[Location: Mystic Falls High School – History Classroom] [Time: 8:30 AM – One Week After Halloween]
The classroom was quiet. The shadow of Mr. Tanner's death still hung over the school, but teenagers are resilient (or callous). The gossip had shifted from "Who killed Tanner?" to "Who is the new teacher?"
I sat in my usual spot. Stefan was next to me.
"Any sign of the new guy?" I whispered.
"Not yet," Stefan said, his eyes on the door. "But the administration said he's qualified. A transfer from Duke."
"Duke," I mused. "Smart."
The door opened.
A man walked in. He was in his early thirties, wearing a plaid shirt and a blazer that had seen better days. He looked rugged, tired, and carried a leather messenger bag.
Alaric Saltzman.
He walked to the chalkboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote his name in messy block letters.
MR. SALTZMAN.
"Good morning," Alaric said. His voice was gravelly. He looked hungover, or maybe just haunted. "I'm Alaric Saltzman. I'll be taking over for Mr. Tanner."
He turned to face the class. His eyes scanned the room.
When his gaze landed on Elena, he paused. Just for a fraction of a second. He recognized her. Not because he knew her, but because she looked exactly like Isobel (her mother/his wife).
Then, his eyes drifted to Stefan. He lingered there too. He knew Stefan was a Salvatore.
I leaned back in my chair.
Target Acquired.
Alaric possessed the Gilbert Ring. A magical ring that brings the wearer back to life if they are killed by a supernatural entity.
As a human player in this game, that ring was the ultimate insurance policy. If I had that ring, Damon could snap my neck, and I'd just wake up a few hours later.
I needed it.
But Alaric wasn't going to just give it to me. He was a vampire hunter. He was here to kill Damon.
I needed to intercept him before he made his move.
[Location: The Mystic Grill] [Time: 4:00 PM]
I sat at the bar, nursing a soda. I had my "AP History" textbook open, but I wasn't reading. I was waiting.
Alaric walked in. He looked like he needed a drink badly.
He sat three stools down from me. "Bourbon. Neat."
Matt poured the drink.
I waited until he took the first sip. Then I slid my textbook over so it "accidentally" knocked into his elbow.
"Whoops," I said, catching the book. "Sorry, Mr. Saltzman. Didn't mean to spill your drink."
Alaric looked at me. He recognized me from the front row. "It's fine. You're... Adrian, right? The one who corrected Tanner on the inflation stats?"
"That's me," I smiled. "The class nerd."
Alaric chuckled darkly. "Nerd is good. Nerds survive."
"Is that the lesson for today?" I asked. "Survival?"
Alaric swirled his drink. "History is just a long list of people trying to survive. Most of them failed."
"Cheery," I said. "So, what brings you to Mystic Falls? Did you lose a bet?"
Alaric looked at me. He was assessing if I was just making small talk or if I was digging.
"I like the history," Alaric lied. "Small towns have... rich stories."
"They have stories, alright," I said, lowering my voice. "Like the 'animal attacks.' You picked a hell of a time to move here, Mr. Saltzman."
Alaric turned on his stool to face me fully. "You seem like a smart kid, Adrian. What's your take on the 'animal attacks'?"
This was a test. He was hunting for intel.
"I think the Sheriff is doing her best," I said diplomatically. "But I think there are things in the woods that aren't in the textbooks."
I tapped the cover of my history book.
"My dad works in restoration," I said casually. "He finds things in the walls of these old houses. Diaries. Weird lockets. Rings."
I glanced at Alaric's right hand.
He was wearing it. The Gilbert Ring. A heavy silver band with a black stone.
"Nice ring," I said. "Family heirloom?"
Alaric instinctively covered it with his other hand. "Something like that."
"It looks like the crest from the Gilbert family," I observed. "Jeremy Gilbert—the kid in your 3rd period—has a sketch of one just like it."
Alaric stiffened. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. He says his ancestor, Jonathan Gilbert, made them. Said they were 'protection' rings." I took a sip of my soda. "Superstitious nonsense, right?"
Alaric stared at me. He was rattled. I knew too much.
"You know a lot about local lore," Alaric said quietly.
"I pay attention," I said. "And I know that Jonathan Gilbert was a member of the Council. The secret one."
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Are you implying something, Adrian?"
"I'm implying that if you're interested in 'protection' rings," I said, standing up and grabbing my bag, "you might want to be careful. History in this town has a way of repeating itself. And the guys who wear those rings usually end up fighting things bigger than them."
I dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter for Matt.
"See you in class, Mr. Saltzman."
I walked away.
Seed planted. I let him know I recognized the ring. I let him know I knew about the Council. Now, he would watch me. And when he went after Damon, he might come to me for backup.
[Location: The Salvatore Boarding House – Living Room] [Time: 7:00 PM]
I walked in without knocking. I was an ally now.
Damon was playing darts. He was throwing them with terrifying velocity. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
"You're brave," Damon said, not looking at me. "Walking in here during feeding time."
"I brought a peace offering," I said, pulling a brown paper bag from my satchel.
I tossed it to him.
Damon caught it. He opened it.
It was a blood bag. O-Negative. Stolen from the hospital supply (my mom's ID badge was very useful).
Damon raised an eyebrow. "Stolen hospital goods? I'm touched."
"I figured if you're well-fed, you're less likely to eat the pizza delivery guy," I said, sitting on the sofa.
"True," Damon said, tearing the bag open with his teeth. He drank deeply. "So, what's the gossip, little hunter? Who are we killing today?"
"Nobody," I said. "But you have a new problem."
"I have lots of problems," Damon wiped his mouth. "Stefan's hair, for one."
"The new history teacher," I said. "Alaric Saltzman."
Damon paused. "What about him?"
"He's asking questions," I said. "He asked about the animal attacks. He asked about the Gilberts. And he wears a ring that looks... magical."
Damon laughed. "A teacher with a magic ring? What is he, a warlock?"
"No," I said seriously. "He's a hunter, Damon. I've seen the ring before in the archives. It protects the wearer from death by supernatural causes."
Damon's amusement vanished. "A resurrection ring?"
"Yes. Which means if you try to kill him... he won't stay dead. And he'll come back pissed."
I was manipulating Damon. In the show, Damon kills Alaric, Alaric comes back, and they eventually become drinking buddies. I wanted to accelerate that.
"So," Damon mused. "We have a hunter in the classroom."
"Don't kill him," I advised.
"Why not?"
"Because if he can't die, he's an annoying enemy," I said. "But... if he hates vampires, maybe we can aim him at someone else."
"Like who?"
"Like Logan Fell," I lied. (I knew Logan was dead, but Damon didn't know I knew). "Or the Tomb Vampires when they get out."
Damon looked at me with genuine curiosity. "You think like a general, Adrian. It's disturbing."
"It's survival," I said. "Leave Alaric alone for now. Let me figure out what he wants."
"Fine," Damon shrugged. "I'll let the teacher live. For now. But if he grades me poorly..."
"Damon," I interrupted. "There's one more thing."
I reached into my bag and pulled out a folder.
Inside was the genealogy of the Lockwood Family.
"I analyzed Tyler Lockwood's blood," I said.
Damon froze. "You what?"
"From the fight at the party," I explained. "I scraped it off the grass. I ran it in the lab at Whitmore."
"And?"
"His cells are weird," I said. "They don't match human DNA. They have an extra... marker."
Damon walked over and took the folder. He looked at the charts he didn't understand.
"What are you saying?" Damon asked.
"I'm saying the Lockwoods aren't human," I said. "And if they aren't human, and they aren't vampires... what are they?"
Damon stared at me. He knew the myths.
"Werewolves," Damon whispered. "I thought they were extinct."
"Apparently not," I said. "Tyler is a loaded gun. If he triggers that curse... a werewolf bite kills a vampire, doesn't it?"
Damon looked at me. For the first time, he looked actually concerned.
"Yes," Damon said quietly. "It does."
"So," I stood up. "We have a Hunter at the school. We have a Werewolf family running the Council. And we have the Tomb Vampires waiting to get out."
I adjusted my jacket.
"We need to stick together, Damon. Or we're all going to die."
Damon looked at the blood bag in his hand, then at me.
"You're not a pet anymore, Adrian," Damon said, a dark smile forming. "You're a partner."
"Glad we agree."
I walked to the door.
Status Update: Damon warned about Alaric (prevents premature conflict). Damon warned about Lockwoods (shifts his focus to Tyler). Alliance solidified.
Now, I just had to steal that ring from Alaric.
[Location: The Cross Residence – Garage] [Time: 11:00 PM]
I was working on the Gilbert Watch again.
I had amplified the signal, but I needed range.
Suddenly, a noise.
Clatter.
It came from outside the garage door.
I froze.
I looked at the watch.
Silent. No vibration.
So it wasn't a vampire.
I grabbed the crowbar from the bench. I moved silently to the side door.
I threw it open.
Standing there, dressed in black, holding a lockpick set, was Jeremy Gilbert.
He jumped back, dropping the tools. "Whoa! Don't hit me!"
"Jeremy?" I lowered the crowbar. "What the hell are you doing creeping around my garage at midnight?"
Jeremy looked guilty. He looked... empty. The compulsion had taken away his grief, but it left a void. He was looking for something to fill it.
"I... I wanted to see the journals," Jeremy stammered. "You said your dad had old journals. About the town."
"So you decided to break in?"
"I knocked!" Jeremy lied. "You didn't answer. And I saw the light on."
I looked at him. He was searching for answers. He knew something was missing from his mind, and he thought the history of the town held the key.
I stepped back.
"Come in," I said.
Jeremy walked in. He looked at my workbench. The soldering iron. The watch. The maps.
"You're not just reading journals, are you?" Jeremy asked, looking at the map of Mystic Falls with red pins in it.
I looked at Jeremy.
He was compelled to forget Vicki. But he wasn't stupid.
If I brought him in... I could mold him. I could make him a Hunter for me, not for the Council.
"No, Jeremy," I said, closing the garage door. "I'm not."
I walked over to the mini-fridge and tossed him a soda.
"You want to know what's really going on in this town?" I asked.
Jeremy nodded. "Yes. I feel like... like I'm going crazy. Like everyone is lying to me."
"They are," I said.
I leaned against the workbench.
"Sit down, Jeremy. This is going to be a long night."
I was about to recruit my first soldier.
[End of Chapter 16]