the side, not really in the mood to read it now. The other one however contains handwriting that I'm unfamiliar with. With creased brows I cut open the envelope and scan over the letter.

Katherine? Must be what Katerina is going by now.

Elijah," I call, being half way through the letter. As soon as my eyes scan the words 'Mystic Falls', I already know what we have to do.

"Who's it from?" he questions curiously, peering over my shoulder at the crumpled piece of paper. "Rose? You two still talk?" He cracks a smile. "Are you two... you know, a thing?"

I drop the letter on the table and close my eyes, letting out an irritated sigh. "If we were a thing, don't you think she'd be here right now?" I roll my eyes.

Elijah shrugs, taking a bite out of his apple casually. "Maybe you two send intimate letters or something like pen pals." He smirks, amusing himself.

"For Christs sake Elijah, we aren't a thing." I shake my head. "We never had a thing, or at least I didn't." I explain, refusing to take my memory back to that night.

"But you two kissed..." Elijah furrows his brows.

"People kiss people all the time. It doesn't always mean much," I say. "And how do you know that?" I turn around to face him with a puzzled expression.

"That's not important," he dismisses, totally dodging the question like a flying bullet. "What's important is that you two have unsolved business."

"There's nothing to solve Elijah. I didn't like her like that, and I told her. We're just friends." I assure him confidently. If I really liked Rose I would know. All she is to me is an amazing friend, and I'm grateful to have her by my side.

"You sure?" He raises his brow.

"I'm sure. Besides, I don't have time for that love crap anyways. Revenge duty is a full time job apparently." I huff a light laugh, only breathing air through my nose. It's one of those laughs that's not really a laugh but only a sarcastic attempt at laughing to ease reality.

"It never hurts to catch a break Jay." Elijah pats me on the back. "You'll find someone eventually. I know it."

"In this world I don't think that's possible," I mutter under my breath. "We need to hit the road again," I inform him, leaning back against my chair.

"Where to?" he asks.

"Mystic Falls."

∆ ∆ ∆

The plan we hatched was simple. We were to find our way in to wherever Katherine was staying, and from there we would retrieve the moonstone and be on our way.

We arrived to Mystic Falls an hour ago, and while I scouted the area for any signs of Katherine, Elijah was setting up a place for me to stay. I was to be the bait, to take Katherine off guard while Elijah handled the stone and Klaus in case he were to show up.

"Here." Elijah slaps a piece of paper onto my chest.

"Man, this place has changed huh?" I whisper in a daze, staring at the new and improved town of Mystic Falls. Even though I haven't been here in over eight hundred years, it still feels like home. All the memories of my childhood overpower the horrid one of us slaughtering this town. Seeing how this place has risen from the ashes and improved so severely makes me feel a little better.

This town is resilient, that's for sure.

"What is this?" I question, reading the paper.

"I just spoke to a man named Giuseppe Salvatore, and got you an apprentice job," Elijah says, stuffing his hands into his pockets as we stand in the middle of town.

"Doing what?" I question fearfully, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Hunting I think." He smiles amusingly.

"Great. You had to pick that one didn't ya." I roll my eyes.

"Actually, I picked that house for a specific reason," he says, catching my attention. "That happens to be the location our dear friend Katherine Pierce is staying at, from what I've been told," he explains, no doubt having compelled this information out of people.

"Is that the name she's going by now?" I scoff. "Pierce my ass," I mutter under my breath.

"Hey," Elijah asks seriously, stepping in front of me. "Are you going to be able to do this, without your anger getting in the way?"

I look him in the eye, feeling rather offended right now. "Of course," I say firmly. "Can we talk about why the hell you're wearing a full on suit?" I tease, never failing to poke fun at his professional attire.

"What do you mean?" He looks down at his outfit as if he's forgotten what he's wearing. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

"You do you my friend, you do you." I pat him on the shoulder before heading off towards a horse and carriage across the street, the driver already compelled thanks to Elijah. "I'll meet with you tonight by the river bank and tell you what I know," I yell at Elijah as I get into the seat.

He only shakes his head at me, probably pissed I picked at his suit. He loves his suits, and teasing him about that is like a straight invitation to hell.

Still smiling to myself, I watch out the window of the carriage at the passing trees and large houses. You can tell by the large white houses which ones belong to the founding families. I'm surprised when the carriage stops in front of the Salvatore house to learn that the Salvatore's are a founding family too.

I slowly step out of the carriage, a small suitcase in hand to make it look more believable. I'm supposed to be pretending I'm from overseas, hence my British accent. I'm playing a 20 year old man who has just come to The United States in search of a job. Giuseppe Salvatore has decided to teach me about the art of hunting.

I use the idea of finding the moonstone a reason to act excited as I walk up the steps to the house. I glance up for a split second, hearing someone yell from a window on the top floor. I don't see the girl's face, only the raven black hair as she turns back inside.

Just as I'm about to knock on the door, it opens for me taking me off guard. Behind the large wooden door is a young man, probably around my age. He has raven hair and icy blue eyes that look like they could pierce right through my skull.

"Ah, hello." I clear my throat awkwardly. "Is Giuseppe Salvatore here?" I ask, peering around his shoulder.

"Are you that apprentice?" He narrows his eyes at me.

"I am." I nod, my attention drawn towards a group of people walking towards the door.

"Damon, get away from the door." I hear a man grumble, his feet pounding against the floor heavily. The man has thin grey hair and a round body structure, probably from all the beer. I can smell alcohol radiating from him so strongly that I hold my breath. I watch with a frozen posture as the man yanks the boy, Damon, from the door, pulling him to the side. "Pardon my son," the man grumbles.

The way this man holds authority gives me the assumption that he's Giuseppe, and so far he seems like a bit of a dick. Of course Katherine had to choose this place.

"Good afternoon, sir. My name is James Branson." I hold out my hand. I keep myself outside the door frame as nobody has invited me in yet.

"Mr.Branson, my new apprentice?" The man asks roughly, glancing me up and down.

"Yes sir," I reply, my grip tightening on my bag slung across my shoulder.

"Good," he says while shaking my hand. The way he stares me down makes me rather uncomfortable, like he's studying my physical appearance. I guess if this is an apprentice in hunting, you've got to be fit.

I guess it's moments like these where I should be thankful I was turned in my prime years of youth. However, I'm never thankful for becoming a vampire.

"Damon, show this young man to his room," Giuseppe shouts while still staring at me. He stares at me with such intensity I find myself wanting to look away, but I don't. I refuse to look away first, as stubborn as I am. Thankfully Giuseppe leaves the room, giving me the satisfaction that I stood my ground.

"Yes sir," Damon says, nodding as his father walks past.

"Well don't just let the man stand there. Grab his things!" Giuseppe chastises the boy. "Please, come in James. Don't mind these fools," he huffs under his breath.

While Giuseppe strolls off with anger, I walk in with relief, letting out a huge breath I didn't realize I was holding. If nobody invited me in, I would have been screwed.

"Stefan, help me take his bag," Damon instructs, grabbing my bag.

"Thank you." I smile faintly, watching as Damon passes the bag off to another young man, probably in his late teens. Judging by their similar face structure, I'd say they're brothers.

They turn around as if wanting me to follow them, but I stay in place wondering if this is really the right move. What if Katherine isn't here? What if she doesn't have the moonstone. All of this trouble would have been for nothing.

I take in a deep breath before stepping through the door, closing it behind me. I'm about to walk down the large hallway when suddenly I catch a silhouette out of the corner of my eye. Leaning against the doorframe to the living room is a beautiful young woman with raven black hair.

It's not so much her presence that startles me, but rather her icy blue eyes, similar to that of the boy Damon's. Unlike Damon's eyes however that seemed to pierce right through my body, her eyes are more soft yet still intense if that's even possible. They stare at me with such mystery, such intensity that I forget what I'm supposed to be doing for a second.

"You coming, Mr.Branson?" Damon calls to me, pulling me out of this subconscious state I appear to be in. I can't remember the last time I felt so lost for words while looking at someone. It appears for a moment all the vengeance, anger and fury I feel for Klaus drained from my veins, replaced with something else.

It was just a glance, yet it felt like so much more. I could've sworn we had a conversation, connected somehow, but I never heard the sound of her voice.

Shaking the thought out of my head, I open my mouth to speak, wanting to introduce myself just so I can hear her voice when suddenly she gives a slight nod and peers around the corner, disappearing from my sight.

"Coming," I whisper, biting my lip as I walk down the hallway and up the stairs, quickly scanning the house to see where she went. It seems as if she's vanished though, her petite figure no where to be found.

"Your room is in here." Damon stops at an open door, the younger boy Stefan inside placing my bag on the bed.

"Thank you." I give a quick nod.

As they leave, I close the door and lean against it, composing my thoughts. I find myself having a hard time focusing, my brain scattered about with no focal point in sight. Everything keeps coming back to that feeling I felt earlier while I glanced at that girl. I've forgotten what it felt like not to be consumed by such vengeance, not to be caught up in the middle of a revenge scheme fuelled by anger. It was rather nice to catch a breath.

For the next little while I find myself wandering the hallways, becoming familiar with the place. It's nice but awfully empty, like it's too big for the amount of occupants living here. For the hour I walked around and spoke with Giuseppe, I didn't cross paths with anyone- not even the girl.

Around sundown I found myself back in my room, going through it's contents. There was a shelf across the room with closed boxes, some of them taped shut with string like they aren't meant to be opened. That only sparks my curiosity, as I effortlessly rip the string off, revealing the box's contents. In it contains several pieces of paper, each with some sort of drawing presented on them.

I hold one up and run my finger over the fine lines of the dried black ink. Most of them are nature drawings, of trees and roses. However, none of them have a name displayed on them.

I gently place the papers back into the box, pushing it back on the shelf when suddenly I push too hard, sending items from the top shelf tumbling down. I let out a small shout of surprise, falling to the ground as several ink jars smack upon my head, one of them even cracking open. I moan as the thick black ink drips down my face, getting all over my hands.

To my luck, the door to my room is suddenly pushed open, the mystery girl standing by the entrance with a hand over her mouth as she tries to hide her smile. "Sir, are you alright?" she asks, holding in a laugh.

I realize this is the first time I'm hearing her voice, and of course it just happens to be under the worst circumstances. It's sightly raspy without being too loud, gentle without being too soft; it's comforting.

"Y-yes, I'm quite fine, thank you ma'am," I reply with a small smile, casually sitting on the floor.

"What happened?" she asks with a faint chuckle, still trying to be polite and hide her amusement.

I stand up and wipe my hands on my trousers, meeting her icy blue eyes again. "I was going through these beautiful drawings, and then this box fell on top of me. I didn't realize it was ink. I apologize," I say sincerely, trying to hide my embarrassment.

She simply nods and hands me a towel from the hall closet, passing it off to me so I can clean myself off. "Thank you." I smile, our hands brushing as I take the towel from her hand.

"No worries...," she pauses, waiting for me to insert my name.

"James, James Branson," I say with a smile.

"Don't worry Mr.Branson, I placed the box in a hurry yesterday. I mustn't have stored it well enough," she apologizes.

I find myself grinning even wider as she blushes, quickly turning around to leave the room. "Oh, and my name's Blair," she says before closing the door.

I stand in the middle of the room with the goofiest smile on my face. I can't remember the last time I felt so happy.

∆ ∆ ∆

It's nearing the evening, and the house is filled with such a delightful smell, I find myself growing hungry, and for once it's not for blood.

I've managed to fix myself up, changing into a new pair of clothing. Just as I'm fixing the the collar of my shirt, my hearing catches two female voices arguing in the distance. I recognize both of their voices, but the one I'm most concerned about is Blair's.

"Are you looking for something?" I hear a voice ask rather rudely.

"No Miss Katherine, I was just leaving," I hear Blair say.

"No you're not," the other voice snarls, dripping with poisonous venom that even sends chills down my spine.

I turn the corner into the room they stand in, walking in just as Katherine holds Blair against her neck, hovering her fangs above her flesh just waiting to dive in. The sight of Katherine is already enough to release anger in my veins, but as she holds Blair so effortlessly against her will I find myself feeling a new kind of anger.

"Katherine!" I shout, directing her attention.

She freezes and closes her mouth, her fangs vanished as she looks at me with wide eyes, as if she's seen a ghost. "James," she says with a gulp, trying to hide her fear.

"Let her go." I demand, my hands balled into fists at my sides. Katherine hesitates, gripping on tighter to Blair causing her to shift uncomfortably on her feet. "Let her go Katherine, or so help me god I will not hesitate to rip your throat out." I threaten with a low growl.

Katherine clenches her jaw before finally giving in, doing as I say. She roughly pushes Blair towards me, stumbling into my chest. I hold her gently with my hands, her whole body shaking with fear. "You're okay now," I compel her. "Go downstairs and forget this ever happened."

Blair doesn't say anything as she robotically heads out the door. I hate compelling people, but I have to remind myself it's for her own safety.

"What are you doing here James?" Katherine growls at me, clearly annoyed at my presence. The fact that I've managed to take her off guard is already pleasing me.

"What are you doing here Katherine? This is an innocent family. Just because your life is pathetic doesn't mean you need to go ruining their lives," I say rather harshly, not regretting a single word.

"I am not ruining their lives, simply making it better," she says innocently. "You should see how tightly I have them wrapped around my little fingers, specifically those Salvatore boys." She smirks, like manipulating other people is no big deal. "Haven't been able to get through to that pestering girl however. I need to get rid of her," she says while staring down at her fingernails casually.

"The moonstone Katherine, where is it?" I demand with anger, inching closer to her.

"You came all this way for that silly thing?" She coughs out a laugh.

"That silly thing was the only thing keeping you alive, remember?" I step closer until we're no more than a foot apart, my height overpowering her and giving me the upper hand. I can tell by the way she breaths so shallowly, how scared she is. Never did I think I'd see the day the mighty Katerina Petrova would portray such emotion.

"I don't have it anymore, Branson," she spits, going to move past me when suddenly I snatch her wrist, holding her in place.

"The moonstone. Now," I demand in a low, threatening growl.

She glances up at me, desperately trying to think her way out of this when suddenly Damon appears at the door. "Dinner is ready," he says awkwardly, Katherine and I instantly moving apart from one another.

I don't feel safe with her being here, nor do I feel safe with her around Blair and her brothers. I can tell she's up to something which means I need to keep an eye on them.

∆ ∆ ∆

The dinner conversation is rather awkward, Katherine leading most of the talk. I can tell how much the Salvatore brothers Stefan and Damon admire her, as they practically drool every time she speaks.

Blair sits across from me, keeping silent for the majority of the time. She only speaks when spoken to, and looks down at her plate every time Katherine talks- which is basically the whole dinner. I can tell how she holds herself, tall yet secretive. She's built herself a wall, concealing herself behind it. I know she does it to protect herself, but I can't help but want to tear it down. I want to know her, want to understand her.

Giuseppe sits at the end of the table, with the seat opposite to him vacant. Usually it's the two parents that sit at either ends of the table, which leads me to believe something's happened to the mother.

"So, where are you from James?" Giuseppe asks as a maid takes away his plate.

I'm about to reply with Mystic Falls, but then I remember I'm supposed to be acting as an English man from across seas. "London, England," I say, correcting myself.

Blair looks up for the first time all dinner, listening to me talk. Now that I've got her engaged and interested I feel more inclined to speak. "You are one of the founding families, correct?" I ask, my question directed to Blair.

She seems surprised that I'm talking to her, a faint blush covering her face. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, Giuseppe cuts in.

"Indeed we are," he says with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. "The Salvatores, the Gilberts, the Forbes, the Lockwoods, the Fells- all of them founding families," he explains.

I nod while pretending to be fascinated as Blair gets up out of her seat, collecting her plate. "It would be smart if you'd collect everybody's plates, now wouldn't it Blair?" Giuseppe sneers, narrowing his eyes at his daughter.

Blair doesn't say anything, only increases her pace while picking up everybody else's plates. "Wow, so kind of you Blair, thank you doll." Katherine smiles at her, her voice so fake. I watch their exchange, smiling as Blair sends her a glare.

"Let me help." I stand up out of my seat, taking my plate and Giuseppe's.

"Nonsense. The girl can do it herself." He urges me to sit back down, but the way he addresses Blair rather puts me on edge. The way he called her girl instead of daughter.

"I insist," I say, pushing farther until Giuseppe has no choice but to let me help clean up. He only waves his hand, dismissing the conflict.

"Thank you," Stefan says appreciatively as I take his plate.

I send him a nod while following Blair into the kitchen, standing beside her at the sink. "Just so you know, I don't like Katherine very much." I smile, taking the plates from her as I proceed to wash them.

She glances over at me, my height causing her to look up. "Yeah, she's about as useful as a chocolate teapot," she says, causing me to look over at her in surprise. A large smile crosses my face at her sudden use of humour. Out of all people I wouldn't expect the quiet mystery girl to retort such sarcasm. Maybe she's not as innocent as she seems.

I laugh as I scrub the dishes, handing them over to her as she dries them. "My father isn't always like that by the way," she suddenly says. This time it's her starting the conversation. "He fell apart when my mother died. I can't blame him," she says quietly.

"How did your mother die?" I ask, testing the waters of the touchy subject.

Blair only shrugs, her face completely blank. "She got sick," is all she says.

I pause and stop washing the dishes, looking over at her with compassion. "I lost my mother too." I place a hand on hers, the two of us staying silent for a moment as we share a moment of grief. I feel comfortable speaking to her, as I rarely speak about my mother. I can tell by the way she so willingly talks and looks at me, that she feels comfortable too.

"How?" she asks after a few moments.

"She got sick too." I purse my lips as I look back down at the sink, wallowing in my grim thoughts. It's been centuries since I've thought about my mother. It feels like that chapter of my life, that part of me that was human, that was young and had a mother is so out of reach of the person I am now.

"I'm sorry," she whispers lowly, the words barely audible.

I smile faintly, the corners of my lips directing upwards just a tad. "Me too."

She reaches across the sink to grab another plate, the sleeve of her dress pulling up revealing a fresh, bright red bruise on her forearm in a circular shape, resembling that of a fist. It's as if she used her arm to block some sort of hit.

Instinctively I reach out and wrap my hand around her wrist, inching her arm towards me as I take a better look. Before I have a chance to do anything further, Blair yanks her arm from my grasp. I have to remind myself not to use any strength as I fear any amount of force will hurt her.

"When did this happen-"

"It's nothing," she assures me, rolling her sleeve back down self consciously.

"You can talk to me you know." I drop everything and pivot to her, giving her my full attention. "If it's your father-"

"It wasn't," she cuts me off. She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath as if taking in more courage that will give her strength to speak. I miss that about being human; miss the feeling fresh air can have on you. Although as a vampire I still need air, my lungs will never be as resourceful in the sense that oxygen can extinguish the fire within you rather than empower it.

"It wasn't my father this time." She opens her eyes again, looking at me.

"Then who was it, Blair?" Her name seems to roll off my tongue so easily now.

"Katherine," she says in a whisper, as if saying her name will draw her here.

With that Blair turns and heads down the hall, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my thoughts. The more I think about it the more I feel inclined to speed across the kitchen into the dining room and rip Katherine's heart from her chest. Nothing would satisfy me more, but for Blair's sake I keep that dangerous part of me hidden.

For now I will stay in my lane, simply watching every move the doppelgänger takes and prepare myself for the moment she will slip up.

∆ ∆ ∆

Later in the evening once almost all the the lights are out, I find myself sitting in Giuseppe's massive office, desperately trying not to let my personal anger towards him ruin the cover I am supposed to be presenting. Can't have the apprentice fired on the first day. Elijah would really kill me then.

"There's something you should know about me, son." Giuseppe takes a sip of his rum, standing across from me. "I'm not your ordinary hunter."

"I didn't come here for ordinary, sir," I reply intelligently, sitting straight in the chair with my hands clasped across my lap in a civilized manner.

Giuseppe stands there with a sly smirk on his face, staring me down. I can only hope he is looking at me with admiration rather than hatred. The last thing I need is to be kicked out of the very house Katherine is staying at.

"Tell me James," he says as he walks over to me, kneeling down beside me. "Do you believe in vampires?"

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[complete & edited: 08/21/17]