She took his breath away.
What a cliché that was, used and abused by modern and classic epic romances alike, but it was the only term suitable to define the constriction in his chest, the lack of words that had been just about to spill forth.
Caroline glowed, her skin a delectable pinkish shade, her damp curls framing her face with blonde snags. She was impeccable, more delicate and awe-inspiring than any queen or princess whose company he enjoyed the pleasure of. All that marred that vision she presented was the easily torn swath of fabric that veiled her torso and hips from view. How he longed to watch it fall away.
Oh, he had plans for her. He was a covetous creature, and from the moment he laid eyes upon her, Klaus had imagined adding her to his expansive collection of precious baubles. She was more entrancing than any painting or statue he had come across, and given the choice, he would select her over the finest diamonds any day based on sheer beauty alone. He would deify her, and place her upon a pedestal of gold, reveling in the wave-like undulation of her golden hair and the unflawed canvas of her body.
He imagined marking it with his teeth and tongue.
"Is there something I can help you with?" She snapped. No doubt she was embittered by her current predicament. There was no escape, and deep down, she surely understood that.
And just like that, his ire returned. Escape had been a futile endeavor, and it was a mistake he would ensure she did not repeat.
"You and I are due for a little chat."
She took on an offensive posture, her stance rigid and her arms folding. One foot tapping, she answered, "I was thinking the same thing."
His eyebrow quirked and he couldn't find it in him to be anything other than amused at her indisposition to cooperate. "Oh?"
"Yeah," She spat, brazenly closing a few inches between them. "I do. You need to let me go, right now. I don't know what sick game it is you're playing, or for what messed-up reason you think that it's okay to pluck me out of the hospital and dump me god-knows-where." Her expression softened just slightly, and she added, quieter now, "I need my family. I need the medications."
He was not swayed in the least. Perhaps, in some small crevice of his heart, he pitied her need for the loving embrace of a mother and father. But she would learn to abandon that in time.
"Interesting proposition, love, but no."
She pushed him then, hard, rallying all her force behind her balled fists. And, surprisingly enough, he was jostled. He stumbled back a few feet, obviously flustered by her sudden outburst.
Straightening, he resumed his position, liberating himself of a few inches that separated them. Their chests pressed together, the texture of the terry cloth of her towel a mere tickle on the exposed skin peeking out from the unbuttoned collar of his henley.
"I wouldn't do that again, if I were you."
Were it anybody else, anybody but his new toy, they would be dead.
Before she could interject with a new argument, he launched into his diatribe. "I didn't come to be shoved around, Caroline," He said, his tone dangerous and acidic. "I came to discuss your little stunt earlier."
She took a step back so that she could fold her arms across her chest. "Well," She sneered. "I think it speaks volumes that I'd rather jump off a balcony than be anywhere remotely near you."
He chuckled, not quite sure whether he admired her for her bravery or pitied her for her stupidity. Either way, it did not change his next words.
His comparatively light—if you could call it that—demeanor faded, and became dangerous within an instant. "Where you have received me with hostility, I expect gratitude. That being said, I will keep this concise. I expect this sort of incident never to crop up again. And if you comply, all will be forgiven in time. Otherwise…"
A sinking feeling blossomed in Caroline's stomach. Perhaps it was his use of 'never' and 'in time', or maybe it was the look in his eyes earlier, like she was some sort of new toy of his that he was just dying to get his hands on, but she found herself unsettled, to say the least. She'd been denying it in her mind, refusing to acknowledge that a man she really didn't know had scooped her up out of the hospital and dumped her god-knows-where to do god-knows-what to her. Now, it hit her full force how bleak the situation truly was.
Because no one in their right mind carts a strange, dying girl off without some twisted reasoning behind it.
"Stay away from me," She whispered.
That smile returned again, as if he had not just threatened her. As if he weren't a lunatic who visited hospitals after hours and stole their patients away in the night. As if she weren't standing there, radiating how much she despised him.
Klaus assessed her towel-bearing form once more, with appreciation. "You'll be joining us for dinner. And as little as I mind your current dress, I suggest you seek out something more appropriate."
Her wardrobe, a towering thing of intricately carved oak with a side door that housed a mirror and seven drawers, was offensively paltry in stock. It wasn't that there wasn't an abundance of clothes to choose from, but rather, there was an abundance of skimpy, lacy things—lingerie and short skirts and the like—that simply wouldn't cut it for Caroline. And thus, she ended up traipsing down the massive spiral staircase, chauffeured by a servant with downcast eyes, wearing the most unrevealing item she had found in the entire selection: a lovely white lace dress with a high hem that offered a sheer panel that stretched across her shoulders as way of coverage. Nonetheless, it shielded her somewhat, and with that, she would have to make do.
Klaus was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase.
His eyes were trained elsewhere, in a room that she couldn't see, but when he heard her footsteps, he glanced up. And for a moment, he looked utterly dumbstruck. His mouth fell open, and it seemed as though he was utterly, inexplicably focused upon her.
Then, he recovered.
He offered her his arm, and as graciously as she could, she took it. She refused to meet his eyes.
"Am I meeting someone?" She asked, noting his more formal attire. He wore slacks, and a white dress shirt, neatly tucked in.
"My siblings," He responded. "My sister, Rebekah, and my brothers, Elijah and Kol."
"Isn't it a little early to be introducing me to your family?" Caroline deadpanned.
He laughed as though she had truly meant it to be funny, and then he led her into an adjoining room.
Three pairs of eyes met hers, and Caroline instantly felt smaller, as she always did when she knew she was being judged. The blonde, striking enough to be intimidating and presumably Rebekah, spoke first.
"My, my," She cooed. "Is this the stray you've dragged in?"
Her smile was icy and her eyes were cold. After giving Caroline an appropriately dehumanizing once-over, her piercing stare shifted to Klaus.
Seemingly unaffected, he replied, "I was taking a page out of your book, dear sister."
"Attempt to be civilized, please," said another one of Klaus' siblings, dressed in an impeccably-fitted suit and with his focus directed elsewhere. He'd seemed to lose interest almost immediately, for which Caroline was grateful. Although she didn't have an inkling of an idea of anything about him, it made her like him a little. The last thing she needed was to be stared at like a microbe under a microscope.
The third and final member of the group, another male who was dressed far more casually in jeans and a T-shirt, was far less intimidating than the other two. This brother offered a toothy grin and a little wave. "My," He mused, his eyes never leaving Caroline. "I can say far more for your taste than our sister's."
"Shut up, you wanker," Rebekah snapped. "At least I keep my lovers satisfied."
"You mean, until you get bored and kill them off?"
Klaus lifted a long-stemmed wine glass from the table, tapping a spoon against the rim. The noise seemed far more overpowering than it should have, sending a shock of pain through Caroline's forehead. Instinctively, she covered her ears. She didn't understand why it seemed like someone had turned the volume up on, well, everything. But she was certain that it had to do something with Klaus and what he had done to her.
"Enough you two," Klaus reprimanded his siblings. He pulled one of Caroline's hands away from her ears and smiled apologetically, before turning back to the table before them. He dragged out a seat adjacent to the head of the table for her. Admittedly a tad afraid to refuse, especially over something so trivial, Caroline obliged.
"Caroline, this is my brother, Elijah." He gestured to the suit-adorning male seated to her left, and he finally looked up at her, gently taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it.
"Pleasure," He murmured, and as soon as he had released her hand, he seemed unfocused again, his attention wandering elsewhere.
Klaus then directed her attention to the other male at the table, presumably Kol. "And this, Caroline, is my other brother, Kol."
He sat across from her, and to his right sat Rebekah. He stood, and Caroline took that as her cue to do accordingly, and he did as Elijah had and kissed the top of her hand. "Lovely to meet you, darling," He offered before sitting back down. Unlike Elijah, his eyes did not leave her.
Finally, Klaus motioned to Rebekah. Unlike Kol and Elijah, who had dark eyes and dark hair and resembled Klaus little, Rebekah shared his light eyes, light hair, and full lips. "As you may have guessed, this is my sister, Rebekah."
Rebekah didn't stand, or offer her hand to shake, or even so much as smile. She did not say a word, but instead, she stared at Caroline like she was an insect, or perhaps something to eat. Caroline did her damndest not to seem intimidated, meeting her gaze evenly.
After what seemed like an eternity of this, Klaus sat down at the head of the table, and Rebekah looked away. Caroline felt a tad of triumph at the thought that she hadn't backed down, and resisted the urge to smile, just a little. Instead, she turned her focus to Klaus as well.
He tapped the spoon against his empty wine glass again, and this time, Caroline just balled her fists at her sides and ignored the shooting pain in her temples. Five servants appeared from behind doors she hadn't noticed before, cleverly painted to seem as though they were a part of the walls. Each servant carried a pitcher of wine, and in unison, they stepped forth to fill all of the dinner guest's glasses. When they had filled all of them with a perfect, to-the-brim pour, all four of the other occupants of the room lifted their glasses to their lips. Caroline did the same.
She choked on the taste. A couple times before, her parents had let her have a taste of wine. But this most definitely did not taste like her parent's wine, or any kind of wine at all, for that matter. Instead of having the slightly bitter tang that was inherent to wine, it tasted coppery and metallic, and if she was being truthful, sort of luscious. No, they certainly weren't drinking wine.
They were drinking blood.
A/N: So, obviously, this took a lot longer to finish than I'd like, but I'm really appreciative to all of you that have stuck with me so far! Your kind words give me life, and I hope you continue with me and this fic. I'd like to finish the next chapter sometime next week, but I've been really sick lately, so, fingers crossed. Also, a long time ago, I wrote my first KC fic, He Will Not Be Denied. I haven't updated in a while, and I'm not sure if I should continue it. If any of your lovely readers have the chance, please let me know what you think. Anyway, the response to this has been more than amazing, and I am so grateful for each and every one of you. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!