A/N: Apologies for any grammar or spelling.
Night of the Hunter
He'd been in Cape Town for over a month if the local news reports were to be believed.
Twenty-five dead.
Along with scores more in various and sundry cities around the globe, but no matter…
Local law enforcement was at a loss. The dead had all been discovered randomly; no rhyme or reason to their misfortune. Nothing to link them by race, gender, age or any other definitive trait. A testament to how truly non-discriminative nature of death.
The city danced on edge as a result. Mortals determined to go about their daily lives; unwilling to yield their freedom to whatever went bump in the night. Yet still they feared the demon they'd aptly dubbed:
Bliss
He'd accumulated a wealth of empty monikers over the centuries, but he genuinely laughed at this newest one. An irony writ large as each victim was found naked; their faces frozen in the throes of passion.
Their hearts torn from their chests.
The speed and strength it takes to accomplish this cannot be overstated. To seize an actual moment and hold it in your bloody fist; triumphantly caught like the ever-evasive fly.
It was good sport, considering. And it also laid bare a simple truth whispered amongst all who heard of the victims:
At least they died happy.
What more could be asked for…or provided?
Chosen by whatever random detail caught his fancy on any given night, these fortunate souls were gifted with permanent possession of something never meant to be kept. To be brought to the height of their pleasure, the height of their joy; and yet rather than feel that slight shifting of balance that foretells the steep drop back down to the concrete of reality, they remain forever frozen at the pinnacle. Never to have euphoria dampened by sobriety. Never to feel it wear off and fade away, leaving behind whatever disaster you'd been in the first place.
The pumpkin forever the carriage.
When you looked at it that way…he was doing them a favor. A kindness never to be repaid.
It was with that philanthropic spirit that he found himself entering a club and seeking out the bar.
As always on a balmy night like this, the area teemed with bodies; prodded into motion by the deep and steady beat of the music that surrounded them.
Klaus settled in at the bar and ordered a drink; allowing his senses to take the first of what would be many strolls among the living all in search of that one…
He caught a scent in the air. Not the common vintage of humanity or the freshly turned grave scent that came with a vampire. No, this particular aroma spoke of a singular flavor on the tongue.
Magic.
He sharpened his senses to a fine point; slicing them through the sea of bodies until they found...her.
She was near the center of the dancefloor and doing absolutely nothing to conceal her identity.
Bonnie Bennett.
It had been quite a few years since anyone had proven able to surprise him. Ironically enough, the one responsible for the most life-threatening of those surprises currently had her head thrown back and her eyes closed as she danced with an abandoned she seemed incapable of as a teenager.
The former baby witch had spent a great deal of time surprising him during his months in Mystic Falls. Whether she was faking her death, unleashing the power of 100 witches, desiccating him or transferring his essence into Tyler Lockwood, the witch had a nasty little habit of rising to whatever occasion presented itself.
None of which explained what the hell she was doing here.
His eyes followed her as she danced. She'd been such an uptight little thing back then, a rare departure from the vibrancy that seemed indicative of her bloodline. Yes, Bennett witches could be a self-righteous and judgmental lot, but it never overshadowed their ability to revel in the power they wielded with such ease.
However, Bonnie had been as timid as a church mouse; with concern for her loved ones being the only thing able to bring forth the tigress that should have been the sigil for the Bennett line.
He saw her now, wearing a rose gold scrap of sequined fabric laughingly referred to as a dress that made her skin glow; the rolling of her hips caused it to rise steadily higher on bare supple thighs. Paired with the hypnotic shifting of full breasts barely hidden from a plunging neckline, she created a picture that was nothing short of tempting.
He followed her every movement as he waited for the moment she would detect him. Content to be patient and observe rather than force the issue.
A bead of sweat formed and glided along her collarbone and cause the thought of catching it with his tongue to drift in like the faintest of breezes.
When green feline eyes finally landed on him and slightly widened in recognition, he was behind her a moment later; a large palm pressed to her stomach, trapping her against him.
He felt her body tense as her magic flared instantly, stinging every portion of his body that touched hers.
"Easy, little witch," his voice rumbled near her ear. "I come in peace."
"I seriously doubt that," Bonnie muttered.
What the fuck was Klaus Mikaelson doing here?
It had been over two years since she vanquished hellfire and hightailed it out of Mystic Falls. And her reward was the relief of having friends call to say hello rather than demanding she return to deal with a crisis of their making.
She should have known it wouldn't last forever.
Didn't matter, though. The answer was no to whatever the hybrid wanted. And if he refused to take no for an answer, she'd be more than happy to make herself clear.
It was then that her mind registered the fact that his body had caught the rhythm of her own; that his grip on her mid-section had softened into something resembling a caress.
"Well, you're welcome to cause a scene and find out," he went on. "Although I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that you are currently outnumbered by both vampires and innocent bystanders." He'd spotted at least ten of the former upon his arrival.
"You know I won't let you or them hurt anyone."
"I know you'll try, Klaus answered smoothly before spinning her out and away from him; his hold on her fingertips her only tether. A gentle tug and he had her clearing the distance between them until her body was flush against his. The hybrid's arm returned to her waist as moved; compelling her reluctant feet to keep up with the tempo he'd set.
"Clearly we're both a long way from home," he said, his head bent low enough for blond curls to brush her forehead. "What's a dance between the barely tolerable?"
"A prologue to something worse," Bonnie responded, dryly. He moved well. Too well, really. Well enough that if she wasn't careful, she could almost forget that there was an over 1,000 year old life-ruining monster wrapped around her.
Almost.
She allowed herself to be twirled about before his hands settled hers at the back of his neck; his fingertips gliding down the length of her arm before returning to her hips.
Midnight blue eyes dared her to widen the space between them.
"Or," he countered. "The first step in a newfound civility between old…enemies."
It was the last part that pricked her ears. Enemies. It wasn't just a statement of fact. The word came wrapped in a tone that could almost be mistaken for respect.
How many had Klaus Mikaelson called enemy over the centuries? How many still lived? She'd unknowingly earned admittance into a very exclusive club. One whose members had either foiled or survived the hybrid.
She had done both. More than once.
The last time she'd been this close to him, they'd been separated by a barrier spell. If looks could kill she'd have been dead on the spot. But it had been kind of thrilling; imposing your will on the powerful. To be oh so very close to danger and yet completely unmoved. More than confident that she could protect herself and her friends from his rage...from anyone's rage. She was in control.
In all honesty, back then it was probably just the Expression talking.
But now…that very same thrill was back. And left unchecked by an impending crisis, it was beginning to settle into her bones as she moved even closer, allowing her arms to drape across his back as they danced.
Klaus smirked as she followed his lead. The presence of the Bennett witch piqued his curiosity and if she'd failed to rise to the challenge, he'd have been disappointed. Someone incapable of enjoying the privilege that came with their power even in the face of danger could be nothing short of a disappointment. And as he recalled it, her witless devotion to her friends had all but doomed her to be just that.
Fortunately, it appeared the littlest Bennett had been a bit of a late bloomer.
Splendid.
He dipped his head to the witch's ear; his nose tracing the curve of her shoulder before his hands tightened on her upper arms, halting her steps.
"Have a drink with me."
It wasn't a request.
#
With the pull of the dancefloor behind them, Bonnie sat in the booth Klaus ordered and studied the hybrid.
He looked no different, naturally. Same blonde hair, same dimples, same arrogant smirk. The eyes were different though. They seemed older and not so full of mocking as they'd once been. And considering what Caroline had told her, she had a pretty good idea why.
She knew of his daughter's entanglement with the Hollow and the subsequent scattering of the Mikaelsons of the winds. And now the baby witch was a student at the school for the young and gifted that Caroline ran with Alaric and Jeremy. It was all very X-Men-like and thankfully had nothing to do with her.
"What are you doing here, Klaus?" Bonnie asked finally.
"I believe I should be the one asking that question," he replied before ordering a bottle.
It was odd the way she sat there with her arms folded lightly on the table between them. Gone was the bundle of righteously indignant nerves he remembered. Gone were the eyes that always seemed to be looking for the emergency exit. What remained sat with flushed skin and eyes alight. She appeared relaxed in her stillness, but by no means serene if the smirk on that delightfully crooked mouth told the tale.
"I've been studying abroad," she said mildly, watching as he poured her a drink.
Klaus snorted, "And here I thought you'd never make it out of Mystic Falls alive."
"That makes two of us," she answered wryly.
"How did you manage it?"
"Well…" Bonnie began, swirling the ice cubes in her glass. "When the three people most directly responsible for the supernatural bullshit in Mystic Falls are now either human or dead….it tends to clear up a lot of space in the old calendar."
"I would imagine so," Klaus replied. "But for what it's worth, I was sorry to hear of Stefan's death."
He stopped at the unreadable expression on the witch's face and quirked an eyebrow. "Although it appears that you aren't?"
Bonnie smiled ruefully, "Stefan was my friend. But he also killed the man I loved before trying to kill me. So you'll excuse me if my feelings about his death are still…conflicted."
It was the only explanation she could give him. Even if he didn't deserve one. To think of Stefan was to think of Enzo and to think of him was to think of what could have been. To think of what could have been was to think of all that she'd lost. A review of that inevitably led to a review of Caroline and Elena.
They'd all lost a great deal in their own ways. Yet at the end of the most terror-filled period of their lives, Elena had Damon and hospital residencies and Save-the-Date cards. And while Caroline lost Stefan, she still had her girls and the school to show for it. Whereas Bonnie had been left with the only thing that seemed to make her of value to any of them for so many years:
Her magic.
See? Complicated.
"Again…" Klaus said, drawing her from her reverie. "I would imagine so."
"I heard about everything that went down with your daughter," Bonnie offered without preamble.
"I hope you're not planning to bore me with your sympathies," Klaus answered dryly.
"Pfft! No." Bonnie scoffed.
The hybrid's eyes hardened briefly in response. "Of course not," Klaus said tightly. "After everything, why would I expect you to muster up an ounce of sympathy for me?"
"Now wait a minute," Bonnie countered. "You can be pissy about sympathy or you can be pissy about the lack of it. But you don't get to be pissy about both."
"I. Am not. Pissy."
"If you say so," Bonnie replied, taking a sip of her drink as she watched him decide whether or not to be offended.
"Look," she went on. "The shit you and your family put me through is so far in my rearview mirror that I don't care enough about you or them to either offer sympathy or to celebrate."
"Have you always been this frank?" Klaus asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"No. But I think I've earned the right to be." Bonnie answered as she scooted around the cushions to sit closer to him. Close enough that their heads bowed towards one another conspiratorially.
"You've had your family torn away from you by forces beyond your control," she continued. "And as much as you hate being manipulated, you still abide because to do so keeps them alive even if you can't be with them." She reached for her glass and studied its contents. It was a scenario she'd lived and relived more times than she'd like to remember.
"That is a shitty situation, Klaus. Welcome to the club. We have cookies."
The witch's eyes found his and held them as the rather black comedy of their lives came into focus.
She wasn't sure who burst into laughter first, but the deep rumble of his warmed her blood in a way the bourbon hadn't managed as he clinked his glass with hers.
"You know, Bonnie…if you're not careful, I may begin to like you," Klaus said, smirking as the witch's eyes widened in horror.
"Perish the thought," she gasped, earning a chuckle from the hybrid.
"Just keep focusing on the bright side," Bonnie advised. "Your daughter is safe and she's receiving the very best magical education money can buy from witches I've never heard of."
Klaus draped his arm behind her. "You still haven't explained why you're here instead of there. Shouldn't you be working at the school? Developing young magical minds with your knowledge and experience?"
"It's not like Caroline didn't ask me," Bonnie replied. "I just didn't actually know a whole lot about magic. I mean I knew how to survive…but that's not really the same thing, is it? Hell, I needed to be in school myself."
"Hence, your studying abroad," Klaus concluded.
"Yep. I left Mystic Falls and I've been here ever since—not here as in Cape Town. Here as in Africa."
"Naturally," Klaus nodded. "Considering there isn't a square inch of the continent that isn't infused with some sort of magic, one should make this their first stop on the road to discovery," he said before ordering another round of drinks.
"You know they say," he went on. "That like humanity, the supernatural world evolved from here as well."
"They do say that," Bonnie nodded slowly. The time she'd spent traveling the continent had been a revelation and she had only barely scratched the surface. The witches in the handful of countries she'd lived were very different from those she'd encountered in the U.S. They weren't any more or less powerful, but they certainly seemed more present. Being a witch wasn't treated as an unfortunate lot in life or as a noble burden. It wasn't a job, it was simply who and what they were. Magical traditions that fell by the wayside over the centuries everywhere else, still thrived here. Agency blossomed here while it seemed forever crushed under the boot of vampires everywhere else.
And no matter where she went she went, she gave herself over to being taught and in exchange she did odd jobs both magical and mundane to earn her keep. It wasn't always pretty, and there wasn't always time to dance the night away, but the independence that came with her experiences was invaluable.
Klaus studied the witch closely, a question beginning to form in his mind. He knew enough about the witch's magical history to know that one such has she could quite possibly be on the brink of a momentous opportunity.
"They also say that the source of all magic exists somewhere here as well," he continued. "And that the means for locating it rests within only a handful of bloodlines, most of which have already died off." He watched as Bonnie nodded sagely into her drink.
"They say a lot of things, don't they?" Bonnie sighed.
"Indeed, they do," he agreed, his eyes searched for any clue that she had either gone and done what others had not, or was endeavoring to do so. Was this not the same witch that had once held the power of 100 witches and later the power of an Expression Triangle?
Klaus placed a finger beneath the Bonnie's chin, tilting her head up until her eyes found his. They were a verdant alchemy of mystery, mischief and malice. Had they always been such?
"Tell me...have you been to The Well, little witch?" The question was asked softly as his knuckles lazily traced the curve of her jawline.
"Do you really think I'd tell you one way or the other?" Bonnie asked, her eyes mocking him.
Klaus smiled in reply. He was enjoying this. He hadn't enjoyed anything since fleeing New Orleans; his days filled with one distraction or another. Never sleeping, never resting. His kills, despite the fear they instilled in others, were a fleeting satisfaction. A temporary diversion that rang hollow shortly after when his mind would begin to rage; demanding that he think of something…anything to bring them all back. But how could he think of anything when the weight of what he'd lost sent all thoughts flying apart like leaves in a strong wind?
However, this…this dance had moved from the floor to this booth; aided not by music, but by their mutual awareness of what they were both capable of and willing to do. To the outside observer they appeared as a man and a woman intimately sharing drinks rather than two serpents who'd somehow managed to charm one another.
"I suppose it doesn't matter," he said, finally. "My daughter is already destined to be the most powerful witch that ever lived."
"If you say so…" Bonnie muttered, chuckling into her drink.
"You disagree?" Klaus asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"It's not a matter of agreeing or disagreeing on something so subjective," Bonnie answered as she leaned into him.
"For instance: If you'd asked me at sixteen what was the most frightening thing ever, I'd have said Damon Salvatore, hands down. Ask me a year later and I'd have said Klaus Mikaelson. And after that, Silas and after that the fires of hell….Do you see where I'm going with this?"
"I believe I'm offended that my name came and went so quickly on your list," the hybrid snorted.
"Sorry," Bonnie offered. "But I've brought you to your knees too many times for all that." Her eyes sparkled with memory; revealing the hidden bit of pleasure she'd received from unleashing her power on him and his cock stirred in response.
"And now? What's most frightening to you now, little witch?"
Bonnie considered the question and marveled at the only answer that came to the fore.
"Me," she replied, her eyes unwavering.
Her answer was so matter-of-fact and guileless that what once merely stirred, hardened immediately and forced his grip on his drink to tighten involuntarily.
He knew that look in the witch's eyes. Knew the feeling behind it. He'd spent a millennium cultivating it within himself. One thousand years of taking what he wanted once he'd learned how. One thousand years of searching the world for a way to break his curse. One thousand years of teaching the world to fear his name. His name. Not some pithy moniker given to a boogey man.
Klaus Mikaelson.
What the fuck happened to him?
How could one who'd once made the world tremble at the mere mention of his name have been brought so low that his only recourse was to take his ire out on those least deserving of it rather than focusing on those most deserving? How had he been held so easily in check by a dead witch with a two-bit cult when he'd bathed cities in their own blood for lesser offenses? Why were there not covens of witches in his employ searching tirelessly for a way to break the Hollow's hold on his daughter? Why hadn't legions been sent out to round up every single one of that demon's followers for him to bend and twist until they broke? He'd summoned that and more in search of that bloody moonstone. So where was the hybrid that would rip the world to shreds in order to claim what was his?
Where was the monster that Bonnie Bennett once feared?
Bonnie smiled faintly at his silence. "What's going on in that head of yours, hybrid?"
What indeed? In an effort to be a father worthy of Hope, he'd put aside every instinct that had gotten him everything he held dear. He'd been so focused on being the father she deserved instead of the one she needed. And the one she needed would stop at nothing until she's reunited with her family. All of them.
Klaus reached for the witch's hand and dropped a kiss on her knuckles.
"Thank you, Bonnie," he replied.
"For what?" she grinned in confusion.
"For reminding me of something," he answered as his fingertips began to lazily play with hers.
"Are you going to share?" She prodded.
"Perhaps, one day," he said.
"I'm intrigued," Bonnie confessed with a smile.
"As you should be," he replied.
#
He made certain to keep a sufficient amount of distance between them as he followed her. Despite being three blocks ahead of him, she didn't appear to be in a hurry. The vampires that followed her from the club were shadowing her more closely; confident in their roles as pursuers, while he remained the curious observer.
"You know…I'm starting to believe these vampires milling about aren't here for a snack of the human variety," he said.
They'd been drinking and talking for quite some time and the witch was proving herself to be an entertaining conversationalist wrapped in an increasingly distracting package. The more relaxed she became in his presence, the more the layers of her personality revealed themselves. She spoke candidly of her travels while cleverly keeping mum on the more magical aspects of them. In turn he told tales of countries she planned to visit and landmarks she'd likely find of interest.
"Hmm…probably," Bonnie sighed. She'd noticed them when she arrived. It wasn't unheard of for vampires to frequent this place. But by now, they all should have found one hapless mark or another. Instead they remained, their gazes always seeming to land on her.
"Most likely they want something," the hybrid continued.
"Most likely," Bonnie agreed. "But these days, I'm not into having my arm twisted by vampires. Besides, I came here to have a good time. If they want to mess that up, then I'm going to go outside and they'll be responsible for my good time."
"And are you…having a good time?" Klaus asked.
Bonnie took in the picture they must have made. Her feet were tucked underneath her as she sat nestled in the crook of his arm. The heat that emanated from his body made her feel languid and more than once she'd caught herself stealing glances at his lips when he spoke. They were full and always smirking and seemed so soft and she couldn't swat away the thought having them pressed hard against her own. Nor could she ignore his arm around her shoulders and the fingers that lightly grazed her upper arm or the hand that rested on her thigh and the thumb that stroked the skin beneath.
When he spoke, his head dipped low and the scruff of his jaw against her cheek made her palms warm and her throat dry. And whenever their eyes happened to meet, his seemed alight with promises that made her insides feel like liquid gold.
"Shockingly enough…I am," she answered finally before a waiter cleared his throat for their attention."
"Excuse me, Miss," he began, eying Klaus warily. "But the gentleman at the bar would like to buy you a drink," he said, nodding toward a bald vampire in a suit that would have made Elijah proud. He nodded towards her and smiled briefly before turning away.
Bonnie sighed, "Tell him thank you, but I was just leaving."
The waiter lingered uncertainly before he moved off to deliver her response.
"Will you require assistance?" Klaus asked, irritated by the shift in tone that had already begun to take hold as the witch reluctantly lowered her feet to the floor and straightened.
"Nah, I think I'm good," Bonnie assured him. Sure they'd been getting along so far but that didn't mean that she trusted him any farther than she could throw him. And when you're outnumbered, the one at your back needed to be one that you trust.
"Like I said…they owe me a good time."
She'd left his side shortly after and while his mind was already at work on making a list of Hollow-related tasks, he found he wasn't quite ready for his chance encounter with the witch to end.
That and it had been a while since he'd gotten his hands dirty in a fight.
Bonnie continued on towards the outskirts of town; the glow of street lamps lighting her way. It was good that these idiots knew enough to let her put some distance between herself and the club. Klaus had been right; there were too many innocent bystanders.
Klaus.
What the hell had that been back there? They'd danced and talked…and flirted. He'd been funny and charming and…
Nope. Don't go down that road Bonnie. That road had street lamps on it as well and all of them highlighted the fact that if given just a bit more time, she would have found herself fucking Klaus Mikaelson.
What. The. Fuck.
She shook the thought from her mind and refused to indulge the visions of tangled limbs and frantic kisses or the phantom taste of salty skin on her tongue that sprang forth.
When she reached the nearly abandoned outskirts, she slowed to a stop.
The few storefronts that lined the empty street were closed up for the night and a calm breeze rustled the trees. Bonnie calmly surveyed the area as she slowly eased her shoes from her feet, letting the feel of the ground beneath her soles settle her.
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" She called out finally.
Klaus trained his eyes on where Bonnie stopped. She was still well ahead of him when the errant shadows that lined the street began to move as vampires-more than had exited the club—emerged, dotting the horizon of his view. They lingered along the sidewalks and crouched upon rooftops.
The witch seemed…unbothered.
"Ms. Bennett," a voice answered as one of them stepped onto the street to face her, hands raised. "I come in peace."
"You know…that's not the first time an immortal has said that to me tonight and yet somehow I believe it even less coming from you."
"Come now, you can't be too alarmed," he chuckled as he stepped closer. "After all, you did abandon Klaus Mikaelson to lead us here. By the way, do you have any idea how naughty that hybrid's been?
"I can just imagine," Bonnie answered. "Now who are you and what do you want?"
The vampire clasped his hands in front of him. "My name is Ammon and I don't want anything, actually. I've come on behalf of my master."
Bonnie frowned, "You're an errand boy? For who?"
"A gentleman by the name of Adam."
"Well…you can tell Adam that whatever it is, I'm not interested."
"I'm afraid he won't be satisfied with that, Ms. Bennett."
"And I'm afraid I can't muster the strength to care, Ammon. But I can muster it for a few other things…"
"Oh we haven't reached that point yet, have we?" the vampire asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Considering you brought a small army with you? Yes."
"Adam only wants an opportunity to speak with you and offer you a chance to join him in a rather profitable endeavor. One that specifically requires a witch of your…prowess."
"And?"
"And…if we're unable to persuade you to come willingly, we're to bring you in by any means necessary."
Bonnie nodded, ruefully. "Can we just skip to that part and save ourselves the trouble? It's Friday night, this dress is really cute, I've had some really great drinks and I think I almost got laid. So just shoot your shot so I can be on my way."
"Cheeky little thing, that one," Klaus thought, as he listened to the exchange.
Ammon smiled dangerously and unclasped his hands.
"Very well," he said. His hand flashed out a moment later and Bonnie felt the icy cold of metal wrapping around her throat.
"And you're right," he went on. "That dress is quite fetching."
Bonnie slipped a finger into the space between her neck and the collar she now wore; feeling its magic attempting to break its way through her own.
"That," Ammon continued, answering her silent question, "was commissioned by Adam. He knows you're channeling the Bennett line and the collar is designed to cut off a witch's ability to do that. Dull those teeth a little bit."
Bonnie held the metal piece between her thumb and index finger. "This…is very clever," she said finally. "This is also why vampires should stay out of witch business."
Klaus' gaze was suddenly drawn to the street lamps in the witch's immediate area. Each one began to glow more brightly as she spoke."
"You guys just don't get how much words matter. How one word—one verb—can bring a clever plan crashing down."
The iron collar began to vibrate between her fingers as her magic pushed back against it. The vampires nearest to them beginning to more away warily and the glow from the lamps intensified.
"I'm not channeling the Bennett line," she said. "And this…just doesn't go with my outfit."
Ammon watched as the collar, once shiny and black began to rapidly rust and decay; flaking off bit by bit until it finally crumbled to dust before blowing away on an errant breeze.
The light of the street lamps grew to almost blinding before bursting their confines.
Klaus watched as the light rushed towards the witch as pure energy, only to be caught by her outstretched hand. With her hand fully engulfed in it, Bonnie brought her arm down sharply as if spiking a football, and released the energy into the ground where it exploded on impact. A shockwave of light and magic fanned out, sending Ammon and all who came with him flying.
Bonnie took advantage of the distraction and fired off spell after spell, hitting whatever vampires were within reach and sending their hearts exploding from their chests.
Studying abroad, indeed, Klaus mused as he watched the bloody scene unfold with rapt attention. The witch was magnificent. Still clearly outnumbered, she charged forward, fists flying and landing with more impact than they should have been capable of. Her magic pulsed and she sent vampires into the trees, impaling their bodies on thick branches.
She was more than holding her own against them; the tigress finally out and rampaging. But it was a glint of steel followed by her agonized cry that had him moving so fast that he was in the midst of the melee a moment later.
The witch was wounded. Blood flowed freely from a deep gash at her right shoulder blade and caused her arm to hang limply at her side. Ammon stood nearby brandishing a blade that dripped with her blood.
"I have no wish to kill you, Ms. Bennett," he said.
"But I have every intention of killing you," Bonnie gritted out before raising her good arm and splaying her fingers wide, a spell already forming in her mind. She clenched them into a hard fist and heard the vampire shriek as the bones in his legs snapped and he crumpled to the ground. She barely spared him a look as the spell took hold and travelled up his body; battering him with such violence that one his own ribs lodged in his heart, killing him.
Klaus kept an eye on the witch as he sped through the few vampires that tried to come for her. It was exhilarating as he ripped and tore through bodies as though they were made of straw. The spray of their blood and the sounds of their screams fueled him to the point where he no longer saw them and instead saw all who would fall before him in his fight to reunite his family.
As he tore a heart from a chest, he felt a presence behind him spun around to meet it head on only to find that Bonnie's flashing green eyes peered at him from her blood-spattered face.
He tossed aside the heart in his hand. She looked like the lone survivor of one of those ridiculous horror films that Rebekah fancied. Her dress was a disaster painted in viscera and blood loss caused her to sway on unsteady limbs as she kept her right arm close to her body. She shuffled on raw, bare feet and turned her body to shield her injuries as blood from the wound at her back still flowed.
But it was her eyes that held him. She'd just slaughtered at least forty vampires of considerable age and even now she struggled to remain conscious. But her eyes told him that she already bracing herself; marshalling whatever resources she had left to defend herself should their unlikely truce of earlier turn out to be a thing of the past.
Bonnie watched warily as Klaus rolled up a blood-stained sleeve and bit into his wrist as if were ripened fruit. Blood flowed freely as he extended it towards her.
She hesitated, unsure if this was an offer or a dare. Dancing, drinking and commiseration aside, he was still Klaus Mikaelson and she was still Bonnie Bennett. But when she saw the wound beginning to close, she latched on; her tongue lapping at the torn flesh as she drank.
Klaus gazed at her head bowed over his wrist, taken with the image of one such as she drinking his blood to heal herself. If she'd been stubborn and refused, he would have taken advantage of her weakened state and forced his blood down her throat. Because if tonight had proven nothing else, the world was infinitely more interesting with Bonnie Bennett alive and well.
Once she'd gotten her fill, she stepped back; her wounds having already begun to heal. The hybrid's blood was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She'd drunk from vampires before but this was altogether different. This was over one thousand years old and fashioned from three different forms of magic.
Vampires always compared witch blood to rocket fuel and it is only now that she has an understanding of what they meant. The hybrid's blood was lighting her insides up like a Christmas tree both healing her and charging her magic. It had its way with her senses; temporarily sharpening them beyond the limits of their natural ability. Her limbs were unsteady now not because of injury, but because she struggled against the urge to strip naked and run; allowing the night air to cool off her suddenly heated skin. She wanted to find the nearest mountain and lift it with her bare hands. She wanted...
Klaus waited for her eyes to find him. He knew the effect his blood tended to have on witches. It had certainly helped in his recruitment of them over the centuries. Watching Bonnie as she tried to adjust to its potency was fascinating. But once her little pink tongue darted out unconsciously to lick the last of his blood from her lips, her adjustment became the least of his concerns.
Bonnie rose to meet him as his lips claimed hers. To feel him both wrapped around and flowing through her was intoxicating as she pressed herself even closer; her fingers grasping at the collar of his shirt. He tasted of all things wild and dangerous; a beast capable of crushing her in his embrace.
A moment later, her feet cleared the ground and she was overcome with the sensation of flying.
#
They burst through the double doors to Klaus' bedroom still wrapped around one another. The witch's magic made her a livewire in his hands as every touch of her skin sent tremors of energy that reminded him of when he was mortal. Mortality resonated on a hungry level; cursed with the knowledge that life is short and driven by the need to consume in any way that satiates, eclipsing even the vampire in its ferocity.
He felt that hunger now as Bonnie kissed him with an urgency that matched his own. He knew this interlude would be brief; that with the dawn began the hunt to take back all that is his. But for now, he will indulge in this...he will indulge in her.
Klaus cleared a nearby desk with a sweep of his arm, sending everything crashing to the floor before he set Bonnie atop it.
Bonnie's fingers grasped at his bloodied shirt and ripped it open before pulling it off.
"Do me a favor?" She panted between kisses.
"Name it."
"Don't hold back, ok?"
The hybrid pressed his forehead against hers, "Is that wise?" He asked, her request already breaking open a theme park of ideas in his mind.
"Probably, not," she admitted. "But I need to burn this off."
There wasn't a better way to explain it. Her blood was still up from the fight and with her magic supercharged by the hybrid's blood, she felt full to bursting with the need to unleash it; to let it strike out in all directions until it was satisfied.
"Word of advice, love...don't ask for what you aren't willing to deliver," before he grabbed the neckline of her dress with both hands and tore the ruined fabric in two; leaving her naked save for her pale pink thong.
When his hands reached out to palm her breasts, he felt himself being shoved so hard, his feet cleared the floor as he was thrown across the room and onto his massive bed. The impact with which he landed cause the bed's wooden frame to crack and splinter before letting out a mournful groan and collapsing into a lopsided shamble.
"Who says I can't deliver?" Bonnie asked, still perched on the desk.
Klaus was up and had a painful grip on her hair a second later, pulling her head back, his face nearly touching hers.
"That bed was over 350 years old and was commissioned for me by a sultan of Morocco."
"And before that it was a tree. Now, it's just kindling," Bonnie shrugged. "What are you going to do about it, hybrid?"
A hard yank of her hair and she was flat on her back atop the desk. He let go only to tear away her thong; leaving her completely exposed to him.
Stong fingers glided lazily up her thighs as Bonnie's heart picked up speed. They continued upward; pausing briefly to caress the mound of her sex.
Klaus spotted a pair of scars just above her navel. The smaller of the two appeared to be the result of an arrow; the larger the result of a blade of some sort. Both wounds should have been fatal and the fact that she bore the evidence of their existence still meant that there'd been no vampire or magic able to heal her.
He dipped his head low and traced the scars with his tongue and felt her tremble at his touch.
Bonnie's hands gripped the sides of the desktop as his tongue travelled upward; stopping to trace the underside of her breasts before it settled into a near-maddening holding pattern around her right nipple.
He heard her sharp intake of breath when his mouth closed over the erect bud. He sucked hard; pleased with the way she writhed beneath his attentions. His fingers returned to her mound only to find her delightfully wet and becoming even more so as he stroked and teased her folds; her hips moving, urging his fingers to sink themselves deep.
He decided to oblige her once his fangs descended and pierced her soft flesh. She soaked his fingers while her blood flowed into his mouth.
He'd tasted a mere sampling of her blood many years ago. It had been potent then but it felt doubly so now as it coursed down his throat and made his heart pound.
When Bonnie cried out her release, she felt the tenuous hold she had on her magic slip and heard every window in Klaus' bedroom splintered into web-like cracks. Her fingers found his curls as she held him to her; riding out sudden waves of pleasure he'd coaxed from her.
Klaus removed both fangs and fingers slowly before he pulled her upright and kissed her deeply, letting her taste her blood on his tongue. The scent of her arousal hung in the air and tugged at the lupine core of his nature. It caused him to tear his lips from her before he lifted her high into the air and settled her legs over his shoulders; his face buried between her moistened thighs.
Bonnie grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he held her aloft, the delicious pressure in her core beginning to build again. A spell fell from her lips when she moaned and the sky rumbled with thunder in response. Klaus hands gripped the globes of her ass tightly while his mouth had its way with her; sucking on her delicate bundle of nerves before driving his tongue deep.
When she came, she brought lightning with her. It flashed across the sky and illuminated the dimly lit room and seemed to reverberate through them both.
Klaus continued to lap at her folds before he finally left a hearty kiss on her mound and flung her unceremoniously onto his ruined bed. When she hit the mattress, she bounced; the frame giving even more as the broken beams resettled.
The sound made Bonnie laugh but she soon quieted when she saw the hybrid lick her wetness from his lips. She got to her knees and crawled across the mattress to the most level corner where Klaus stood.
He still wore his pants and his erection strained painfully against the fabric. She touched his waistband lightly and watched as the garment disintegrated and revealed his fully engorged cock to her eyes.
The hybrid's jaws snapped shut when he felt her tongue at the base of him. It traveled the length of his shaft and he felt certain that a small piece of his sanity had begun to flake off as a result.
There was lightning in her tongue. A portion of that which still flashed outside his windows had somehow found its way inside the witch and decided not to leave. It clearly must have settled into her tongue as she drew him into her mouth and hummed in satisfaction at the moan she wrung from his lips.
She continued to lick and suckle him before she finally burned a path up his torso with her kisses. Her lips settled on the center of his chest. She used a finger to trace a line on his skin and an incision bloomed in its wake; his blood flowing in a single rivulet. She caught it with her tongue and followed it back up to its source; sucking at the still open wound.
When the wound closed, Bonnie raise herself up and balanced her hands on his shoulders. She wrapped her legs around his waist and sank down on him; gasping at the way he filled her. Her walls gripped him tightly as she settled on his cock began to raise and lower herself at an agonizingly slow place. He gripped her hips as she rode him; his mouth finding hers as her rhythm gradually increased.
He was still buried inside her when he stilled her movements long enough to wrap an arm around her waist. He climbed atop the bed and deftly maneuvered them despite the complaints of the wreckage beneath them.
He lowered Bonnie to the mattress and thrust deeply. Her every cries spurred him on as his hips meted out a rhythm that had her raking his back with her fingernails. When her walls began to flutter around him, he raised himself up.
By now, he should be watching whomever lay beneath him as they began their ascent towards their own heaven. He would allow them to linger at its peak for a moment before putting an end to their lives.
Instead, he found himself bending to cover Bonnie's mouth with his own; swallowing her cries as his hips pumped furiously and her orgasm rocketed through her. Her walls squeezed him until he followed soon after; breathing hard with the force of his release.
He rolled off of Bonnie and onto his back as they both lay panting; the witch letting out soft giggles as aftershocks continued to flow through her.
When her breathing returned to normal, she turned to find Klaus gazing at her; a wry smile on his face.
"Again?" He asked?
"Oh absolutely," she chuckled.
#
"Considering one never sees you before noon, is there a reason we're out here at this ungodly hour?" Peter asked as he watched Klaus crouch down to get a closer look and at a conspicuously person-sized mound of ash.
He'd led such a quiet and unassuming life before the Original Hybrid found him and turned him. From that moment on he'd been in Klaus' employ and had grown relatively accustomed to the hybrid's hobbies.
However nothing could prepare him for what he saw when he returned from his night out to find the Mikaelson estate all but destroyed. The grounds were completely torn up; deep gouges crisscrossing the entire property. Trees had been struck by something powerful and were either uprooted or split in two.
Inside had been worse. The chandelier above the foyer was in pieces on the marble floor. Several of the first-floor windows were blown out and there appeared to have been a fire as many of the furniture pieces lay burned and smoldering.
He'd made his way through the debris and climbed the stairs; making note that an accent table had somehow imbedded itself in the wall next to his bedroom door. He'd continued down the hall to Klaus' room and knocked lightly.
"Come in, Peter." Klaus called.
He'd been witness to all manner of sights when entering Klaus Mikaelson's bedroom over the past two years. However, the sight that greeted him now made him want to slowly back out of the room and away from whatever madness had taken place.
The scent of sex hung heavily in the room, which was no surprise. But not a single piece of furniture was intact. A morning breeze blew through broken windows. Dirt and bloody handprints smeared the walls which also bore deep cracks from objects hitting them with force.
What were most likely clothes appeared as bloody rags strewn about the floor. Light fixtures hung by exposed wires. There was nowhere to step that wasn't littered with broken glass, shattered porcelain or splintered pieces of wood.
And in the midst of it all reclined his sire; naked atop an equally blood and dirt-stained mattress that lay on the rubble that had once been his bed.
"How was book club?" Klaus asked cheerfully.
"Um...it was fine," Peter answered uncertainly, still trying to make heads or tails on what had gone on in the six hours he'd been out for the night.
He moved toward one of the broken and overturned sofas and began to gingerly peer around; discretely inspecting the areas around larger items.
"Looking for a body?" Klaus asked bemused.
"Not to put too fine a point on the matter but...yes," Peter muttered, continuing his search.
"Don't bother then; you won't find one. She's very much alive."
Peter spotted what probably had once been a very nice rose gold sequined dress but now hung tattered and filthy between his pinched fingers.
"She is?" He asked doubtfully.
"Indeed," Klaus replied bemusedly, before letting out a jaw-cracking yawn and stretching from his perch.
Peter brought the fabric to his nose and sniffed delicately, "Witch?" He asked.
Klaus nodded slowly in reply and smiled smugly.
Peter stared at Klaus and frowned. The hybrid appeared just as filthy as everything else, but what gave the young vampire pause was how...relaxed he seemed. The ever-present tension that seemed to rule his body was gone. He was smiling for god's sake! He even asked about book club?!
"Oh, stop looking at me like that," Klaus chided before he bounded from his mattress.
"I am going to freshen up while you procure someone to take care of all this while we're gone." He shuffled through the obstacle course on his floor and made his way to his bathroom—the door barely hanging on its hinges.
"Gone? Where are we going?" He asked incredulously.
And now here they were on some empty street with the morning sun close to breaking through the clouds. He looked down at Klaus still inspecting the ashen mound with his fingers until he pulled a large ring from its depths. There were dozens more mounds scattered about; a light breeze already beginning to break them apart and carry them away.
"What is all of this?" He asked.
"This is a witch cleaning up after herself," Klaus explained dusting the ash from his fingers.
The first thought that registered upon awakening that morning was that he hadn't realized how much he'd missed being able to sleep.
The second was the awareness that Bonnie had gone.
The last thing he remembered was the exhausted witch falling asleep in his arms. All that remained now was a folded piece of paper found on the pillow next to him.
I took one of your shirts but I'll send it back once I get where I'm going.
Sorry about the bed.
If I happen to hear of anything that might help your situation, I'll let you know.
It was very nice to see you.
B.
P.S. On second thought, I'm not sorry about the bed.
He'd smiled remember the last; still mildly irritated that he'd missed the opportunity to watch her parade about in his shirt and nothing else.
Her scent was still strong in the morning air which meant she'd returned to this street and burned the bodies fairly recently.
"These vampires learned a very valuable lesson last night, Peter," Klaus declared. "When Bonnie Bennett says no, she's means it." He looked down at the daylight ring he pulled from the ash. He'd suspected he knew the identity of the vampire who sent his minions to collect the witch last night and the ring confirmed his suspicions.
This ring along with all the others that were sure to be buried beneath their respective mounds bore the initials of the sire who'd turned them: A.M.
What on earth did Adam Mayweather want with Bonnie Bennett?
He stuffed the ring into his pocket and stood, his mind already beginning to work.
"If the witch took care of all of this, then what are we doing out here?" Peter asked.
"I needed the name of the one who's after her. Now that I have it, he can be dealt with.
"I'm confused," Peter muttered.
Klaus turned to the vampire and placed his hands on his shoulders.
"These vampires were sent by one named Adam Mayweather. Adam Mayweather has a very capable network of supernaturals at his disposal and has had one for centuries. I'm going to find him, break him and take it from him," he explained simply.
"But why?" Peter asked. None of this made sense. How does one go from traipsing all over the world for two years straight—his days filled with unfinished paintings and bloody hearts-to planning a hostile takeover?
"Because I require it," he answered simply. "I do have a family to reunite after all." He would deal with Mayweather and then take that network, expand in whatever way necessary and turn it towards the Hollow and her followers. He'd forgotten that he already knew what it took do what was believed to be impossible. Thanks to Bonnie's inadvertent reminder, having his family together was no longer a wish in his view, it was a certainty.
From the corner of his eye he spotted something glinting in the first rays of sunlight.
Near one of the ashen mounds he found one of the gold stilettos that Bonnie had taken off before she'd thrashed Ammon and his crew. It was blood-spattered and partially singed from the fires she'd set. A fitting metaphor for the witch herself and for the night they'd spent together.
Peter saw the shoe in the Klaus' hand and noted how fondly the hybrid gazed at it.
"What of Bonnie Bennett?" He asked. "If she could do all this, wouldn't she be someone you'd want on your team?"
"Most certainly," Klaus agreed. "But unlike everyone else, she's earned the right to have a choice in the matter." Bonnie was foolish if she thought for one moment that this was the last she'd see of him. She could continue her studies all she liked, but he would find her. Even now images of their night together formed in his mind's eye accompanied by the sound of his name on her lips.
He wanted her on his team and in any other way he could have her. And he would have her.
That was also a certainty.
With her shoe still in his hand, he clapped Peter on the back good naturedly.
"She'll come around," Klaus assured. "But in the meantime, we're going hunting."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this because I enjoyed it. My muse and I are currently fight about whether on not to expand this into a full fic. I kinda don't want to because I already have an idea that I'm working on a post S4 TO/S8 TVD Klonnie fic goes in a different direction that this one, so we'll see.
Also look out for an update of Time Served which should be coming out in the next week or two. I'm also planning to post my first foray back into the Truth Teller verse so look out for that as well. Reviews are welcomed and much appreciated. Cheers!