• A tale of love, pain and hope •
Mikaela Lockwood is the younger sister of Tyler Lockwood, and a recently-turned Hybrid. After being turned by Klaus, she becomes sired to him, and kills dozens of people. Her family send her to the 1994 Prison World...
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Kai's POV
If I was a humanity-less Hybrid on a Ripper binge with my side-chick, where would I go?
For a drink, right?
Making my way down the main street through town, I stopped at every single bar I could find.
The first was a karaoke bar filled with locals, all singing and cheering for the latest schmuck on the stage. Currently, a middle-aged man was performing a God-awful rendition of 'Livin' On A Prayer', prancing around like he was the next Jon Bon Jovi. Fighting the urge to snatch the microphone from him to show him how it should be done, I decided this bar was clear of any psycho bitches, then headed out the front door before my ears began to bleed.
Next was a quieter bar, one for the older generation to come and unwind in after a full day's work. One lone bartender stood serving beer to a small group of men who chatted amongst themselves. In the corner sat two women, sipping on their gin and tonic as they complained to each other about the lack of housework their husbands had helped with this week.
When I opened the door to peer inside, the few customers that were placed sparsely around the room all turned to look in my direction. They stared at me in confusion, noticing how I was very much the wrong age to be coming in for a drink all by myself on a Friday night. Flashing them an awkward smile, I turned on my heel and walked back out.
One after the other I checked every building of hospitality, finding each one in the expected condition, no sign of any hell-bent vampires. Nightclubs and restaurants alike, all none the wiser to the danger that was currently on the loose.
Stepping into one club in particular that was filled with a crowd of people, I'd spent a mere thirty seconds searching for dark curls and fangs before a random girl approached me. She grabbed my hand, grinning up at me in her intoxicated state, mumbling about how I was "so hot" and how she wanted to "go home" with me. Taking my hand out of hers, I hastily said goodbye and hurried through the door to freedom.
Heaving a sigh of frustration once I'd returned to the fresh outside air, I dropped my head to look up at the night sky, as if it would give me the answers I was searching for. I was rapidly running out of luck. I'd checked nearly every joint in town and had come up completely blank each time. There was only one place left, perched on the corner of the street - so I headed straight for it.
The moment I arrived at the front door, I instinctively knew something was off. The inside was in complete darkness, the restaurant empty. To any passing human, The Mystic Grill would've appeared closed. But to an intelligent witch on the hunt for his crazy ex-girlfriend who noticed how the lock on the front door had been broken open with force, it was obviously a crime scene.
