Whatever It Takes {Two | Alaric Saltzman}

Never Let Me Go

Abigail scoffed. "Bonnie, the stone's gone."

Damon looked up from his phone. "Who wants to go to Myrtle Beach?"

"I'm busy," Bonnie said.

"Oh, me too!" Abigail moved to stand next to her. "Want to be busy doing something together?"

"Definitely."

Damon picked up something of a smile as he looked to Alaric. "Ric?"

He rolled his eyes. "Pass."

"Well, that's too bad, because Lily made a bunch of phone calls that bounced off a cell tower there, and something tells me she's not making plans for her spring break."

"Why would Lily send one of her Heretics to Myrtle Beach?" Bonnie asked.

"Tell you what: you ask him yourself after he's safe in my car's trunk." He rubbed his hands together. "So, anyone up for an old-fashioned hostage-swap?"

Summer might have been over, but Myrtle Beach was still overflowing with tourists. They were expecting it, and planned on using it to their advantage, but that was about as far as they'd gotten apart from sorting their weapons. And it didn't really help that their hotel room was as small as it was cheap.

"You know," Damon leaned toward Abigail, "the last time I stayed in a hotel with a Gilbert-"

Abigail pushed him away. "Damon, if you so much as-"

He threw his hands up. "I'm just messing around!"

Alaric turned to face them as he loaded a vervain dart gun. "Okay, so what's the plan?"

"You two with your plans..."

Bonnie looked up from the floorplans rolled out on the desk. "Am I missing something?"

At the same time, Abigail and Alaric said, "Nope."

"Fair trade." Damon shrugged. "One Heretic in good condition for the coffin housing Elena."

Alaric side-eyed him. "I meant the plan where we try to capture a powerful Heretic who'd prefer we were dead."

"Easy!" Damon gestured from one of them to the next. "Newbie poses as room service, B-Town stuns him with magic, you shoot him with vervain, I snap his neck."

Bonnie nodded. "But after we get him to siphon away my visions."

Abigail took half a step toward her. "Wait, what?"

"Well, the visions are magic. He can siphon magic. It's worth a shot, right?"

She looked over her shoulder at Alaric. "Right."

"Right," he repeated.

Damon's voice did not break their eye contact, "Unless you two have any other suggestions of how we can rid Bonnie of this mysterious pain she's in."

They shook their heads before taking the steps that led the group to room 227. Abigail stole a room service cart from the hallway, selling her role for at least as long as it would take someone to look through a peephole. Alaric, Bonnie, and Damon were to her right, standing just far enough behind her to stay hidden. So, when she raised her hand to knock on the door, she didn't even look back at them for a second.

"Room service!"

Oscar's eyes were slightly swollen, his dark hair was disheveled, and the smell coming from the room left little to the imagination of what had been interrupted. "Hey, you have the wrong... Damon Salvatore!"

"You know me?" Damon asked.

"Of course, I know you! It's good to see you're well, old friend." Oscar opened his arms for a hug. "Come here, man!"