Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{023}

The Birthday
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"She was like his own personal drug. He had gotten a taste and he craved more."
—Original
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-

A month in, America took notice that every witch's lead seemed to pave the way to an abrupt dead-end and werewolves seemed scarcer than before, leaving behind traces and proof of their presence but never any actual wolves. She didn't mention any of it to Klaus, however, not when Stefan so helpfully acknowledged that the witches were leading them further and further away from Mystic Falls. Such a coincidental result was good in the long run considering the pair was certain the hybrid would be livid to find the brunette still alive. 

It was guaranteed he would delve into paranoia and go back to finish the job. So, they kept quiet, America especially under the silent glares of Stefan when she listened to the witches continuously lead Klaus astray. She managed a month of biting her tongue before she had scoffed after a short meeting with a witch, Eunice, muttering that the woman hadn't done the location spell properly and she had missed Stefan's warning glare as it had dissipated by the time Klaus had glanced back at her, eyebrow arched. 

"Then why not save us the time and do the spell yourself?" America had paused then, blinking mutely in surprise and making an effort not to look at the younger Salvatore with an apologetic look. She swayed where she stood, pressing her lips into a thin line as she muttered her assent, putting up a significantly less amount of fight as things between her and Klaus had mellowed out drastically in the months passed. They were on friendly enough terms when he wasn't feeling particularly vindictive.

It served well for when he and Stefan were most at odds, refusing to communicate effectively and America never cared enough to smooth things out between them, happy for the break it gave her when they went out of their way to avoid the other. Properly done with a reversal tracking spell of a werewolf's belongings, the results lead them to where they were now. Hohenwald, Tennessee looking for the only man in the country that seemed to have missed the memo sent by the witches.

Hide. On the first day, the trio settled in the southern family home of some unfortunate souls and America opted to explore while Klaus and Stefan indulged, unconcerned and unaffected after two months to adjust. She had found nothing of interest on the first floor but scratching noises on a door at the end of the hallway on the second drew her attention. Opening it revealed a delightful little surprise in a black, white and brown package. The Bernese mountain dog yapped excitedly, rising from the mat it had been laying on to bound over to her. 

America grinned down at the puppy, lifting it up when it began to whine, using her leg to push itself into a half-stand. In her arms, it braced its paws on her shoulder to lick excitedly at her face, the woman angling away from the puppy's insistent tongue with a laugh. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? Big meanie probably heard you and didn't care." She exaggerated a pout down at the puppy, lips twitching up when she barked almost in agreement. "Yeah, so you know what that means?"