YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL
[the half-blood witch]
-
"I hope she'll be a fool-that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool..." Marcel toyed with the literary treasure, flipping aimlessly through withered pages of The Great Gatsby. "You see, I think everything's terrible anyhow... And I know. I've been everywhere and seen everything and done everything."
Masculine hands gripped the novel with casual strength and an underlying longing. It was obvious, a bold gesture of goading his sire into a verbal at the farthermost end of the Louisiana Jazz Club, Niklaus watched his adult heir recite spoken word. A handsome pecan brown, the muscular vampire resided on a large polished edge; his bum propped against the rim of a black bar stool whilst a microphone, stand and all, poised before full lips. Lips that tantalized and consumed the loins of all blessed by the sound of his cocky voice.
Hundreds of infants and newborn vampires crowded the establishment to see their king. Gangly arms tangled and dead bodies collided in heaps, each fighting to be front and center. Bushels of blonde and chocolate hair mingled whilst contrasting skin tones of ebony and vanilla scattered throughout the bar. Several of Marcel's soldiers lined ivory walling of the club. Brawny men, their muscles bulged just slightly under layered clothing. All the lifeless monsters and their breathless chants only served to created an unfathomable heat.
It was damn near suffocating. Too many bodies occupied the small space.
And absolutely boring.
Glass chilled against the palm of his hands. Other things were on his mind. A baby hybrid was being born, he planned to overthrow his own son - for make no mistake, Marcel was his chosen child. Guilt plagued him, the solution a brand of whiskey at the bottom of his cup. Klaus chugged the brown beverage quickly. Rushing fire splashed the tips of his taste buds and sent them spiraling. His entire tongue vibrated in his mouth. Rough fingers squeezed his glass for stability.
Crussssh! Harsh digit cracked the glass in half. No a single, solitary cut. Fragments of chipped material fell to the counter. It was a long red oak finish with matching stools and red seat covers. Bottles of Absolute, Patron and several different vodkas and whiskey were shelved behind the counter. Aged wine was tucked behind the latest alcoholic trends for special occasions. The Original hybrid looked around. No one seemed a bit aware of his frustrations. All eyes were on Marcel. Marcel. MARCEL!
Jealousy shook his cold demeanor.
"YOU'RE THE MAN, MONSIEUR MARCEL!" Cries of adoration sickened Klaus' stomach. Everyone loved Marcel. No one loved him. Envy over his own child was pathetic, Klaus knew. Marcel may have been reared a slave but he was the smartest man Klaus knew - much more intelligent than himself. Often times the Original hybrid prided himself on having sense enough to take in such an extraordinary being.
Now... not so much.
Glass fragments sprinkled from wretched palms. Both hands found their way to counter in frustration. The blonde started to lift himself when snapping fingers sounded. Snap! Snap! Snap! Bright baby blues fluttered over the crowd to the spotlit stage. His protege climbed down from the stage at eager haste. Clad in a black Marco Jacobs suit, Marcel slapped five with several of his men. Women rushed him but were hindered by foot soldiers ready to pick up their fan-girl hearts and panties.
"Whoa, whoa!" The King of New Orleans pressed flattened palms against his friend. "Sit, sit, mon ami." To which Klaus rolled his eyes and puffed. Marcel gave him a sideways grin. "I have a special surprise coming up. This girl, my girl actually is a favorite... I mean she had to be if no one has fed on her yet."
Golden curls shifted to catch his protege's eyes. Now this peaked his interest. Marcel had a human female companion. Klaus lowered back to his seat as Marcel took the stool beside him. Both males turned on their bums to face the stage. The pale vampire stared at his darker counterpart for the first time intrigued. The tip of his tongue clicked his teeth, "So, you allow humans to entertain here, do you? How politically correct of you, mate."
Tailored suit shrugged, "Witch actually;" His sire's mouth fell open. "Oh come on, Klaus, I don't hate witches. I just don't need 'em stirrin' up trouble in my town. As long as they follow the rules, here is fair treatment."
"Undoubtedly." There was no hiding his icy veneer.
Beside him, the Cajun gentleman grinned before turning his attention back to the stage. Several vampires set up two amps on either side. Another dragged out a drum set whilst another positioned a microphone center-stage. The foot soldier with the curly afro and coconut color skin tone stood at the microphone. Above chandelier light fixtures began to dim, the crowd let out a collective sigh of awe. Only one commanded such an extraordinary entrance.
"Mesdames et Messieurs," the vampire announced: " it is my pleasure to present the delectable siren herself - the young, spell casting, singing fire engine, Mademoiselle Bennett."
A Bennett witch?! Klaus sat forward, fist tightening in and out. He just couldn't escape those little power hungry, plan ruining bitches. Seeing his sudden shift, Marcel reached over. A callous hand landed on the hybrid's knee. He gave it an affectionate squeeze before returning it back to his person. The blonde offered the first genuine smile since their argument days ago over the ownership of New Orleans. At least here, Marcel would insure the witch couldn't attack him - in broad daylight, well public night.
At the front of the club, the two Kings watched as a group moved toward the stage, no doubt the witch's entourage. Pass tables, filling the building, towards the crowded dance floor, cat calls howled at the little enchantress. Keen eyes could barely make out the Creole witch currently climbing the three step podium. All he could make out was bone straight blonde hair and red dress. It wasn't until the Bennett girl faced the crowded did he recognize her .
Caramel skin, dark and creamy - baby green eyes with a flicking gold tint - blonde hair or not this was definitely Bonnie Bennett.
"Bloody sodding witch!" Both legs shot up just in time for Marcel to catch his arm. Touch so familiar, the hybrid was surprised he was more comfortable - deciding not to snatch away. Marcel whispered, "Niklaus, I know she is very beautiful and I will let you have her for one night if you like, but dragging her off the stage is bad for business."
"You don't understand," Klaus pulled away slightly. His friend pushed out his lips frustrated, "That little spitfire up there is a very terrible, powerful little bint. More than once she's-"
"Sssh!" Marcel shushed him just as a slow beat pounded from the stage.
Behind the witch, a vampire tapped his drum sticks together. Another stood at her side, fingers strumming a vintage guitar. Strings vibrated over the packed club just as the drum tapped. Delicate hands wrapped around the microphone just as her hips, wide and seductive, began swaying in rotation to the music. Marcel chuckled in an excitement only shared by little children during Christmas, "Look at that little minx, Nik. Feast your eyes on perfection, home grown in this little bayou."
ONLY SHE WASN'T.
GOD, he wanted to throw this revelation in Marcel's smug face but the sound of the little witch's voice commanded his undivided attention. Golden eyes flicked to blue and back as he finally took in the sight of her. She was sultry, sparkling in a fitted red gown. Crimson material reminiscent of blood forced blue irises into a deep humming gold. Hunger, blood lust... a deep yearning in need of being sated suddenly began plaguing him. Pupils dilated upon trailing the slope of her curves.
"I've seen the world, done it all." Soft rasps stroked the crowd into a stunning silence. Its beautiful and quiet but heartfelt. "Had my cake now... diamonds, billionaires now-"
Swollen cleavage was mouthwatering and poised for the sweetest kisses. The dress clung to her bosom even as she took a breath. Her chest heaved and he stared at a waist so small his arms would have to tighten around her frame just to be close. Gravity crashed into him - HARD. The hybrid found himself returning to his seat. For a moment Klaus felt under dressed. Every about her was glamorous and he was adorning fitted jeans and a leather jacket. Even his thin sweater was a bit tethered under inspection.
Never had he cared before but if her were to confront her...
The sight of her in elegance would forever be engrained in his psyche.
"She's yours?" Klaus leaned across the stool towards his comrade. The witches insisted he play nice and get in good with Marcel, thus he found himself asking instead of taking. Dark voice hissed, "would you be terribly offended if I were to have a little chit chat with this little spell caster. My fangs are itching to get reacquainted with her."
Dark lashes fluttered and the male draped an arm over his sire, "Niklaus, Niklaus... is chit-chat what they are calling it now a days." A chuckle followed, "Haha, you can chit, you can chat, bite - hell you can fuck her if you like. Just no killing. She's a very sweet little thing, ya know. Very pure, untouched except by me but as my sire - whats mine is yours. But I do like my toys to come back in one piece. Never done any wrong by me. So, she is under my protection you understand?"
Couldn't kill her if I wanted to.
"Indeed."
"In fact, I'll make sure she knows to be very compliant with you."
It was the devilish grin that accompanied the statement that assured Klaus that Bonnie Bennett was up to 'no good'. There was no way the little hell-raiser of Mystic Falls would ever be subservient to a vampire unless for some trickery. Trickery that would no doubt bring about the death of Marcel and all undead beings including himself. Although he should inform Marcel of the witch's power and treachery, laughing in the King's face would be even more worthy.
Flaxen brows rose in morbid curiosity - what was that damn Bennett witch up to.
Klaus watched the blonde witch enchanted the crowd with heavenly accapella.
"WILL YOU STILL LOVE ME," questions flowed into the melody, "WHEN I'M NO LONGER YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL?"
The twist in her voice was like caressing hands, molding the undead into putty. Vampires cooed in love with the beautiful witch. In the spot light her eyes twinkled. Beautiful pouted lips parted and moans released were addictive. It stirred the dancing vampires into a frenzy. Sexual, kisses began to spread through the club. Hips found hips and a slow grind started. Marcel abandoned post, bringing a youthful vampire of 200 towards his lap in a sweet dance.
Her voice pulled a drizzying stillness over the ancient vampire. Heavy lids closed and the beast in him calmed to a silent tamed wolf. Arms relaxed against his chest, crossing for comfort. Golden curls tossed back in a rested position. Nothing but the soothing sound of her voice filled his mind. Why had he never paid any attention to the little witch before. Why oh why hadn't he given that sweet little untamed witch his devotion and loyalty? Had he, Klaus might have built in south Virgina what Marcel built in Louisiana.
The Witch and the Hybrid, they could have reigned together.
"Mademoiselle Bennett waiting for you in the dressing room." A lesser vampire interrupted his solitude with a nonthreatening scowl. All of them hated him - they should love him. Not Marcel. Speaking of, Klaus' gaze roamed the club. Marcel had disappeared to Lord only knows where. The witch had left the stage almost ten minutes ago and the jazz club was back in full effect. More drinking, smoking of cigars and spoken word poetry. The blonde hybrid stood hen the foot solider insisted.
"Follow me." The male didn't bother to wait for his elder to step in line behind him. Instead he started through the crowd of vampires. None of whom respected the Original even knowing what he was capable of. Klaus reminded himself that after Marcel was forced to concede the throne, he'd make him a General and insist he make the vampires obey - or else. "Marcel also says he hopes you appreciate this gift as a sign of loyalty and friendship."
Klaus fell in line behind, not answering the ridiculous notion.
Pass the party-goers, through a corridor and into a small hallway, Klaus found himself slightly fearful. This could end one of three way, dead witch, a dead hybrid or the witch would go along with whatever plan to free her fellow witches from slavery. Each step ushered the hybrid towards fate. The lesser vampire led him past several doors on either side of the hallway. A restroom sign on two, a few storage areas, the last door on the right - dressing room.
"Enjoy."
It was the last thing he heard before the newborn vanished in pain sight.
"Come in, Monsieur."
What happened next was a bit of a blur - at least he moved as a blur. Something in his mind insisted the witch was out to get him. Blow his cover. So when he burst through the door, Klaus had every intention of strangling her to death. Vampire speed forced the temperature to a frozen chill as he bomb rushed the little witch. Klaus could barely make out the light traced vanity, a large rack of colorful costumes lining the left wall. Large boots kicked high heels from his path only to snatch the little witch by her throat.
"Grrr!" A stiff growl echoed, both hands clamping around her neck. The witch made a surprise yelp, "AaHHH!" but the Original didn't give a damn. Evil veins drained to his eyes quicker than her gasping breaths. Thin hands flung up to his hands in desperation. The Bennett girl squeaked to Klaus' booming tenor; "Did you think I'd let you come here and destroy me you little imprudent wench. I'm going to break your bloody bones before I turn you over to Marcel in pieces."
"Na-na-no!" Strained cries questioned; "What, what are, are yahhha, doing?"
Without reserve, the dark prince swung her over onto the wall, BAM. Sharp shoulder blades crashed into the rooms brick wall causing her to gasp. Sound was lost with involuntarily parting of her lips to him. Both hands slid down his choking grip, nails scratching to no avail. Limply, her body arched towards his towering form. Full breast jutted out towards his visual, capturing finally his attention. Hard, solid nipples heaved up and down in his vision. All the while, his grip tightened around her neck vindictively.
Why the hell was she naked?
"I'm going to kill you, what do you think you ignorant child!"
Certainly didn't look like a child.
Those once green eyes flickering into a pale grey hue. And the witch's lips - pink and inviting - were tasty and trembling for him. Since their initial meeting in Mystic Falls; Klaus wanted to touch her, break her, tear her to shreds then feed her to a lion. Yet, she'd fought him and now she stood naked under his gaze. Naked, with innocent eyes unlike the terrorizing bitch of Mystic Falls... CLICK! A switch flicked on on his head - this was not his Bennett.
Who was this bitch with his witch's face?
"Bonnie Bennett?" Harsh fingers dug against her trachea. There was no aneurysm or fight in this witch. She stared at him, tears bubbling in her eyes. A purple tint spread from her eyes sockets slowly. Struggling, gasping, hands slowed in their fight to free from his choke-hold. Instead she began to sag against the wall, Klaus shook her body with his grip. The little witch bounced in his hands - "WAKE UP! You are Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls?"
"No," timidness rose against her raspy alto. At her response, his grip loosened. "I'm Bonnie Bennett of the French Quarter."
"Another Doppelganger!?" Candid speech enticed the little witch. "I'm no doppelganger and you best not speak of magical things in Monsieur Marcel's club. Good way to get killed."
He felt himself sneer before it could be contained. "I don't bow down to anyone pet." His eyes roamed her body before settling on her face. A look of shock outlined soft features. Her arms fell away from his gripping hands. "You are going to get yourself killed. If Marcel even suspects mutiny there will be retribution, you savvy?"
Why would she care if Marcel killed him. She was a witch, granted not one that sided with his new alliance, but she knew things. Knew he was a hybrid of course. This little doppelganger or whatever she was would serve a purpose he was sure. Nature had a way of working its way to their side. Whatever was going on Klaus was certain it was best to play along with this little game. The blonde Bonnie sighed and he could feel her beginning to relax against his clutching grip.
"I'm not mutinous." Too late to control that impulse. The witch was not impressed, "Tsk, Monsieur just kiss me. Do whatever you have been sent here to do or we will both end up dead. Marcel, he is not to be trifled with. If you refuse his gift, refuse me.." She stared at him, "He will know that you are not loyal."
Why would anyone allow themselves to be used in such a way? This Bonnie Bennett was no fool. Obviously she wanted her freedom a lot like her kin but at what price. To be his whore? Klaus was a sinister man, knew he would probably have treated her the same or worse... but he was not the King. Which meant he could kindly judge things even if he were the father of every sin he scrutinized.
"Why do you allow him to give you to others?"
"You are the only one ever," Green irises released several tears. "And I have my own reasons. He'll check me, ya know... for signs, marks. So leave your mark on me. I don't want to be responsible for your death-"
Rich coming from the face of his serial attempted murderous.
Yet it felt genuine; this version of Bonnie was kind, sultry, sexy and too forgiving.
A docile Bonnie Bennett, made him want to do very elicit things to her. Tousled blonde locks dove towards her beautiful face. He captured her top lip within his mouth and she moaned. Commandingly, he squeezed her neck. Sharp pain shot down the length of her throat. It was stunning, forcing Bonnie to cry out. "Ah!" Klaus captured her cry between his teeth. There was no fighting the urgency of his tongue into her sweet mouth. The flavor of cinnamon exploded against strong taste buds as he explored beyond her lips.
It was both breathtaking and deadly - wanting to tame such a wild bint. Feeling her pulse beating just under her skin, thump, thump. Palpitations increased with his kissable attack. Klaus invaded her mouth with powerful yearning, slightly protuding fangs biting and nibbling her lips hard. Swelling flesh sliced when he bore down against the taste of sugar cinnamon. So sweet, a crimson filling released from the broken skin onto his tongue.
Witch blood! So fucking delicious.
"Insatiable!" a deep throat grunt before returning a much more carnal kiss. Klaus ran the warm organ over the bite with care, fueling a growing passion inside of his companion.
Blonde Bonnie twisted against him until a feverish heat covered her body. Her sugary tongue massaged the walls of his mouth with rapid strokes. The tiny witch moved erratic, almost trembling. The Original Hybrid removed his hands from her throat, trailing them down her curves. Her breast were soft along the slope. both curious hands came to pinch her exposed nipples roughly.
Thumb and index fingers squeezed the Hersey kisses. Rolled the beaded nubs before pulling, releasing then pulling again. The dark beauty wrenched her mouth away. Her top lip brushed his five o'clock shadow even as she moaned in pleasure. "Mmmmh, bite me... bite, every, everywhere."
"Do you love, Marcel?" Icy tenor ignored questioned. He'd seduced many witches but never was he forced into an affair. The menace him couldn't help but love taking an innocent little witch by force. A bonus was if Marcel did love her, she would be leverage - Good, sweet leverage. "Does he love you?"
"Marcel only love vampires." There was a sadness he couldn't comprehend or perhaps his loneliness could. "Now stop talking, please."
Chasing her lips, Klaus roughly drew them into another kiss. After a final squeeze of her breasts, both hands travel to her ass. Masculine hips forced their way between her thighs. Using the outer portion of his hands, Klaus palmed her cheeks. Nerves tingled where his hands hovered until fingers dug into her flesh. Biceps bulked as he drew her up hard against his middle.
Reflexively her legs wrapped around his waist.
...
It had been one week since Marcel's gift.
One week, two hours and 34 minutes to be exact. He knew because he couldn't stop thinking of the day or counting the moments until they ruined to the jazz club to see the witch again. There was no love, not even an ounce but the little doppelganger had been intoxicating: tasted pure and was even more skilled in an intimate situation. The fact that she carried his enemy's face only managed to intrigue him more.
In fact, after leaving the witch he'd requested his brother Elijah to "Find out what going on with Miss Bonnie Bennett in Mystic Falls." Which earned the most poetic and proper "Fuck you, Niklaus." Though he was certain his brother would investigate. Elijah would always be the proper big brother and supportive. It was his nature. However, Elijah had only been gone two days to do just that when Klaus began to become frustrated.
Pretending to be subservient to Marcel was driving him mental. Almost every night there was meeting in some sewer dwelling where rats ran rapid. They'd all sit on poorly decorated furniture and listen to one solider after another give statistics on witch activity, human growth and vampire rations. Klaus almost had enough until Marcel stood before the group. In his hands were the scrolls of the Elders of the Bayou.
They were a group of Voodoo priest with a penchant for dark spirits rather than helping others as their religion called for. The tall dark skinned vampire paced the seated vampires extremely agitated. His usually couth beard was unshaven, a little long and slightly scruffy. Both eyes were incredibly droopy, tired... maybe his little witch was keeping him awake all night. Another reason to be jealous - KLAUS HATED HIM.
"We got another little problem growing here." Marcel halted in front of his sire. He handed the male the scroll. "Whatacha you think, Nik? Do you suppose we need to go on little witch hunt?"
The hybrid unrolled the scroll, his eyes wondered the finely written parchment intensely.
And a daughter shall be born unto the world; of man and of Abaddon on the shores of yore. Where the bayou meets with the climax of drums and the creole dance with the devil. Upon which glory and power shall fester and grow, and drench the soul with love and prosperity as well as death and defeat. All with whom oppose her shall face her wrath on crumbled knees. For she is not just a queen...
She is the Once and Future Queen.
...
When I get to Heaven; please you let me bring my man. When he comes,
tell me that you'll let him; FATHER tell me if you can:
oh that grace; oh that body,
oh that face
Finish... no? yes? don't care... ha-ha let me know.
Music by Lana Del Rey from The Great Gatsby soundtrack... love this song. Merlin Inspired a bit, lol.