Suspecting that the Salvatores' mother is capable of turning Stefan's humanity back on, Caroline leaves before she can get emotionally triggered as well. This takes off after their encounter in the bar. Follows 6x18 and deviates slightly from the following episodes on TVD, takes all events on TO into account.

1. It won't be enough for you

Caroline is on the verge of being pissed. The fact that annoyance is a sensation that sticks around despite suppressed humanity doesn't help. She didn't think that ridding herself of emotions would be such a selective process.

Who the hell decides which feelings fit the human category anyway?

Just when she's having such a good time. She's enjoying herself, for god's sake, and none of them can see it. She hasn't caused that much damage. It's been only a few days and her so-called friends are already putting all their efforts into bringing her back. As if that would be an improvement.

She scoffs, pushing the door to the residence hall a touch too hard. It gets her one or two surprised looks as the hinges rattle but she's already down the hall.

One year. All she's asking for is some freedom to do what she wants, to deal with things on her terms and they can't even allow her that. She could have really enjoyed this time with Stefan, now that they're on the same page. Well, were.

She is pretty sure Damon has gotten to him. Dragging their mom out to shock him is a smart move. She isn't even surprised about this woman being back from the dead or whatever. Nobody seems to stay dead these days.

She brushes it off. It's exceptionally nice to not be affected by something as trivial as concern for others. It was good with him while it lasted, quite the stress-relief. Now she can move onto different aspirations.

Reaching her dorm room, she barely takes note that it's empty. She figures Elena is playing nurse again and who knows what Bonnie is up to these days. She doesn't care to keep track, now that her friends have become such a hassle.

It does make the logistics easier though because there are no necks to break on the way out. She drags her suitcase out from under her bed, flipping it open. Considering it now, she should probably have done this the moment she turned it off.

Clothes fly into the suitcase, shoes into a duffel and essentials into her favourite handbag. Her passport … why not? She can always compel herself a flight to the Bahamas if she feels like it. How has this not occurred to her before?

She's not bothered with torturing unsuspecting students anymore. A couple of days in and it's getting repetitive to stick with the same people. It's obvious that she won't get to enjoy this time while her roommates are adamant to keep her contained.

Doesn't everyone take a term off to travel anyway? She doesn't have much aside from her studies that tie her down here. Not even those matter, she can always retake a year. There are really better things to do with her time.

For the sake of keeping up the façade though, she'll send an email to the coordinator when she's on the road. She will have to swap her major anyway, since the only competent theatre director in this school has lost his head. Literally.

It's a shame, she's sure she could have gotten the lead in the play even without vampire persuasion.

Caroline pauses on her way out the door, glancing at herself in the mirror. She supposes she should feel something at the sight, have a semblance of deep thought about what she's doing here and the consequences she'll face in a year. Her emotional version can stare at this image lost in thought.

But right now, she is looking into the eyes of someone else. This girl only takes time to approve the absence of evidence. She doesn't want to deal with witnesses in case someone notices her departure and blood spatters tend to stand out. Plus, she likes this dress.

Slinging her duffel over her shoulder, she leaves the dorm and heads into the light.

She wastes one more thought on Stefan as she settles into her car. Wonders if she should leave a message in case he resists the emotional bombardment. Then again, that's an unnecessary risk she isn't prepared to take for him. Or for anyone, not anymore.

If the situation in the bar ends the way she imagines, she's better off staying away. And if he really succeeds in outsmarting his brother, she has a phone. Twenty-first century perks, there's always a way to get hold of people.

Her foot pushes the accelerator towards the floor as she turns off campus and heads away from Whitmore. She could have taken some snacks for the road, she muses. There were a bunch of students around the dorms who would have done nicely.

Then again, they could have bled across her seats and she won't have that. Getting those cleaned would mean an extra pit stop.

She absently wonders why she ever worried about being a materialistic person? If that makes her shallow, she couldn't care less.

As the landscape rushes past her, she takes a moment to consider a destination. She could catch some sun in Miami. Shop her way through New York. Maybe a trip out to Chicago?

Now that she's decided dropped any pretence of worrying about her conscience or the relationships that kept her here, she sees Virginia for how boring it is. It's surprising she managed to entertain herself here until now.

When there's no more guilt to feed, the options are endless. She can drive all the way across the continent if she feels like it and then right back around. Decisions, decisions…

Heading west sounds good in any case; there are larger distances to cover before she hits the coast. Lots to see, lots of delicious throats. California, the ultimate playground for people who think they're special or just want to get away from their old lives – she's never been there either.

Glancing at her phone on the passenger seat, she notes missed calls. Elena, Elena and more Elena. The most recent one is Stefan. She's not taking that chance just yet.

She switches it off, turns up the radio and takes a left at the next intersection.


When she makes it to Nashville in the early morning, she is dying to get her hands on some locals. Fifteen minutes of cruising and she spots a Starbucks ahead. Perfect.

She's starting to develop a taste for baristas at this point and there's literally nothing an iced latte can't fix.

She pulls into an empty parking spot, stretches languidly in her seat. Never mind the hours of driving, she likes this independence already. Her heels click against the tarmac and when she steps into the place, her eyes instantly fall on the young women behind the counter.

It's early enough so the café is close to empty and she throws the girl, most likely a college student, a smile. Caroline's gaze flicks to the nametag. Stacey.

She waits until she gets the order with her name spelled wrong – why would anyone write it with a K? - before she makes a move.

She barely needs to make an effort to compel the pretty thing to show her to the restroom. A glance around tells her everyone is still engrossed in newspapers and laptops. Then she's pushing the girl into one of the stalls with a hushed instruction to stand still and buries her teeth in the wrist.

She's not particularly ravenous but the memory of feeding with Stefan the other night flashes back before she can help herself. The way they had the human powerless, a bleeding ragdoll under her fingers. She watches the glassy expression on Stacey's face as she drinks her fill and is ever so tempted to sink her fangs into a different vein.

But her aversion to being found trumps the desire and that has her drawing back, tilting the wrist over her coffee and watching the liquid stain red. Not quite as good as straight from the body but it'll do.

She's in control and that's what she needs right now.

Stefan may have been right about letting go but she's doing it in healthy doses. A little more distance can't hurt before she lets loose. Compelling the girl to believe she cut herself by accident, she leaves a little more satisfied.

No bodies in broad daylight just yet.

She allows herself to stay in the vibrant city for a night, checks into a hotel downtown and takes a stroll through the area. The bustle calls to her, she already loves the activity here and there's music all over the place.

She hasn't been in a big city for a while. She even pays a visit to the Country Music Hall of Fame, not that she would ever admit she used to be a fan. Now, the melodies of love, sunshine and breakups sound ridiculous to her.

She's treating herself to a pre-dinner gin tonic when someone catches her eye from across the room. It's a nice bar that she opted for and she doubts the person is one to watch out for only because he is eye-stalking her.

He looks harmless enough, casual clothes and a slumped posture as he leans over the burger and fries sitting in front of him. Still, she makes a mental note.

He's not being overt but she picks up on the glances in her direction when she's looking the other way. Only ever directed at her and if she had been emotional Caroline, she would have been either flattered or creeped out by the attention.

She lets an ice cube melt on her tongue as she considers the possibilities. Just some guy who is interested? A person the Salvatores sent to keep track of her? Not that she thinks they have any actual friends outside Mystic Falls but she wouldn't put it past them. A hundred something years is a while to make acquaintances.

He could also be potential dinner but she decides a moment later that she doesn't care enough to make an effort. Her gin is more enticing. If he decides to stalk her any longer, she can still make a decision about snapping his neck or feeding.

Caroline orders another drink instead. She wants to find a place to dance tonight, maybe some rich-kid party with good alcohol or a decent concert where she can potentially fool around with a musician. Anything more intriguing than the not-so-inconspicuous-guy.

She doesn't look back when she walks out but is not all that surprised when he follows. He's careful enough, keeping his distance but she's attentive now. And she's great at that while appearing absorbed in the life on the streets.

She lets it go on for half an hour before she's annoyed enough to do something about it. So when she spots his unruly head across the road again, she picks up her pace and turns a corner.

Caroline is a fast learner and it barely takes her five minutes until she finds a fitting location. The sun is reflecting off the windows of the buildings ahead, low enough for her to know dusk is settling soon.

She dips into a side street between apartment blocks and waits patiently, holding her breath. He doesn't keep her long.

She's barely counted to thirty when he hurries past and all she has to do is grab him and toss him against the wall. She's prepared to react first when he reaches for her throat, trying to shove her backwards. A square kick delivered to his knee and he sags against the brick.

A strangled hiss escapes him, not the scream she was expecting. Vampire then, anyone else would have gotten seriously hurt. Judging from the rising dark veins under his eyes, he's also an angry one.

Wow, he must be even younger or at least more inexperienced than her if he didn't see the ambush coming. Maybe he's got more potential for excitement than she initially thought.

"It's much more charming to buy a lady a drink, you know," she scolds, delivering another kick to the abdomen before he can stand again, "Who are you?"

He just grimaces, hair falling into his eyes as he catches his breath. He looks like one of those permanently broke, dishevelled street artists, not the kind of obedient vampire thugs she's used to. Caroline raises her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

He doesn't make a move to lunge back at her even though his fangs are out. She's a little confused here. What is he waiting for? No retaliation for the shattered kneecap?

Apparently he is not the impulsive kind. Or the talkative.

"I'm waiting," she reminds him.

"Jonah," he grits out, apparently determined not to look at her.

She repeats it, feeling the name on her tongue. It is cute but not enough to make her care for it. It doesn't tell her anything about him either. She lets him know that much, asking her question with just a little more threat behind the words.

"Do I even need to ask the obvious?"

"I'm just supposed to watch you, I don't know about anything else," he defends himself, eyeing her heels as though she's going to make another move to kick him, before giving her a barely veiled glare, "And to not hurt you."

"Right," she has to shake her head at that. If it wasn't obvious before, it is now. This guy has been hired to keep tabs on her and that news alone is stopping her from breaking bones again. She wants to know more, even if it's waking a new irritation.

"And who's paying you to do that, huh? A couple of friends calling in favours? No, wait, I know, it's blackmail isn't it?"

That has a strange expression sliding across his features. Slightly similar to the one the barista was wearing this morning. Deep-rooted confusion. A strange absence of mind. She's tried it enough times herself to know what memory gaps look like.

The guy isn't acting; he genuinely can't answer her question. Compulsion at its best.

"Wait a minute…" she can practically see the wheels turning until the realization hits him, "I don't think I'm getting paid."

She lets out a groan of exasperation and kicks his other leg just for the hell of it. He goes down with a yelp, but not before she snaps his neck. What an idiot.

He did give her the answer to her question though. She bends over the body and retrieves his phone and wallet. She can't have him tell on her anytime soon. For good measure, she slips his only ring - telltale blue stone set in the middle - off the limp finger and pockets it.

The sun is weakening and his body is slumped in the shadow of the wall as she walks away. He'll survive the night and tomorrow … who knows? If he's smart enough he'll notice the sunlight protection is gone, unless the compulsion included being unaware of that too.

He's not her problem anymore. That focus has shifted onto someone else.

There are only a handful of people she knows that can exert that kind of influence over her kind. A witch? Wouldn't be Bonnie, she doesn't have other people doing her dirty work like that. Silas is gone and none of their latest enemies that are still around care, so all of them can be ruled out.

That leaves the Originals and she's also quick to dismiss Rebekah and Elijah as culprits. As far as she knows the other two siblings are still dead. None of them would be remotely interested to check on what she is doing. That leaves only one.

So maybe Stefan has called the Original to ask for help. Maybe the hybrid has obliged so Stefan will be indebted to him, again. Totally possible.

But if he already has someone hot on her heels here, he must have kept watch even before she left. She must have been followed in Mystic Falls without noticing, possibly even since graduation.

That narcissistic, self-obsessed, control-freak alpha male with his superiority complexes. She should have known. Caroline has a sudden overwhelming urge to choke someone.

She should pay him a visit and tell him exactly what she thinks about being followed like she's something he owns. Another person she needs to make it clear to that she is free to do what she wants without permission or supervision, humanity on or off.

She supposes there were feelings for him before, but they're gone and now he's merely a nuisance. A dangerous one maybe, but that's beside the point.

She should probably have the good sense to be cautious but she's past that. How often did he swear he would never hurt her? Then again, if anyone from the Mystic Falls gang has briefed him, he could potentially compel her to regain her humanity.

Since she tested mind controlling someone to die of a non-existent heart attack, she has no doubts he is more than capable of doing that to her. It would take less than a second to get her emotions back, he wouldn't even break a sweat.

She rolls her eyes at the sky, realizing there is an option. Getting her hands on vervain and prudently consuming it for the next couple of days.

Is it even worth that trouble? The stuff has a disgusting aftertaste and its burn really isn't the kind she craves. She twirls the stolen daylight ring on her pinkie as she considers it. To start with, New Orleans has much nicer sights than this city.

Giving that Original a piece of her mind is tempting and maybe she can get a bit of bloodshed in while she's at it. He's done a lot of damage she can repay him for. Ruining a plan of his has great potential for a fun time and that's pretty much what she's looking for.

She'll have to dodge encountering him directly in his city, just in case he decides to use other ways to flip her humanity back on. He's creative, she knows that. But now that she thinks about it, sending a message with just the right amount of flourish has always been her thing.

She's smiling as she encloses the ring in her hand. For tonight, she'll find herself a tasty musician and a party, maybe seek out some witchy voodoo store to get her hands on the herb. Tomorrow she'll make her way down South.


Memphis enthrals her with its rock'n'roll history and the lively vibe. Beale Street captures her in neon and leather for two nights because she wants to see everything and she finds a group of motorcyclists passing through who are happy enough to keep her entertained.

Great guys, she doesn't even need to compel them to get herself a spontaneous tour around the city. She rewards her ride with a kiss that bleeds red.

On her third day she has one of the bartenders she came across take her to a concert in a surprisingly quaint botanic garden. She sucks on his neck in the midst of the crowd, letting the Blues wash over her and revelling in the fact that nobody notices them in the dark.

He also introduces her to the local beers, which aren't even half bad. She might just develop a taste, especially when laced with blood.

She almost discards her plan to continue the trip because she really is having a good time. But she finds herself in the bartender's bed, having forced him to sleep on the couch, and stumbles across the bottled vervain in her handbag again.

She took it yesterday, is already late in keeping up with her dose. Grimacing, she takes a long sip and ignores the tears that instantly spring to her eyes.

Her fangs slide out in response and she breathes deeply against the burn. A couple more days and she will get used to taste. At the moment, it makes her uncomfortable and stings her throat. Getting tortured with it was a bitch too.

Slipping out of bed, she walks into the living room where her current choice human is passed out on the sofa. She flips on the light and takes a beat to look the young man over, noting her faint bite marks on his neck and arms.

It occurs to her that this is exactly the way she must have looked when Damon was using her. It seems lifetimes ago. A death and humanity switch later, she can appreciate the irony.

She cocks her head as he shifts in her presence and opens sleepy eyes. She supposes she should let him recover for a night but the poison has made her hungry. The thrill is back in her fingers, gums tingling.

He barely has time to blink before she's straddling his waist, smiling down at him. His expression is bleary from compulsion and it's actually a little bit endearing. She slips a finger under his chin, titling his head to face her directly.

The deep blue of his eyes reminds her of someone she really doesn't want to be thinking about right now. It's also making the burn of vervain in her mouth all the more bitter.

"Come here," she demands in a low voice, perfectly aware of the way his gaze sharpens when he realizes she's only in her underwear.

He pushes himself up, reaching for her in the same motion. She allows his hands to travel across her back and glide down to her hips before she fists her hands in the black curls and pulls his head aside.

The blood bursts onto her tongue, hot and clean. With the revitalization and the warm body pressed against her, lust begins to stir too. Why not take advantage of his eagerness? She's already planning to move on in the morning.

She only pauses once in her motions, realizing he's the first human she's had in while, considering all the supernatural beings she's been with this last year. Strange, when his kind is so wonderfully pliable. He's very good at being obedient when she wants him to.

Blue-eyes is definitely willing and ready as she takes him in and she groans at the combination of feeding and physical contact. She knows she needs to stop drinking if she wants him to live long enough to give her the pleasure she wants and so she lets him capture her lips. It's decent for all the discomfort of the couch and his lack of strength.

She can't blame him that she's gotten used to a vampire pace. That her normal night entails throwing each other into walls, trees, any surface really. That there are usually invisible scratch marks and torn clothes left as reminders.

He holds out longer than she expects and she buries her teeth in the other side of his throat as he goes tense underneath her. She doesn't even know his name but it's not important now because he moans hers so nicely. She touches herself for the last couple of thrusts and throws her head back as she reaches the point of release.

He's breathing heavily underneath her and as she licks the blood off her lips and swipes a thumb underneath his wound, she can see fear glint in his eyes. Her mind control is wearing off after a day and he can see her for what she is.

She enjoys that for a moment before she leans down and tells him to forget. He can't even form a word of resistance before he's on his back again, eyes half-lidded and blank.

She adjusts her underwear as she gets off him. Supposes that she should feed him some blood since he's looking very pale, neck is still dripping. Letting him die would be an untidier option and she wants to get some sleep before leaving in the morning.

Plus, he makes good pancakes.

She's about to trickle some of her own blood down his throat when she remembers she's on vervain now. That'll be a problem when she wants to wipe his memory.

Groaning, she takes a trip to his bathroom instead and locates the first aid kit. Stabbed herself in her own foot with this tonight but at least she got what she wanted.

He's patched up and still breathing when she finally slips under the covers, stretching across its width. Memphis is a place she may just consider coming back to. She hasn't encountered any more spies at least and aims to keep it that way.

Her plan is also beginning to take form. A couple more days and her mental resistance will be as good as it gets. She checks her phone, notes with satisfaction that the calls and messages have dropped in numbers. Even Stefan is easing off, having only sent one today.

She deletes everything without reading it.

Breathing in the crisp cleanliness of the sheets, she speculates if she'll really be bored of this within the year she demanded. So far, it's probably going to be a no.


Next stop, Baton Rouge. She enjoys the steaks almost as much as its inhabitants. She takes some time to drive around old plantations and marvel at how extravagant the houses are. She could get used to living in one of those if she decides to move somewhere permanently.

It seems the further she heads away from Mystic Falls, the more she is greeted by music on the streets. She immerses herself in shopping here, keeping an eye out for more lurking vampires while she browses the outlets.

The shoes she gets are to die for in any case and she's damn pleased when she attracts numerous stares in the clubs that night.

On her third evening, she stays in a Casino hotel and, just as expected, finds the visitors to be very generous in buying her drinks. One particular gentleman even invites her to join him in his holiday home for the weekend but she politely declines.

Places to go, people to rile up, blood to taste.

She does accept his unknowingly offered wrist when he takes her to his hotel suite and steals one of the bourbons from the mini-bar when she leaves him passed out on a recliner.

The vervain burns less when she tips it down with the golden drink. She's perched on a bench outside and winks at an elderly couple walking past with sceptical looks.

A dolled-up girl with a near empty bottle out in the park at two in the morning. Interesting that they don't even stop to ask if she's okay. Maybe they can feel the predatory vibe and know to keep their distance. Or chivalry is really dead, as they say.

She's not hungry anymore, just in need of some excitement. She drapes herself across the bench to look at the sky, deep sparkling black like her heels. The big dipper is right over her head, seemingly almost in her reach. For some reason, blue eyes are on her mind again.

She picks out the phone from her purse, switching it on for the second time since stealing it. Her tail doesn't even have a security code, what a reckless guy. She scrolls through the contents, finding nothing. No contacts, messages or pictures, it's practically a new phone.

The screen lights up in her face as two unopened messages appear, both sent on her first day in Memphis. An unknown number but based on the content, it's not hard to guess.

07:42. You were supposed to report back.

10:18. One hour before your friend will be missing a heart.

If that doesn't sound like someone she knows all too well. Keeping updated on her is apparently worth someone's heart. Very poetic.

If the guy from Nashville has any sense he will have gotten the hell away before his heart goes missing too. Then again, apparently he is now down a friend as a result of her interference.

She knows Klaus keeps promises.

She's about to head back into the city nightlife when another form catches her attention. A gorgeously dark-skinned girl is heading along the path to her right. She's sixteen at best and moving quickly, easily although she's in heavy boots.

Caroline doesn't care much to move until eyes flick in her direction and she can see them directly reflecting the light of street lamp beside her. An animal's eye to go with the animal motions.

A smile grows on her lips as she places the aura she's getting off the girl. Werewolf. How convenient. She's only mildly curious about how the gene could have been activated at such a young age. More importantly, this one is the first non-human she's come across in a while.

She swings her legs over the bench, standing up in one fluid motion. Alcohol is making her reckless and this really seems like an excellent idea.

"Hey, wait a second."

The girl doesn't bother stopping, continuing to move away from her. If there's one thing she is absolutely not down with, it's being ignored. Caroline Forbes does not get ignored.

She's in front of the she-wolf in a flash and gets the satisfaction of seeing her startle. Already giving away that she has experience with vampires or she would be gaping and taking off right about now.

"Hi," she repeats, putting on her best smile, "I really love your jacket."

The smaller girl's features are stoic, eyes narrowed back at her. She tugs on the fake leather coat in response, nonchalance hiding her wariness.

"Thanks," she replies, already trying to brush past her. Caroline takes another step back, right in her path until the brunette has to stop and snap, "What?"

"You've also got a pretty neck," she surmises, keeping eye contact intensely enough that she knows she's creeping her out, "I don't think I've tasted wolf before."

She's played her cards; there is no delusion possible here. Her statement has dark eyes widening before involuntarily glancing up at the sky. Caroline already knows that the moon is far from being full.

Both of them are counting two and two together and figuring that one of them has no chance tonight. She is just about to offer the girl a head start when the wolf bolts, sprinting back towards the city.

She enjoys this situation; the unusual circumstance that her prey knows exactly what she's capable of and can do nothing about it. The blonde chuckles and takes a moment to down the rest of the bottle and dump it before flashing after her.

The girl is barely ten yards away from the road when she snatches her. She hears the crack of a dislocating shoulder as she wrenches her backwards. Her hand closes over the girl's mouth just as she tries to open it to scream, using her other hand to hold the jaw closed. She doesn't fancy a wolf bite to end her journey now.

Thankfully the girl isn't anywhere near full strength and so the squirming and kicking does her little good as Caroline digs her fangs into her neck.

It's definitely different. A far cry from the filling sweetness of human blood, a much more feral taste than vampire blood. Not to even mention hybrid blood, which seems to have gotten the best elements of everything.

No, damn it, she is not thinking about that right now.

She only has a couple of gulps before the aroma becomes too overwhelming and she tosses the girl aside. Smudges of alcohol are also running in those veins and interfering with the taste, somehow more acidic. It's definitely not her thing.

Equally furious and frightened brown eyes stare up at her as the wolf scrambles to her feet. Harsh breaths fill the air and she presses a hand to the wound. Her other arm is limp, she's shaking with suppressed pain.

The girl's expression betrays undiluted hatred and that almost compensates for the fact that her blood has chased away the lovely taste of bourbon. Caroline simply wipes her mouth and flicks her hair over one shoulder.

"Well. I really expected that to be better. Seriously, even rabbit beats that. And what do I do with you now? I guess killing you might still make up for it."

Her dissident has the good sense to not run again. No weapon, no way to call for help, nobody walking this way at this hour, she's just biding her time. Caroline keeps her in that suspense for several heartbeats, contemplating before snapping to attention.

She has an idea, one that could potentially guarantee her anonymity for much longer.

"Do you have a car?" she asks.

It's out of the blue and the wolf is definitely taken aback.

"What…I…" she is confused now, taking another step back with her eyes still darting around in search for aid, "Can't you just let me go? You got what you wanted."

"I don't think you heard my question," she repeats, sugar-sweet smile turned on the younger girl and advances again.

The brunette matches her with backwards steps but her expression is clearly one of being driven into a corner. Of course, it's dangerous to trust a vampire but there aren't many options. She will either snap and do something reckless or give in to save her skin.

Judging from the way the wound is still leaking blood, it will be the latter. Apparently her healing isn't up to par without the moonlight either.

The girl finally stumbles to a halt when she notices the tree cutting off the escape behind her. She holds up her free hand.

"Yeah, okay, I have a car. It's parked downtown. Just … stop."

Instantly, the smile grows wider on Caroline's face. She really makes a great actress; maybe she should put that to professional use somewhere on her trip. She places her hands on her hips as the wolf looks at her in a mixture of anger and defeat.

"Great. A car for a life, I think that sounds fair. Where exactly?"

It takes another threatening show of fangs until the girl grits out the location. She can tell that the young girl is itching to dig teeth into her fingers as she holds them out for the car keys. Grudgingly, she tosses them with the good arm, the other one still hanging heavy.

"Make sure you keep this our little secret. I don't want to come looking for you," Caroline grins as she steps aside to let her through.

The girl doesn't need to be told twice. She walks a wide arc around her, keeping a careful eye on her movements as though she doesn't trust her to keep her word. Definitely fighting instincts to pounce on her too.

Caroline can almost pretend she's offended but she's too amused. That kid would be stupid to think she's being genuine but the feebleness of this usually so dangerous creature is really satisfying.

She doesn't move from her spot and holds the eye contact. Only when there's already an entire road between them, does the girl turn away and break into a hobbling run.

She doesn't get far. Caroline is on her heels before she can hit a main road. The wolf senses are alert enough to notice and she's already half-turning in realization when the blonde appears in front of her, practically tasting the adrenalin.

She pulls the younger girl's head around at an angle, listening to the sound of a cracking spine. The body crumples at her feet. She can't compel a werewolf and won't allow witnesses, that simple.

Maybe it's a paranoid move but she's always been a fan of control and right now, she doesn't need news getting around of her presence here. The kid was far too easy to play with anyway.

"Nothing personal," she tells the corpse as she pushes her into a nearby dumpster, "Thanks for the car though."

The key tells her it's a Ford. Not half bad, she can work with that. Pulling out her own phone, she searches for the place and heads in the direction she came from earlier.

If she'd let her run, the girl would have gotten back-up or spread the news and she doesn't need to stick around for that. One little wolf is fine; a bunch of them are an issue, especially if they decide to bring stakes.

She ignores the appreciative looks at her outfit this time round as she walks into town. She's not interested in partying anymore. She's here to collect her prize.

As it turns out, it's a dark blue Fiesta with only one or two dents on the back. Obviously someone failed to park properly. Considering the girl looked around her mid-teens, it makes sense that her first car is a small calibre.

Even so, it's a different model from hers and, most importantly, not a giveaway number plate. That rules out finding her through her car. Even if this one is reported missing at some point, she can deal with human police officers in no time.

Checking the road one more time for followers of any sort, she gets in.

She's satisfied as she heads back to the hotel. Packing and checking out takes her twenty minutes before she's on the road, leaving her own car behind. Digging into the salted peanuts that the hotel staff was so kind to throw in, she steers onto the highway.

It's when she passes the sign that says she has eighty miles to go that a smile spreads across her face. She's ready to cause some real trouble.