Thanks to all who followed this story, put it to their favorites, as well as all who took the time to review: InfinityXIII, sarahkitsonx, Marianna Elizabeth, niamheternal, SilverMidnight, Angeena, JadeLeighCharmed, katarauchiha653719 and Guest. Love you all and thanks to anyone else who is reading :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries TV series or any of its characters; those belong to the CW network and all other respective owners. This is purely for entertainment.


Last time:

The wolf ripped free of its restraints as his bones snapped and shifted. The pain was welcomed. The monster growled, overwhelmed by the pure instinct of bloodlust and hunger. When he was the wolf, he never had to feel the hurt, the grief, the pain, the loneliness and in that, he found relief. The beast growled, charging toward the open window and launching out of it, its paws welcoming the feeling of the fresh dirt and grass; it savoured the scent of the fresh leaves and the cool night breeze on its fur. Howling, it took off into the dark forest, promising death to all whose path it might happen to cross.


Chapter 3: Old Abode

Miranda looked around her, feeling awfully unsure of herself. She tightened her grip on the package that had been entrusted to her, thinking back to that odd man that she had bumped into. Taking deep breaths in a hope to calm herself down, she kept walking, somehow finding herself unable to stop. The night breeze made the hair on the back on her neck stand on end, but maybe that would be better credited to the fact that she was walking through the thick forest in the middle of the night on her own. The moon hung full at the peak of the night sky, its weak illumination providing no comfort. Her shoes were thick with mud now, squelching when she moved and making her trek a slow and tiring one. Finally, she broke through the tree line and came face to face with the grand estate. Its walls were as white as the snow and it stood taller than any of the other houses back in town. The front and back lawn – or rather, fields looking at their size – were thick with lush green grass and carefully pruned bushes, complete with the bright splash of colour from clusters of flowers here and there. Despite the photogenic sight though, it brought chills down Miranda's spine. The stories around the place in the last few years were already more than all that surrounded the entire town in her whole history. Everything in her screamed for her to turn back, but her feet moved forward anyway, disregarding her own will.


Kol stumbled out of the car, pulling his bag with him. He slammed the door behind him, looking back in through the window at the driver.

"Leave and forget that you ever saw me."

The driver nodded slowly, sniffing slightly from being made to drive through the whole night. The Original had decided to spare the man for his efforts; he could get his meal elsewhere. He watched the vehicle pull away and disappear down the road, a faint cloud of black smoke trailing behind it. To be honest, he was awed by the progress of the car; it was so much faster, more comfortable and quieter. He had even allowed himself to sleep on the ride – after ascertaining time and time again that the driver was compelled enough to be trusted to not have a stake to stab him – and was thankfully now relieved of the headache that had descended upon him from the alcohol. He turned to the mouth of the road leading to his destination, grinning at the sight.

New Orleans: His home away from home.

He towed his bags behind him, his memory pulling up the map of the town layout. The city had changed over the years. Gone were the days of the horse-drawn carriages, the shipping yards, the black top hats and dirt paths. Now, the buildings stood tall with elaborate designs, the roads – which were made of tar and smooth for once – were occupied by sleek vehicles more numerous than he had ever seen, and most of all, there were lights everywhere. Signs in front of shops and billboards were lit up in bright neon colours and the city was bustling despite the early hour. Kol had left the Mikaelson manor at about nine the night before and had then ran – at vampire speed of course – for about four hours before burning out and compelling himself a ride. That had in turn lasted five hours, landing him on the doorstep of New Orleans at six in the morning. There was already a crowd forming on the streets though. Throwing the strap of his bag over his shoulder, Kol walked in the general direction of the old Mikaelson mansion. He took note of the people bustling about, looking for a target. He spotted a lean female who looked to have just started her day. Without paying much heed, he walked over to her, catching her gaze.

"Follow."

The girl's eyes widened, blinking at him blankly before she slowly followed after him. When they got a considerable distance away from the rest of the population, Kol stopped. The darkness was not providing much cover but the Original was not bothered. He felt his fangs grow and blood surge to his eyes as he let the bloodlust take over. He sank his teeth into the woman's neck, the blood surging out of the wound.


Miranda stared at the brass door knocker for a moment before gingerly lifting the heavy metal and letting it hit the door a few times. Half a breath later, the heavy ornate door swung open, a blonde male standing on the other side. His tousled hair was slightly curled, his eyes a light shade of blue and his gaze hard, as if he were hiding something. His skin was pale, and it looked almost ghostly in the faint light from the moon. Miranda swallowed the shudder that threatened to rise. The man was well-built, with sharp features and was dressed rather casually, in a simple black shirt and trousers. He frowned when he saw her, his blood-red lips quirking slightly.

"Hello love, and what would you be doing here in this hour?"

Miranda stuttered for a moment before speaking.

"I was told to give you this package."

Miranda stretched out her hand, offering the parcel to the man. He raised a questioning brow at her, not making a move at the parcel at all.

"And what would that be?"

"I don't know what is inside. But I'm supposed to give it to you."

The man smirked then, an understanding light in his eyes as if he had figured something out.

"Very well then."

He carefully took the box and tore off the seal. It contained nothing but a single, folded sheet of paper. His brows furrowed for a short moment and Miranda watched as he gingerly picked up the note and opened it. His sky blue eyes scanned the page quickly before a genuine smile formed on his features.

"Come here, love."

Miranda took one tentative step toward the intimidating man, feeling more scared than she had ever been in her whole life. Then the most horrifying thing happened: the man's eyes grew red before turning black, the whites disappearing. The veins around his eyes surged with blood until their shade equalled that of his soulless eyes. Fangs, sharp and lethal, grew as too-strong hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him. Miranda felt a sharp pain in her neck as she struggled to no avail. Her skin felt as if it were burning, the flame growing hotter the more she struggled to break free. Then, her world went dark.


The woman's body dropped to the ground, her skin sunken and ghastly pale. Kol licked the blood off his lips, checking himself for blood stains; he had never been a messy eater. He grabbed the body and towed it after him, casually disposing of it deep in the neighbouring forest. He then proceeded to the mansion, carrying his bag. It was evident that the place had been abandoned, yet there was still an air of grandeur surrounding the estate. The ivory-white walls had dulled over the century, moss and vines growing up its elaborate sides. Some of the windows dotting the walls were shattered, the culprits most likely the bravest of the children or victims of dares, while the survivors were coated in thick layers of dust. The thick wooden door had lost its design, the weather and termites having had eaten away at it. Both the front and back lawns had overgrown weeds and all sorts of wild plants inhabiting them, and the entire structure creaked when the wind blew. The infamous home had gained quite a reputation back in the days when its residents were people – or what everyone had thought anyway – rather than the small animals and vegetation of today, with enough stories circulating around it to write a fairly decent book. Now, Kol had no doubt that the number must be growing exponentially. The old abandoned mansion of the mysterious family, the residents of which having had disappeared without rhyme or reason, the big old house that was never sold or torn down despite its desolation. Oh, Kol could think of quite a few reasons why the place may well be the town's local ghost house.

He carefully pushed the front door open, holding back his strength before stepping inside. While the interior of the house had been spared the lashes of the weather, it had suffered just as much. Every surface – flat or otherwise – was covered in layers of dirt and dust, broken pieces of exquisite vases and china strewn on the wooden floor, cracking when the Original stepped on them. The paintings that had adorned the pure white walls had been shredded, their remnants left to the mercy of the mice and moths. Chandeliers held candles that had long since stopped burning, the wax having had dripped carelessly over the once-shiny metal.

Kol wandered around the house, unsure of his purpose here. He never got to see the end of this particular ghost story; Nik had daggered him and shoved him in a box. Kol ended up in front of his old room, pushing the door open and startling a family of mice back into their hole. Oddly enough, while his room had not been spared the dust and vermin invasion, nothing else had been touched. It seemed like an oddity compared to the rest of the house that looked like a hurricane had blown through. Kol flitted around the room but found nothing of use. He eventually left and drifted off to another part of the house, a broken window drawing his attention. He rolled his eyes, mildly annoyed by the pranksters. As he got closer though, he realised something rather peculiar. First of all, there was an obvious lack of projectiles anywhere near the broken window and unless they had thrown food or ran up and bodily hit the glass – which would involve a tricky climb to the second floor – , there would have been no way that the window was assaulted by mere children. But what really perplexed the Original was the stunning lack of glass. Kol moved over to the windowpane, fingering the rotted wood. A loud creak from the wood underneath him sent him jumping out the hole instinctively. Sure, even if the building collapsed on him, it would not do much harm but the level of dust, debris and who-knows-what would make for a horrible clean-up job. He'd rather just let the building die on its own.

He landed in a lithe crouch, unscathed, before rising to begin his trek back to civilization. That was when he heard the distinct crack of glass breaking under feet. He looked down and sure enough, glass littered the grass, easily spotted as they reflected the light of the rising sun. Realization dawned on him. The house had never been attacked by curious children on some boring afternoon; it had been destroyed from the inside, by the very people that had been living in it – his family.


Klaus dumped the woman further into the woods, coming back into the manor a few moments later. Rebekah was settled on the couch, looking up when she spotted her brother returning.

"And what was that all about?"

Klaus smiled, holding out the paper that he had in a vice-grip on in his right hand.

"Kol is in town."

Rebekah's eyes widened, her delicate brows furrowing before the information sank in and glee overtook her. Kol was back! The last she had seen of him was about eight hundred years ago and to be honest, she missed her cheeky older brother.

"Let me see that!" Rebekah exclaimed, leaping to her feet and materializing in front of her brother in a heartbeat. She snatched the sheet of paper – which was almost ripped in half in her haste – and quickly scanned though it, her lips curling into a smile as she read through her brother's greeting. She realized then that she had not truly known exactly how much she had missed him.

"P.S. Enjoy the treat," Rebekah read aloud, rolling her eyes before sparing a quick glance at Niklaus who shrugged nonchalantly. Give it to him to take the remark so literally.

"Where is Elijah?" Rebekah asked all of a sudden, eager to share the good news.

"Last I heard, he was heading into town."

"When will he be returning?" Rebekah pressed on, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Patience love, you can count on our dear brother to be home before midnight. You can tell him then." Niklaus smiled charmingly, patting her on the shoulder, "I'm sure he will be thrilled."

Rebekah grinned in response before disappearing to her room with the precious note. Niklaus was not surprised; she had been extremely close to Kol when they were human. He was closest to her in age and while maturity brought Elijah and him to begin in their quest to conquer swords and hunting, Kol somehow fell into the role of Henrik and Rebekah's guardian, caring for them in his own way. It was only later when Henrik was gone, they had been turned and Kol had grown distant, that she had grown closer to the two of them but Nik had always known that she secretly missed the old days. His brother's arrival would be good; their family could come together again, apart from Finn of course whom he was secretly bringing around in a coffin. It was about time his brother returned to them.


Kol walked slowly away from the old mansion, still questioning his motives of going there in the first place. He knew what he had come here to do though – he was looking for help. By the time he got to town, the sun was just about to reach its apex in the sky. Kol walked along the pavement, trying to adjust to the new setting. The city had changed, but it had also stayed the same. While the buildings have grown taller, the technology better, the roads smoother and the people busier, it was still essentially the same. The spirit of the town, as cliché as it sounded, had never been destroyed or defiled by development. Kol continued walking along the path, eventually finding the squat house that he had been looking for. He paused at the doorstep, attempting to listen in on the conversations going on inside. Surprisingly though, he could.

The Original frowned, knocking three times on the wood before taking a step back to wait. There was light shuffling on the other side before the door swung open and a middle-aged redhead poked her head out, her flaming hair a matted mess and her lips pursed, as if irritated by the interruption. Her glare melted away into a faux smile the moment she spotted him though.

"Hello! Can I help you?" she asked, subconsciously taking two steps towards him and leaving the door a little too open.

"Hello darling, what's your name?"

"Jenny Adams."

Kol frowned, though he smoothed his features back into an emotionless mask before she noticed anything.

"Adams? Well Jenny, how long has your family been living in this house?"

The redhead looked confused by the random question before replying easily.

"I think my parents moved in here about fifty or sixty years ago."

"And may I ask where did the family before you go?"

Another frown before a reply came. Kol listened carefully to her heartbeat, just to make sure she was not lying.

"Oh, they never met them. The house was left vacant for a long time, sometime in the early 1900s I think. Folks that lived around those times called it haunted or whatnot so no one moved in until mum and dad came to town."

"Thank you for your time."

Kol turned to leave, ignoring the woman calling after him for a reason he could not be bothered with. He had been looking for an old friend, or rather her descendants – a witch that he had been good friends with before he was daggered; she would have been able to break the link spell. Now that was clearly a dead end. He would have to track where they had gone. It was just past noon now, and the streets were getting swamped with office workers heading out for lunch.

He continued moving forward before ducking into an alley and grabbing a young man who had wandered a little too close to him. He figured he could try his luck.

"Do you know where the Lightwood family left to? They were here in the early 20th century."

The man looked at him like he had just sprouted another head.

"I don't know what you're talking about, man!"

Kol heaved a sigh of frustration, before compelling the man's memories away and shoving him aside as he disappeared back out on the streets. When he reached the next alley, he had yet another office worker pinned against a wall, once again reaching no useful conclusion. Five alleys later, Kol had pinned down a squat, professional-looking woman who looked utterly terrified when he grabbed her.

"Hello darling, would you happen to know where the Lightwood family went? They were last seen in the early 20th century."

The woman seemed almost relieved from the question, before answering in the mechanic voice that was symbolic of the compelled.

"I don't know who they are but you could check the library. The town's records are stored in there."

"Library?"

"Yeah, actually, I work there. It's the three-story building right down the street. It has windows for most of the walls on the top two floors, there's a brown sign in front of it, and it's alone in the middle of a field... It stands out from the rest of the buildings in this area; you can't miss it."

Kol nodded along, library it was then. He swiftly compelled her memories away before disappearing down the way she had pointed out.


Kol pushed the door open and was hit by a wave of cold air. He instinctively drew back slightly, unfamiliar with the odd sensation before ascertaining that it was harmless and cautiously heading inside. The building was huge, the walls lined with towering shelves of books of every size and colour. The interior was decorated in a sky blue tone and the floor was carpeted in a darker shade of the same colour. More book shelves stood in neat rows, forming aisles where the occasional book avid could be spotted. The entire room was brightly lit by an abundance of long sticks attached to the ceiling that Kol recognised as fluorescent bulbs. There was a counter on his right where a woman dressed in a maroon uniform was settled, clicking some buttons on what looked like a board and entirely focused on a flat black object that was standing vertically. Kol spied the name tag on her vest and moved over, a smirk in place.

"Hello, I would like to ask how I can check the town records."

The woman paused and looked up at him, a practiced smile on her face.

"Good afternoon sir, you can use the station over there. Please feel free to approach any members of our staff if you have any queries."

"Thank you."

Kol turned away from the counter and headed over to the 'station', unsure as to how the receptionist expected him to find almost three hundred years worth of records – if you were to take the town's whole history into account – in what looked to be a meagre set-up of a table, a chair with wheels attached to it – oddly enough – and one more of those sets of black boards with buttons all over one of them.

Kol glared at the blasted object, frustrated. What was with modern people and these stupid slabs? His head snapped over to the side when he heard someone approach him, the footsteps loud to him despite the soft carpeting of the library floor. He swiftly reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, rewarding him with a gasp and an enticing jump to his victim's heart rate. She opened her mouth to say something but by the time he had turned her to face him, had apparently thought better of it and clamped her mouth shut. Kol examined his catch clinically and was pleasantly surprised when he realized she was another employee.

Over the years, or rather, centuries, Kol had met a lot of people and there were exactly two types of reactions he got. The first was awe and fascination, whether that may be due to his more-than-charming appearance or otherwise. Kol supposed that it was only natural for the human race to be so driven by such primal instincts, and indeed how quickly they fall for such superficial traits. The second, usually produced by people with slightly more sense, was fear. Just as the deer naturally flees from the lion, some instinct in them, no matter how minute, warns them that he was dangerous and they shrink back away from him. The problem with that though, was that that just made him hungry. In the case of this teenager, it was the latter; the moment she set eyes on him, her eyes clouded with what could only be fear, and she bodily flinched away from him. Kol felt an odd vibe coming off of her and on closer examination, he felt like there was something else under the fear in her eyes.

"I have not done anything, I swear! I have broken none of the laws."

Kol scowled in confusion before he successfully identified what he was getting off the girl. Most would not feel it but he was well-accustomed with their kind: witch. He supposed she was not a descendant of the Lightwood line though; they would not fear him – he had sworn his loyalty to them a long time ago.

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you, darling."

The child – because that was exactly how old she was compared to him – suddenly grew enraged, as if something had just occurred to her.

"We're not in the Quarter..." she murmured, more to herself than to him, before looking up with renewed agitation, "Don't play with me blo— vampire. Did Marcel send you? I have no business with him. While we may submit to him in the Quarter, this is not his terrain."

Kol chuckled lightly to himself, shaking his head.

"I'm not acquainted with this Marcel character to be honest. All I wanted was to ask how to check the town records. I've been... away of sorts."

The teenager flushed an interesting shade of red, before regaining her composure and growing angry again. Kol could not help but feel a little amused.

"You're a vampire, aren't you? Don't lie to me! Marcel rules over your race in these parts. If you aren't with him than you would be dead."

"Logically speaking, I'm already dead. And honestly, I doubt this Marcel can do anything to me actually. You must be new to the supernatural world or surely you would have heard of me. So let me introduce myself, Kol Mikaelson, Original vampire."

The girl's jaw dropped, staring at him in shock as she struggled to find the right things to say. Kol smirked, narrowing his eyes in what he knew was a particularly predatory manner.

"So, who's the Big Bad Wolf now?"


Kol ran his hand over the spines of the books lined up neatly on the shelf, shifting his weight to get more stability on his precarious perch on the rickety tower of chairs that had an old, currently creaking, table for a foundation. Honestly, he still could not bring himself to believe that the ladder that usually allowed employees to reach the upper shelves was conveniently missing. The girl must really hate him, or at the very least, not like him. She had not looked very convinced that he was not a subordinate of Marcel and must be deliberately making things difficult for him. Fine for him though, he did not like her all that much either.

"Are you done? You aren't supposed to be here you know. It's an 'Employees Only' area."

The redhead was glaring daggers at him from where she was standing, hands crossed over her chest.

"Well darling, if you had just relented and taught me how to use that commuter outside then we would not be in this mess now, would we?

"It's 'computer'."

"I don't care."

Kol felt rather than saw the girl roll her eyes, his attention still focused upon the books – records from who knows how long ago – before him.

"Oh and no, I'm not about to waste my time trying to teach you things I don't even believe you don't really know."

"Oh and I just happened to want to dig through books instead."

That shut her up for a while but the blessed silence did not last long.

"Are you do—"

Kol grabbed a thick volume out of the shelf and tossed it carelessly onto the table in the center of the petite archives room. Without waiting a beat, he leaped off his perch and charged straight at the girl, his hand shooting out to clamp around her throat. The teenager paled a few shades, her eyes wide and fearful. She must not be all that accustomed to exactly how quickly a vampire's mood could turn.

"You're tiring me, child. You will do well to remember that I can kill you and I will kill you. So don't test me." The grip on her throat tightened slightly and she could not help but claw hopelessly at his hand. "Do you understand?" She nodded as much as she could, noting that she was producing a pitiful croaking sound, and he released her, stalking back over to the table to retrieve the book.

"I'll be taking this with me but no need to worry, I actually know what a library is for once and I'll return it once I've found what I'm looking for."

The girl opened her mouth to say something but seeing as how the new bruise on her neck was already beginning to purple, deflated and kept whatever she was about to say to herself. Kol paused right in front of her, staring at her in a way that was making the girl feel immensely uncomfortable. He narrowed his eyes then and shrugged, his smirk back in place.

"There's something familiar about you... What's your name, darling?"

"Lynette Jane Kelly."

Kol rolled his eyes, as if he were speaking to a fool.

"Your witch line, dear. You are a witch right?"

Understanding dawned on Lynette's features before she seemed to shrink back a little, as if remembering the result of the last time she had shot her mouth off.

"Yeah but I'm not a very good witch though. And it's Ambrose."

Kol stared at her for a moment before heaving a theatrical sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, shaking his head.

"Well this changes things."

"What?"

"You're coming with me."

For once, Lynette did not look angry or irritated. Instead, she was totally flabbergasted.

"Wait, what?!"

"You said Marcel was hunting you, correct? Then you have to come with me."

"I don't—"

Kol grabbed her arm brusquely before towing her out of the room, her desperate attempts to dig her heels into the ground failing rather predictably. Lynette felt rage surge through her, even as she glared at the back of the Original's head. Then something snapped and Kol winced, whipping back around and scowling at her.

"Please don't do that. I do not need to feel any more inclined to kill you."

Lynette focused harder but the shock had worn off and all she got for her efforts was Kol shutting his eyes in exasperation.

"I am more than a thousand years old Lynette and I have been around witches for more than half of that time. Do you really think you can hurt me?"

Lynette scowled, looking – to Kol anyway – like an angry puppy, all bark but no bite.

"Fine, but at least let me walk on my own."

Kol let go of her, silently warning her with his less-than-friendly gaze that if she tried to run, something very bad would happen to her. For a while, they walked in silence, Kol lagging behind to keep her in his sight. She was not amused.

To Lynette's eternal credit, and unfortunately, as she would decide later, stupidity, when they were skimming on the edge of the more populated area of the library, she bolted, abruptly yelling at a colleague and garnering the attention of the entire floor's occupants. She heard some of the visitors murmur things along the lines of crazy and being inconsiderate as well as curses that she would rather not repeat, and physically saw her co-workers gaping at her as if she had just declared that she was going to blow up the building. Her superior's face stood out the most and Lynette could already tell that she was fired. But who cared about their job when a crazy, homicidal vampire was after you anyway? She knew she was dancing on a fine line though; she would not think it beneath Kol to murder everyone here, he was after all, definitely capable of it and did not look like he tagged much value to life.

"Miss Kelly! What do you think you are doing?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Mister Johnson."

"You better have a good reason for this. See me in my office!" the short, grumpy looking man roared before hurrying over to the counter and announcing his apology to the floor, which went back to whatever it was that they had been doing before. Lynette hurried after the man, turning back just before the door to the office shut behind her.

She had no idea why but she spotted him immediately, standing at the edge of the slowly dispersing crowd. He looked almost... amused, as if he had been expecting nothing less from her than to run. Then, she saw a flash in his eyes as they grew dark, and though he did not show them, she knew that sharp fangs must have extended behind his casual smirk. The door swung shut, blocking her vision for half a second before she got a smaller view of the room outside through the rectangular glass pane in the door. She spent a short moment scanning the crowd but in true vampiric fashion, Kol was gone.


Lynette pushed the employees' door open, sighing heavily. Fairly expectantly, she had been fired, since she did not after all have a good reason to have yelled in the library. Also, someone had apparently seen her leave the archives with a distinctly not-employed-at-the-library male. And hence, here she was now in the back alley of her former workplace having nothing but curses for Mister Kol Mikaelson. Lynette grumbled to herself, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. That was when she first felt it, an odd sensation that there was someone near her. Maybe it was her fledgling witch instincts kicking in because her feet started walking a lot faster than usual. She thought that she would hear footsteps quicken up behind her but all that greeted her was silence among the nagging feeling that she was being followed. She was about to dismiss her qualms to nerves left over from meeting one of the oldest vampires earlier in the day when she was grabbed and thrown into the brick wall, her bag sliding off her shoulder and her head throbbing as it impacted the concrete.

"Lynette Jane Kelly, witch of the French Quarter, you have been found to have practiced magic today and to have left the Quarter four days ago without authorization. Marcel wishes to see you," a tall solemn looking man deadpanned, looking very much like he had been doing this for far too long. He was donned in a long brown trench coat that trailed behind him like a cloak. His hair was shaggy and his features angular, giving him a menacing look. Another man and a woman flanked him on his left and right respectively, the same, almost robotic manner to how they stood. The woman, a blonde dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, smiled and Lynette could see her fangs in the faint moonlight. Lynette looked between them, feeling a longing for the open street just a few feet from where she was. With the trio of vampires in front of her though, she might as well have been on the other side of the country.

"Please don't resist us. Things don't need to get any messier."

The man – clearly a vampire – approached, driving her to the wall. Lynette could hear her heart hammering in her chest, and to her dismay, she knew they could too.

"So much tension."

All four of them froze, the vampires with the help of their enhanced senses, turning in unison to the same direction. None other than Kol Mikaelson stood before them, leaning against a wall and nonchalantly toying with his fingers, as if the entire situation was immensely boring to him. Much to Lynette's chagrin, she felt relieved.

"And who would you be to question Marcel's rules?"

Kol looked up from his inspection of his cuticles, shrugging.

"Oh go ahead and kill her. Don't mind me."

Lynette gaped at him, unable to help but feel a little betrayed. The female member of the group broke off, approaching the Original cautiously.

"Who are you? Did Marcel send you? Does he not trust us?"

Kol looked pleasantly amused, that damned smirk still playing across his features.

"Oh no no, you are entirely mistaken, darling. I just happened to be passing by though I have been told that I look horribly like someone working with you. What fool would make such an assumption though... Honestly, I have never been much of a joiner."

"Then what business do you have here, outsider?"

Kol shrugged, sparing a glance at Lynette and tilting his head to one side, as if he were asking her a question. The blonde seemed to notice his distraction, turning to face Lynette before scowling.

"The witch? She belongs to the Quarter."

Kol grinned then, spreading his arms out in front of him.

"I was looking for someone and I must have mistaken her for someone else. My apologies for ruining your fun, I'll be leaving now."

Lynette gaped at him, dumbfounded, even as she watched him glide – because that was exactly how he was moving – past them and head towards the haven of the street. Desperation surged through her.

"Help me!" she hissed under her breath, though everyone could still hear her. The Original paused, but did not turn back.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry, okay? I've been living in fear all my life and they killed my brother and I—"

Lynette could feel the hot sting of tears in the back of her eyes, a product of the cocktail of anger, rage and despair that was coursing through her. She blinked them back.

"Stop this nonsense, witch. Your kind has given us so much trouble. If Marcel were not so merciful, we would have wiped you all out," the leader hissed, baring his fangs.

Lynette shrunk back against the wall. Kol would not help her, why would he help her? After all, she was the one who had ran from him just a few hours ago. And now she was going to be executed by Marcel, just like Henry. The woman walked forward toward her, moving to restrain her when the silence was once again broken.

"Fair enough."

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. One moment the female vampire was just inches away from her, reaching to grab her hands. The next moment, she had been flung like a rag doll toward the other end of the alley. A whirlwind of colour shot after her, jerking the vampire to a premature halt as her body fell to the ground, her heart casually discarded next to her. Blood soaked through her clothes and pooled sickeningly around her. Before any of them had time to recover, the other male, who had not spoken through the entire confrontation, was yanked to the side and away from Lynette, a single swipe separating his head from the rest of his body as he crumpled to the ground in a messy heap. The third and final survivor of the trio was grabbed by the collar before being slammed hard into the asphalt, a black combat boot secured on his neck. He flailed and struggled against the suffocating hold but it was obvious who was stronger.

"And now you've made me make a mess."

Kol shook his head chidingly, staring disinterestedly at his bloody hands. Lynette shrunk back further into the wall, absolutely terrified by what she had just witnessed. For all she had seen of him during that short massacre, if she had not already known, she would not even have been able to tell who it was. He was so fast, powerful, brutal and lethal. But what scared her though, was how little he seemed to care, how he could maintain that snide little smirk even as he wiped his bloodied hands on the younger vampire's jacket, the latter too fearful to say or do anything in return. He was like a fallen angel, beautiful but deadly.

And this scared her to death.

Kol pulled his foot away from the vampire's neck and the latter immediately shot back up to his feet, and fled. Before he got even a foot away though, he was grabbed and jerked back, slammed mercilessly into the wall as if Kol had intended to do that all along but was simply too lazy to bend over and lift him up himself. The younger vampire was shell-shocked, eyes wide in terror and breathing growing uncharacteristically rapid and shallow. The shock of what had happened to his friends must have worn off; all that was left now was pure, unadulterated horror.

"What are you?" His voice wavered, his fear seeping through and becoming obvious even to Lynette.

Kol's face lit up in a crooked smile, his eyes sparkling in whatever sick pleasure this was giving him.

"Older than you, obviously. You know, I did not quite appreciate your comment about witches. I happen to hold quite a high regard for them, ran with different covens for about six hundred years."

The man's eyes widened with renewed fear, as realization dawned on him.

"You're an Ori—"

Then rather abruptly, Kol struck, baring his fangs and sinking his teeth into the jugular of the younger vampire. He screamed, writhing to no avail before he was just as abruptly released. Lynette caught a short glimpse of the Original in his full vampire glory and it was like nothing she had ever seen before. She had seen other vampires with their fangs extended of course, the veins around their eyes their signature charcoal black, but for Kol, whether it may be due to his age or lineage, while his eyes had gone black, the veins around them had not despite becoming more pronounced. Maybe no two vampires had exactly the same visage, but she had not thought of that – until now. His features relaxed back into their normal state, the vampire once again grinning, as he wiped the little blood that had trickled down his mouth off with the back of his hand. He then proceeded to wipe it on the other man's jacket.

"Very good. Now, listen to me very carefully," Kol purred, his voice smooth as silk, "You will return to Marcel and you will tell him this, 'Your hunting party is dead. The witch is under protection from a man you do not want to meet and if you try to go after her again, you'll join your friends in hell.' Then, you will kill yourself. Oh and once you leave this alley, you will forget you ever saw me. Goodbye now."

The man blinked slowly before turning robotically and leaving, not seeming to realise that thanks to Kol, he was covered in blood. The only two people left from the confrontation remained silent, both watching the vampire slowly leave the alley and turn down the street. Kol finally turned to look at her, growing serious.

"Three vampires died today because you had the audacity to run from me earlier. You should be ashamed."

"I—" Lynette was about to rebut but saw the truth in his words. They had died because she had ran. Now, why in the world was she feeling guilty over her assailants' deaths?

Kol watched her for a moment before sighing, dragging the remains of the decapitated male to the end of the alley, where he dumped it next to the female. He then pulled a lighter from his pocket and set the bodies on fire.

"You really need to do something about your poor education in witchcraft, darling. When Danielle was your age, she could have dropped more than three times that number of vampires. I've seen her do it."

Kol's voice broke Lynette out of her reverie, her head snapping up to look at him. She realised that her vision was blurry; she had started crying without her notice.

"Danielle?"

"Danielle Mary-Ann Ambrose, an ancestor of yours. A powerful witch she was, even though the last I saw of her was when she was sixteen years old."

"She's my great-grandmother. My grandma used to tell me stories about her."

"Well I knew her. In fact, she was a very good friend of mine."

Danielle wiped away the remaining tears from her eyes, focusing instead on the conversation. If she could find out why he seemed so obsessed with her, maybe she would not be so afraid of him.

"How old are you, exactly?"

Kol rolled his eyes, the light from the blaze reflecting off his features and turning his brown hair golden.

"I'm twenty-one actually but if you have to get all technical about it, then I'm a thousand and nineteen, including the dull human years."

As if he were satisfied with how the fire was burning, he turned away from it and walked over to her.

"This is not a place to talk, if you still do not believe me then feel free to leave but don't expect me to help you the next time someone comes after you. Otherwise, come with me."

Kol started walking away from her, heading out of the alley. Lynette watched him for a moment, her eyes straying to the splatters of blood on the walls and ground. He was dangerous; following him would be stupid.

But not following would be suicide.

And with that, Lynette felt her feet move forward even as she started after him, the flame cackling behind her.