like you mean it

The night had already kicked off upstairs, with music blaring through the speakers and drunk college kids gearing up to make questionable decisions—not that Hector had any room to judge them. He opted to stay downstairs, though, where the atmosphere was very different: chilled and calm. He peeked down into his almost-empty glass of whiskey, recalling how things had been vastly different in the bar a few months ago. A night of chaos had drawn Magnus downstairs to help his best friend—an evening that ended with Linc almost dying and Hector’s neck being snapped. Memories from that night were jagged, but he could remember attacking Magnus and plunging his hand deep into Linc’s chest. Despite those arguably unforgivable acts, they were all friends again.

Still, it was hard not to wonder how things might have gone if Hector had actually succeeded in killing Linc. It wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on, so he pushed the thought aside as he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the bar, topping up his glass almost to the brim.

There was no denying the trickling thoughts about whether he should leave Mystic Falls or not. The town had brought nothing but danger to him and those he cared about nonstop for the past few months. He had nearly gone insane, Pierre had temporarily lost his wife, and Linc had attacked Cassie. Aruba had provided them all with a break from the chaos, but it still didn’t stop Hector from thinking: What’s next?

Aruba hadn’t just been a break for him, though. His conversation with Penny there had left him feeling uncertain about life in a way he couldn’t quite describe. She’d quickly pointed out that he had given up on love after a single heartbreak. There were people out there who’d endured countless heartbreaks and were still searching for the right one. Had he given up too soon? Maybe it was time to pull back the barbed wire around his heart and let someone in—but the thought of that terrified him.

As he was finishing off his third glass, Kit came into the bar, telling Hector that a woman upstairs was looking for him and holding a bouquet of flowers. They both agreed the flowers obviously weren’t for him. Hector headed upstairs and was greeted by Connie, who looked a bit bewildered next to the bar. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he approached her. She looked like she’d never stepped into a nightclub before. “Wanna come through to my office? It’s quieter.” He nodded toward the door.

Leading the way, he walked toward his office and held the door open for Connie. “I’ve been meaning to call you, actually. You left something of yours at my apartment.” He walked over to his desk, pulling open the top drawer and retrieving a piece of paper. Turning back to her with a grin, he handed it to her. “Constance. Cute name,” he remarked, noting that the surname had faded over time. He lowered himself onto the couch, secretly enjoying the stress Connie was probably feeling at that moment—terrified that some human had found her birth certificate. “Don’t panic. I’m not as young as I look, either. I tell everyone I’m thirty, but times that by about twenty-five… actually, it was my seven hundred and sixty-sixth birthday recently.” He smirked. Magnus made sure they celebrated it in style, as always.


CONNIE BECK