Damon Salvatore counted three drained bodies in one week, and every one of them was going to get him killed. He stood over the newest in an alley behind the town bar. Torn throat. No care taken. A rogue vampire, newly turned, feeding in the open. Damon wanted to be the man this town called when a monster showed up. Instead the town was starting to think every vampire was the monster. That included him. He wiped his mouth, though he hadn't touched the body, out of old habit. He pulled a silver compass from his jacket. Its face was dark, etched with a snarling bat. The needle ignored north. It swung and locked toward the square. Damon smiled. "Found you." The square was full of people. That was the problem. Someone had called a meeting, and the crowd pressed close around a girl standing on the fountain steps. Long blonde hair, denim jacket, a phone raised over her head. "Three deaths," Caroline Forbes shouted. "Three! And the sheriff does nothing. So we do something." The crowd growled with her. Damon knew her by reputation. The mayor's list-keeper. The girl who noticed things. She had photos of the wounds on her phone, and she was passing them around. Torches were the next step. He could feel it. The compass needle trembled and pointed straight into the crowd. Damon followed it. A young man stood at the edge, pale, sweating, staring at Caroline like she was dinner. Newly turned. Hungry. About to feed in front of two hundred witnesses. Damon moved. He grabbed the rogue's arm before the boy could lunge. "Not here," he said, and dragged him into the dark between two buildings. The boy fought hard. He slammed Damon into brick and snapped at his neck. Damon drove him down, pinned his shoulders, and looked into his wild eyes. "You're getting us all burned," Damon said. The boy hissed. He had no control left, no mind behind the hunger. There was nothing to teach. Damon broke his neck with one twist, then finished it. Quiet. Done. He stood, breathing hard, and dropped the body behind a dumpster where he'd move it later. When he turned, Caroline stood at the mouth of the alley. Her phone was up, its light on his face. "I saw you grab him," she said. Her voice shook, but she didn't run. "I saw what you did." Damon looked at her steadily. "I just stopped your killer." "You're one of them." She lowered the phone. On the screen was a photo of him, teeth and all, standing over the body. Her thumb hovered over the send button. "The whole town gets this if I press it." Damon had killed the rogue and saved the town. He had also given the one person building a mob everything she needed to hunt him. The square still buzzed behind her, waiting for a name to burn.