This chapter is short, but another one is already on its way ...
She avoided him for the next few days. She claimed she was sick and couldn't come down to dinner. He didn't argue with her on it. Instead he sent Alaric up with bowls of soup. Alaric had confided in him that she looked quite well, only somewhat nervous about leaving her room whenever it was suggested she go sit on the porch and get some fresh air.
He took to running more than usual. He left tread marks in the cellar floor, running laps, back and forth. He tried to get all the energy out, but she was stuck to him. He couldn't stop thinking of her.
She slowly made her way out of her cave, first only coming out for dinner, then coming out more often. She had a hard time looking directly at him.
She was blushing.
She stumbled on her words.
He enjoyed her awkwardness at first. He liked the way she squirmed and blushed. He liked that every time she looked at him she was reminded of what they almost did. He knew he had made quite an impression.
But eventually she got herself together.
She maintained a more formal approach in their conversations.
He tried to touch her, engage her in little games, but she laughed nervously and shrunk away.
Marcel came back briefly, bringing her clothes and chocolates and little trinkets. She acted as if he was her savior. She flung herself at him, hugging him and thanking him.
Klaus had never hated his best friend so much.
Marcel sensed it too, easing the girl away, reminding her that he was only doing Klaus's bidding, that Klaus was the one that suggested he go to Dior and find her some clothes.
She mumbled her thanks to Klaus and skipped away, excited to play with her new things.
Marcel and Klaus went down to the cellars where they wouldn't be overheard.
"I've got some bad news." Marcel said.
"What else is new?"
"This girl of yours, are you sure you want to keep her around?"
"That's not up for discussion."
"It's just, I made a stop in Mystic Falls before heading up to New York."
"Was the Bennett witch still there?" Klaus asked, "And the Salvatores?"
"All there, doppleganger, a werewolf, the whole gang."
"And you couldn't rattle her into giving any clue for how to break this curse?"
"I couldn't get close enough to kill her either, although that one could go either way."
"Well, there's always next time."
"I did get some intel up in New York about this spell, but first you need to know about Mystic Falls."
"I've had more than my fill of Mystic Falls. I've wasted too much time already on that lot."
"The werewolf that hangs with the Salvatores and the Bennett witch. You ever meet him?"
"I heard they had one, but never saw the thing."
"And you didn't make the connection when you had a werewolf stumble into your home recently?"
Klaus froze. "No, it can't be."
"The wolf that hangs out with the Salvatores and the Bennet Witch, his name is Tyler Lockwood." Marcel said.
"You mean…"
"The Salvatores are looking for their missing friend. The Bennett witch, people say this girl was her best friend."
"They haven't put the pieces together yet?"
"They don't know she's here. But they'll figure it out soon enough. And when they do, they're coming here. Are you sure you don't want to just let the girl go?"
"That's out of the question."
"There are many of them and one of you."
"I've had worse odds."
"I know, buddy." Marcel said. "And you know how to call me if you suspect something's about go down."
"Your work finding a loophole comes first."
"About that…"
"You know something?" Klaus said.
"This girl, her bloodline is known for spells with tricky loopholes. They find a personality trait or a habit, something that is an important part of the person, and they bind that to the spell. Generally, to get out of this one, you have to become something you're not."
"I'm a thousand years old, I'm a bit set in my ways. How am I supposed to become someone I'm not?"
"It's usually one thing, something concrete, measurable. If you can figure what it is, it'll give you a chance to break the curse."
"And then I'll be free."
"Only then. Half the power is you're not supposed to know what the loophole is, and the other half is that it's going to be something that's totally against your nature."
"I love loopholes."
"Nature always finds a balance."
Klaus nodded and looked up at the walls that surrounded him.
"I've spent a year without looking up at the stars. Without beaches, without cities. I want it back."
"We'll get it back. But this girl…"
"What of her?" Klaus said.
"Do you really need to keep her here?"
"I'm not having this conversation."
"She's trapped, Klaus. She misses her friends. Did you know today was supposed to be her first day of college? Do you care?"
"Do you?" Klaus growled, glaring at Marcel "Have you decided to take something else that is mine, or are you satisfied with what you have taken in my imprisonment?"
"I don't want the girl. I don't care about her. But I know you do. And she's not happy here. It'll be worse once her friends come for her. When she finds out what you've done, she'll never speak to you again. Or worse, she'll use what she knows about you to help them."
"You don't know her."
"Neither do you. Be careful, Klaus."
"I think it's time for you to leave, Marcel."
Marcel nodded.
"There's a Bennett out in New Orleans. I've heard she has some distant relatives out in Oregon too. A few jumped the pond and are in your old stoping grounds. Wales, England, Scotland, Denmark, Finland. Can't really pin they, they're a bit more nomadic, the ones that are over there. But I'll track down someone with the Bennett bloodline. I'll find another way out of this."
"What are you waiting for, then?" Klaus said, a bit more cold than his usual genial tone with Marcel. "By all means, go."
"Never forget, I do this because I actually want you back in the world. Think about it, Klaus. If I was so content with you staying here, with me running the territories with out you by my side for guidance, I wouldn't be searching. Not this much."
"You remain the one person I've chosen to trust. Not my siblings. You."
"I know. And you're right to give me your trust. Now I'm going to go do exactly what I promised you."
"Until next time."
"I'm going to rattle some branches."
And then he did what Klaus envied so much. He left.
Klaus ran laps.
Sweat poured down his back.
Caroline ignored him again today.
He had to fix things. Everything felt so bottled up. One taste of her wasn't enough. Now he knew. He knew for sure, and not even Marcel would know about this one. The girl was his mate in every way. He thought he might die if she left, or worse, he would spend the rest of his life missing her. He could not imagine letting her go. He was growing weaker by the day, tormented by the want. The need. The desperation. He swore he could smell her across the room. He could hear her heartbeat. He could feel her skin when he closed his eyes. She was maddening.
Her blood snaked through his system and his mind was an endless loop of her.
This was different than any obsession. It wasn't something he motivated himself to do from sun up to sun down. It was all encasing. He dreamed her. He breathed her.
He ran laps.
More laps.
He ran until he couldn't stand.
He drank blood bags.
Then he turned on the shower and stepped in, trying to wash away all thought of her. The water kissed his skin and it was a lost cause. He closed his eyes and saw only her.
Behind his eyelids, Caroline appeared. She smiled.
A twitch shuddered through him as he let the steam envelop him and he imagined what it would have felt like to kiss her.
This one girl tormented him night and day.
His hand reached down and he was already hard.
He saw her behind his eyes. Caroline. Kissing him, touching him. She was undressing. She reached for him.
He let himself imagine it was her hand wrapped around him, that she was stroking him and murmuring her approval. He continued, growing more frantic.
Now she was on her back, sprawled out on his bed, completely naked. Her hand moved across her chest, caressing herself, dipping lower. She bit her lip and looked at him. Yes, yes, sweetheart, that's it.
He pictured her touching herself, hesitantly sliding a finger inside herself, looking to him for approval. He was so impossibly hard. It had been centuries since he had sex that was good as the mere image of her.
Now he pictured her whimpering, looking to him for help. She grasped his hand and took one finger in her mouth. He gasped out loud as he imagined her, using his hand for her own pleasure. She took his hand and slid it down her chest, pausing over her breast, then dragging it lower.
He imagined her whimpering, begging, as she brought his hand to her center, pleading with him to make her feel good.
He let himself imagine it. Slipping a finger inside her, feeling her shudder, letting her rock her hips up against him. Then she would cry out. She would pant. She would beg and beg, and then he would give her just what she wanted and she would scream out for him.
And with that he felt himself release, hand against the shower wall to steady himself.
"Gods", he murmured, catching his breath. "Is this what I've been reduced to?"
A thousand miles away, Marcel cracked the spine of a dusty old book. He knocked off some dust and poured over the latin text.
He flipped through the pages, then stopped and flipped back to a previous page.
He stared, mouthed the words in latin and rephrased them in his mind.
A nervous giggle escaped and he clamped a hand over his mouth.
The compelled librarian of the rare books room turned her head to the noise, her expression still placid and glazed.
He swallowed back the laughter, only to have it erupt again.
The book was tucked into his bag, and with one final shake of his head, he left.