Flashback: Boston, Massachusetts. 1898.

The ballroom twinkled ethereally, the soft Boston spring air contributing by spreading the scent of flowers from the garden through the grand house. Alice waved to Sybil, one of the girls with who's family she'd made her recent home with. The other girl waved back before taking a delicate sip of punch and arching her neck at just the right angle to show off her new earrings, and her soft skin, to the gentlemen she was trying to charm. Alice shook her head. Sybil was beautiful, but a terrible flirt, and entirely too forward, even in 1898. Sybil's younger sister, Lavender, was also a terrible flirt, but she had a sense of decorum her sister usually misplaced. The girls' mother, Octavia, was constantly at her wits ends with the two of them. She'd recently revealed to Alice how much she enjoyed Alice's more tame, southern wiles, and how grateful she was to Alice for her coquettishness against her daughters' directness. Little did she know that thirty years prior Alice had been the forward one, a seductress in her own rights.

Such a thought had made Alice grimace, reminded her just how terrible of a thing she was doing. Like Katherine before her, she using her pretty face and charming smile and compulsion to force her way into a family she didn't belong to.

Alice smoothed the pale blue fabric of her skirts. The skirt shape was much slimmer than it used to be, but the corset was just as tight and Alice was glad she was now much harder to kill.

The room floated around her, all dancing couples, whispering women and promiscuous young men. Alice knew she was garnering attention, she always did as the new girl in society. No one knew her name, let alone had seen her face and Alice held herself proudly. Over 30 years as a vampire had proven to her that time and time again she has beautiful, and that a sob story always made people worship you. As Alice Montgomery, all she needed was a pretty young man with a large fortune and the taste for an illicit affair. Was it messy? Sometimes, but entirely worth it. She was a southern belle, it was what she'd been bred for.

A chill tingled up the back of Alice's neck from the neck of her gown to the curls falling artistically from her bun. Instead of whipping around like she wanted too, Alice turned her head to the side and tried to catch whoever was watching her. Instead the tingling dissipated but the feeling of eyes on her back did not. So, Alice did what she did best— she gave them a show.

She sipped the lemonade and nibbled at the little cakes. She tittered with the chaperones and whispered with the girls. She smiled, and flirted, and danced with the most eligible of all the young men in the room and still the eyes followed her. And still she couldn't find who they belonged to.

She was worried, of course, that they might belong to Katherine, or worse, one of her brothers. It wasn't until she was standing with Lavender that she found what, or who, it was.

"Honestly, Alice, how do you seem to wrap all the young men around your finger with hardly anything but a blink of your eyes?" commented Lavender. Alice laughed.

"Mystery is a powerful thing, Lavie, a powerful thing. And Alistair Jefferson really isn't as suave as he thinks he is."

It was Lavender's turn to giggle. "Oh, I wasn't speaking of Alistair. I was referring to Mr. Mikaelson."

"I beg your pardon? Who is this Mr Mikaelson?" questioned Alice.

"The young Brit whose been staying with us," answered Lavender, "the delicious one whose father is actually an earl. Or perhaps it was a count. Who can tell?"

"Their wives, I suppose," remarked Alice. Lavender giggled wildly. She surveyed the room but couldn't find anyone who she didn't recognize. "Lavie, could you be a dear and point him out for me?"

"Oh!" exclaimed the other girl, "I had forgotten the two of you weren't acquainted. He has a terrible tendency to take dinner in his room or not at all. And you hardly ever make it to luncheon, you lazy bones." Lavender's tawny eyes brightened as she gazed across the room. "That one there, with the dark hair and those lovely eyes. And those lips. Oh, doesn't he just make you want to swoon?" she sighed. Alice rolled her eyes.

"Careful, Lavie, or we'll have to loosen your corset, and you'll lose you recently acquired assets." Lavender gave a little shriek of laughter at her friend's scandalous words.

Alice followed the other girl's gestures across the ballroom. Her eyes fell upon a man who was exactly what her friend described— swoon-worthy. She hardly had time to admire him, however, before she was drawn to the eyes that she knew had been studying her for the better part of the evening. Alice tipped her chin, never breaking eye contact. It was a challenge and he knew it. He raised his glass in a silent toast. A predatory grin curled over his face.

Something struck Alice inside her chest hard. It was a warning, a sign that she was crossing a line or tempting fate. Something telling her to be cautious in a way she'd never been cautious before.

"Honestly, it's completely unfair. You and Sybie have all the luck," Lavender's whining broke Alice's staring competition and dispelled all sense of caution from her mind.

"Oh hush, Lavie," she looped her arm through the other girls, "we're older than you, you have plenty of time."

"But you two will have taken all the good ones," continued Lavender.

"Hush," ordered Alice, "I'll find you a partner for the Highland. You can thank me then."

It took a matter of moments for Lavender to once again become swept up into the ball that her family was hosting. Not long after that did Alice find them both partners. She'd hidden her own dance card long before, preferring to dance with whomever she chose before someone who believed they were entitled to her company. Alice didn't regret this decision until the end of the Venetian when she'd been twirled into the awaiting arms of him.

He steadied her quickly and easily, more so than even she could have done herself. That intrigued her. What else intrigued her was how incredibly handsome he was up close, inhumanely so. It started the warning again in the back of her head. Like so often in her life, she ignored it. Her inner Damon coming out, she supposed.

Alice looked up at him from under her eyelashes and blinked in a way she knew was prettily. "Now, Mr. Mikaelson, I do believe you are holding me in a manner much too intimate for two people who have not been properly introduced."

"And you have yet to pull away," he remarked. His voice was a predatory as his eyes and Alice swore she needed her corset loosened. Preferably by him.

"I would, but it seems that there is a gentleman who has a very strong grip on my waist to prevent such an occurrence." Alice raised a brow at him. With that small, dangerous, enticing smirk he stepped back with a slight bow. Alice dropped a curtsy.

"Kol Mikaelson," he said, still smirking. "Charmed, I'm sure."

"Alice Montgomery. Pleasure," she said curtly. Her blatant disregard for him only seemed to entice him more.

"Well, Miss Montgomery, would you give me the pleasure of sharing this dance? We do seem to be setting up quite the blockade." And they were. The spot they had stopped in forced several couples to dance around them and into others.

"If only to save us the embarrassment, Mr. Mikaelson, I'll accept."

He took her hand and her waist and proceeded to sweep her across the floor. He was a marvelous dancer, light and effortless, and Alice melted into his movements. Normally she hated letting a man lead (other than her brothers; her brothers were lovely dancers) but this was different. She had no fear that he would make any large missteps. He was still holding slightly too close to be proper.

"Did you know, Miss Montgomery, that you are a very beautiful young woman?" he said.

"So I've been told," answered Alice.

"I've known a plethora of beautiful women, Miss Montgomery," his accent wrapped around the worlds, "but I have never encountered someone with eyes quite like yours."

"I suppose that's a compliment?" said Alice, raising her ice-blue eyes to his dark ones. In her mind she laughed, knowing that she had a brother somewhere whose eyes matched her own.

"I don't believe you take compliments," he said, "I believe that you believe you are too intelligent for them. Instead, I offer you a fact."

"How very kind of you," retorted Alice wryly. She lowered her gaze and it fell instead to the lapels of a masterfully designed suit. And then she saw it, the small cluster of red droplets that blended into the black fabric.

Blood. He had blood on his jacket.

Alice jerked her head up slightly, glancing anywhere but there. Small instances from her new home began to clarify. The neck pieces worn by most of the maids, Lavie's comments about how little food he seemed to need. How easy it had been to make her way into the family. Half of Boston's wealth was probably under his spell, and she was simply riding his coattails. And if he was powerful enough to do that, then he was old, much older than Alice. He probably knew exactly what she was, and that was why he'd been watching her since she walked in. Well, two could play at that game.

Alice arched her back and leaned into him, her lips falling dangerously close to his ears. "You know, you should really know better, Mr. Mikaelson."

"And why is that?" he whispered back. Alice tried not to shiver as his breath brushed across her neck.

"You have blood on your lapel. You should really take more care when cleaning up after a quick bite," replied Alice. She felt more than heard the low rumble of a growl in his chest.

Alice stepped back, and dropped into a curtsy. "Thank you for the dance, Mr. Mikaelson. It has been rather… illuminating."

As Alice turned to leave that's when she felt it. The raw surge of power from around him left her breathless. She couldn't believe she managed to ignore it before, or perhaps he'd simply been hiding it. He was old; so, so old. Older than Lexi or Katherine, perhaps older than both combined.

As she walked through the entrance to the foyer, and then to the family quarters, Alice made herself a promise, even as his eyes stayed upon her back. She would never, ever allow him to get too close. He was dangerous, a threat, and she wouldn't fall for his charms even if his looks were swoon-worthy and his eyes were captivating.

Ah, the fateful moment of their first meeting. I'm so happy I finally got to share this with you guys.