Author's Note: Ugh. So that episode was a huge letdown. Hopefully this next chapter will make up for it. Once again, thank you all for your continued support. I know it's hard to be a part of the fandom these days, but I still really love you guys. Peace and love.
"She'll be with you shortly."
I nod, watching as the perky young blonde promptly exits the room, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone with nothing but my anxious thoughts and shaky nerves for company. Instead of taking a seat in one of the tufted, creme-coloured armchairs that perfectly accentuate the exuberance of the estate, I slowly pace around the layout of the dimly-lit study until I find myself standing at the large window overlooking the vast expanse of yard.
Perhaps this isn't such a good idea.
After all, Marion had been the one to set Aldous on my trail in the first place. It wasn't until after I had come to her with my "Cosima" problem that my sire finally managed to locate me after so many years; Aldous had said it was Marion who pointed him in the right direction, and here I am deciding to trust her now— again.
She helped me escape him once before.
Will she do it again?
"Delphine."
I'm so tangled in my thoughts that I don't immediately notice the door creak open and the bold, prowling lioness enter. It isn't until she speaks my name that I'm drawn back into the moment, whipping around to catch sight of her. She lingers in the doorway, an all-knowing smirk stretched across her features.
"I'd say this visit comes as a surprise, but—"
"We both know that's not true," I interrupt, finishing her thought.
Her smirk remains fixed, the threat of laughter looming behind her lips.
"We always did have such a perfect understanding of each other," she chimes, her head slightly cocked.
"Do we?"
I regard her suspiciously as she abandons her post in the doorway, stepping into the study and taking a seat in one of the armchairs. She holds two glasses of wine in hand, setting one down on the fine, oak coffee table. Instead of accepting her wordless offer of peace and hospitality, I hold my position by the window, watching her through narrow slits from across the room; I had come here to ask for help, but now seeing her in front of me, cool and confident, I forget about my initial purpose and am consumed by my anger, by my sense of betrayal.
"This is your fault," I say, finally speaking my mind. "You sent him after me."
"I did no such thing," she dismisses me casually over the rim of her glass.
"Don't lie to me, Marion!"
I take a harsh step forward, my aggression prompting her to set her drink down and finally acknowledge my wrath.
"Aldous told me you were the one who pointed him in my direction. Because of you, everything's gone to hell! Because of you—"
"Did you really think you could hide forever, Delphine?"
I stop, her question catching me off guard.
"We both know what kind of man Aldous is," she adds.
My entire body grows tense.
I'm not entirely sure where to direct my anger anymore— at her, for selling me out? At Aldous, for showing up and ruining everything? At myself, for not knowing better? Marion does have a point. I've always known what kind of man Aldous was, always known in the back of my mind that my break from him was far too… painless. I had walked away, and that had been the end of it.
Or so I had thought.
I had been so paranoid at first, constantly looking over my shoulder for any sign of him. I had secluded myself in Alaska for a time, sure that no one would find me so far north and in such a remote place. And after a while, when it appeared as though his presence wasn't lurking behind every shadow, I had left my palace of solitude and returned to the world. I had made sure to take precautions, to always tread carefully and keep a low profile, and yet even though it looked as though I had made a clean break after so many decades without a single word from him, a part of me still housed the fear that it had all come far too easy.
I was a fool to allow myself to be lulled into a false sense of security.
"Why?" I ask, my voice quivering as my emotions get the better of me.
I know Marion too well.
Even though she helped me all those years ago, I never doubted that she'd harboured some ulterior motive. Marion simply doesn't do things out of the kindness of her heart— there's always a plan with her, always a goal in mind. I never understood just why she decided to help me flee my sire's grasp, but I was never in any position to truly question it before.
But now?
Sending Aldous after me after going to such great lengths to hide me from him?
Bringing me back into the fold?
"I keep trying to understand why you'd sell me out. I know you must have some larger plan— so why? Where do I fit into all of this?"
It's the question I've been asking myself since Aldous first reappeared in my life.
"I'm so happy you asked."
Her smirk only spreads and she crosses her legs, reaching for her wine again and taking another sip. She seems pleased that I'm finally piecing together all the pieces of her puzzle— and coming to realize that I may just be the most prominent one.
"Come. Sit," she says, gesturing to the chair across from her.
Still seething, I try to reign in my anger as I drop in the armchair. It would be easy to lash out at her, but I sense that I'm so close to finally getting the answers that have eluded me for far too long and so I decided to forfeit my hostility in return for an explanation.
"Aldous is brilliant, there's no denying that. He's done a lot for our kind."
"But…?" I dare to ask, knowing full well that there's a catch to her assessment.
She sighs, almost wistfully.
"I'm afraid it's time for him to go."
Her answer hits me like a slap to the face. Without even saying a word, she's able to easily read my alarm by the stunned expression on my face, my eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping.
"Oh, please," she remarks, her tone dismissive. "You didn't come here just to call me out. You came here because you want the same thing."
She isn't wrong.
Still, I can't believe I'm hearing the words come from her mouth without any prompting on my part.
"And you need me to do it?" I counter, quickly jumping to her heavily-implied conclusion. "You're older. You'd have a better chance of killing him."
She shrugs, neither confirming nor denying my critique.
"Aldous doesn't entirely trust me anymore. I could tell by our last meeting— he's beginning to suspect I may be plotting against him. I doubt he'd let me close enough again to assassinate him," she explains.
I think back to our last meeting, to what Aldous had told Cosima; he had said that there were too many within his circle that still clung to old ideals, that they needed to be expunged if we were to move forward as a species.
"Not only that, but we're both from the same coven. If I killed him, there's no doubt the others would retaliate," she finishes her thought.
Of course.
"But I'm not a part of the coven anymore," I conclude.
"No, you're not."
Is that what this is all about?
Have Cosima and I become wrapped up in some power struggle between two clashing ideologies? Are we mere tools in this escalating war?
"So, you have me do all the dirty work," I mutter.
I wonder if that's all I've ever been— if that's all I'll ever be?
A weapon.
"I would have thought you'd be leaping for joy at the opportunity to terminate him yourself," Marion says, commenting on my suddenly somber demeanour.
I shake my head.
"If I kill him, like you said— the coven will retaliate. They'll come for me. They'll come for Cosima, too," I retort.
I'd be trading one enemy for another, and I'm not entirely sure I like my odds any better with the coven. I may no longer be a part of it, but the coven's rules are very strict and still ingrained in my mind.
An attack against one is an attack against all.
"I can make some assurances," Marion says, sensing my reservations.
I lift my gaze to meet hers.
"Most of us tend to think along the same lines. However, for those who are still in league with Aldous, their allegiance stems more from necessity rather than loyalty," she divulges. "The coven tolerates Aldous because he's brilliant. He's the science— the science we need to survive. But if there were someone else to take his place— someone just as brilliant but less conniving and narcissistic— I'm sure even those who still stand by the good doctor wouldn't mind having him replaced."
The clouds part, and I see the sky with crystal clarity.
"You want me to take his place."
My stomach churns.
Me? The Director of DYAD? I've been out of the picture for so long, I can't imagine throwing myself back into the thick of it. But then again, if I'm standing at the head of the beast, then I'll be able to call the shots; I'll be able to shape the program myself and distance myself from my sire's influence. Not only that, but I may actually be able to make the sun a reality for Cosima.
"If Aldous had his way, he'd wipe out the entire human population. We're more interested in maintaining a balance," she says, taking another drink from her glass.
There's no arguing with her there.
As anxious as I feel about stepping back onto the scene, about usurping Aldous, I know that it's a much better position to be in than the one I currently find myself in.
"I'll do it."
"Excellent!" she says with a burst of enthusiasm.
She raises her glass, waiting for me to do the same with the untouched glass of wine that still sits on the coffee table. I reach for it, reluctantly raising it until they clink together. I take a small sip and watch as she finishes her own.
"If you can guarantee that the coven won't retaliate, I'll become the director," I tell her.
"Of course."
If I'm going to do this, if I'm really going to kill Aldous and take his place, then I'm going to need to flesh out a bulletproof plan. As of right now, I can't think of a single way to dispatch him; attacking him head-on will surely lead to my demise, and even if I was slightly more covert about it and waited for the right moment to strike when his back was turned and his guard was down, chances are he'd still be fast enough to catch me before I could strike a finishing blow.
"I don't know how you expect me to kill him, though. He's far stronger than me," I muse. "Even if I could get close, there's no way I could overpower him."
Marion sets her empty glass down, her eyes twinkling as she offers me yet another wide, white smile.
"I think I may be able to help with that."
Once again, her words surprise me.
"You want to help?" I ask, my voice thick with skepticism.
"Well, you didn't think I'd set you up for failure, did you? I need assurances, just like you."
When I walk through the door, I light up to find her sprawled out on the sofa, her nose buried in one of my many books. She perks up the second she notices me, abandoning the novel and sitting upright.
"Hey," she greets me casually.
I can tell that she's happy to see me, though she doesn't want to be overly optimistic. After all, she has no way of knowing if I come bearing good news or bad.
"You're still here," I comment, removing my coat and then heading into the kitchen with my bag. "I half expected you to run off. I know you must be hungry."
Like her, I try to contain my optimism for I know how deadly it can be. While her control has grown, while our relationship has blossomed, at her core, the beast the lingers. I know the hunger of the beast better than anyone and so a part of me had expected to come home to an empty apartment despite my command for her to stay inside.
"It can wait," she dismisses, following me into the kitchen.
"No, it can't."
That much I know.
I unzip my bag, reaching inside to retrieve the blood bags that have been safely stored away— a parting gift from Marion.
"I know it's not as satisfying, but it will sate you for the time being," I tell her, finding a saucepan in the cupboard and beginning my ritual of emptying the packs into the pan so I can heat them to body temperature on the stove.
Much to my surprise, she disregards the blood in front of her.
"How did it go? Did she say yes?" she bombards me.
I nod slowly, emptying the last pack into the saucepan and turning the stove on.
"Geez. I'd think you'd be a little more enthusiastic," she mutters, absorbing my reserved expression. "You know, considering she agreed to get rid of your psycho sire for us."
I stare into the saucepan, my brow furrowed and thoughts clouded.
"I don't know. I'm not sure how I feel about the entire situation," I confess. "Even though she said she'd help, I'm still not quite sure how she expects me to take care of Aldous."
"Wait, she wants you to do it?" she asks incredulously, stepping closer. "I thought the whole point in going to her in the first place was to have her deal with him? No offence, but you said it yourself— he's in an entirely different league."
I turn around to face her, to meet her concern head-on.
"She said she has a way. I'm supposed to meet with her tomorrow night. She said she'll brief me, give me everything I'll need."
"And you trust her?" Cosima counters.
"What choice do I have?" I shrug.
Cosima sighs, rubbing the back of her neck.
"I don't like this, Delphine."
It seems my doubt is contagious. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt, tugging at it absently in a subtle display of anxiety. I walk over to her, finding her hand and gently slipping my own into it, my thumb tenderly brushing over her knuckles.
"I know," I concede. "But it must be done, ma cherie."
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth.
"But what if— what will I do if—"
I die?
Those are the words she's searching for— the ones she can't bring herself to utter. I suppose her fear is well-founded; if I fail, if I'm killed while trying to do this, then she won't live long enough to worry how she'll survive without me. Knowing Aldous, he'll come for her right after and with no allies left, she'll have nowhere to run.
I can't let that happen.
"Quiet now."
I silence her with a brief but gentle kiss, the gesture putting her mind at ease for the moment. I turn my attention back to the saucepan, the blood now at an acceptable temperature. I turn the stove off and retrieve mugs for the both of us to drink from, pouring into each cup.
"What's her price?"
"Hm?"
I lick my lips, wiping away the stain of crimson and offering her my full attention once more. Despite the hunger in her eyes, she's made no attempt to feed. The mug remains in her still hand, her expression deeply focused.
"You said before that there was no way she'd help unless you did something for her. What does she want?"
A part of me wants to shield Cosima from the truth, but I know there's no point in doing so now. We're both in far too deep not to trust each other completely, to share everything with each other. Any lapse in judgement, any piece of information withheld could be the difference between life and death for us.
"I'm going to take over DYAD."
"What?"
She sets her mug down on the countertop, brimming with surprise.
"She doesn't trust him, either. She wants him gone. She said she'd help me get rid of him on the condition that I take his place," I reveal. "He may be insufferable, but Aldous is one of the brightest minds we have. She said that we can't afford to lose one top mind unless we have a better one to replace it."
I laugh, draining the remnants of my mug.
"But you're done with all that— the science, the politics," she presses. "I mean, you've spent so long running from it. Do you really wanna dive back in?"
"Do I want to? No. Not really," I admit. "But if this is our way forward, then I must take it."
She seems unconvinced.
"Perhaps it won't be as bad as we think," I try to reason. "I'll be in a position to change things. I'll be the one calling the shots this time. I'll have to deal with the coven again, but it's better than dealing with him."
She stares down at the mug she's set aside. After some careful consideration, she reaches for it again, tipping her head back and downing it all in a few, steady gulps.
"But do you trust these people?" she asks, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
"The only one I trust is you," I answer without skipping a beat.
I offer her a small but reassuring smile.
Her expression softens.
"I suspect that won't ever change."
She sets the mug aside again and nearly throws herself into my arms, wrapping her own around me and holding on for dear life.
"I've got your back," she murmurs into my chest. "Just tell me what you need me to do."
I reach for her chin, tipping it upward so our eyes can meet.
"There isn't anything you can do at this point. It's all up to me, and whether or not Marion can come through."
She nods very slowly, digesting my words. I'm not sure she fully accepts them, but just doesn't press the issue any further. Instead she extends onto the tips of her toes so that her lips can meet my ear, her fingers toying with one of the buttons of my black button up.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Her whisper sends a deep tremor rolling through me and I can feel her lips tug into a grin against my ear.
"Come to bed with me."
She puts up no resistance as I pull her along, our hands yanking at fabric. We divest each other rather quickly and when I have her naked and pressed beneath me, all thoughts of Aldous and Marion and DYAD and the coven quickly fade away. I feel her mouth at my neck, fangs slowly unsheathing themselves and teasing at the sensitive flesh, drawing out a moan.
"I'm so hungry," she growls.
The desperation in her voice is so palpable that I can taste it in the thickening air. It sends a surge of wetness straight down to my core and as aroused as I am, I still cannot bring myself to throw caution to the wind.
"Still?" I ask, my voice cracking.
She had downed the blood I'd given her earlier in just a few gulps and while it wasn't enough to gorge herself, I had thought that it would be enough to satisfy her for the time being. When I pull my neck away from her attention long enough to stare down at her, our eyes meeting, I can see the deep, black hunger staring back at me— boring into me.
"I want yours."
My memory draws me back to that night at the club— the night where we'd finally made love again for the first time since I turned her. We had fed from each other which had spurred a transference; for a few, all-too-brief moments, there were no more barriers between us.
We were perfect.
Just as I always knew we could be.
Just as I knew, deep down, we always were.
"That feeling before… I wanna feel it again," she insists, craning her neck forward to find my mine again, scraping at me with her fangs.
My eyes roll back, a chesty moan slipping out. She slides a thigh between my own, the friction only fuelling my desire for her and weakening my ability to reason.
"I know you want it, too," she goads me.
God, do I ever.
Even with the threat of madness looming somewhere in the deep unknown, I cannot resist her siren's call. I tilt my head, exposing the expanse of flesh to her and without another word, she sinks into me. I cry out, steadying myself above her. I feel I might explode, smothered beneath the heat that grabs me in all of my most vulnerable, most sensitive places.
"Mon amour…"
I groan through gritted teeth, determined to hold on for a just a little longer, dangling from the edge of the cliff by the very tips of my fingers. When her vigorous mouth finally relents, she presses a kiss to the tiny puncture wounds left in her wake.
"You make me so wet," she whispers, knowing too well the effect such words have on me.
I roughly push her back down onto the mattress and she prepares herself for my onslaught, her eyes clamping shut and head tilting to welcome the sting of my bite. The corners of her lips tug upwards in their excitement and her back arches instinctively, enticing me even further. As I run my hand up the length of her body, up her stomach and ribs until I stop to palm one of her breasts, another idea slips into my head.
Instead of diving straight in for her neck, my lips begin to trail a path down her sternum, paying ample attention to her breasts, teasing at her nipples with the tip of my tongue and the gentle nip of my teeth in just the way she likes. I draw out her tiny sighs of appreciation before descending lower, licking and nipping at her toned stomach.
"What are you waiting for?"
When I look up at her again, she's staring down at me with anticipation. She hadn't expected me to take such a detour and I can tell that as much as she's enjoying my teasing, she's also mildly irritated that I'm drawing it out.
It's worth it, though.
When I grab her knees and roughly force her legs apart, holding her open as wide as she can go, she gasps loudly and I stare down lecherously at my prize. I lick my lips at the sight of her, spread open and glistening just for me.
"This," I tell her, lowering myself to her center.
Instead of going straight for her wetness, I pepper her inner thigh with languorous kisses. I can taste the faint hint of her arousal which has spilled over to stain her thighs and its enough to force my fangs out of hiding. As soon as she realizes my intentions, she throws her head back and grips the sheets tightly, preparing herself.
"Fuck!"
Her cry echoes loudly, ringing in my ears the second my fangs penetrate her flesh and find her femoral artery. The cavern of my mouth is flooded with her sweetness and when the first gushing wave slides down my throat, I feel a spark shoot through me, white hot and instant.
"Oh, God!" she chokes.
Just like before, I can feel her enter me in ways I can't quite describe. Like the thirsty roots of a tree, I eagerly welcome her— the signal shoots through the stem of my spinal chord, reaching all of my extremities and pouring colour back into the pale winter of my existence until I find myself in full bloom again.