Try {One | Alaric Saltzman}

Into the Wild

Five Months Later

New York City welcomed Abigail into its frenzy of people without a second glance. She blended in well amongst the chaos, even if she was the cause of it. It was easier that way, she discovered quickly, if she was going to get what she wanted. And all that she wanted was blood.

Billy's, a dark, grungy bar, was the only constant in her life. The neon signs and dark corners were perfect for what she had become. There was a catch, of course, but it benefited her in plenty of ways to make up for it.

"There you go."

"Rock 'n' roll."

"No one says that anymore. You might want to catch up with the times, Billy boy." Will smiled at her, but not in the way she was expecting. "What's with the face?"

"You just remind me of someone..."

She leaned against the doorway, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Well, is that someone the five-foot-seven brunette I've gotten three IDs for?"

"No." He looked down at the driver's license. "But this one, she's a runner. Some vampires need more identities than others."

She turned to leave. "Okay, then..."

"Hey, wait." He was already in front of her. "Be discreet."

"I kill people and give you their IDs, you let me feed in your club." She smiled. "I'm as discreet as you could possibly be in this situation."

From inside the crowd, someone said, "Abigail."

She knew it exactly who it was.

"Don't make me cause a scene."

Still, she ignored them.

"Seriously? Are you really going to make me do this?"

Before she knew it, she was pressed against the wall and the only eyes she could see belonged to Damon.

She pushed him through her front door.

"What the hell do you want, Damon?" She should've sounded any other way.

"It's time for you to come home." He couldn't have sounded any other way.

She motioned around the small studio apartment. "I am home."

"Abigail, I'm not messing around." He planted himself where he stood. "You need to flip the switch the other way and come home. Right now."

"Why would I do that, Damon? There is nothing there for me." Laughing, she poured herself a drink. "And don't give me the Elena sob story. It won't work."

He scoffed. "This isn't you."

"Isn't it?"

"What do you think Alaric would say if he saw you this way?"

"Don't talk about him."

"Why?" He stared at her, watching as the glass cracked in her hand. "Because he made you feel things that you never thought were possible?"