Leo pulled up to the Mystic Grill right at eight o'clock, the time Elena had given him. He shut off the engine and stepped out of the car into the cool evening air. The parking lot was about half full. He took a moment to straighten the jacket of his coat, then closed the car door and headed across the road.
He crossed the road,pushed open the heavy wooden door of the Grill and stepped inside.The scene that hit him was exactly what he expected on a Friday night. The place was crowded, full of life and noise. Groups of people clustered around tables, talking and laughing over drinks. The low thump of music pulsed from the speakers, a steady background beat. Over on the small stage area, a few people were dancing, moving loosely to the rhythm. The air smelled like fried food, beer, and perfume.
His eyes scanned the room, moving past the bar, the booths, the pool tables. It didn't take long to spot Elena. She was sitting at a table for four, looking toward the door as if waiting. He began to make his way toward her, weaving slightly between the other patrons.
But he stopped after only a few steps. A sudden, distinct feeling prickled at the back of his neck—the clear, unmistakable sense that someone was watching him. Not just a glance, but an intentional, focused stare. His attention shifted, drawn to the left side of the room, toward the long bartender's counter.
There, sitting on a vinyl stool beside it, was a woman. She had long blonde hair and was watching him directly. Her eyes were a striking shade of green-hazel. For a second, Leo's own eyes widened in pure surprise. He knew her ,from the memories of the show in his previous life. This was Lexi. A vampire over 350 years old, and Stefan Salvatore's oldest friend.
He held her gaze for a beat too long, his surprise probably plain on his face. Across the room, Lexi noted his reaction. She didn't understand the real reason for it. She simply assumed, with a vampire's accustomed vanity, that he was struck by her beauty. After all, as far as she knew, this was their very first meeting. A man staring at an attractive woman was nothing unusual.
Leo forced himself to stay calm. He kept his eyes on her for a few more seconds, his expression settling back into neutrality. Then, his gaze slid to the person sitting on the stool next to her.
It was Stefan Salvatore. His vampire classmate. Stefan was looking right back at him. But his demeanor was different tonight. There was none of the careful caution Stefan usually showed around him. Instead, Stefan looked back with a new, quiet confidence. He didn't look away or tense up. He just met Leo's look steadily, almost like he was expecting this moment.
Leo studied them both—the ancient vampire and the suddenly assured one. The message was clear. Stefan wasn't alone anymore. He had his backup, his oldest ally, sitting right beside him.
Leo held the stare for a long, silent moment.Then, without a nod, a smile, or any change in his own expression, he broke the stare. He turned away completely and continued walking through the crowd, his destination now clear. He headed straight for the table where Elena sat, waiting alone.
Lexi watched Leo walk away through the crowd before she turned on her stool to face Stefan. She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes thoughtful. "So," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear over the music. "That's the 'devil' you mentioned." A faint, appreciative smile touched her lips. "He's quite handsome. Not really what I picture when I think of a devil from hell." She said it genuinely. In all her centuries, she had seen many attractive men, but there was something strikingly perfect about Leo's features that even she had to acknowledge.
Stefan didn't feel any petty jealousy at her words. Instead, he felt a cold, protective concern. He knew that handsome face was just a mask, and the reality beneath it was something he wished he could forget. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a serious, urgent whisper.
"Lexi," he said, his green eyes holding hers. "You have only seen that handsome face. You haven't seen the nightmare face that lies underneath it. The one I have seen." He remembered the swirling red and black eyes, the expression of pure, ancient malice. "If you see that face, even for a second, you will want to forget you ever laid eyes on him. You'll wish you had never met him." He held her gaze, making sure she felt the weight of his words. "As your friend, that is the most honest warning I can give you."
Lexi looked into his eyes, seeing no trace of exaggeration, only stark memory and fear. She didn't know what to say to that. The certainty in his voice was unsettling. After a moment, she simply nodded, accepting his warning. They fell back into discussion, their voices a quiet murmur against the backdrop of the Grill's noise.
What they didn't notice, couldn't notice, was that Leo had heard every single word.
From the moment he had spotted Lexi and Stefan together at the bar, a quiet alertness had switched on inside him. He had subtly activated his superhuman senses, heightening his hearing and awareness. It was a precaution. Who knew when these two vampires might decide to make a move? He had to be careful, especially in a crowded place. So, as he walked toward Elena's table, their conversation flowed into his ears as clearly as if he were standing right beside them.
At first, a small, involuntary smile touched his lips. He heard Lexi call him handsome. Anyone, human or angel, would feel a flicker of pleasure at being praised for their appearance by a beautiful woman.It doesn't matter whether she is a Vampire or something else.
But he kept listening. Then he heard Lexi say, 'Not really what I picture when I think of a devil from hell.'
The smile vanished. A dark expression flickered across his features before he could school it into neutrality. So. Stefan had told her. He'd used that specific word: devil. He'd shared his identity, or at least, his impression of it. As Leo listened to the rest of their exchange, he quickly pieced it together. Stefan had seen his transformed face—his "nightmare face" which he knew.But Stefan still didn't know the full, terrifying truth. He didn't know he was in the presence of Lucifer Morningstar himself. The actual Devil. Not just some devilish creature, but the King of Hell. Leo pushed these heavy, dangerous thoughts down, locking them away as he finally reached Elena's table.
Elena looked up as he approached. A small, expectant smile was on her face, but her eyes held a trace of concern, as if she'd noticed his momentary distraction. Leo pulled out the heavy wooden chair across from her and sat down. He consciously pushed all the tension from his shoulders, forcing his features to soften into the gentle, familiar smile she knew.
"Sorry," he said, his voice purposely light and casual. "Got held up for a second.This place is really busy tonight."
He glanced around, as if just noticing the crowd, then turned his attention fully back to her, his gaze scanning the empty chairs at their table."Anyway, where's Bonnie? I didn't see her when I came in. Did she not come today?"
Elena brushed a strand of her dark hair back behind her ear as she answered. "Bonnie canceled at the last minute," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "She called and said she got busy with some work. Something came up."
Leo's mind immediately snapped to the locket. He didn't believe for a second that ordinary 'work' was the reason Bonnie would skip a night out. His first guess was that something was happening with the locket—perhaps Emily Bennett's spirit was beginning to awaken or exert its influence. But then, he reasoned with himself. Even if that was the case, Emily was Bonnie's ancestor.And also Emily never intended to harm her own descendant. If anything, she needed Bonnie. So, logically, Bonnie was probably safe. With that thought, he pushed his concern aside for the moment. There was no point in worrying.
"Oh," he said simply, accepting the explanation at face value. He then shifted the topic,wanting to steer it toward something more normal."Elena, how is your aunt's health? You mentioned this afternoon she had a high fever." His tone was genuinely inquiring, focusing on her and her family, pulling them both back into everyday concerns.
Across the room, at the bar, Lexi and Stefan were also talking. Their attention kept drifting back to the table where Leo and Elena sat. Lexi studied Elena's profile, her head tilted.
Lexi couldn't help but lean closer to Stefan, her voice a low murmur under the music. "I still can't get over it," she said, her gaze fixed on Elena's profile—the line of her nose, the curve of her cheek. "It still shocks me. She's the mirror image of Katherine."
Lexi paused, remembering. "That photograph you had, the one from 1800. It's like someone took Katherine out of that old picture and put her here,in this time, in this room."
She tilted her head, a detective examining the only clue. There had to be a crack in the mirror, a flaw in the copy. And she found it.
"The eyes," Lexi stated, the realization firm. "That's how you know. In the photo, Katherine's eyes were like stones. Hard. Calculating. This girl's eyes… they're not like that. They're softer. When she looks at someone, there's a warmth there. Katherine never had that."
Stefan nodded silently beside her, his own gaze fixed on Elena with a complicated mix of feelings.
Lexi turned fully toward him then, her curiosity piqued by more than just resemblance. "Stefan," she began, her voice dropping to a more intimate level, "why haven't you made a move? Is it just because of him?" She didn't say Leo's name, but a slight nod in the direction of Elena's table was enough.
Stefan picked up his glass, finished the last of his drink, and set it down on the bartender's table with a soft clink. He took a moment before answering, his expression thoughtful and a little resigned.
"Not really, Lexi," he said. "Though, yes, his presence is a factor. But that's not the entire reason." He paused, choosing his words with care,a trace of old regret in his tone."Maybe… she just didn't like me from the first time we met." He gave a faint, humorless smile. "And you know the famous saying, 'First impressions are the last impressions.' Mine, it seems, wasn't a good one." There was a quiet acceptance in his voice, an acknowledgment that some doors close before you even have a chance to knock.
....
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