I could not cry out. I could not call her name. I could not move. I could not feel. I was numb, listening to the terrifying radio drama of my deepest fears realized.

There were several short screams and shouts. The unmistakable tableau of metal rending in two. Glass shattering. Tires screeching across pavement. It was a confusing cacophony and yet ever sound filtered into my ear with unforgiving clarity.

Then silence.

Then...the strains of Jim Croce filling the nothingness. A song I knew well. The radio was still on the last channel I had set it.

A wolf's growl grew to a furious crescendo. Artie.

Gun shots.

No sound from Caroline. None.

And then- "Wake up!"

Caroline. No prayer in the Old Tongue beseeching Odin for help would have held so much feeling as her name.

Snarls. "Not me, you idiot! Them!"

More than one.

The sound of scrambling. Fighting. What seemed like hours compressed into a mere minute. Or was it eternity?

And she screamed, long and loud.

No.

No no no no no no no NO NO NO-

"CAROLINE!"

My roar came from places I thought long dead, stamped out with Mikeal's death. But no, it was still there, still choking me, still consuming all rhyme and reason—The sound echoed off of the bridge I was under, reverberating my agony.

I was gone but half an hour. Thirty insignificant minutes to attain the file of information from my contact.

There was a crunch and nothing. I looked. I crushed the mobile. I hurled it from me. It exploded against the stone pillar beside me. "Get to the car!" I snarled, my eyes blazing and my fangs bared. "Now!"

We flashed. In seconds we were in the SUV, driving hellbent down the road at breakneck speeds. It was too far to run, though my legs ached with the need to do so. I had to get to her. I had to protect her. I had to make the world bleed as I gutted it.

We barreled past the house in direction of the university. My claws shredded the seat.

We heard the alarm before we saw the flashing lights of a parked car on the side of the street. "Stop!"

We screeched to a halt. I was out of the car before it stopped. There, on the pavement, was a body. For one horrifying moment I thought it was Caroline. But no, it was male. A werewolf.

I kicked over his body. He was missing a heart, the gaping hole in his chest a ragged void. The smell of his blood mingled with another. The car itself was crumbled on the side and the windshield was cracked beyond repair.

My heart squeezed. There was blood smeared along the side of the automobile, a dull glint in the LED streetlight. Eyes wide, lips pressed together lest some sound betrayed me, I stepped closer to look at it. Caroline. It had to be Caroline's blood. A great deal of it.

Minutes earlier...

I didn't black out. I felt the impact. I heard the squeal of our tires as the car spun and tilted dangerously. Artie's phone flew through the air and hit me square on the cheek. Or maybe it was glass. I didn't know. I only knew that the car didn't tip over; it crashed back onto all four wheels, rocking like crazy. The tinge of blood filled the air. The strains of Klaus' golden oldie seventies station crackled in the aftermath.

You know I've run so many races

I've looked into the empty faces

of the people of the night

And something is just not right.

I know that I've got to get out of here...

What the hell—

Lights lit up the car again.

"Motherfucking hell no," Artie growled.

There was a million miles of movement all at once. Artie kicked open his door; it literally flew ten feet away from the car. Then he raised his hand and pointed it, the lamplight glinting off of the barrel of a gun.

A gun? Who the frig brought a gun to a dogfight?

Artie did.

He fired. Once, twice.

The hybrid next to me yanked open his door too. I looked at the hybrid on the other side. The door was crumpled in over his leg. His head lolled. I slapped his cheek. No response. Jesus. My gaze shot to the front. The driver was out for the count, draped over the steering wheel. I had no idea if he was alive or dead. Could a car kill someone like us?

The other car swerved before it could hit us again, running parallel to us. Artie kept firing, then tossed his gun to the side when it clicked, empty. He and the other hybrid started transforming right then and there. Oh god.

This time I didn't hold back. I hit the hybrid next to me with all I had. "Wake up!"

When he jumped me, fangs bared, I punched him in the chest to keep him away. "Not me, you idiot!" I yelled, pointing a finger outside. "Them!"

Whoever 'them' was.

I didn't get a look, but I think the werewolf (werewolves?) in the car jumped out. It sounded like National Geographic on steroids out there! "Get them," I ordered, already climbing over the seats to get to the driver. "I'll deal with him."

He didn't give me a second look. He just took off, presumably to do what I wanted.

I scrambled into the passenger side seat and tried to take in the scene. There was blood everywhere. I couldn't even see the guy's face through it. And there was glass sticking out of the side of his neck.

I sat there, hands up, trying to think of what to do. Pull out the glass? Shake him? Hell, check his pulse?

That sounded good. So I did.

Faint, but there.

I felt the pain before I heard the pop and the sound of another window shattering—was there one left?—and I screamed in surprise, clutching my side. Holy hell! I'd been shot!

The hybrid jerked. Shit, the bullet passed through me and hit him.

Breathing hard, I looked at the fight.

So many werewolves. Glinting eyes, claws out, they tore at the hybrids like pure animals, the kind of monsters that were the stuff of nightmares. The yellow streetlights cast the whole thing in a hellish glow, the fight too fast and hard for humans to follow, but the sounds filling the air unholy.

It was terrifying.

Artie stumbled back. Someone'd kicked him in the chest. I flashed out of the car before I could think about it. One minute I was sitting and the next I'd grabbed the werewolf by the throat and threw him backward, baring my fangs at him in warning.

It was insanity to be out in the open like this. The entire thing was so friggin' crazy that normality disappeared, leaving this otherworld in its place. There were no humans. There was no intersection. There was no night. There was just them and us, and both sides were determined to win.

The punk grinned at me, fangs out, and came at me again.

This time Artie stepped in front of me at the last second, grabbing the guy by the neck and snapping it before you could say how do you do.

The werewolf crumbled to the pavement.

"Run!" Artie yelled at me. "Just go!"

Was he kidding? But he wasn't, and there wasn't time to argue. I wanted to fight. I needed to fight, but that was distracting the hybrids—especially Artie. Running meant taking away the need to protect me.

Running would save a life.

So I ran. I flashed out of there as fast as I could, my cowboy boots thudding dully on the street and the hem of my dress fluttering as I went. My side burned. It was agonizing. Vervain? Who knew?

I don't know how far I ran. I just aimed back toward the house, desperate to get back within that sanctuary. I had no way of knowing if I was safe. I just knew that was the last place I'd seen Klaus. My short jacket was already soaked with blood.

A howl split the night, echoing off of the structures around me.

I was being followed.

I ran faster.

Like my life depended on it.

Street lights sailed overhead like a film on superspeed. There was nothing in front of me but more buildings and parked cars and-

A werewolf girl running straight for me. Holy crap!

I skidded to a stop and darted right, barely dodging her. I grabbed her by the hair at the last second and threw her into a car. She hit the windshield with a crack and the wail of an alarm.

Claws swiped up my back.

I arched and screamed, backhanding my attacker.

He punched me in the stomach. All of the air left me in a whoosh. I fell against the car, and he was there, looming into my face. "Hey there, pretty girl," he purred. "You look tasty."

I didn't hesitate. I plunged my hand into his chest, grabbing his heart. "So do you."

I pulled, his heart in my hand.

The werewolf girl cried out in denial. Part of me would too, much later.

He fell to the ground dead.

I should have moved. I should have darted away, but I didn't.

Pain exploded in my head.

Darkness.

Back at the scene...

I spun on my heel, prepared to dash off into the night. Humans would be coming soon. The alarm would have alerted someone.

Where was Artie? Where the fucking hell was anyone?

One of the hybrids suddenly pointed. The sound of dashing feet reached me. Then they were there. Two injured hybrids and someone I didn't recognize with Artie.

"Fuck," he swore after taking in the destruction. His curse was easily heard over the grating wail of the alarm. The flashing lights painted them in macabre colors, highlighting his numerous injuries. Somewhere along the line his glasses had been knocked off. Blood stained him. "Fuck!" he said again. He threw his prisoner on the ground and leveled a vicious kick at his stomach, his composure a thing of the past. "Tell me where the hell they took her, you piece of shit!"

I focused on the werewolf on the ground. A prisoner.

I covered the distance before Artie had another chance to draw his leg back. I grabbed the werewolf by the hair and lifted him straight up from the ground.

We locked eyes. Recognition flared in his face. So, he knew who I was. Of course he did. As to what he saw just then, I had no doubt of what it was.

Death.

I cupped his cheek so he could not look away and told him in a steady voice filled with promise, "I...am going to teach you the meaning of pain."

I took him into the hedgerow just over, shoving him into the branches to block the view of what came next. "Do you know," I inquired quietly, my fury contained to the point that my voice barely shook, "how long your intestines are if one lays them out flat? No? Let's find out, shall we?"

In a blink I retracted my hand and run a razor sharp claw up his abdomen, slicing through muscle and flesh as easy as pie.

The bloodcurdling scream that pierced the air was not nearly satisfying enough for me.

I plunged in my hand, rooting around his innards. All the while I kept up our conversation. "It's interesting, the human body. Our essential physiology stays the same despite our supernatural states—"

"You killed my brother, you fucker!"

I paused. "Come again?"

"I said, you killed my brother! Cocksucker!" he spat. Sweat poured from his face. He put off the most delicious scent of fear and pain. He was exquisitely aware of each inch of my hand in him, playing around with his guts in a way I haven't in too long. "When you tried to make him into a hybrid. Your goddamn bitch is going to pay for that. She's going to bleed long and good—AHHH!"

I pulled out my hand and flicked away some of the blood. "Long and well," I corrected in a seethe. I bared my fangs at him in a mockery of a smile. "Oh dear. Seems I've nicked something vital. You'll be bleeding out shortly, mate, but believe me, it will also be well."

Had I time, I would make him suffer. I would make him eat more than a foot of his own digestive system, the bile and muck covering him in an undignified heap. He deserved nothing less. He was a speck, a pestiferous bug that I wanted to crush and grind beneath my boot. I longed to stomp in his skull until bits of it scattered across the ground. But there was no time. No time.

He was already turning ashen, his life draining away. I dropped him like the pathetic trash he was, not pausing to hear him splat on the sidewalk before heading for the car.

Artie was swearing. "I brought him so we could interrogate him—"

I snatched him by the neck and slammed him into the hood of the damaged car. The alarm choked, the died.

He grabbed my wrist but didn't struggle. He was pale. "Klaus—"

I slammed him again.

And again.

Then tossed him at the SUV. "Get in the car."

He had no choice but to obey, limping to the door. Already there were the sounds of humans stirring and police sirens in the distance.

He climbed in the eight-seater. We would talk of his failure later. He knew that. Now he was focused on what was more important. "What about Caroline?"

"I don't need to interrogate anyone,"I told him, yanking open the car door and entering. "I know exactly where she is."

Doors slammed. Tires pealed.

Artie didn't bother to hide his shock as we took off. "How?"

My senses focused too much on needless words, I simply yanked the manilla folder from the side pocket and tossed it at him. Papers burst from the depths as he caught it, fluttering in the air. Pictures, data, evidence. It was all there, courtesy of my contact; a detective that was more than a little in love with the idea of vampires.

Artie picked up a picture and a phone record. "Who the-" His face drained of all color. "This is Colby's number."

I said nothing. My fury sharpened.

"No. Klaus, I swear to you, he wouldn't do this. He's too loyal. He'd never hurt Caroline."

"Call him," I ordered. I could barely force out any more words.

"He's not-"

"CALL. HIM." The interior shook.

Shaking from fear—not for himself—Artie tried to dig out his mobile, but it wasn't there. When he borrowed someone else's, I could see his hands trembling. He used the number on the page to dial.

It rang. Once.

"Hello?" a female voice answered.

"Who the fuck is this?" Artie half snarled. "Where's Colby?"

"Oh, you must be Artie. I'm sure your human boy toy is nice and cozy at the hospital. He picked a fight with the werewolf trying to steal his phone. Good luck explaining that, by the way."

Artie's face morphed. "When I find you, bitch—"

"And tell Klaus he can come and collect Caroline any time he wants. I'll be through with her soon. I'll even leave the phone behind so Colby doesn't have to buy a new one. I won't need it to track her any more after this, after all."

I pulled the phone from Artie's hand. "I know who you are."

There was a pause. "Do you? Do you really?"

"That is the question of the hour, isn't it?" I replied silkily. "I wonder how many decibels I can coax from your voice before you die, sweetheart."

"I'll ask Caroline the same question."

Pure hatred swept through me. It was a rare thing, reserved only for the man who called himself my father. Yet this woman managed to elicit it on a level that was truly impressive. "Tell me," I managed to bite out, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Silence. Then, "Fuck you, Klaus."

A beep.

Disconnected.

I carefully removed the mobile from my ear. "Drive," I commanded. "421 Wayward Place."

…..

God, I am so tired of being the hostage, was my first groggy thought when I came to.

Man. You knew it was bad when that was the first thing to cross my mind.

I squinted. My head hurt, and there was a lot of pain coming from a lot of other places too. In fact, when I said a lot of pain, I meant Holy Mary Mother of God kind of pain.

I gritted my teeth to keep from moaning, pulling at the ropes on my wrists. I was tied to a chair.

Not for the first time in my life.

Every part of me asked me to scream.

I wasn't going to, dammit.

I forced myself to look around. It was a perfectly ordinary basement. Exposed pipes and furniture piled up in the corners. Even your standard exposed bulb. It was all very dramatic, complete with dirt floor and a petite redhead in a tanktop and too much gothic jewelry staring at me.

"Who the hell are you?" I bit out.

"Well, aren't we fierce? Guess it must be all those times you've gotten kidnapped in your life." The girl tapped her chin in one of those snotty I'm thinking but not really poses. God, I hated that pose. I already had one person in my life who did that more often than I'd like. I didn't need another. Especially not some psycho chick I was pretty sure was draining rats for kicks.

Ew. Mental picture.

But she was right; I'd gotten kidnapped and tortured way too many times in my twenty years. I was getting just a little bit sick of it. So I glared at her with all my might, lips clamped closed, waiting for her to start the supervillain monologue they ALL seemed to be preprogrammed with. Seriously. It's like they went to school for it.

And dammit, vervain ropes burned like crazy. I'd forgotten that.

Psycho Chick shrugged one shoulder. "Fine. I'm Kate. You don't know me."

I snorted. "Clearly."

"But your boyfriend might."

I frowned. "Klaus?" Okay, seriously, I don't know why I said that. I only had one boyfriend/lover/man in my life, and frankly this kind of thing was almost always about Klaus. I should have been used to it by then.

"Yep." She crouched down in front of my chair, apparently very confident since my legs were tied to the chair too. "The Big Bad himself. How long do you think it'll take him to locate you?"

"I'd estimate twenty minutes, tops," I replied instantly. Not that I knew. The key to facing down the crazies was confidence. Just look at me and Klaus. It didn't get more unstable than him.

Although somebody apparently wanted to give him a run for his money.

"So what are you? Spurned lover? A witch with an epic supernatural plan that will either win the world or destroy it?"

Her lips quirked. The smile didn't reach her eyes. That expression always freaked me out, no matter who was aiming it at me. "Nope. Regular old human."

My frown came back. "Sorry, but did you just say you were human?" A human who knew werewolves and how to restrain a vampire with vervain ropes? That wasn't something I'd run into outside of the Mystic Falls Council...and Ric. "Vampire slayer?"

She shrugged. "You could say that. I had to do some crazy shit to get to this point." She stood, her knees making a popping sound in response. "I'm Kate. I'm here to kill you."

The way she said it...made my blood run cold. "Why?"

"Because Klaus loves you." Kate had green eyes to go with her long red hair, and they were as big as you please when she added, "Becuase I want to rip everything he's ever held dear to shreds. I want him to feel that pain. And I want to see it happen before I kill him."

Wow. She really was unbalanced. "Klaus can't be killed."

"Not yet. But I'll find a way. For now you're a good way to start."

"Oh, I am not going to be anybody else's tool," I told her defiantly. "What the hell is this all about? What was with the rats? What sort of sick-"

Her laugh cut me off. "That's really fucking rich, coming from you!"

"Excuse me?" She did not just insult me like that.

"I said, that's fucking rich. You're the epitome of sick. Just look at who you've hooked up with. Honey, they don't get much more twisted than Klaus Mikaelson. Not only is he dating a girl way too young for him, he's a serial killer." She leaned down, her red hair hanging from her shoulder. "Do you have any idea how many people he's murdered? How he's killed them?" She turned her head like she'd just thought of something. "Oh, yeah, and didn't he murder your boyfriend's mother too?"

I stared at her. "How did you know that?"

"Who do you think was the one that pointed me in Klaus' direction?"

Tyler. Oh god, Tyler, no.

Kate tapped the heavy end of the stake against her thigh. "Don't worry; he has no idea his little former wifey is involved with his mom's murderer. Not yet, anyway. He thinks Klaus is playing with some other random blonde and you're a coincidence." She smirked. "He's not all that bright, is he?"

Tyler was smarter than she gave him credit for, but I couldn't say it. "He's how you got in touch with other werewolves."

"All of them had one thing or another to pick a fight with Klaus for. A lot of them had relatives caught up in Klaus's trail of destruction a couple of years ago. You know, all those failed attempts to make hybrids. I guess karma is a bigger bitch than Klaus counted on."

Okay, enough of the monologuing. "Why?" I asked bluntly. "Why you?"

Something changed in the air then. Something...awful. Kate stared at me for a long minute, her jaw working, her fingers tightening and relaxing on the stake. "He killed my family. My entire family."

Jesus.

I wanted to say he hadn't, but I knew better. "Your whole family?" I repeated faintly.

Her eyes glittered with rage. "Every. Last. One. Know what he called them? Vermin. Ripped out their hearts, tore off their heads, licked the blood off his fingers, and said they were vermin." She looked at me like I was there, slaughtering her family right along side Klaus. "That's the man you love? You picked a real winner, Caroline."

I didn't pick him. Not at first. He picked me and I went with it. I fell in love, but I didn't choose to. I never had.

I swallowed. "I'm sorry." And I was sincere.

She rammed the stake into my thigh.

I screamed, pain exploding everywhere.

"Do you really think I give a damn about your apology?" she yelled in my face. The stake twisted with a brutally sharp turn, causing blood to spray. "Like that's going to bring my family back? Did you fuck him yet, Caroline, knowing what kind of horrific things he's done?"

She backed off as suddenly as she'd attacked, panting and staring at me with unblinking eyes. "You're just as tainted and disgusting as he is," she sneered, "and the only thing you're good for is making him hurt the way he hurts others."

She wiped her face, leaving a streak of blood. "I had a sister. I had a mom and a dad. All we did was ask the wrong guy for restaurant recommendations one night. That's all."

I gritted my teeth. "This...won't bring them back," I managed to say. "This won't accomplish anything."

"Please. Shut up. You're going to die. Trying to convince me otherwise is useless."

"I don't have time for this!" I shouted at her. "If you kill me, he'll come after you. What then?"

"Then I'll take him on. I don't care."

"You should care! Do you think your parents and your sister would want this for you?" I hurt. I hurt in a lot more places than that stupid stake in my thigh. God, Klaus, why? But no, no, couldn't dwell on that. Had to move forward. "I know what he did was wrong."

"Oh, do you? That's so reassuring. But now you're going to tell me he's changed, right? That the power of your love has brought about some magical miracle makeover and he'll never do it again, cross your heart and hope to die." She scoffed. "You're delusional."

I wanted desperately for none of this to be happening, but how many times had I wished the world was better than it was?

Klaus murdered an entire family on a whim.

It was just the kind of thing he'd do. Wipe out a couple of people and then go on his way. Hell, maybe it was back when I was still in Mystic Falls. Maybe he came to see me after and said something sweet. Maybe it was during the two years I was gone. Kate didn't look that old. It could have happened three weeks before he found me again. I really just didn't know. The thought made me sick to my stomach.

And what she'd said about Tyler? Made me even sicker...because I couldn't blame Tyler for wanting Klaus dead. I couldn't blame Kate either. Their loved ones were murdered...by the man I loved. How is a girl supposed to wrap her head around that?

She almost always can't.

"Listen to me," I said, trying to inject as much command as I could into my tone. "We can't waste any more time. Klaus is coming."

"Good. I'm counting on it."

Every beat of my half-dead heart meant a little less blood in my body, meaning I was already starting to feel woozy. I rallied my senses as much as I could and tried to reason with my attacker. "I know this sounds crazy, but Klaus made me a promise. As long as we're together, he won't kill anyone else. That won't bring your family back, but nobody else will die."

"And you believe that? You're dumber than you look."

"I believe it because I know Klaus. He promised."

"Said no one in a healthy relationship ever. Wake up, Caroline. Your boyfriend is one temper tantrum away from murdering whole neighborhoods, and there's nothing you could do to stop it."

"I trust him." I had to. What was the point of everything otherwise?

"That just makes you stupid and a fool. Tell me something. Would you be able to let it go if he killed your mom, or does that kind of thing not bother you as long as it happens to somebody else?"

My god. She really knew how to hit. Tears stung my eyes at the question. Klaus, killing my mother. I was so afraid he'd do it while I was gone. "No," I whispered. "I wouldn't. I couldn't."

"I guess you've got your answer about what's going to happen here, then." She walked over to a table that I hadn't noticed before. She picked up what looked like a serrated scalpel.

My heartbeat sped up and my blood left me faster. "I know you have every reason to do this, but I am begging you, don't. Everybody has the capacity to be better than what they were."

She ignored me.

"I don't care if you hate Klaus for the rest of your life! Go ahead! He deserves it! But think, Kate, about what you're giving up! Go now. Just leave. I won't tell him what happened." And I wouldn't. I had to give her something. Her life was the only thing I could offer.

Because just as everybody had the capacity to be better, they could also be worse. "But if you do this," I added, "and he comes after you, I won't stop him. I wouldn't even try."

I couldn't articulate all the whys and wherefores of this if I spent days at it. All I knew was that if Kate walked away now, the promise was in place and some kind of balance would be restored. If she attacked, Klaus had the right to defend himself, even if it was sort of preempted.

God, what was happening to me? To my logic? Why weren't things simple anymore?

"You'll be dead," Kate told me in a tone that said more than the words. It was like listening to a fanatic patiently explaining all the reasons you deserved to burn in hell.

She'd made her choice.

This? This whole crazy kidnapping revenge thingy? This was my choice. My fork in the road. I mean, how could it not be? This chick had just told me that Klaus had done something just as horrible as he did to Tyler's mom to her family. That I was with someone whose soul was so black that there was no hope of redemption.

Klaus blackmailed into being with him. As Kate walked toward me, scalpel in hand, I realized that what I did next defined something much bigger than that. If I attacked Kate, if I fought back, it wasn't just because I wanted to live. It was because I didn't want anyone to hurt Klaus.

And I didn't. God help me, I didn't. Whatever that made me, Klaus was the man I was in love with, and I couldn't stand the thought of him lost and alone.

All of this ran through my mind without real definition. She came. I moved. And fate just had to follow along.

With a strength of will I once never needed, I yanked against the rope on my ankle and raised my injured thigh. My wrist was still strapped to the armchair but I managed to grab the stake still stuck in me.

I pulled.

Blood flowed.

I flicked my wrist, using my vampiric ability to escalate the force. The stake caught her in the hip. She screamed.

I didn't watch her fall. I pushed with my feet so hard the chair fell back. I almost cracked my head on the floor but the chair could only take so much; wood splintered. The ropes loosened just enough for me to move one wrist. I yanked. The armrest came off with a snap. I grabbed the other ropes and stifled a shriek when the acidic vervain ate at my skin. Oh my god, it was agony!

I pulled. The rope broke. It was almost like my freakin' fingers snapped off with it. But my wrist was free. I heaved myself up, scrambling for the ropes on my legs.

Kate was on the floor, blood pouring. I could smell it. My fangs shot out and my whole body jerked. I wanted it. I needed it. Fresh blood. Wonderful blood.

She saw me clawing at the ropes and pulled herself up, face twisting. She must have known she'd lose because she started limping for the door, an inhuman sound boiling on her lips. It was the sort of scream an animal gives out when it knows it's going to die.

I was free. I was coming.

I caught her just as she tried to step out of the door. Her delicate neck was in my hands, her struggles nothing against me.

"I'm sorry," I told her.

She started to scream. "NO-!"

I snapped her neck. There was the sound of bone breaking and then...nothing.

Nothing.

To be continued...

It's Klaroline weekend! In honor of it, tell me how you felt about the chapter! There's only one more to go, so now's your chance to tell me your thoughts!

1. Oh, Caroline. My heart was ripped to shreds in this chapter.

2. Jim Croce-New York's Not My Home

3. The beautiful cover image is made by nfinneman on tumblr! Darling, you honor me.