To Be Or Not To Be » Stefan Salvatore

Chapter 6 - A New Threat

The day started off simple enough. No chaos. No immediate disasters. No one trying to kill her. A rare thing, really.

Rebekah had asked her to tag along on her little mission to dig up more information about the White Oak. Skye had politely declined. And by politely, she meant mumbling, "Go away," into her pillow while sprawled out on her bed.

She was still recovering from the night before—a marathon of classic films she had apparently needed to see in order to properly understand modern life. She'd spent hours locked in a dark room, the curtains drawn, absorbing the stories and aesthetics of a century she hadn't lived through. It had left her feeling pleasantly detached, relaxed in a way she hadn't been in a while.

Most of the 21st century remained an enigma to her, but she was learning. Slowly.

By one o'clock, her brother had decided he'd had enough of her laziness and unceremoniously yanked her out of bed, ignoring her grumbling protests the entire time.

"Stop whining and suck it up," was all he said, shoving her toward the bathroom.

So, she obeyed—if only because she really needed a shower. She scrubbed the remnants of makeup from her face, let the hot water rinse away the last of her irritation, and stepped out feeling... better. More present.

She needed to stop moping. Needed to do something. If she wanted real connections, real friendships, she had to make an effort. Prove she was worth trusting.

So, when Rebekah texted her later that day asking for help, Skye answered.

Turned out, the old records on the logging mills—the very ones tied to the last known descendant of the White Oak—were owned by the Salvatores back in the early 1900s. Which meant Rebekah wanted information from the brothers themselves.

And apparently, she thought Skye was the key to getting it.

Which was how she found herself at the Mystic Grill, being pulled into the bathroom by her sister. Skye sighed, letting herself be dragged along.

Rebekah checked the stalls to make sure they were alone, then turned toward her with a smirk.

"Look who finally decided to crawl out of bed."

Skye rolled her eyes. "You did ask for my help."

Rebekah placed a hand on her hip, expression scrutinizing. Skye sighed, motioning for her to get on with it.

"I tried to ask them about the records, subtly, of course," Rebekah said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "But they weren't exactly forthcoming. Can't say I blame them, but it's annoying." She leaned in, smiling sweetly. "So now, you get to swoop in, play nice, and get them to talk."

Skye scoffed, mirroring her sister's stance with a hand on her own hip. "So, we're playing 'Good Cop, Bad Cop' now?"

She was rather proud of that one—one of the few references she had picked up from last night's films.

Rebekah rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she looped her arm through Skye's and tugged her out of the bathroom.

Skye watched, mildly amused, as her sister straightened her jacket, plastered on her most charming smile, and strode forward with an air of confidence.

Fine. Showtime.

Skye followed, approaching the Salvatore brothers just as Damon threw a dart at the board. Before it could land, she caught it midair, twirling it between her fingers for effect. It was unnecessary dramatics, but she liked to think it added something.