[Location: Whitmore College – Maxfield's Lab] [Time: 4:30 PM]
I stared into the eyepiece of the electron microscope. My eyes were burning.
On the slide was Tyler Lockwood's blood.
I adjusted the focus. I saw cells. I saw movement.
And I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was looking at.
I pulled back, rubbing my temples. "Damn it."
I slammed my notebook shut. In my head, this had been easy. Step 1: Get blood. Step 2: Isolate gene. Step 3: Profit.
But I was forgetting who I was. In my past life, I was Kenji Sato. I managed logistics. I knew how to organize a spreadsheet, manipulate a quarterly report, and handle difficult employees. I didn't know how to sequence a genome. I got a B+ in high school biology because I memorized the textbook, not because I understood the science.
I was looking at the most valuable genetic material on the planet—proof of a werewolf—and to me, it just looked like purple blobs.
"I'm an idiot," I whispered. "I'm trying to build an iPhone with a hammer."
I couldn't do the science. I needed a scientist.
I looked at the heavy door to the inner lab.
Dr. Wes Maxfield.
He was the genius. He was the expert in "aberrant biology." In the show, he eventually creates the Ripper Virus. He has the skills; he just lacks the raw materials.
I had the raw materials.
I stood up. I needed to pivot. I wasn't the chef; I was the guy supplying the ingredients.
I grabbed the slide. I grabbed the vial of Vicki's Blood (Vampire) I had brought with me.
I swiped my keycard and walked into the inner lab.
Maxfield was there, dissecting a tissue sample from the Augustine vampire. He didn't look up.
"You're not authorized for this section, Mr. Cross," Maxfield said coldly. "Get out."
"I hit a wall," I said, leaning against the doorframe. "I found the anomaly in the local blood samples. But I can't isolate the trigger."
Maxfield stopped cutting. He looked at me over his glasses. "Because you're a high school student, Adrian. You're bright, but you're a child playing with a chemistry set."
"Maybe," I admitted. "But I have access to things you don't."
I walked over to his desk and placed the two vials down.
Vial A: Tyler's Blood (Werewolf Gene).
Vial B: Vicki's Blood (Newborn Vampire).
"What is this?" Maxfield asked.
"Vial A is from a local family," I said. "High aggression. High bone density. Legend says they change shape under a full moon."
Maxfield scoffed. "Lycanthropy? Please. That's a myth."
"Is it?" I pointed to Vial B. "And Vial B is from a girl who died two nights ago, came back to life, drank blood, and burned in the sun. I scraped this off the pavement."
Maxfield picked up Vial B. He held it to the light. He saw the coagulation pattern. It didn't look human.
"You're telling me you have samples of a Vampire and a Werewolf?" Maxfield asked, his skepticism warring with his curiosity.
"I'm telling you that Mystic Falls is a goldmine," I said. "And I'm the only one with a shovel."
I sat on the edge of his desk. It was a power move.
"Here is the deal, Dr. Maxfield. I can't analyze this. I don't have the degree. But you do."
"And why should I work with you?" Maxfield asked. "I could just take these samples and have you arrested for... theft? Grave robbing?"
"Because these are just the beginning," I said. "I know where the White Oak is. I know where the Originals are coming from. I am your supply chain."
I tapped the table.
"I want you to analyze Vial A. Find the trigger that activates the cells. Is it hormonal? Is it chemical?"
"And what do you get out of it?" Maxfield asked.
"I want the data," I said. "And when you figure out how to synthesize the properties... I want the first dose."
Maxfield looked at the vials. The scientist in him was drooling. The Augustine Society had been hunting for werewolf samples for decades to study the toxicity to vampires.
"You're a strange kid, Adrian," Maxfield murmured.
"I'm an ambitious kid," I corrected. "Do we have a deal?"
Maxfield picked up the slide with Tyler's blood. He walked over to his high-end electron microscope—the one that cost more than my house.
He looked through the lens.
Silence stretched for a long minute.
Maxfield stiffened.
"My god," he whispered. "The cell walls... they're shifting. It's polymorphous."
He looked up at me, his eyes wide with the madness of discovery.
"Where did you get this?"
"Does it matter?" I asked.
Maxfield grabbed a notepad and started scribbling furiously. "I need to run a centrifuge cycle. I need to test the reaction to silver nitrate. I need..."
"You do the science, Doc," I said, backing toward the door. "I'll keep the samples coming."
I walked out of the lab.
I exhaled.
Crisis Averted.
I didn't have to be a genius. I just had to own the genius.
[Location: The Mystic Grill] [Time: 7:00 PM]
I ordered a burger. I felt lighter. Delegating the science to Maxfield was the right call. It freed me up to focus on the Politics.
Mason Lockwood walked in.
He was the "Cool Uncle." Handsome, rugged, radiating that werewolf heat. He sat at the bar, ordering a tequila.
He was looking around. Scanning.
He was looking for the Moonstone.
I watched him from my booth.
In the show, Mason is manipulated by Katherine. He's looking for the stone to give to her.
I had the stone.
Which meant I had the leverage.
But I couldn't just walk up to him and say, "Hey, I have the magic rock." He'd snap my neck.
I needed to make him come to me.
I pulled out a napkin. I took a pen.
I drew a symbol on the napkin. A simple circle with a crescent moon inside it. The symbol I had seen on the Moonstone.
I flagged down Matt.
"Hey Matt," I said. "Can you give that napkin to the guy at the bar? The guy in the flannel?"
"Mason?" Matt asked. "Sure."
Matt walked over and slid the napkin to Mason.
I watched.
Mason looked at the napkin. He froze.
He looked up, scanning the room.
I made sure I was looking at my phone, looking bored.
Mason stood up. He grabbed the napkin and walked over to my booth.
"Mind if I sit?" Mason asked. His voice was friendly, but his eyes were predatory.
"Free country," I shrugged.
Mason sat down. He slid the napkin back to me.
"Interesting doodle," Mason said. "Where did you see that symbol?"
"In a book," I lied. "My dad loves local history. He has a book about the Lockwood family legends."
"Legends?"
"Yeah. The curse of the moon. The stone that binds it." I looked up at him. "Cool story. Probably just a fairy tale."
Mason leaned in. "Does your dad have this book?"
"No," I said. "He borrowed it. From the library archives. But... I think I saw a rock with that symbol on it recently."
Mason's pulse spiked. I could hear his breathing change.
"Where?" Mason asked.
"I don't know," I said, playing coy. "I see a lot of rocks. Maybe it was at the Founders' Party? Maybe it was in a box of junk at the Gilbert house?"
I paused.
"Why? Is it valuable?"
Mason forced a smile. "Sentimental value. My mother lost a paperweight like that years ago."
"A paperweight," I chuckled. "Right."
I leaned forward.
"You know, Mason... if I find it... I could call you."
"I'd appreciate that," Mason said. "I'd appreciate it a lot. I might even pay a reward."
"I don't need money," I said.
"What do you need?"
"I need a summer internship," I said, channeling the Salaryman. "I hear you have connections in Florida. Architecture? Surfing?"
Mason laughed. He bought the act. He thought I was just a hustling kid.
"Find the stone, kid," Mason said. "And we'll talk about your future."
He stood up and walked away.
I watched him go.
Hook Set.
Now Mason wouldn't leave town. He would stay, hunting for the stone. And while he stayed... I could get Vial C. Active Werewolf Venom.
[Location: The Cross Residence – Garage] [Time: 10:30 PM]
I was preparing the Kill Kit.
To become a vampire, I had to die with vampire blood in my system.
I had Pearl's Blood (which I would get tomorrow, via the trade).
But the method of death mattered.
It couldn't be a suicide. Insurance wouldn't pay out (not that I cared about money, but my parents would). And it couldn't look like a murder, or the Council would investigate.
It had to be an accident.
I looked at the stairs leading down to the basement.
A fall? Too risky. Could result in brain damage or paralysis without death.
Carbon monoxide? Too slow. Might damage the cells.
Electrocution? Painful, but effective.
No.
I needed it to be Damon.
If Damon killed me, it fit the narrative.
I provoke Damon.
Damon snaps my neck in a fit of rage.
I wake up.
I tell Stefan that Damon attacked me, cementing my place as the "Victim" and driving a wedge between the brothers (which I could exploit).
And... if Damon snaps my neck, it's instant. Painless.
But I had to make sure I had the blood in my system before I provoked him.
I made the plan.
Tomorrow Night.
I would go to the Boarding House. I would drink Pearl's blood beforehand. I would pick a fight with Damon about Katherine.
And I would let him kill me.
"One more day of being human," I whispered.
I looked at my hands. They were shaking.
Not from fear. From anticipation.
I was about to trade my humanity for power.
And I was ready to close the deal.
[End of Chapter 21]