Back at O'Hare, things were not much different than when she'd left it less than twenty-four hours before. A quiet bustle filled the air, something similar to the feeling she kept in the center of her chest. It was a hushed movement, a small buzzing that meant everything was simultaneously still and alive. Cami was fighting hard to keep that feeling going.
This time she was at gate F3, out near the smaller gates at the very far end of the airport. There were only three other people there so far. She had gotten there extra early so she could avoid sitting around at the hotel. She tried not to think about how expensive this all was, the airfare, the wasted time in the hotel, the rental car she would have to get once she got there.
"Now boarding flight 512A to Charlotte, North Carolina," the flight attendant announced on the overhead. She couldn't get a nonstop flight, so she had a layover there for an hour and a half before she flew on to Charleston. She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and handed her boarding pass over to be scanned before walking down the boarding tunnel onto the plane. This plane was tinier than the one she'd taken from New Orleans, there was barely enough room for her bag in the overhead compartment. She strapped herself into the seat as others boarded.
The captain came onto the PA system and told them the flight would take two hours and thirteen minutes, and then went on to give instructions of what gate to go to if you were continuing on to Charleston from Charlotte. Cami didn't pay much attention, she was sure she could figure it out once she got there. Her eyes were already drooping. She wondered how much sleep she'd gotten in the past few days. She felt so exhausted, but still the compulsion to keep moving kept screaming in her mind.
She slept through the flight, only waking when the descent of the plane made her stomach feel like it had dropped into her feet. She deboarded the plane fifteen minutes later, hurrying over to the screen with departure information, and proceeded to the next gate and the next plane to take her the rest of the way to the beach house.
The stress of the airport, the boarding and deboarding, the canned air, the mad scramble to get from gate to gate, took her mind off things. If she could just keep the movement going, if she didn't have to stop, then she didn't have to remember that she was going to the beach house. And she wouldn't have to remember she was going there because her grandmother had died, and had left the house to her.
Two hours later, and she was in Charleston as the sun was steadily rising. She'd kept her phone off ever since leaving Chicago, but upon turning it back on, she realized it was six in the morning. She hadn't slept more than four hours combined for the past two days. And yet she didn't really feel tired, just like an empty shell of a body in perpetual motion.
The boy at the rental car desk didn't look older than seventeen, and her certainly didn't look awake at this hour. He entered her information into his computer, looked at her driver's license, took her credit card, and then handed her the keys to some generic SUV, telling her where to find it in the rental car lot. She did so easily, getting in, plugging her phone into the auxiliary cable. She used her mapping app to give her directions to Kiawah Island, to the house, and then turned on her music, spinning the volume dial up to an unreasonable level.
The sun was fully risen at this point, but still had an orangey tint about it, casting everything in a beautiful early-morning glow. The palmetto trees that lined either side of the road had an angelic glow about them. She's here with me, I can feel it, Cami thought to herself before she could repress it.
The thought launched a hundred more, spilling out from behind the door in her mind that she was trying so desperately to keep locked. She can't be here, she's dead. And then, No, that can't be right, she can't be dead. And then, It is right, otherwise Aunt Peg wouldn't have called, otherwise Dad wouldn't have fought with me like that. Otherwise I wouldn't be driving to a house that once belonged to her and now belongs to me.
And these thoughts cycled within her for an indeterminate amount of time, because once they'd been released, she could not shove them back behind that door. They were loose now, and it was making everything so real. Every time that tiny voice in her popped up to say, There must have been some mistake, a thousand more voices chimed in to disprove that statement.
The drive to the house was forty minutes, and no matter how loud she turned the music, still her mind raced on with these cyclical thoughts. At last she pulled the car into the driveway and killed the engine.
She had not been to the house— or more accurately, a mansion— since she was thirteen. She remembered summers there with her parents, with her cousins, with her whole family. With her grandmother.
Cami got out of the car. And she stood in awe of the place, the lush plants that lined the driveway, the palmetto trees along the sides, the winding stairs that led up to the massive front door, the pastel green paint that covered every inch of the house. Her knees gave out as she fell to the asphalt, feeling like she'd just been punched in the gut. I am here because this house is mine now. And this house is mine now because my grandmother is dead. The floodgates opened inside her, and for the first time since she'd found out, she cried.
Tears flowed freely, and she could not stop the strangled sobs that escaped her lips. She didn't care if anyone saw her or heard her, this strange girl sitting in a driveway at seven thirty in the morning and weeping inconsolably. The pain was raw inside her, and every attempt to shut it away again resulted in a fresh batch of tears.
She did not know how long she had been sitting there on the ground, or how long she'd been crying by the time she gathered the strength to stand. She knew there was a spare key hidden somewhere near the mailbox that was attached to the side of the front entranceway. Walking slowly up the front stairs, she focused on the task at hand because if she left any room for anything else, she knew the painful thoughts would fill her up again, and she would spend another twenty minutes crying on the ground.
After a few minutes, she found the key, placing it in the lock and turning. The door opened and she felt frozen on the front stoop. Her mind subconsciously darted to the vampires she knew, who had to be invited in first, who were resigned to stay outside unless otherwise indicated by the owner of the property. Was this how Klaus felt, like he might burst into flames if he took one more step forward? Cami felt like she might be struck down by lightning if she lifted her foot and placed it inside the threshold.
Still something pushed her to do it, and she stepped inside a house that she had not been to since she was a child. A house that would now bear her name on the deed.
Her memories of the place were dim, but as best as she could tell, everything was mostly the same. All the same furniture, only the technology was different, with enormous flat screen TVs adorning the walls. On the first floor, from where she stood, she looked around at the sitting area, two hallways diverging from it to lead off into guest bedrooms. To her left, she saw a staircase, and the rickety glass elevator that she and her cousins had loved to play in when they were children. I own a house with an elevator in it, she thought. And then she cringed because she felt guilty for feeling a fleeting moment of happiness. Remember how you got this house.
The room that she and her parents had normally stayed in was on the first floor, down the hallway that was to the left off the sitting room, but now she could have the pick of any room that she wanted. She took the stairs two at a time to the second level and found herself looking at another sitting area with another large television. Just behind the couches was a bar. She hurried over to it, searching the cupboards and the mini fridge for any alcohol that might be there. She found a bottle of red wine in a cupboard and hastily found a corkscrew to open it, not bothering to even look at what kind it was. For all she knew, it could be a two-hundred-dollar bottle, but she opened it and drank it straight without a glass, downing as much as she could in one pull.
As she moved out from behind the bar, she took the bottle with her. There was a patio door to a deck beside the counter, and she opened it, stepping out into the warm morning air. The barely-risen sun was glinting on the ocean water, calling to her, warming the sand of the beach. She would go down there eventually, it was only two blocks away, but she wanted to keep looking through the house. She left the door open when she stepped back inside, letting the fresh air waft in, making the place feel less sterile, like it hadn't been touched in years.
Past the second floor sitting room, she found another one with another TV, but mostly a lot of cushy pastel-colored couches that seemed more conducive to reading, especially with how the numerous windows allowed ample natural light to seep in. Sure enough, Cami found a smattering of books stacked haphazardly on various coffee tables and other flat surfaces. She picked one up, Lolita. She wondered who had been reading that, and how long ago that had been.
There was a long dining table beyond the couches, still set with dusty green placemats and a couple of coasters. Some of the chairs were pushed away from the table, as if one of her little cousins had just been there and had been too excited to go to the beach to bother with pushing it in after he'd finished breakfast. Cami had the strange feeling that at any moment she might turn around and see someone, and that someone might tell her that they were glad to see her, that they had missed her. That maybe even her grandmother might be that someone. But the thoughts that could no longer be repressed, the ones that were swimming through her mind now at a relentless pace, told her such a thing was not possible.
The kitchen was just past the table, furnished with the latest technology in shining stainless steel. She opened the fridge to find it empty, but noticed there were a few frozen meals in the freezer that she could probably use to tide her over until she could get to a grocery store. But it didn't really matter all that much; she doubted she would be hungry any time soon.
She left the kitchen, passing by the stairs again, and then passing by the elevator and the stairs to the third floor. She had rarely ever gone up there, and had no desire to do so now. Besides, that's where her grandmother's room was. She didn't think she could bring herself to go up there just yet. She went past the bar again, taking another long swig from her wine bottle before setting it on the counter.
Down a hallway, she found a large bedroom outfitted in ugly old-fashioned decor. Her Aunt Peg and Uncle Marshall usually stayed there when they came. But for now, she decided this would be her room.
She collapsed on the bed, on top of the covers, closing her eyes. The alcohol was beginning to wash over her, calming her racing thoughts, making the exhaustion set in. The last thing she thought of before she dropped into a dark and dreamless sleep was of Klaus. Did he know she was here? And what would he say to her if he did?
Cami had slept through the entire day. It was six in the evening when she woke up, bewildered, wondering if her phone meant AM or PM when it flashed "6:00" across its screen. It also told her she had a text message that had arrived three hours previously. I know you're busy. And I don't expect a response from you. But I hope you're doing okay, and I'm thinking about you. It was from Will.
Her brain could not sort out how she felt about this. On the one hand, she really appreciated his concern, finding it endearing, he was always so sweet. And on the other, she found it impertinent, him thinking that she could really talk to him about something this personal and devastating when they didn't actually know each other on that level. She could only think of one person she would want to talk to about this, but she knew for now she would rather shut herself away, be alone.
Stretching, she got up and paced the room a few times while her head shook away the remaining dregs of sleep. Her stomach growled, and she thought back to the frozen meals she'd seen in the fridge. None of them seemed appealing now, and who knew how old they were. And she needed more alcohol, stronger alcohol. Taking out her phone, she used it to search for the closest grocery store, discovering it was only ten minutes away in a little oasis of tourist traps and kitschy stores.
Once in the car, she realized that she had left her bag in the passenger seat. She wasn't even sure she would be needing it any time soon— would she change clothes? Would she shower? Brush her teeth? It was taking all her energy to even go to the grocery store. It was most likely that once she got home from this endeavor, she would once again collapse on the bed, fully clothed, on top of the covers.
The grocery store was located in a little strip mall that had shops selling overpriced beach-related apparel and sunglasses, a gimmicky ice cream shop, and a jewelry store. In the center of the square was a grassy area, populated by dozens of people setting up lawn chairs and blankets, all congregating in front of a large fabric screen. Cami understood that some sort of movie would be shown here. Kids were running around chasing each other, and she smiled a little to herself.
The store itself was some new-age health foods market with things like kombucha and gluten-free organic vegan cookie mixes. She picked a few snack-y things, some chips, some bread and cheese, eggs, the basics, and then picked a bottle of vodka from a brand she'd never heard of. When did a little math in her head for how much this would all cost, she cringed a little, but she just added it to the tab. Plane tickets, a rental car, expensive groceries, who cared at this point?
Making one last run through the aisles to see if she'd missed anything she felt she couldn't live without, she stopped once more by the dairy fridge. Behind her, a man lingered as if she were standing in front of the exact thing he needed, and he was waiting for her to move. Cami bristled, the hair on the back of her neck standing up, goosebumps raising on her skin.
Don't turn around, she thought to herself, wait until he goes away. Because she knew why goosebumps were breaking out all along her arms. The man loitering behind her, whoever he was, was most certainly not human. Cami had been around enough non-humans to sense when one was near her.
She could still feel him behind her, watching her. And she couldn't believe her luck. She had almost looked forward to being free of the supernatural, if only for a little while. It was her one solace in this crappy situation, that at least she could be away from witch and werewolf and vampire drama. And here was this man, seemingly intent on ruining that for her.
Without turning around, she said, "I have a switchblade in my purse," just above a whisper. Only someone with supernatural hearing would have been able to hear.
"You're very brave for a human," the man said. "Unfortunately, hostility will not save you in the end. There's no need for it, at any rate. I don't intend to hurt you."
"Then maybe start with that statement next time," she said.
"And why would you want to hurt me in the first place?"
"Because I know what you are," she said, finally turning around to face the man. She was first struck by how handsome he was, well dressed, polished. But then again, she had not expected anything less.
The man standing before her was tall, his black hair parted neatly to the side, his eyes bright. "Daniel Yukimura," he said, extending his hand to shake.
"What do you want?" she asked, pointedly not shaking his hand.
"To know your name, for a start. To know how you know what I am," Daniel said.
"I've been around the block a few times with your kind," she said. "Why are you following me?"
"Who said I was?"
Cami's stomach sank as a thought crossed her mind. "Did Klaus send you to spy on me?" She couldn't tell if she would be flattered or angry if Daniel said yes.
"Klaus?" he said, his eyes narrowing. It was obvious that he didn't know what she was talking about. And then realization dawned on him. "Klaus Mikaelson?"
When she didn't answer, he continued, "You know Klaus Mikaelson?"
"In a manner of speaking," she said quietly.
"I didn't think he would associate with humans," Daniel said.
Cami thought carefully of how to explain their relationship. If she admitted she was his therapist, Klaus would surely be angry with her because he would see therapy as a sign of weakness to others. If she told Daniel that she had feelings for Klaus, Daniel would laugh at her. "I do some secretarial work for him."
"And he's told you what he is?"
"I figured it out for myself," she said.
"Clever," Daniel said.
"So he really didn't send you to keep an eye on me?"
"He really didn't," Daniel confirmed.
"So why are you following me?" A knot was forming in her stomach. Vampires were never ones for playing with there food, and she was sure now that the next words out of Daniel's mouth would be his confession that he was sizing her up to eat.
"Checking out the fresh meat." When he saw her horrified expression, he quickly covered, "In a manner of speaking, of course. I have no intentions of making you my next meal. Just curious about any newcomers to the island. With the summer tourist season winding down, I'm surprised when a new face arrives.
"And seeing your reaction upon meeting me, knowing immediately what I am, that has intrigued me all the more."
She studied him for a long second, trying to decide if she should believe him or not. Scanning her eyes over him, she saw his body language was relaxed, unthreatening, and decided he wasn't going to hurt her, for now anyway. While looking him over, she noticed the way his slacks fit him so perfectly, the way his sport coat framed his shape, and she wondered to herself why vampires always had to dress so fancily.
When she met his eyes, he was smirking, and she knew he had noticed her looking him over. He was incredibly attractive, she had to admit, but she was still suspicious.
"So what brings you onto the island?"
"Personal business," Cami said tersely. She wasn't ready to say it out loud, the reason why she was there. "But," she conceded, "through a strange turn of events, I find myself now in possession of a house on Albatross Way."
"Is that so?" Daniel said. "You'll have to tell me that story sometime. Perhaps over dinner?"
Was this guy for real? Cami couldn't believe that he was really asking her out after only talking to her for ten minutes. "Perhaps," she said coldly, leaving room for only one interpretation: Perhaps Not.
"You never told me your name," Daniel said.
"Camille."
"Enchanting to mee you, Camille," he said. He bowed his head a little, and then spun on his heel and left.
Cami felt her stomach clench and unclench, and as she watched him go, she was left with this lingering sense of unease. On one hand, she felt intrigued by him, this handsome vampire stranger who showed up in the one place she thought would be vampire-free. And on the other, that was exactly what was so suspicious about it: on the island, she thought she would be away from the supernatural drama, and here she was, running right into it. It was like no matter where she went, she couldn't escape it, it followed her.
The checkout process, getting her bags into the car, driving back to the house, lying back down in bed once the groceries were put away, it all passed by in a blur. Because she couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with Daniel, and she couldn't stop thinking about how she actually wanted to see him again, even though she was still skeptical about him. It was too much of a coincidence that he would just happen to show up right where she was. Klaus had to be involved somehow. That, of course, raised the question as to how he knew she was there, and what else he might know about the situation.
She knew she shouldn't be surprised, because he always had a way of knowing these things, he had connections everywhere. Although Daniel truly did seem surprised when she mentioned Klaus's name, so in the end she was totally lost, unsure if Klaus was involved or not, unsure then of what Daniel wanted.
To go to bed, Cami got under the covers this time, although she did not change out of her clothes. Even though she had spent the entire day asleep, she drifted off with ease, falling into a dreamless sleep.