"You expecting someone?'
Bonnie jumped at Loretta's question. The two of them were closing and it was almost 3 a.m. Loretta was elbow-deep in dishes while she tackled the mopping. It was two days since she'd run into Klaus, and she kept expecting shadows to jump out and seize her at every corner.
"No," Bonnie looked away from the door and hefted the mop again, "just thought I heard something."
"Blondie giving you a ride?"
"What?"
"That dude monopolizing you Wednesday night. Looked like sugar-daddy material to me," she teased.
Bonnie laughed,"Do me a favor and never say 'sugar daddy' again ok? He's just someone I know from Virginia."
Klaus hadn't made any attempt to contact her since that night. She'd hoped to push the incident out of her mind but every time she checked her bank account, each time she warmed up her dollar-store soup noodles, each time she looked over her shoulder for Jacques' vampires, she thought of Klaus saying Work for me and you can buy Mystic Falls for a playground.
"Hey turn the volume up," Loretta jerked her head at the tv above the bar. Bonnie set her mop down and obliged. The local news was on, and a picture of a young girl with black braided hair and a nose-ring appeared on screen.
"And in local news, a body identified as Amelia Esperanza, 18 years old, of West County, was discovered at the river this morning. While we await the coroner's report, one gruesome fact remains, or rather doesn't remain in the form of her severed head. Police are trawling the river for the missing body part but with as yet no results. Esperanza was an orphan living with her grandmother, Aurelia Esperanza, 60, a community member who is devastated by her granddaughter's murder."
Loretta swore under her breath, "Y'know that's the second one this month?"
An older woman appeared onscreen, barely holding herself up behind a microphone as she urged the public to come forward with any information about Amelia. Her mop of salt-and-pepper hair reminded Bonnie of Grams.
Someone pounded on the door and they both looked away from the TV.
"We're closed," Loretta yelled.
Bonnie turned around, "I'll tell them-,"
But she only took a few steps towards the door before it was torn off its hinges.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
"Hmmm?" Klaus let his tongue follow the trickle of liquor from the woman's clavicle to her pulse. He tasted powder, perfume and sweat along the way, mixed with the Macallens he'd dribbled down her breasts.
She started to wriggle playfully, pushing his hand away from beneath her sequinned mini-dress, "How come I've never seen you here before?"
He palmed her knee, pulling back to stare in her grey eyes until her eyelashes fluttered and she lost her train of thought.
"No I wanna know too," the brunette on his left stopped stroking his thigh, giggling at her friend, "your accent sure isn't Southern", manicured fingernails grazed his shirt-collar. But her cajoling tone turned petulant when he shook off both their hands and leaned over to pour himself another whiskey. He'd lost count of how many he'd had since retiring to the private booth.
He was drunk, bored, and getting drunker. The whiskey warmth faded faster down his throat with each swig, and yet he could still hear rain tinkling on the pine-needles of a long-dead forest, Henrik's body growing cold in his arms, and Mikael's harsh voice shouting Beast. Abomination.
He'd thought Mikael's death would bring him absolution, but all he felt was an emptiness where his rage and fear used to be.
Niklaus
Niklaus
Klaus!
Fuck, now he was hearing bloody disembodied voices.
His two companions were giving him odd looks. For the life of him he couldn't remember either of their names. Emptying out the bottle, he took one last swig. This time the burn was even more ephemeral. His tongue felt like ash and stone, not even the thought of draining the women behind him dry, not even the smell of their blood bubbling beneath the skin, could truly tempt him. He licked his lips and imagined the taste of witch's blood, her blood.
Sweet little Bonnie Bennett. She'd refused his offer but there was still time.
Niklaus!
Klaus!
A hand touched his shoulder and he grabbed the wrist in a vice-like grip, making the brunette wince. "I wouldn't do that, sweetheart," he flung her hand off and she rubbed her sore wrist, muttering.
When he stood up he heard the voice again. Calling his name.
Niklaus!
Klaus strode into the men's room, thinking a piss might clear his head. He'd just zipped up his fly and was washing his hands when the voice caught him off-guard again.
Klaus
A figure moved in the mirror and he blinked. It was a woman, statuesque with long dark hair, a straight nose and almond eyes.
He turned around and saw only empty air.
Must be drunker than I thought.
"What in hell-,"
There she was again, in the mirror. He narrowed his eyes. Something about her face nagged him with familiarity. She didn't move her lips, but he knew it was her voice that called his name. Dark eyes glowered at him, impatient and urgent.
You have to get to Bonnie, now.
Sweat trickled down her spine, slipped off her forehead and into her eyes, salted and cracked her lips. Every muscle in her body was in agony, and a dull ache was throbbing at the base of her skull.
Bonnie focused each atom in her body on holding up the barrier spell between her and the vampire.
Loretta's body lay at his feet, limbs akimbo and neck broken. She'd tried to run.
Bonnie knew her magic was about to give out, the pain shooting through her limbs signaled this, and when the barrier collapsed she would be helpless. Unless she could get to her purse in the break-room and the vials of vervain inside. If she could inflict some kind of pain she might stand a chance.
"What do you want?" she tried to sound authoritative, but her arms were starting to shake from the effort of staying outstretched. If she kept him distracted she might have enough time to make it to her purse.
The vampire took a step forward. He was tall and powerfully built, dressed in jeans and a military jacket, with a spiderweb tattoo on the side of his neck. His face might have been handsome, with its square jaw and aquiline nose, but his grey-green eyes were fixed on her like a hawk on a rat, and when his thin lips drew back from his teeth in a cold smile she cursed herself for not keeping the vervain on her. At least she had her necklace. "Don't come any closer."
"Ooh little kitty's got claws," he nudged the air between them with his foot, feeling the barrier of her magic, "you can't hide forever darlin'-," just like that his face changed, eyes going black and features contorting.
He started pacing up and down, scanning the roof, trying to get to her. With each second she could sense his agitation, the growing menace in his eyes, an addict in desperate need of a fix.
He wants my blood.
Bonnie kept backtracking, trying to get as close to the break room as possible before the barrier gave out, "You must be Jacques' friend. What was your name again-,"
"Didn't come here for small talk, sweet thing," he licked his fangs.
Just a few more steps and she'd be in the room. She really wished she played poker. Bluffing was not on her list of skills.
"You want blood? Fine, just let me go home-"
He roared and lunged, sending tremors through the invisible shield that tore through her nerves. Bonnie thought fast. Dropping the shield, she used her last bit of magic to push him violently backwards and bolted for the break-room. She was almost dizzy, her head pounding like a drum. Her fingers grasped a vial before she felt herself yanked off her feet. Her back connected hard against the lockers and she slid to the ground with a groan. He put his hands on her shoulders and yanked her up.
"Fuck!" his skin sizzled where it brushed her necklace and she used the lapse to smash the vial of vervain into his face.
He released her with a snarl and Bonnie tried to rush for the door. She almost made it before he grabbed her by her hair. Banding an arm around her torso, he pulled her hair so her neck was at maximum arch, exposed and vulnerable.
"I don't like to play with my food darlin'," his hot, acrid breath fanned her cheek. Part of his jaw was skinless and bloody from the vervaine, but bloodlust glowered black and hot in his eyes. With a snarl he tore the vervaine necklace off her throat.
She didn't know why she screamed when his fangs tore into her skin.
It wasn't like anyone would hear her.
Klaus wasn't prone to second-guessing himself, but even the sturdiest bloke would surely think twice before listening to strange feminine apparitions giving them cryptic instructions. He kept glancing at the rear-view, expecting to see those dark slanted eyes as he sped towards the Red Raven. Instead he only heard the echoes of that voice saying Get to Bonnie, now.
As soon as he pulled up he saw the wreckage of the door. Rushing inside, Klaus found the red-headed waitress growing cold on the floor.
Only one other heartbeat was discernible.
He could smell her blood even before he saw the male vampire bent over Bonnie's body in a feeding frenzy, slurping and growling as he lapped up blood. Klaus grabbed his shoulder and tore him away from the witch, but the vampire surprised him with a vicious side-swipe that sent him reeling. Klaus felt the metal lockers dent where his back smashed into them and he grunted, trying to salvage his lightning-fast reflexes from the dulling effects of alcohol.
Bonnie was on the floor, barely moving.
Her attacker faced him, black-veined eyes throbbing and high on witch's blood in the vampire version of a PCP-rage. He charged Klaus like a bull, narrowly missing him as he leapt out of the way.
Cracking his neck, Klaus positioning himself by Bonnie's feet and squared his shoulders, "This is over. The witch is mine." He could hear Bonnie's pulse growing weaker with each second.
The vamp bared his fangs in mockery. His mouth was coated in blood. Bonnie's blood. The entire room swam with its heady scent.
"Guess that makes you careless, don't it boy?"
Klaus had him by throat before he could remember to move. He squeezed, saw his eyes pop as his feet lifted off the ground, jaw foaming and chomping. Through the haze of his own rage Klaus could swear the prick's face looked like Mikael. Same tiny pugnacious eyes. Same bitter mouth. He tightened his grip until the vampire was choking, coughing up bloody bits of his own throat.
A small moan from Bonnie fell against his ears. She was still alive, but barely.
Klaus broke the vamp's neck then smashed him down hard enough the back of his head cracked like an egg on the floor.
Kneeling by the semi-conscious witch, he slid an arm beneath her back and cradled her against his shoulder. The side of her throat looked like it was torn by a wolf. Blood dripped from the mauled flesh, soaking her white t-shirt. A deadly pallor was creeping beneath her soft brown skin.
The scent of her blood assailed him like a gut-punch, and Klaus remembered he hadn't fed. She made a small choking gasp in his arms, and a hunger so violent shuddered through him it made his vision swim. Bonnie's head was lolling back on his arm, her bloodied throat exposed and beckoning.
It would be so easy, so sweet. Sink in his fangs, drain her past the edge of death, absorb the last throbbings of her furious heart into his veins. He could almost taste the tart rich flavor of her blood swirling over his tongue and coating the inside of his throat with sugar and spice. So easy, so sweet. His brain hummed a sing-song of desire. So so sweet. A sweet witch's blood for his jaded appetite. Klaus groaned and his fangs started to descend of their own volition.
Just then, Bonnie's eyes fluttered open, green as springtime in the forests of his childhood. He saw the confusion and fear there, the helpless anger. A small hand brushed his chest, like she was trying to push him away. Like she would fight him even with her throat half-torn open.
The scroll said: only a Witch's heart, and one pure as Water, Fire and Blood, but Stronger than all three.
He needed Bonnie alive in order to achieve something larger than temporary release. He could have all the power in the world at his fingertips, if he kept her alive long enough for his true purpose.
Her hand fell to the ground and those green eyes clouded over with unconsciousness.
Klaus opened the vein on his wrist and held it over her mouth. Blood dribbled onto her chin and lips but she made no move to drink. Setting her head gently on the floor, he parted her lips and eased his bleeding wrist between them. He then rubbed under her jaw to help her swallow. Slowly, he felt her mouth move, the tongue flicking his open vein.
Satisfied she would live, he lifted her up and carried her to his car. She would be unconscious for a long time, but already he could feel warmth returning to her flesh as his blood travelled through her veins, coursing through the heart that was the key to his future.
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