A/N: This is a prize fic for sunshineandfangs for all her great Klaroween works and her bingo win!
He first noticed her as she was dancing. The way her body moved in the low light of the room, it pulled him in. While most would let the draw attract them toward her like a moth to the flame, Klaus knew better and remained on edge as he watched her dance.
A young redhead was ensnared in her arms. To the untrained eyes, they were just another couple canoodling in a Parisian disco. But with the intimate tuck of her mouth against the girl's neck, Klaus's first instinct said vampire. For her powers to affect him from a distance, however, she was either older than made him comfortable or something else entirely.
See, he had a nasty habit of culling vampires over five hundred whenever he happened upon them in his travels. They were simply too prolific a breed for him to allow promises of true immortality, and he liked to keep an air of mystery about him. Mother Dearest had already done her part to endanger his existence, and Klaus wasn't one to take chances with those who lived long enough to string together the clues from the myth.
His other sires, though, they would pop up so infrequently that he often had to remind himself of the pros and cons to keeping them around.
The reapers were a regimented sort, something of a 'one in, one out' policy for maintaining their numbers. Not exactly a threat to him since he couldn't die, and they handled the messier crime scenes he didn't care to bother with. Their calling was a convenient one for him, had been ever since his first kills.
Upon awakening his demon side, Esther took it upon herself to curse him with an inherent weakness - a tool meant to protect her other children should the bastard fathered by the devil himself grow too powerful for her to contain. In a fit of rage at her attempt, Klaus ended up killing them all, his new abilities more deadly than he could control. Though he didn't care for his parents, both biological and assumed, Klaus did regret the deaths of his siblings. He clutched at their bodies, hoping to pour whatever power he could spare into what remained of their vessels.
Elijah was the first to rise, a reaper suddenly charged to guide a spirit past death. He felt it intensely and went to Mikael first - the murder that triggered Klaus's hidden genes in the first place. "I have to take him away," Elijah had said with such pain in his eyes. "There's no peace waiting for him. For any of us."
Klaus watched his brother speak to the air, then disappear from sight as though he never stood where he once was. A bone-deep terror froze inside him as the world kept silent for long minutes.
Then, Finn gasped to life.
He had yet to forgive Klaus for the thirst that birthed a race of monsters who fed on blood. Finn himself attempted to clear the world of the scourge of his kind, but he had borne a line of descendants too simple to replicate, and vampires soon overran even the witches who served at its greatest check to preserve the balance.
When Kol awoke, his gifts weren't readily apparent, and he was all too willing to leave Klaus guessing. Much like Elijah, he disappeared, this time in a mist.
Klaus spent decades wanting to commit the image of it to more than just the recesses of his memory. The cruel joke seemed to be Kol's ability to inspire such creative energy, feeding artists of all stripes exactly what they needed to push the boundaries of convention.
A muse, for lack of a better term.
Even a millennium later, Rebekah loathed that Kol and his ilk receive all the accolades while her succubi are relegated to racy dealings and cautionary tales. Desires, dreams, obsession - she enjoyed her realm immensely, she just wished the art world were kinder to their portrayal. Kol was to blame, she was absolutely sure.
As the fetching blonde pulled back from the girl with a sultry smile - sans fangs - Klaus began to wonder just how many succubi Rebekah kept on retainer and whether this one was under his sister's employ.
Family politics had yet to grow easier with age.
Like she could feel his intent focus on her, the strange woman raised too clear eyes to Klaus. He could just catch the silver glint in her gaze, the shimmer of her subtle magic enough to confirm his suspicions.
He raised his glass in a toast, his chin slightly pointing to the empty seat across his table. If she were smart, she'd hesitate in her decision; if she were wise, she'd accept his silent invitation anyway.
A beat late, she slid into the booth opposite him. With a flirtatious smile, she plucked the glass from his fingers and took a delicate sip. Humming her approval at the aged scotch, her eyes turned appraising. "Has anyone told you how delectable those dimples are?"
"Don't be a cliche, love," he warned, his tone deceptively light. "Your kind should know better than to hunt one such as I."
Groaning, she whistled for the waiter to order another round of drinks. "God, you Originals are so pompous. At least Kol makes an effort to keep up with the times. He manages not to sound like a relic."
Klaus felt an eyebrow arch, intrigue crawling up his spine - half warning, half anticipation. "I thought Rebekah had ended Kol's experiments with her progeny."
"Ew." She nearly shuddered with disgust, and Klaus had to hide a smile. "Not with a ten-foot pole and the skill to use it. No, my best friend's a dancer and a witch, he took particular interest. I have to kick him out on the regular for girls' nights. You're right, though, Bekah would totally kill me for even flirting with one of her brothers." Not that the threat stopped her foot from testing the line of his shoe under the table.
Smirking, Klaus made no effort to move from her exploration even as the possibilities whirled in his head. "Odd for you to tempt fate and Rebekah's temper. Even I would hesitate to do so without a good reason. Many motivations exist, far fewer to be expected let alone enjoyed. Forgive me the suspicion, love, but I rarely enjoy coincidental meetings with an associate of not one, but two of my siblings."
She sneered. "Kol is a tattletale. Bonnie brings him home one night, and by morning, your crazy sister is pounding down my door. She apparently demands all her underlings pay homage to her great honor."
"Pardon?" Feeling his brow furrow, Klaus struggled to picture even Rebekah do such a thing.
With a careless shrug, the succubus sipped at her drink. "I think she just wanted to make sure I was hot enough. You know, so I wouldn't embarrass her kind. Obviously, I passed." Her hand flourished down to showcase the low neckline and the marvelous cleavage it bared. "Duh."
Interest flared within him, and he found himself leaning closer. "May I have your name?"
Her eyes narrowed - wise indeed. "You may call me Caroline, and you're Klaus. The Demon."
"Half," he corrected. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Caroline."
"Is it?" Her foot had slipped from the dangerously high heel that kept her tall above the crowded dance floor and up into the hem of his pant leg. She smiled something bright and beautiful, the thudding beat of the music echoing inside his chest for an embarrassingly long moment. Sensing a big catch, her fingers teased around the rim of her tumbler. "Take me home, Klaus."
His answering grin was slow to spread, but no less satisfied. "Yours or mine, sweetheart?"
Klaus unabashedly tracked the lean legs revealed by the short hem of her dress as he followed her up the stairs. Paris was apparently a favorite for Caroline to keep a pied-a-terre near the Seine. She'd eagerly invited him up, but had yet to share more details of where she truly called home.
Not that she was scant for conversation; she shared any number of stories as they'd walked from the club.
"I've had this place for about a year now," she explained, fiddling with her keys at the front door. "Something of a 'sorry, not sorry I turned you' gift from the bitch that tried to kill me. We're good now, once I got a few licks in."
With an arched brow, Klaus brushed a finger down the nape of her neck. "Punches, or...?"
Caroline opened the door with a satisfying click, winking at him over her shoulder. "A lady doesn't kiss and tell. I'm happy to prove it to you," she promised, tugging him into her apartment by his shirt.
Taking the hint, Klaus grasped her hips and pushed her back to the closing door. His lips coaxed along her throat as she laughed, breathless. Meandering up to her ear, he kept his voice low and inviting as he murmured, "Tell anyone you like, sweetheart. I aim to be memorable." He sank into her pliable body with a deep kiss, no hesitation in his intentions as he licked into the warmth of her mouth.
Her hands dug into his hair, holding him to her. Fingers fell to the open collar of his shirt, toying with the leather cords of the necklaces he wore. Klaus could almost taste her curiosity as she briefly pulled back, only to let him distract her with a hand at her breast. Caroline surged back to his mouth, hungrily kissing him. Her teeth snag at his bottom lip, her tongue quickly soothing the pleasant hurt.
Sneaking into her plunging neckline, Klaus smiled when he found no additional lace or silk of a bra. His lips turned teasing with small nips. "Out for the hunt, were you?"
"I was famished." Caroline breathed in deeply, her predator's grin all the more enticing as her eyes flashed silver. Skin luminescent even in darkness, she pulled his shirt up and over his head to explore his bare torso. "Finding you tonight was like happening upon a king's feast. Your desires don't have to be torn from you to feed me."
"I share them willingly with those who can help me achieve them," he agreed. His hands slid the stretchy fabric of her dress back over her shoulders, leaving it settled at her elbows to keep her arms back and those greedy fingers of hers from distracting him. "Don't move, and I'll be generous."
Pouting, Caroline nevertheless obeyed and remained still as he shimmied the clingy skirt to settle above her hips. A scrap of lace was all that covered her pussy, and Klaus groaned into her neck at the heat of her. "Beautiful," he marveled, his hands skimming lightly over the sensitive skin of her thighs. "I want these wrapped around me."
A fiery hunger lit in her expression, her tongue indecently wetting her lips. "Show me."
Falling to his knees, Klaus placed a reverent kiss on the small birthmark just underneath her bellybutton, urging one of her legs to drape over his shoulder. A thumb raised to tease her clit through the panties she wore, mouth warm as it trailed down to the elastic waistband sitting low on her hips. His tongue dips below to trace the slight redness of pinched skin underneath, his strokes growing stronger until her hips start grinding into his hand. "Klaus," she whined, her head leaning back against the door.
He smirked, letting her guide the rhythm. "Tell me what you desire, love."
"Make me come," she moaned. His hand moves to brush along her slit in brief reward, only to stop short when she stops talking. Her eyes take on a stubborn bent, their silvery gleam delightfully annoyed. "Make me come, and I'll tell you everything I want from you."
Sliding down her underwear, Klaus let his lips linger in the crease of her thigh. "At least tell me how you want me. My fingers?" He teased the inside of her knee with the hand still wet with her arousal. "My tongue?"
He tested her with a small lick to her folds, hardly a touch - yet her legs nearly buckled. "Your teeth," she finally sighed. "I want you to put that pretty mouth on me until I scream, then bite me. You're going to need the sustenance for what I have planned."
"It takes a lot to wear me down."
Her lips parted as they tilted up, showing the glint of her teeth even in the dark apartment. "You haven't had me yet."
Taking the challenge in her tone, Klaus set his mouth to work. He spread her pussy lips to better reach her clit, though he kept the pressure light until her demanding hips rose to meet his mouth. His tongue slipped lower to test her entrance, soon bringing two fingers up to take its place. Teasing at her clit while he eased them into her, he latched his lips when she choked back a moan of pleasure. He paid close attention to her every reaction, his free hand spreading low across her stomach.
Caroline groaned, the silver gleam of her power leaving his own skin tingling. Klaus usually loathed the feel of magic not his own, especially when he couldn't harness the power for his own use. She was hardly the first succubus he'd come across in his thousand years, the coaxing draw of her magic pulling at him easily familiar to him.
What felt different was the eagerness with which he shared the force of his desire, the very life of him she needed to consume - and Klaus Mikaelson was consumed by no one.
Determined to consider the troublesome thought later, however, he curled his fingers within her until her muscles clenched under him, mewling cries falling from her lips. "I- I'm"
"Let go, love," he urged, his breath casting over her slick skin.
Shuddering through her orgasm, Caroline practically glittered under his touch. She wrestled against the bindings of her dress, her enhanced strength ripping the fabric from her arms. The loose seams were enough for the tattered remains to fall from her waist, leaving her completely bare and panting against the door. Slow to catch her breath, her expression turned dark and intent on his wet lips. "My turn."
Succubi shared a vampire's speed, and she flashed them through the apartment, throwing Klaus onto a bed that smelled like her. Her hands made short business of his belt, quickly tugging off his pants with little ceremony. Caroline's tongue darted out when she realized he wore nothing underneath. "Points for preparation, I like a man with a plan."
"Oh, believe me. You were the last thing I expected to find when I arrived in Paris." Klaus leaned back on his arms, content to watch her explore the length of his legs and his hardening cock between.
Caroline smiled up at him as her hand grasped the base of him, her grip firm while her thumb stroked the delicate skin just underneath. "I wouldn't have expected the Klaus to be taken by little old me," she said, dipping to gently lick at the slit. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, and he had to force himself not to jolt up into her mouth. "Sensitive, too. I think I'm happy I ran into you tonight."
About to respond, Klaus felt the words drain from him as her lips banded around him and slid down his shaft. Between that wicked tongue and the pull of her magic, his eyes squeezed shut, giving in to the pleasure she stoked in him.
Now was not the time for thinking.
Her finger traced the lines of his tattoo, gently circling the dark ink of birds in flight. "How long have you had this?"
"A while," Klaus answered vaguely. When Caroline had cuddled up to him after her last orgasm, his own form contentedly spent as well, he allowed her to snuggle into his side without even the barest discomfort. Not one to share his bed for an extended period of time, he wasn't quite willing to roll away from her, either.
But feeling too relaxed to move wasn't an excuse to share more details than he cared for her to know.
Caroline propped her chin on his chest, brows drawn in concentration as she stared at his slack face. "You're pretty closed off for a guy who was inside me about two minutes ago."
"Curiosity isn't a trait I encourage in a lover." Still, he didn't care to stop playing with the ends of her hair splayed across his abdomen. "Information is power, after all."
"Trust me," she snorted, "I'm feeling plenty powerful right now, and it's got nothing to do with what I do or don't know about you." Silver threaded through her eyes in emphasis, and Klaus couldn't help the thrill of arousal hardening his cock. Sex with a succubus wouldn't drain him as it would a human, nor would her powers of the mind affect his ability to see through her thrall. Damn if it wasn't a heady experience anyway, and he'd freely take advantage while their still naked bodies were pressed so closely together. Clearly in the same mindset, Caroline's hands wandered leisurely along whatever skin of his she could reach. "Do you want me to leave?"
Klaus frowned at her question, surprised to note that he really didn't. She wasn't exactly rushing to get up and even shrink from his embrace, so he let his own hand soothe down the curve of her back. Rather than answer her directly, though, he figured it prudent to change the subject. "You mentioned your transition earlier."
Groaning, Caroline looked away and nestled her cheek against his shoulder. "It's a little unfair you get to be curious about me while I'm not allowed to ask anything."
A sigh escaped him even as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He tugged lightly at her hair in admonishment for her admittedly fair point, his smile only widening at her mulish whine. "My brother Henrik is the youngest of us. It took him a long while to forgive me for essentially cursing him to an eternity of looking thirteen."
"Yeesh, and I thought I had it bad at seventeen." Caroline gave an exaggerated shoulder. "With some fancy clothes and creative makeup, I can at least get into bars." At his raised eyebrows, though, she pressed her lips together, waiting for him to continue the story she'd pried into.
"Anyway," Klaus said with more humor than he thought possible when it came to such a sensitive subject, "he died as a result of my own foolishness. A clan of werewolves lived near our village, he followed me from the caves, to watch them turn. They did not take well to the disturbance, and I had to carry his body back home. Mikael, the father I was relieved to discover was not actually mine, nearly killed me right then and there. I got lucky, managed to trip him. I grabbed his knife, and I slit his throat."
If Caroline was disgusted by his story, she didn't make a show of it. She merely kept her hand soft as it grazed over the hair low on his belly.
He took it as tacit acceptance of the violence that bloodied his hands even a thousand years later. "Unbeknownst to us all, killing my false father released my true legacy. My mother screamed as my demonic powers overwhelmed me. Then, they were all dead."
Her breath hitched in her throat, but Klaus forced himself to remain detached. Comfort wasn't something he felt inclined to share, not when he'd gone for so long without even a semblance of it. His voice was clinical as he explained the gifts he was able to bestow upon his siblings when they awoke, the several lineages he was able to claim and those he wished to remove at the earliest opportunity.
"Henrik took the longest to return to this world, and his adjustment was difficult. His affinity for animals and our mother's magic had only grown, witches something of a soft spot he shares with Kol. Despite the painful memories I associated with the wolves, he collected their loyalty wherever we went, though their proximity to me...changed them."
"Your hellhounds," Caroline breathed, something like a fearful awe in her tone. "I thought they were only rumors."
Klaus froze, suddenly aware of just how much he had revealed. His companions were loyal, and their fierce natures nothing he'd ever managed to regret - though he didn't like the uncertainty crossing her face at the confirmation of such a beast. "Henrik cares for them, and every animal he comes across in his travels - usually with one of us for ease, given his age. He chose the birds for my tattoo."
Eyelashes fluttering, she looked up to meet his eyes. "Why?"
But he shook his head, unwilling to show his hand further. "I believe it's your turn."
Caroline rolled her eyes, her expression holding little heat otherwise. "I'm sure you've heard plenty of stories from Rebekah about how succubi are created," she pointed out.
His shoulder lifted in a slight shrug. It had been a learning process for him and his siblings to understand the variation among the demonic species and their inception; while some shared certain powers and characteristics, the only commonality among them all was the simplest - but hardly the easiest.
They had to die first.
The reapers would be recruited by the one who collected their souls, an offer made only if and when Klaus agreed to release them from their duties. Elijah usually pleaded their case, encouraging his brother to avoid the heavy-handed rule he so often favored. Vampires just needed a little tainted blood before their final breath, then a little more of the mundane variety once the deed is done.
Kol loved to maintain the mystery of his muses, spreading rumors far and wide to ensure conflicting reports. Truly, some humans merely had a knack for attracting the worship of others, then amplified by death. Anchored to the mortal plane by such devotion, muses were free from the reach of reapers and able to live on as long as they held a following on Earth. The occasional upstart might offend Klaus with dreams of establishing a rebel legacy against the demon himself, who took a petty pleasure in removing all trace of a muse's existence by killing any and everyone who'd even heard the name.
The cult of Silas was a fun group to revisit every other century or so.
For a succubus, though, the process could be quite traumatic if not done intentionally. In the throes of genuine passion, it became difficult to control the magic they wore on their skin. When draining a mark, sometimes that magic latched upon their victim. Though they might die at the hands of a greedy lover who took too much, they would awake with a deeper thirst for life and new powers of seduction - without any memory as to why or how until they were able to feed.
"I was a bit of a wild child in high school, punishing my parents for their divorce," Caroline explained, nonchalant. "Dad had moved away, Mom dove into work, so I was alone. All the time."
The small waver in her voice couldn't be hidden, however, and Klaus felt it echo in his cold heart. "You must have been terribly lonely."
Caroline snorted before pressing a soft kiss to his chest. "And angry, and destructive. I was that awful mean girl in every teen movie, insecure to the extreme. One night, I found myself at this awful dive bar, just wanting attention of any kind. Gross men hit on me all night, and I soaked it up because I needed the validation. But then she walked in.
"Gorgeous, demanding. Kat knew exactly what she wanted, and for some reason, that night, she wanted me." Klaus watched the shine of her eyes dim in remembrance. "We fucked in my car, where I woke up the next morning. I didn't remember anything, just craved...everything. Straightening my sundress as best I could, I had to get to school. It wasn't until I dragged my ex-boyfriend into the bathroom before second period that I realized there was something very wrong. I didn't kill him, thankfully, but the learning process was rough, to say the least. Kat could have at least stuck around to explain things."
Looking around the apartment with a critical gaze, Klaus raised a curious eyebrow. "Yet she gifted you with this?"
Her lips pursed in thought. "Ran into her again about ten years back, on a singles cruise, if you can believe it."
"Easy feeding, I'd wager."
"And how," she teased back, grazing a nail down his side. "Kat's not one to feel guilty about literally any of the crap she does to other people, but she could acknowledge that it's kind of her fault that I'm a mostly immortal monster. She was even a little bit proud of me. I apparently have great control for a baby succubus - no deaths yet. Well, none that didn't deserve it, and I won't even feed from them to make sure they don't come back to haunt me."
Klaus felt his muscles clench, and he flipped her back to the bed. He scraped the tips of his fangs against her neck as his hands smoothed down the line of her body. "Aren't you the ruthless one?"
Putting more of his weight on her, she gasped when he settled into the cradle of her hips with a deliberate rub over her center. "Some people look at a pretty girl and think they can do what they want. I make sure they know how wrong they are." Then she shrugged. "Or, were."
He startled them both by laughing at that, dropping to kiss her, which she returned with enthusiasm. Soon, their mirthful smiles faded to moans of pleasure and murmured demands for more. By the time the sun rose across the torn sheets that barely covered them, Klaus had barely slept more than an hour for one of them would surely reach for the other throughout the night.
Groaning, he scrubbed his hand across his face, then drug his fingers through the mess of his hair. It was thoroughly wrecked from Caroline's effusive ministrations, not that he cared a bit for how it must look. He glanced back to where she grumbled into the pillow, her whole body shrinking away from the sunlight. For a moment, Klaus just watched her cling to the last bit of sleep.
And his heart skipped.
The sensation wasn't altogether unexpected; he'd noted moments of stronger affection than belonged to a mere tryst, an urge to make plans for the morning and the following days to see if he could keep her close until he grew tired of her company. It happened on occasion in his lifetime. A pretty human wanted to love him with all her heart after his first century. Around the 1600s, a witch once promised to make him the happiest man by serving his demonic whims. A vampire managed to endear himself in 1923, and Klaus had yet to return to Chicago because of the memories that could easily lead to something like regret. All held their charms and a particular growth of devotion when it came to Klaus.
But his mother had cursed him with her dying breath, the last vestiges of her magic attacking the very heart of him in penance for destroying her family. Someday, she swore, his human side would swell in love for another - forever tying even his demon half to the life of a soulmate. Once the bond had been achieved, the death of his mate would trigger his own and rid the world of his foul existence. Hard to believe Klaus didn't put any effort into bringing her back, not that she'd appreciate the supernatural legacy he'd already built in just a thousand years.
A bond required more than tender feelings, luckily, and Klaus made sure to remove the possibility before it could become dangerous to him. Aurora was set in the path of his sister, who killed her out of caprice. Vivienne fell victim to her coven for choosing the demon over the balance they were meant to protect, though he certainly encouraged the murder by providing evidence of her crimes. He strove for poetry when it came to Stefan, and he arranged the pieces of him to lay at rest, in the fashion the Ripper had so carelessly flaunted.
The small smile that had tipped up his mouth fell in an instant. Forcing the stealth that usually came naturally to him, he quickly stood to get dressed, more than careful to avoid waking Caroline. If she were to catch him leaving, there would be a conversation, likely an enticement to further distraction as she'd done over and over again. If he were being honest with himself, it would only become an opportunity for further attachment, an outcome he'd adamantly refuse.
His instincts screamed as he snuck out of the apartment, begging him to kill her before she presented a larger problem. Lips thinning, Klaus was hard-pressed to come up with a reason it was wise to leave her sleeping peacefully - but he left anyway. There were other ways to remove the threat without needing him to look Caroline in the eye as the life drained from her.
He needed to call Henrik.
Summoning a hellhound was usually a joy for Klaus, as they were wonderful companions in both repose and the hunt. Still, his head pounded as he called for one of his beasts with his magic. He'd warned Henrik that the largest would soon disappear, though he did not bother to explain why; his youngest brother was well aware of his murderous nature, but he could not possibly approve of the plan in mind.
As Fenrir bounded down the hallway of his mansion, Klaus also struggled with the order he needed to give. The hound huffed in enthusiastic greeting, and he bent to affectionally jostle the scruff and scratch its ears. "It's good to see you, Fen," he said, his voice somewhat hoarse with strain.
Tongue lolling from its massive jaws, Fenrir shoved into Klaus's body and rubbing along his legs. "Yes, I missed you, too," Klaus huffed as his fingers dug into the thick fur. Taking a moment to let the connection ground him, he reluctantly moved toward the table and picked up the scrap of torn sheet he'd thought to snatch from Caroline's apartment. He pressed his lips together, strangely hesitant in a way that worried even him.
It hadn't been nearly so difficult to remove any other threat in his life, despite the occasional punishment he meted out to his siblings. They were all very much alive in their own ways, of course, so it wasn't entirely similar. But the others, the potential soulmates his mother had so kindly warned him of, he had little trouble in accepting their fates as he decreed. Why, then, was Caroline proving to be such a difficult stain upon his conscience?
Hardening his heart with as much strength as he could muster, he held the fabric toward Fenrir. The hound was well trained and knew exactly what must be done when given a new scent to track - in this case, that of Caroline. Settled back on its haunches, though, it waited for the command.
Klaus barely breathed out. "Go."
Like a sudden wind, Fenrir rushed from the room and the house altogether. Only his dissipating howl on the air and the deep scratches left in the floor confirmed the hound had been there at all.
Walking toward the window, Klaus stared out at the clear sky. To many, it would seem a perfect day where nothing bad could happen at all. He wanted to curse the weather for being so beautiful, wanted the clouds to arrive and rage like the storm welling within him. Had he managed to go back in time, he'd swear to kill his mother before she could lay the curse at his feet.
But he will not be soft, and he will not die for the weakness of another. Half-human, half-demon - whatever battle for his soul might exist, Klaus only cared that he survived and lived as he chose. No one else could dictate his strength, nor his actions. His mother would not win, and Caroline would not render him powerless. Not while he had a choice in the matter.
For ten fraught minutes, however, he couldn't help but question his resolve. Regret sat heavily on his shoulders despite his internal protest at acknowledging such a feeling. Klaus briefly considered calling Fenrir off his task - only to be distracted by a searing pain in his neck.
His demonic power welled up in a protective fury, the rarely overwhelming magic instantly transporting him to the cause of the pain. A moment of disorientation was soon subsided in favor of the flesh being torn from him, and Klaus forces himself to focus on his new surroundings. Dread fills him at the familiar trappings of Caroline's apartment. He heard growling, and turned to find Fenrir snarling at her defensive position. Even with a gray pallor stained in blood, she was radiantly fierce.
Then, her eyes darted to his, betrayal clear in that expressive face of hers. "What-"
But the distraction was all the opening Fenrir needed before the hound struck with deadly accuracy.
"No!" Klaus shouted, a sudden horror rising in his throat like bile as Caroline flinched back. "Fen!"
Like a lapdog caught misbehaving, Fenrir paused in action, almost in fear of punishment when he looked to his master. His heart sinking with the truth of his own responsibility, Klaus nodded. "Go home."
With a pitiful whine, the hellhound obeyed, disappearing in a billow of borrowed magic and leaving only a scent of sulfur behind. That, and the blatant fear Caroline tried so desperately to hide even as she huddled against the wall. She moaned in great pain, clutching at her wounds while they festered. "What did you do to me?"
Klaus moved toward her to inspect the bite marks, only to hesitate when she hissed. The subtle points of her succubus' fangs used to hold only fond memories of them coasting along his thigh, but now they bared in warning should he step any closer. "Let me help you," he said softly.
"What," she bit out with menace, "did you do to me?"
The bitter tang of her blood on the air turned sour on his tongue. "The hellhounds, their bite is lethal in more ways than one." He aimed for a clinical tone in his explanation, as though he weren't the one to order the attack. "It does take longer to kill one with demon blood, but the suffering often leaves them begging for a quicker death."
Her chin tilted up, proud and defiant. "I won't beg you, Klaus," she swore in an even voice.
His skin throbbed with her cold denial, the proof of their connection all too painful for him to acknowledge. Not only did Caroline make him weak to the world, he grew weak in her very presence; he couldn't possibly rectify the situation he'd created. The truth was too dangerous for him to share, lest his weakness be discovered. "My blood is the cure," he said instead. "I can save you."
Tears pooled in her eyes, making the gray shine in the same sunlight that had awoken him not even an hour earlier. Bottom lip wobbling, Caroline wet the cracked skin with her tongue, eyes lowering. "I don't want to die," she finally answered with a choked sob.
Though he could have flashed toward her faster than even a vampire with his supernatural strength, Klaus's feet would only move at a human pace. Crouching down, he swallowed at the flinch she was unable to hide from him. "It looks bad," he whispered, his finger gently casting over the bloody cuts worsening by the second. Idly, he noted an itch as his own skin tried to knit itself back together - only to fail as she faded before his very eyes. Without another thought, he tore into his wrist with his demon's fangs and thrust it under her nose. "Drink."
The graying tinge of her pallor aside, Caroline hesitated to lean forward, even as her breath rattled in her throat. Her eyelashes fluttered when she made the effort to look up at his face - not the coy glance of a seductress, but a sign of her weakened state. "Why?"
Klaus threaded a hand into her hair, his fingers light though they pushed her toward the open gash of his arm. "It will heal you."
But Caroline resisted forcefully, rearing back. "No, why did you do this to me?" Her tone, strained as it was, dripped with disdainful accusation.
His thumb traced the edge of her jaw, and he frowned when it clenched at the contact. "Drink," he urged again softly, "and I'll tell you."
Suspicion thick in her expression, she let him press his wrist to her lips. Her eyes flashed silver at the taste of blood before she bit down. Klaus wanted to be annoyed at the unnecessary force she used, but he was too relieved to do more than brush her hair back while she drank. "That's it, love," he said, only for her to glare up at him expectantly. With a rueful smile, he deigned to obey her silent demand and began to explain. "My mother cursed me long ago, and I've been a cautious demon ever since when it comes to...attachments. You, Caroline, became a liability in triggering that curse."
She reared back, and he held back a curse at the drag of her teeth from his abused flesh. Blood hung at the corners of her mouth as anger left her chest heaving. "You tried to kill me because you like me?!"
"It's not quite as juvenile as that," Klaus answered stiffly, unused to defending himself. If he were honest with himself, he felt offended at the obligation of needing to bother trying. For her, though, he'd try anyway. "The curse is meant to make me mortal, and it seems you've managed what I had long hoped would remain impossible. I've killed before to prevent it, however, my strategy has failed in this particular instance."
"So not only am I half-dead because you have the emotional capacity of a child," Caroline said, her voice low and unimpressed, "but I'm also not the first one who's gotten this treatment? Way to make a girl feel special, ass."
Chastened by her bluntness, Klaus couldn't help the thrill of seeing that lively blush rising in her cheeks. Damn his mother and her power from even beyond the grave. "To be fair, you are the first one to succeed in making me reconsider."
"Oh, well," she scoffed, clearly scornful of his weak flirt. Holding herself upright to avoid leaning into him, Caroline shook her head. "As long as you've reconsidered your plan to kill me, then I guess we're good here. Thanks for the fuck and the save, but I'd like you to leave now."
Klaus's mouth fell open, but he was at a loss for words. "I-"
She gave an icy smile as she forced herself to stand from where they sat, jostling him out of her way when he tried to help. "You," the breeziness clipped by a cough she couldn't hide, "have overstayed your welcome." Striding across the apartment, she threw open her front door and gestured through it. "Well?"
Frustrated and out of his depth while his hands wanted nothing more than to reach for her, he slowly moved to follow her order. It took everything in him not to snatch her up as he left, to stow her away where no harm could come to her - to them - and he could pretend her existence was little more than an inconvenience easily forgotten.
Like she could read his mind, her false levity quickly falls to a hard glare. "Don't. You. Dare."
His eyes narrowed; Klaus didn't much appreciate anyone telling him what to do. But even he knew better than to push his luck by acting in a high-handed manner. "May I call on you tonight? We can discuss this...we can speak more over dinner." When she didn't answer, he clenched his fists to keep from doing something stupid. She was closely watching his reaction, and it wouldn't do to give her an excuse to be difficult. "Caroline?"
"Fine." She sighed irritably, widening the door just a bit. "Pick me up at eight."
"Seven," he countered, just to test whether their chemistry, once spurred by banter, had been forever changed. At her raised eyebrow, Klaus took it as intrigue and buoyed his hopes.
Rolling her eyes, Caroline all but shoved him out of her apartment. Both their breathing hitched at the touch, never mind the fact they were both fully clothed and she still looked like death warmed over. The confirmation of the bond, slight as it seemed, was enough for him to go. "Until tonight, sweetheart."
She scoffed and slammed the door behind him, but he still walked away with a grin. There were a number of restaurants that would appeal to her nature, and he enjoyed the prospect of creating the perfect evening to get acquainted with his delightful surprise of a mate.
Though he'd fully expected for Caroline to cause him nothing but trouble until he could woo her affections without reserve, Klaus hadn't realized the punch to the gut it would be to find her apartment empty. He considered leaving a hound to watch over her while he was cast out, an idea he should have executed. He tore through her things for any sign of her, not that she wanted to be found.
His mate was surprising in more ways than one. If she thought he'd turn away the prospect of a chase, however, he had a few lessons to teach the wayward succubus. Perhaps he'd call Kol, for his interest in her witch friend might come in handy. Using the hellhounds would be cheating in her mind, Klaus was sure. Rebekah could be the last resort, not that he or Caroline would enjoy the results of that phone call.
Or, maybe it was the bonding experience they apparently needed to give whatever this connection was a real chance.