A big thank you for unwillingsuspensionofdisbelief for allowing me to take her amazing head canon regarding the travelers and to play with it again. And a thank you to klarolinessecondbreakfast for my amazing cover!
Warnings: Torture. References of Torture. Violence. Blood. Gore. So on.
The day she buried Bonnie Bennett it was snowing. Chicago was unforgiving, the wind cut through the small cemetery and she almost wished she could feel the cold. Hands shoved into her pockets, she stared at the little headstone her friend had wanted.
"Nothing ridiculous, Caroline. Not when we both know you're the only one who'll miss me. You won't need a fancy grave with me rotting inside to remember me. You can't even put my real name on it."
Right then, Caroline would've given anything to have one of those smiling digs tossed at her. For sixty years, Caroline and Bonnie had kept a low profile, mostly sticking to themselves. Most of the vampires whom she'd associated with over the years had been the unloyal, and those without the mark that bound them into what Caroline had always thought of as a type of slavery.
An entire society, built on nothing more than a single mark bestowed on a vampire at its making. Sometimes, the mark was a reference to a single vampire, sometimes it referred to a particular family. A guideline, of sorts, to who you were most likely to be loyal too. Regardless of who your mark referenced, if betrayed, that mark disappeared.
For many, that betrayal resulted in death.
Caroline just didn't understand the logic behind such a spell. Loyalty was earned, not taken, and how could a spell know the depths of a person's heart? A new vampire was a cocktail of horrible and wonderful things, how did magic declare that this family or that person was who you'd be loyal too?
Once, and only once, had Caroline heard it suggested that the spell was something else. Not the basis for a class system based on some cryptic idea of loyalty, but a punishment. A soulmate spell that had gone terribly, tragically wrong.
Bonnie had been unimpressed with that particular explanation.
"Of course that would've gone badly. Old magic always goes badly. What was the spell anchored with?" Eyes narrowed, she'd snorted in derision even as she picked at her food in the dingy little bar they'd been eating in.
The vampire frowned. "You smell human, girl."
Bonnie gave him a flat smile, eyes narrowed. "I am."
"Human girls don't need to be sticking their noses into witch business," he'd warned. "That's how you get killed."
"Don't I know it."
Caroline knew it too.
She'd awoken with blood between her teeth and her best friend's screams in her ears. She'd never forget, the way sun had burned against her skin; Bonnie's face when she'd walked away. Bonnie who'd staggered back to their shared on-campus apartment a week later, pale and broken in ways that Caroline hadn't known a human could survive.
Bonnie had paid for their lives with her magic.
Caroline had promised that if she ever saw Abby Bennett again she'd destroy her. It was a promise she intended to keep. Witches could live a long time, but so could a vampire. The world wasn't so large that you could hide forever.
Sometimes, she wondered how they'd ever muddled through that first year of her vampirism. Bonnie terrified of her monster; Caroline was desperate for control. But eventually, they'd made a wary truce and one day, Bonnie had handed her a pretty ring.
"I know someone… I'm sorry I got you into this."
"We're friends, Bonnie." Caroline murmured, eyes grave. "Where else would I be?"
Fingertips careful, Bonnie traced the perfect triangle stamped onto Caroline's left wrist. "Whoever this belongs too, I hope they're worthy of the strength of your heart, Caroline."
But Caroline never intended to track the mysterious vampire down. Eternity was long enough without adding to it someone who'd expect unending loyalty. For what?
The only person she'd cared about was dead
Lifting her head at the sound of car doors shutting, she glanced at the black SUV. A handful of people walked out, and she sighed as her quiet was broken. What did it mean, that she came to a graveside to think?
Chicago was changing.
The eclectic underground of vampires had been rapidly shifting over the past two years. Most of the unmarked vampires she knew were under five decades, and they'd all been twitchy lately. Troubling rumors that the Originals had returned stateside left everyone jumpy. That family left nothing but blood and terror in its wake. Caroline had heard the horror stories of those few individuals who bore their marks, the unyielding loyalty that did not bend.
The mark on her wrist burned today.
Maybe it was time to do as Bonnie had suggested and start looking for new adventures.
Klaus had known the feel of wanderlust, had spent most of his life being hunted. Sitting still for months on end grated. This was hardly his first trip to the States, Chicago in particular. He might've preferred his seat of power in New Orleans, but Chicago was useful.
But as he sat at the familiar bar in Gloria's for the first time in nearly twelve decades, that faint, niggling itch eased. Gaze narrowing, he scanned the premises. Nothing seemed unusual as the regulars filtered in, but he knew the pull of magic. He'd lived with the consequences of it in various forms for a thousand years.
"You're going to scare away my customers, and while you're good for the bill, I'd like to keep them all the same."
Klaus arched a brow and finished his drink. "Now, Gloria. I've been a model customer tonight."
Sharp eyes watched him as she refilled his glass. "Just keep whatever you're hunting off my doorstep."
Was he hunting? Glancing into the mirror that sat behind the bar to look at the occupants, Klaus considered her words. Chicago was supposed to have been quick, a little side trip for some bones Kol had left behind on his last little killing spree. Bones could be useful things, in the hands of the correct witch, so Klaus had agreed.
But actively hunting?
He tapped his fingers along the bar, and considered. He wasn't particularly fond of being at magic's mercy, had developed a bit of a taste for torturing those who tried to use it against him. Very few had managed to both fail and succeeded as spectacularly as little Katerina's witch family.
Not that that particular bloodline existed anymore. He'd ground their bones to dust, salted the lot and dispersed bits and pieces over the centuries into the ocean. That family would bother him no more.
But their last spell lingered.
Kol had coined it the loyalty curse, and over the years, the phrase had stuck. It had taken a few decades, to understand the nuances of the spell that had been bound to his family's blood (and by extension, every vampire created) with Katerina's doppelgänger blood. And what an interesting gift it had been, even if the bitter truth at the center of everything had been so carefully concealed.
Soulmates.
His gaze narrowed at the thought.
His family had been careful to provide only very specific information to the vampire populace, much as they had with the Sun and Moon curse. A few over the years had stumbled across the truth, but they were disposed of easily enough.
Now, it was common knowledge that vampires were marked by the magical oaths they swore. The brokering of those oaths was an accepted part of their society. Failure to maintain their oathbound loyalty meant a messy and lingering death.
But the pesky little spell liked to cause occasional havoc, and there had been a few spontaneous markings over the years. A throwback to the soulmate intentions of the original spell. Those instances were rare and difficult to explain, and usually resulted in multiple deaths.
Klaus was willing to admit he was a jealous creature. He'd no use for a soulmate, had no desire for the weakness it would carve along his chest, but rarely did he allow others to keep what he was denied.
But magic did not stay tightly confined to its boundaries, and even as Klaus had bent the spell to his whims, it had… changed. Originally, his intent had been to bury the true meaning of his curse, to limit those who understood exactly how soulmate magic worked. In that regard, he'd been successful. Soulmates were rare, and that both would find themselves reborn as vampires was rarer still. But just because the odds were against them didn't mean that a vampire born wearing a soulmate mark didn't occasionally happen.
Eventually, the existence of paired soulmates would filter to him. Klaus studied each couple thoroughly; torturing and testing their loyalty, the magic between them. What did the magic the travelers unleashed see and how did he prevent the culmination of the curse? Not even the brightest of witches could say.
To complicate matters, over the years it became clear that his attempts to modify the spell had altered some of the original spell's intentions. Now each oath mark was a true indicator of allegiance; not just an indication of a vampire submitting to the curse. It had become a physical representation of their magical oath of fidelity and marks could change.
Perhaps his paranoia, his need for utmost loyalty had twisted the magic. For a few decades, he'd hoped that meant the possibility of a soulmate was eradicated. Then a vampire named Enzo had shown up at their London property, sporting a familiar mark on his left wrist. The fit that Bekah had thrown, the terror she had rained through the house until he'd agreed not to kill the vampire had been absurd.
Enzo was wary of the family and their politics, but even Klaus had grudgingly admitted that once settled, Enzo was fiercely loyal to Rebekah. Elijah had approved, but Klaus was holding back an opinion for a few more centuries. Regardless of Rebekah's insistence that Enzo was hers.
"I don't know what you're so paranoid about, Nik. He is mine. Logic would suggest you'd have someone too; we all have cursed marks." Rebekah had stared at him with cold eyes. "And when you find your soulmate, whatever harm you do to Enzo, I'll repay fully. Remember that."
The type of loyalty he'd desire from such a creature was beyond most. To be truly willing to put someone before himself, regardless of the personal cost? Klaus wasn't sure he'd was capable of such selflessness, regardless of what the soulmate magic would demand from him. No doubt that was the travelers' hope. To feed those possessive, weak parts of his heart so that when he undoubtedly destroyed them both it'd ruin him.
He'd seen how soulmates dug into each other; the way magic scored into muscle and bone, until the pair carried bits and pieces of the other beneath their skin. How they were laid bare, tangling and bonding in ways he did not comprehend. The draw between soulmates only grew more potent as the years grew longer. Klaus did not understand how after a millennium he could be expected to focus on one creature. Thirst, for a single vampire. To crave another nightmares' acceptance and loyalty.
Yet, his wolf wanted that connection. The boy who'd died at his father's sword longed for it. The monster had spent five hundred years trying to eradicate the need for it from his chest. To have such a connection and then to lose it? Eternity would break, under such circumstances.
So he'd continued to hunt for a way to thwart his curse. But as his ever present need to be somewhere faded, Klaus found himself fighting down his curiosity. His rage, his furious denials over the years mattered little now as he found himself facing the first real possibility of his previously ephemeral soulmates' existence. There was just a burning desire to have, to possess. What kind of creature did fate believe reflected the needs of his soul? He'd offer it pity, if he was capable of such an emotion.
If his soulmate was in this city, he'd find it.
Even if he had to level Chicago, building by building.
Caroline liked Gloria's. It was a curious mixture of sophisticated and rowdy; the witch who ran it had a no nonsense approach that Bonnie had admired. It had been months since she stopped by, but Gloria had sent her a lovely sympathy card. Caroline had always wondered if Gloria suspected Bonnie's heritage, but she'd never asked.
She was tired of silence. So she'd braced against the fresh falling snow and headed out. The walk was pretty, most of the city ducking for cover and her heart eased a little. Caroline smiled at a group of men, let her eyes warn them as she approached the bar.
She'd learned a long time ago that her monster was an asset. Fresh in the supernatural, Bonnie stripped of her powers, her fangs had been the only defense they'd had. Caroline had embraced her vampirism, and she loved life. One day, she'd find Abby Bennett and make her suffer, for the years she'd stolen from her daughter.
The bar was packed.
Unwinding her scarf, she blinked as she took in the surprising crowd. It wasn't a weekend, for this crowd to be quite this unruly. There was a band playing and the laughter was a touch intoxicated. Weaving her way to the bar, she smiled at the exasperate bartender.
"I was expecting a little bit of a quieter night," Caroline said as she accepted the Bloody Mary that was pushed in her direction.
"Some old friends are in town," Gloria murmured. "Very old friends."
"What's going on?
Gloria looked at her for a long moment. "It might not be a bad thing, Caroline, that you're in mourning. Think about staying that way, until things settle down."
Caroline frowned and took a sip of her drink. In the five decades she'd known Gloria, she'd never seen that particular glint behind the witch's eyes. Licking her lip, she nodded. Gloria knew of Caroline's reluctance to take any type of loyalty vow, but Caroline had never given her details. She liked the witch, but Gloria hadn't reached her age by putting others first.
She stayed at the bar for an hour, studying the crush of people while she chatted with Gloria. She knew some of the vampires that came and went, congregating in the back booths. Older vampires, who kept their fingers in the supernatural and had large collections of loyalty oaths.
She was digging in her bag for her scarf when someone stepped between the stools and leaned against the bar. Caroline straightened, just as unfamiliar, clipped British caught her attention. Her gaze flicked up, and she caught the corner of her lip at the sight of dark blond curls, and a curling smile as he placed his order. He was attractive, but it was the edge of his smile that stirred her beast.
Warning sparked down her spine.
"Excuse me," Caroline murmured as she moved to slip by. He glanced at her with dark eyes before his attention was caught by Gloria. She went to shift past him, murmuring her apology as the edge of her jacket brushed him. Static electricity arced between, and she froze when long fingers curled around her left wrist.
Glancing up, Caroline narrowed her gaze and tugged against that hold. "Let go."
His eyes were very blue, but the edges bled with yellow she didn't understand. Head tilting, Caroline's stomach flipped at the crawling pit behind his eyes. There was something old watching her, and the predator under her skin crawled into her gaze.
"Who are you, sweetheart?" A tilt of his head, and his voice lowered. "More importantly, who exactly do you belong to?"
She tugged harder, and that just seemed to amuse him. Lips curling to show a set of dimples, he flipped her hand over and froze at the sight of bare skin. Heart hammering in her throat, she almost stumbled when he released her. He looked puzzled, as if he'd expected to find a mark, and she took the opportunity of Gloria calling his name to bolt.
Klaus.
Surely that wasn't the Klaus. Fingers trembling, she set a brisk pace and tried to ignore way she could still feel his fingers pressed against her skin. Tried not to wonder what would have happened if she hadn't hidden the triangle tatoo on her wrist.
For two weeks, he'd roamed the supernatural of Chicago. There was an interesting little subculture made up of young vampires trying to avoid a loyalty oath. Tonight's meeting had been to discuss that subset, to dig through the bones of those who'd allowed even a few baby vampires to believe they could avoid service to his family.
Not that the magic that sat in their veins would allow them to avoid taking a vow past their fifth decade. But five decades of freedom were more than Klaus was willing to allow. He'd made that clear to those who thought themselves the ruling class of the city, reminded them of whose favor they wished to maintain.
Sitting in the quiet as Gloria's people worked to clean the bar, Klaus mulled over that night's surprise. Six or so decades of vampirism, and no loyalty mark. He should be considering how to make an example of her; he wanted to dig under her skin, understand how she'd avoided the magic that clung to his family's creations.
She hadn't carried the scent of a ripper, and at six decades, the magic should have been tugging at her veins. Klaus was intrigued and should have been concentrating on unraveling the amusing puzzle in front of him. Instead, he found himself thinking of the darkness of her gaze and the veins beneath her eyes.
She was quite lovely.
But it wasn't the blond curls and dark eyes that interested him. He'd ruined creatures far more beautiful than her. Drumming his fingers against counter, Klaus frowned deeply before finishing his drink.
The young vampire hadn't flinched from the hint of his monster. Brave of her. He'd liked that hint of steel. She'd need it. Because regardless of her bare skin, her touch had hummed against him. It was possible that she'd hidden her oath, and wasn't that a tempting new puzzle?
Intriguing or not, the young vampire hadn't side stepped his family's curse entirely. He'd felt the magic on her skin; the same magic every vampire carried. Tossing down a wad of bills, Klaus stood. He planned on leaving Chicago as soon as he'd collected what belonged to him, and until then, he saw no reason to be bored. A conversation with the lovely vampire from the bar seemed to be just the distraction he needed.
Caroline tried to grip the slippery chains with her hands. Anything for a bit of leverage, to ease the pressure on her ruined wrists. The wound in her side had slowed, but it wasn't closing. She'd lost too much blood to heal. Carefully, she shifted her grip. Breath hitching, she clenched her jaw tightly to keep from crying out as her grip slipped, and she jerked painfully against the chains.
Her toes didn't quite touch the floor.
Chest heaving, she opened her eyes to study the line of sunshine moving across the floor. She knew the pain of burning in the sun. She'd dessicate herself breaking free of the chains before she'd burn inch by slow inch. Biting back exhausted tears of frustration, Caroline took a deep breath. All she could smell now was the heavy metallic scent of her blood. Still, she'd remember the vampire who'd tortured her, as Abby Bennett had watched.
Abby Bennett had stood in her apartment.
"You can't hold out," Abby had told her, smile amused. She'd waved the vampire away, so she could approach Caroline, eyes mocking. "A few hours from now, you'll have twisted around on those chains like a fish while the sun cooks you. We'll see how loose your tongue is then."
Caroline said nothing, letting only the harsh sounds of her breathing fill the space between them.
"You know, Caroline, I'd have killed you the moment you transitioned, if I'd know the conditions my daughter had put on her giving up her magic. It was such a disappointment, that she'd taken so strongly after my mother." Abby brushed her hair away from her eyes, lip curling downwards into a faint frown. "She certainly didn't take after her father."
"You didn't deserve her," Caroline ground out, blood flecking her lips.
"What do you know of deserving?" Abby questioned, brow arching. "You who abandoned everything, left your parents behind to protect one useless girl?"
"Bonnie," Caroline rasped, "was my friend."
Abby dismissed her with a shrug. "So was the Gilbert girl; you didn't mourn her nearly as well, did you? Her death was a disappointment, I'd hoped to study her, the strange magic in her blood. Fate can be such a tricky bitch. Regardless, Caroline Forbes, you have my daughter's bones and I will have them."
"Go to hell."
Abby laughed. "We're already there, Care-bear. What does it matter if you linger? My daughter was your only real friend. It's not as if anyone will look for you."
She motioned to the vampire and perched herself back on her chair. "But until then, be a dear, and entertain me with your screams."
Caroline would die, before she gave Abby Bennett anything. But she'd no intention of being here when they returned. Looking back upwards at the chains, Caroline bit down sharply on her lip. Moving hurt. Each breath, each shudder from the cold that had set into her bones, left her swaying painfully. She'd lost track of time, but the golden edge of sunlight that crept across her ruined floor told her enough.
Desperation gave her strength.
She managed to lurch a few, precious inches upwards before falling, wrists jerking with force so that her vision went hazy.
"Well now," a low, rumbling voice murmured. "This is hardly what I was expecting to find, love."
Caroline's eyes moved slowly to the front door of her apartment. She stared, chains trembling as she shook in continued agony. Wild curls, and a scruffy jaw, but his eyes held no amusement today. Klaus.
She wondered if she was hallucinating.
"Come to finish the job?" Her words were a ragged rasp, her monster desperately thirsty.
His lips curled, but the smile wasn't comforting. "If I want someone dead, sweetheart, you'll find I enjoy taking a far more, personal interest. But I am most curious."
Caroline could only stare at him from exhausted eyes as he pushed away from the door. His gaze moved slowly about her apartment before returning to her. Something about the set of his mouth, the arch of his brow pricked at the monster in her veins.
She was certain she wanted nothing to do with his curiosity.
The predator she'd only sensed last night was clear in his eyes and she clenched her jaw to keep from trembling from more than cold. "Tell me, little vampire, why do you believe I should be concerned with an unmarked of inconsequential age?"
Caroline straighten as best she could, tip toes barely grazing the floor slick with her blood. Unmarked. Such a simple word. Such a lie.
"You seem to have an issue with unmarked vampires, regardless of age," she managed to reply, words scraping along her raw throat. "I was told you wanted an example."
Abby had thought herself clever. So had the vampire with the knife who'd gloated, as she carved into parts of Caroline. No one would look at her murder as being unusual, not with the Hybrid in town. She'd be rolled under the proverbial rug, left to rot on the other side.
"He doesn't look like a killer, Klaus," Abby had said, teeth white as she smiled. "With that face, and delicious build. Charming, our nightmare. But he's known for his penchant for torture. Tell me where you buried my daughter, and we'll let you die easy. There won't be a need to maintain this charade."
"He's vicious," the vampire murmured. "I was privileged to watch him work in Italy. Skinned a lad. It took three days, because the flesh kept growing back. Then, the lad was made to eat his organs, and later, his intestines. Whatever I do to you won't have Klaus' usual flare of course, but he's known for losing his temper. We'll just bash you about a bit."
"Or you you can give us your loyalty oath," Abby prompted, eyes gleaming. "Think about it, while the sun turns parts of you to ash."
Fingertips that were oddly gentle brushed along her jaw, and Caroline parted lashes that she hadn't realized she'd closed. Klaus' touch burned against her skin, even after his hand fell away. Eyes holding hers, he licked her blood from his fingers and his gaze tinged yellow.
Why was he here? She doubted he knew about Abby Bennett, doubted he'd play clean up for any creature. But there was no reason for him to be in her apartment.
"You're grey, love. You won't heal without blood," Klaus' smile was a blade. "Desiccation is a slow death."
"Better than burning," Caroline said hoarsely.
"Make me an offer," he murmured, head canting to the side. "I'll cut you down, give you the blood you desperately need. Surely your life is worth a mere oath."
Caroline closed her eyes. It hurt to draw air now, and thirst of her monster burned more than her wrists. Part of her longed to give him the oath, to let the falsehoods sit on her tongue. She wanted to live. But no vampire could carry more than one mark, and she'd been reborn with harsh lines already carved onto her skin.
Shuddering on her next breath, her words were like glass in her throat. "Shut the door on your way out."
"Tell me, Caroline," Klaus questioned, tone curious. "What is it that you find worth more than life?"
Nothing. Everything. A choice. Perhaps dying wasn't her choice, but it was a choice, and those had been taken away from her for too long. Becoming a vampire. Giving an oath. Watching Bonnie die of old age, because of a mother's greed.
She didn't know why Abby wanted her daughter's bones, but she'd never get them. Caroline might not have been able to protect Bonnie when they'd been children, but she could now. The mark on her skin might've claimed her loyalty for an unknown vampire, but Bonnie was her choice.
"That wasn't a request," Klaus warned softly. "You might be dying, but you are not there yet. Shall we see what pain I can add to your passing?"
Ass. But Caroline saw no reason not to answer, when she sat at death's door. Not when Klaus could choose to extend her suffering. The dead kept their secrets.
"Choice," she managed, lashes fluttering, but not quite managing to part. "People deserve a choice."
"Now that's interesting," Klaus mused, his tone nearly thoughtful. His fingertips felt like brands against her cheekbone, and she shuddered, swinging heavily on the chains. "Most vampires consider loyalty to be a choice; wrong though they may be."
Dredging up what little strength she'd left, Caroline cracked open her eyes. Klaus' gaze was yellow now, and the wildness there left her muscles tense with alarm. He leaned forward, until their breaths mingled.
"What do you know of the loyalty curse?"
It was hard to focus. "It sucks."
A quirk of his lips, but Klaus didn't otherwise move. "I can let you die, but why not answer my question, buy yourself a little time? Perhaps a quicker ending?"
Loyalty curse. Caroline thought of the mark on her wrist, let herself consider all the questions she'd never asked for fear of attention. The rumors and myths, of what it meant to have one. Looking at the nightmare of her kind, Caroline wondered. What kind of creature wore his mark?
"My loyalties are none of your business," she whispered with the last of her voice.
Klaus didn't move, but a pit opened behind his eyes and Caroline couldn't breathe. The weight of his gaze left her frozen as he flayed her open with the age of that look. Judgement sat behind his eyes. Judge, jury, and executioner watched her with a terrible violence she knew would leave her screaming with night terrors, should she survive.
Caroline tried to swallow, to blink, and coughed instead, rattling her lungs and the chains. Something primal rumbled in Klaus' chest, and she groaned as he stepped into her body. Then his arm slid around her waist and unexpectedly held her weight.
She shook her head, unable to speak.
"Indulge me," Klaus demanded, darkness layering his tone. Disbelief left her lightheaded, as he wound the chains in his hands and tore them free from the ceiling. He ignored the bloody floor as he crouched, studied her face.
Caroline's head lolled, as she tried to look at him. Whatever lived behind Klaus' gaze was tucked away again, behind the gold of the wolf, and iron studied her instead. His wrist lifted to the sharp curl of his lips, and she let her lashes close. The world was swimming, and even the scent of fresh blood couldn't focus her monster.
But the sudden taste…
It flooded across her tongue like ambrosia, and broken and bloody hands latched onto the forearm pressed against her mouth tightly. Caroline didn't care about the soft sound of amusement or the clanking of chains as she drank and drank. She didn't know how long she'd fed before she pulled back, the worst of the agony faded to mere aches.
"Better, sweetheart?"
Caroline dropped his arm like it'd scalded her. They sat in her blood, her wrists still wrapped in rusted iron, and his blood was the sweetest she'd ever had on her tongue. Eyes wide, she stared at Klaus who watched her with a gaze gone feral. Swallowing, Caroline licked her lips.
"I will not swear an oath to you."
The hand in her hair shifted to curve around the nape of her neck and she tensed. There was something about his eyes, a certain amount of delight now that he'd passed judgement; a sense of him having won thatCaroline did not understand.
"Hmm," Klaus mused, lips tugging upwards. "Most vampires have a very specific view of what a loyalty mark is and how it affects their position within society. Very few, would refuse a chance to become part of my household, regardless of the risks. To be sure, many of them lack the knowledge to understand why an oath is so dangerous. But I have gone to great lengths to ensure this. Rumors can shift of course, but I'm sure you've noticed that in a room with ten baby vampires, nine will tell the same story."
She studied him warily. "Why are you telling me this?"
Caroline nearly flinched, when his fingertips dragged lightly behind her ear, a dangerous caress. For all that his touch remained soft, his gaze threatened to swallow her whole.
"Over the years, I've seen only two types of vampires who refuse to swear a loyalty oath," Klaus murmured. "Particularly when it comes to saving their own lives. Bargains only require the correct amount of leverage, after all. Everyone has a price."
"I'm not interested in what you think is a bargain," Caroline said shakily.
"And isn't that fascinating," he said, smile quick and wide; her stomach went tight. "It doesn't particularly matter, sweetheart. Tell me, how did you hide your mark?"
Her mouth went bone dry, as his eyes glittered at her.
"Come now," Klaus chastised as she shook her head in silent denial. "You are not a ripper. Blood does not override your ability to be. So that means you're marked. How did you hide it? I had my hands on your skin, I felt the magic, but I let you go because your skin appeared bare."
"We were at a bar," Caroline countered weakly, fingers trembling. "It was full of magic."
He laughed, fingers sliding through her hair and she leaned away from him. "You are exceedingly clever, love. And I'm curious, why hide it? The right loyalty could mean endless power."
"You don't know that I did," she said stubbornly.
"Do I not? I've created a society that deliberately puts new vampires in a precarious position. The curse itself plays a part, driving those who are without a mark to search until they find one. I've seen vampires rip themselves apart, trying to balance their need with their oaths." His dimples cut deep, seemingly delighted with the knowledge of what he'd done, and her stomach twisted. "You didn't need information on how to gain a mark, sweetheart, because you have one. You've always had one. And it has been some time, since I've seen one of you."
Caroline knew her face showed her unease, but this sudden change in his demeanor left her reeling. The threatening hybrid from moments before had been replaced by an amused creature who watched her with covetous eyes. Bewildered, she shifted and was reminded of the chains as they dragged along the floor.
"One of me?"
"Someone's soulmate," Klaus murmured, stroking the line of her chin with careful fingers. "The perfect bait."
"There are no such things as soulmates," Caroline said shakily, flinching away from his touch. Klaus laughed, the sound bouncing through her apartment, the corners of his eyes crinkling with this amusement.
"They are rare," he agreed. "But I would hardly call them impossible. We are the nightmares that walk the shadows sweetheart. But I find it intriguing, that you've nearly dessicated yourself, but not for whom your mark belongs too. Have you not found your other half yet? I confess, it's far more interesting to torture you together."
His smile widened further, at the way she went still, breath turning shallow. "It's nothing personal, sweetheart.
"It seems personal," she croaked, tongue snaking across her tongue.
"I suppose it would seem that way," Klaus said thoughtfully. "It will of course depend on who fate has decided you belong to. A bit disappointing, that I will have to kill you, when I've found you so very fascinating. Intelligence like yours should be rewarded, once it belongs to the right hands. But once given, a soulmate mark can only be broken by death; I've experimented extensively."
Her lips trembled, at the way he casually referenced killing. The torture he alluded to with a quirk of his mouth. "Why?"
"Why?" He repeated, reaching to tug slowly at one of her bloody curls. "Because five hundred years ago, a witch broke the laws of magic and cursed me with a soulmate. For five centuries, my wolf has longed for something that may never exist. Why should I let others enjoy what I cannot have?"
She jerked her head, uncaring about the pull of her hair. "You're a monster."
He shrugged. "I am a great many things, Caroline, and very little would be considered redeemable by anyone. But I too, am marked. Shall I describe it to you? You won't live long enough to use it against me. It's fairly simple, just three lines. A triangle."
Caroline's lungs seized. Gaze dropping from his face, her eyes landed on the bare skin of his left wrist. Nothing. It was impossible.
"Ah, I do not wear my vulnerability on my wrist. Not the way most vampires do, for the curse originates from me. Instead, I'm marked where the last traveler witch scoured my back with her nails as she died under my hands; blood gurgling in her throat as she drowned. If I'd known then what I know now, her death would have lasted far longer. But I do have her legacy. Tell me who you are protecting, why someone would take the time to torture you so elegantly, and I will make your death quick."
It felt as if her lungs had turned to blocks of ice. Klaus must have seen her terror, because the shift in his smile rattled her bones. Dimples and sin, his clothes and scruff streaked with her blood, he terrified her. He couldn't… he couldn't wear her mark.
The monster in her veins stretched.
Klaus' gaze shifted, as if he sensed the change, to study her face. "Last chance, sweetheart. Or shall I just peel away your iron bindings? The witch was quite sloppy. The spell was anchored to the ceiling instead of the chains."
"Please don't do this," Caroline rasped.
His brow arched. "Apologies, sweetheart, but not all endings are happy."
The chains fell away from her wrists with two quick tugs, and the stark lines of the triangle were visible even through rust of her dried blood. She tried to turn her wrist, to move it away from his sight, but his fingers clenched around her forearm, nails cutting into her skin just below the black lines. Her bones creaked, and she bit her lip bloody, to stifle the sound of hurt in her throat. Her gaze darted to his face without her permission, and her eyes bled black, fangs dropping at the expression she found waiting for her.
The pit she'd glimpsed before was nothing in comparison to the endless darkness that sat behind his gaze now. Threaded through the black ice, was a feral, wild claiming that sent shocks up her arm, as his thumb moved across her tattoo. The hand that had lingered near her curls shifted to her chin, his grip biting and possessive.
The monster in her veins hissed, and Klaus smiled. A terrible, bladed smile, double fangs on display as his grip tightened. Before she could draw in a breath, his hand jerked and her world went dark.
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