I do not own Vampire Diaries, The Originals, or any characters therein. I also do not own New Orleans, though I do highly recommend the cuisine.
She was only visiting to sight-see. That was all. Seriously. No other reason.
Caroline mentally repeated this mantra as she dragged her luggage into the gated apartment community. Just a visit. Furnished apartments were a better deal than the local hotels, and they afforded much more privacy. This way, she lacked for nothing and only had to bring the essentials: her car, casual clothes, party dresses, clubbing dresses, sneakers, pumps, leggings, jewelry, hair dryer, hair straightener, hair spray, dry shampoo, curling iron, stiff brush, soft brush, comb, pajamas… just the basics any girl would need.
Her basics took the better part of the night to unpack. Thus far, Caroline had allowed the air conditioner to keep her cool, but it was nearing midnight. Muffled noises from the streets caught her attention; reminded her of a need for fresh air.
First she showered, pleased to wash the muggy sweat that seemed to cling from the streets. Once she stepped into her most comfortable pajamas—cotton pink shorts and a worn white tee she'd had since her freshman year—Caroline opened the windows of her bed- and living room.
She was not disappointed.
Steady thrums of tuba and drums underscored the boisterous harmonic blasts of trumpets, clarinets, and a trombone. Caroline could see the band from her bedroom window, and she couldn't help but admire the deft redhead's fingers as they danced across his well-loved clarinet. Oh, the perks of keen vampire sight; the player's expression was blissful, and not a single one of his bandmates lacked for passion, either.
While the band was certainly the jazzy highlight of entertainment, the throng of locals milling about were quite colorful in their own manner. Caroline was struck with how vastly different the pub crawl fashion was here. Especially compared to Virginia. Women decked themselves with tassels of all colors of the rainbow; some simultaneously. Jewels both faux and true glittered with each subtle turn or flick of the wrist. Several men went shirtless, even the far less fit. The old lamplights didn't offer to conceal any flaws, though added unique tone to the atmosphere.
"Well, that was more back hair than I ever thought I'd see," she muttered.
The bare flesh and cacophony of rapid, drunken pulses awoke her thirst. Caroline left for the hidden sanctity of her tiny kitchen. It was a wonder finding any room with semblance of privacy in the city, but her usual persistence had, as always, paid off handsomely.
Just as she'd hoped, wine glasses were included with the furnishings. She washed the dust out of one, pulled a blood bag from the refrigerator, and filled her glass.
Delightful as treating the bags as a Capri Sun could be, it somehow didn't suit this city lifestyle.
Not that it was a permanent arrangement.
She was just visiting.
Tantalizing as the party life was for her, Caroline was intent on rest tonight. Even a no-nonsense vampire—her, obviously—needed sleep after a 16-hour road trip. Besides, by the time she would be dressed, primped, and clacking her way down to the streets, any good party would be past the peak point and well into a mess of drama and vomit.
Ew.
She paused to close the living room window. After a moment's consideration, Caroline drew the curtains as well.
But by the time she reached her new—temporary—room, the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Something wasn't right. It freaking figured. Since her turn to vampire a decade ago, two things had never changed: her stunning seventeen year-old good looks (thank goodness she'd been fortunate enough to look mature for her age, something that could never bite her in the ass with age now) and her propensity for attracting danger.
Must be a vampire thing, she thought with annoyance. Honestly, there were downsides to eternal life. Something she wished Katherine had explained to her before smothering her with a sterile hospital pillow.
Either way, she was on her guard. So when she turned to look back into her living room, it didn't surprise her to find a man standing in her living room. Smiling. Hands clasped before him. Waiting.
"Excuse you," she said, tipping the wine glass to her mouth. "I didn't ask for company."
The man chuckled softly, glancing around her place as he strode toward her. His manner was deceivingly calm. Sensing coiled energy within him, Caroline did her best to plant her feet and show nothing more than an expectant eyebrow raise.
"Funny thing about apartments," the man said. His voice was smooth, polished with a friendliness that put her both at ease and on edge. "Tenants don't own the space, no matter what lease they sign. Landlords are easy to compel. But, if you weren't a baby vampire, you'd know that, I'm sure."
Caroline wasn't about to admit her lack of experience. Even if the tidbit about apartments made perfect sense. "Obviously it wouldn't have mattered," she said in her best condescending voice. "As we vampires can't own a home or space anyway."
"Very true," he conceded. "It's just an interesting choice, is all."
She tipped her chin up a bit. "I'm just visiting for a little while. No need to make a fuss."
"Ahhh." The man drew out his acknowledgement far longer than necessary. "See, I wish it were that simple. But it's not." He took no issue with invading her personal space, going so far as to take the glass from her hand and sip. Caroline scrunched her nose in disgust.
To her pleasure, he mimicked the expression. "Old blood," he tsked. "Not nearly as good as from the vein."
She flashed him a patronizing smile. "I prefer to exert some self-control. It's a thing. You can Google it."
"No need." To her ire, he upturned the glass onto her carpet. The landowner's carpet, she corrected herself.
"Are you insane?" she demanded. "Do you know how long it takes to get blood stains out?"
He smiled again. Unnervingly, even when his mouth didn't curve, his eyes always seemed to smile. This man was certainly disarming. "Just compel your fee back when you leave."
That was telling. "So I'm free to stay, despite your rude intrusion."
He shrugged and took a step back. "That's not up to me." His dark eyes raked over her, assessing her stance, her body language. "I'm just the messenger."
Her heart throbbed. Caroline slapped away the pictures in her head. Even so, her conscious mind betrayed her, gleefully filtering memories past her attempts to block. Images of a cocky smirk and the sound of intense words that spilled from that sensual mouth. She suppressed a shudder.
Her uninvited guest seemed to notice. If anything, he was pleased by her reaction, apparently mistaking it for fear. "Everyone has to meet the King. You're not being singled out, baby vamp."
"Oh, lucky me," she muttered. The King? she inwardly shrieked. What exactly had been going on in this city? She knew he'd come down here, but not once had he divulged his plans. And yet… the King. How easily she could see him crowning himself. He'd been arrogant enough from day one; she imagined he always had been.
Rather than give voice to her thoughts, Caroline flipped her hair over her shoulder and held out her hand. Amazingly, the intruder just handed the glass back. Apparently he wasn't completely hell-bent on destroying property.
"So when do I have to meet this king?" she asked dryly.
The man shook his head, slowly retreating toward the door. "Soon," he promised. "If you're still around in a couple days, I'll bring him to you."
"I planned to sight-see," she said bluntly. "That's why I'm here, you know. It's a vacation."
He glanced around, taking careful note of the open, half-full walk-in closet and her styling accoutrements on the dresser. "An extended stay, from the looks of it." He flashed that deadly charming smile again. "I won't keep you up. But I hope I am the first to say…" He spread his hands on either side of him. Caroline immediately zeroed in on the stake he seemed to produce out of nowhere—probably that damned jacket. Who wore a jacket on a muggy night like this?
Just as the thought finished its race across her mind, the man threw the weapon at her with deadly accuracy. Not wanting to chance catching it a moment too late in such close proximity, Caroline darted to the left. The stake hit the wall, sinking into the plaster.
Are you kidding me? she raged inwardly.
"Welcome to New Orleans."
When she turned, the man was gone and she was alone again.
A/N: Just as a note, it has been a long, LONG time since I've seriously taken on a multi-chapter fanfic (the latest Klaroline smut adventure not included-I honestly don't know why it won't stop writing itself). The chapters for this will be short, and released as my hectic schedule allows. I don't know precisely how long this will be, but I don't intend for it to get more than 10 chapters at the very, very most. Also, I positively thrive on constructive criticism. If my characters seem off, if my grammar is atrocious, or even if I've just plain made a spelling error, I encourage you to let me know.