Hey guys! I've been trying for about the past month to get this up, but I could not find the time to sit down and get this into doc manager. I was blown away by the responses to the previous chapter. I honestly had no idea what to expect, and certainly didn't anticipate so many of you jumping aboard the Elijah train. Although, maybe that was just an oversight on my part. Yes, Klaus will most definitely be in the dog house for a while, and justly so. But it won't be forever. I'm super excited to begin TO Season 3! There are big things in store, new characters to bring in (you know who they are), and a few surprises along the way. With this chapter, I will completely understand and not be offended if you decide to skim it. While Cassandra's name comes up a number of times, she doesn't make her first actual appearance until the end. I wanted to give you guys a little heads up so you'd be prepared. It's still chalk full of Hope/Mikaelson family goodies, which I hope will still be enjoyable. The next chapter is chalk full of Cassandra, and there shouldn't be any more chapters in the future lacking a suitable amount of her. I'm going to try to get it uploaded before the end of the year. Anyway, thank you as always for the love and support. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and have a wonderful Merry Christmas!
Chapter 51 - Time Does Not Heal All Wounds
3 Months Later
Freya sat at the desk in the parlor room writing a letter to Rebekah who had spent the past three months searching for a way to resurrect their brother Kol. Before she left, Freya had healed her former witch body and gave her the choice of returning to it or remaining in her original one. Rebekah chose not to choose, but instead to use Eva's witch body while she could and keep her original body safe for future use. Freya took on the task of keeping her up to date on the goings on at the compound.
My dear Rebekah, the letter began, I hope this finds you well. I write to offer an update and to ask your advice. Our brothers remain at odds. Klaus will never apologize, not for the blood he shed, nor for the suffering Cassandra continues to endure, though I can see the guilt and sadness in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. And Elijah cannot forgive him. Despite my efforts, we are a house divided.
Which is not to say I have no good news. Niklaus kept his word. Marcel controls the quarter. There he has founded a fight gym in the old St. Anne's church where he tests the mettle of those who wish to join his vampire community.
Elijah has begun joining him for sparing. I believe it helps him work through his anger. And he has much anger. While Hope continues to flourish, it is clear that she misses her mother. Though Niklaus remains the doting father, he's been of little help in finding a cure for Cassandra's curse. Despite my best efforts, I've yet to find a means to undo the spell placed on her and the crescent wolves. And Cassandra herself continues to struggle, unable to see her child except for once a month on the full moon. And we're in no position to ask for outside help. Davina's rage at our family has only grown. And as Regent of all Covens, she's far too formidable to be swayed.
Meanwhile, Niklaus has begun to see Camille for what he calls their little chats. He claims a desire to amend his ways. In truth, he seems utterly free of remorse which only drives Elijah further away. I wonder if you would write me with any advice you have on how to heal their fractured bond. Until then, I remain your loving sister, Freya.
She set the pen down and carefully picked up the letter. She crumbled it into a ball and held it tightly between her hands while she closed her eyes to say the incantation to a spell. A few moments later the paper vanished. She slowly opened her hands and let them fall to her sides as her lips curled into a smile at the thought of Rebekah finding and reading the letter.
-o-
Freya sat on a blanket with Hope in the parlor room later that night, enjoying some peaceful playtime before bed. Although Freya thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her niece, her heart continued to ache for the little girl who continued to be without her mother. The sound of approaching footsteps made Hope turn her her head in their direction. Freya looked up to see Elijah walking toward them.
"She's getting bigger by the second," Freya murmured with a smile.
"Thank you for all of your care," Elijah stopped beside the couch Hope and Freya were sitting next to on the floor and picked up a pink blanket that had been draped over the sofa's arm.
"Tomorrow's the full moon," Freya reminded him. "I can help you bring Hope to Cassandra if you'd like." She offered.
"Won't be necessary. You deserve a night off," Elijah tossed the blanket back onto the couch and dropped to his knees beside Hope to play with her.
"I'd offer to accompany you myself, but I am quite certain I'm the last person Cassandra will want to see," Klaus entered the room and walked over to where they were.
Elijah slowly stood back up. "Yes I doubt that your presence is particularly welcome anywhere," Elijah kept his back to Klaus while he spoke, his voice hinting at his annoyance at being interrupted.
"My own brother greeting me with such distain," Klaus stared at the back of Elijah's head feigning being offended. He turned to his sister. "What do you think, Freya? Is he still angry for my part in Cassandra's curse? Need I remind him it was my ploy that kept her alive."
"Of course," Elijah spun around to face him with a glare on his face. "Forgive me. So you would call this an act of heroism even as you bask in her torment. This is how you show her how much you love her."
He slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and walked past Klaus while Freya stood to her feet and prepared to jump in to mediate should things escalate between her brothers.
"Perhaps," Klaus turned in the same direction, stopping Elijah with his voice and prompting him to look back. "I'd be more sympathetic if Cassandra apologized. After all, it was her that tried to run off with my daughter. That is how she chose to express her love for me," he shot back.
Elijah started to step toward him with a retort on the tip of his tongue when Freya let out a loud groan. "Oh, if you two must poke at one another," she walked over to stand between them, her hands resting on her hips. "May I suggest doing it elsewhere?"
Elijah closed his mouth and glanced over at Hope for a moment before turning on his heel and leaving the room. Once he was gone, Freya stepped forward and turned to face Klaus who tried to remain composed and unaffected by Elijah's words. "Nicely done. At this rate you'll drive the entire family away."
-o-
Hope sat cheerfully in her stroller the following late afternoon while Elijah set up an elaborate picnic feast outside the lakeside shack in the Bayou for Cassandra and the Crescents to enjoy later that night during the full moon. Two long picnic tables were covered with fancy ivory and gold tablecloths. On top of the tables were meat and cheese platters, a three-tier tray with pastries, fruit, salad, a bucket filled to the brim with ice and stuffed with bottles of beers, bottles of champagne chilled in a separate bucket, a plate of powdered-sugar-covered beignets specifically for Cassandra, and all the necessary condiments.
With his jacket draped over the back of a chair and his white dress shirt sleeves neatly rolled up, Elijah carried a tray of finger sandwiches over to the table and set it down. He raised his head and tensed at the sound of an approaching vehicle. He looked up and saw a large pickup truck pulling up to the picnic area. He quickly picked up the tray of sandwiches and calmly walked over to the other side of the tables where Hope was. The engine of the truck shut off and a man emerged from the passenger side. He was bald and wore brown-black pants and a short-sleeved shirt, a tactical vest, thick black boots, and carried an assault rifle strapped to his chest.
"Hell of a spot for a picnic," the man switched to carrying the rifle casually in one hand as he walked toward Elijah.
"Yes, if you can tolerate the mosquitoes it's actually rather serene," Elijah glanced up at him. "Finger sandwich?" He pealed the plastic wrap off of the platter and held it out toward the hunter.
"Trouble is," the hunter held the rifle in front of him with both hands, ignoring the platter Elijah held out to him. "You're trespassing. This whole area is now property of Kingmaker Land Development. In two years, it's gonna be golf courses and condos."
The hunter looked over his shoulder at two other hunters armed with assault rifles who got out of the truck and walked over to join him. Not missing a beat, Elijah set the platter back onto the table while his eyes flickered casually on to them for a brief moment before moving back to the first hunter.
"I take it you're not on the board of directors," he murmured.
"My team and I," the first hunter motioned at the other two men who had joined him with his head. "Are animal control. There's been an influx of wild predators. My boss pays top dollar to, uh, wipe 'em out."
Elijah narrowed his eyes. "Wild predators?"
"Wolves, if you can believe it," the hunter nodded his head. "Killed a half dozen last night."
Tightening his jaw, Elijah gazed down at Hope's stroller and casually turned it around so that she was facing away from the men he was about to slaughter. She continued to murmur and coo, completely oblivious to what was going on which was how he wanted it.
"This baby," the hunter wiggled the rifle in in his hands. " Can take a head clean off." Elijah flashed a fake smile at the hunter and stepped towards him. "Anyway, um, I'm gonna have to ask you to clear out. ASAP."
The hunter placed a hand on Elijah's shoulder which proved to be a fatal mistake. The second he made contact, Elijah grabbed him by the arm and twisted it back until the bones gave a loud snap. The other two hunters raised their guns, but before they could squeeze their triggers, Elijah whooshed over to them and disarmed them before throwing them both flat onto their backs on the ground, killing them almost instantly. The first hunter groaned and used his rifle to climb back onto his feet. As soon as he was standing, Elijah took the gun out of his hand and tossed it to the side before grabbing the hunter by his throat.
"Call off your men," Elijah compelled the man. "You leave this place. You seek another line of work. No more dead wolves."
"I'm an independent contractor," the hunter hissed. "There are other teams out there. I don't have the authority to —"
Elijah snapped the man's neck, killing him before he could finish his sentence, and let his body flop onto the ground. His mind raced with thought after thought after receiving this new information. He needed to find the rest of the hunters before they killed any more wolves, and he needed to find the wolves that were already slain to make sure none of them were Cassandra. And he had to find her before the rest of the hunters did. But before he could do any of that, he had to make sure Hope was safe, and there was only one person he trusted for that.
Klaus stood lurking in the shadows inside The St. James Infirmary where he was hosting an art exhibition to show off his many paintings. Now that the threat of Aunt Dahlia had passed, and Mikael was once again dead, he did not feel the need to hide his artistic gift from the world anymore. He was pleased at the sizable crowd that came and watched intently as they walked around the jazz club, sipping glasses of wine as they admired his work. He was most interested in the opinion of an art critic who was in attendance, which was where his focus currently was. The art critic had stopped in front of the painting of a pregnant Cassandra laying in his bed with a sheet tangled around her naked body and discussed it with his two female companions.
"It's a derivative fiasco," the critic waved his arm. "Little atmosphere. Less technique. The work is nothing more than a self-celebratory ego trip."
Klaus frowned and watched the critic walk off with his companions. A moment later, a man with neatly trimmed light brown hair and hazel eyes appeared beside him out of nowhere and alerted Klaus to his presence by speaking to him.
"I wouldn't expect you to host an art show without compelling the critic to speak your praise," the man observed.
Klaus's lips twitched into a slight smile upon instantly recognizing the voice, a voice he hadn't heard in many centuries. "And I wouldn't expect an uncultured savage to crash such a formal affair," he turned and smirked at the man.
The man let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, not my usual scene. Though," his eyes followed the critic's movement. "That mouthy blood-bag does have a point." He turned back to Klaus and tilted his head. "Your work is derivative."
"Huh," Klaus nodded in amusement.
"Of Degas, I'd say. Of course, I happen to know that you compelled Degas to mentor you. I always thought his work improved after your influence," the man added.
"Finally!" Klaus turned to him, pleased by the compliment. "Someone with an eye for art."
The man chuckled again. "Oh, live long enough and you develop a taste for it. Among other things," he smirked. "Speaking of which," he leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Can we please have a drink? I am quite parched."
Klaus let out a joyful laugh and patted his old friend who on the shoulder before draping his arm around him and leading him over to the bar. Once they had glasses of wine in their hands they began to make small talk and catch up, reminiscing about their past.
"Kol, Kol was a bloody loon," the man shook his head before flashing Klaus a grin. "Loved it!" Klaus laughed hysterically in agreement. "But Finn, oh, Finn. Finn was fine as long as you didn't actually have to speak to him."
"Have you spoken to her?" Klaus asked once he stopped laughing.
"Who?" The man asked, turning to Klaus and narrowing his eyes slightly in confusion. Klaus raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh," the man realized instantly who Klaus meant. "You mean her. As you well know, Aurora and I parted ways centuries ago"
Klaus started to open his mouth to say something else when he caught sight of Cami walking into the club. A server offered her champagne which she declined with a shake of her head. "Please, excuse me," Klaus gently patted the man's shoulder as he stood up. "There's someone I need to speak to."
"Hmm. Anyone tasty?" The man stood and turned to see where Klaus was going.
Klaus turned back to him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Stay here. Behave yourself."
"Always," The man gave him a nod.
"Well, I suppose later is better than never," Klaus called out to Cami as he walked over to her. "But you are late indeed." He had given her an in-person invitation to the exhibition earlier that day, but she had turned him down.
"I'm not here for the show," Cami told him in a calm voice. "I have a problem and you weren't answering your phone." She glanced past him at the man he'd been drinking with and realized he was staring back at her while he sipped his glass of wine. "Who's the dirtbag eyeing me like I'm a rack of lamb?" She folded her arms and motioned at Klaus's friend with her head before glancing back at Klaus. "Old friend?"
"Old acquaintance, nothing more," Klaus tried to reassure her in a low voice.
"'Old acquaintance?' You wound me," The man called out after having been listening to Klaus and Cami from his seat at the bar.
Cami's eyes widened slightly. "Can he hear us?" She whispered to Klaus. "Is he a—"
"Hard of hearing? Quite the opposite, actually," the man answered with a smile, confirming her suspicions. "Side effect I inherited from Nik."
"We can discuss my discourteous friend, Lucien, at our next little chat. For now let's preserve your precious boundaries, shall we?" Klaus murmured, referencing her reason for turning down his invitation earlier that day.
"Someone tortured and killed a local," Cami told him. "Left the body right out in the open. I think it as a vampire."
"Yes, well, vampire business is now Marcel's purview," he reminded her in a low, snide voice. "Or Elijah's, when he's not busy loathing me. By all means, check with them."
Cami stared at him for a long moment, slightly hurt by his words and unwillingness to help, then turned on her heel and marched out of the club. Klaus watched her leave, and then went back to join Lucien at the bar.
Marcel stood outside the cage inside his fight gym at St. Anne's church watching two men with vampire potential spar with each other. A moment later, he noticed a small person in black cloak with the hood over their face walking past the other side of the cage and up the stairs leading to the attic. Knowing exactly who it was, he followed and came to a stop in the attic doorway.
"I'd ask if everything was okay, but you wouldn't be here if it were," he said to the cloaked figure who stood with their back to him in front of a grandfather clock with a sheet draped over it.
The cloaked figure reached up and lowered the hood they were using to hide their face, revealing the familiar face of Davina Claire, the new Regent of the New Orleans Witches. "You know I was bored out of my mind when I lived up here?" She turned around to face him. "I don't miss it, but," she turned to a small table where a jar of paint brushes was placed and picked up a stray brush that was laying beside it. "Things were a lot simpler," she gazed down at the brush, rotating it nervously in her hands. "And at least I felt safe."
"What happened?" Marcel stepped into the room, displeased by what he was hearing.
"I was attacked. One of my own people tried to use a spell to ruin my hands. What's next? My eyes? My heart? They hate me. I knew that, but I didn't think they would just revolt," she sighed and set the paint brush back down on the table.
Marcel rubbed his chin and shook his head in frustration. "Witches in New Orleans have a habit of getting homicidal, all right. Why do you think I was so hard on 'em?"
"But I'm Regent. They should respect me! I didn't sign up for this."
"Sure you did. You chose to be their leader. The target on your back, it comes with the job."
"So what do I do?" Davina let out a soft breath.
"Say the word, all right?" Marcel gave her a reassuring nod. "Me and my guys—"
"You'll what?" Davina cut him off and folded her arms across her chest. She knew he meant well, but it was not a solution that would benefit her. "They see me siding with you against my own kind, I'll just be proving them right."
"D," Marcel stepped closer to her, his frustration at not being able to protect her growing. "Someone came at you. It might be one today, but if you sit back and do nothing by tomorrow there'll be more. You gotta respond with a show of force. If not me, find another way. But it's got to be done."
Davina pressed her lips firmly together and considered his words for a long moment. The wheels in her head began to spin and an idea formed. She now knew exactly what to do, how to show she was not someone to be trifled with.
"Did I misinterpret the kind of exhibition you're attending?" Elijah spoke into his phone once Freya had answered. He stood on the dock by the shack under the pitch-black sky which was illuminated by twinkling white stars and a vibrant full moon. It wouldn't be long before the moon reached its apex allowing Cassandra and the Crescents to return to their human forms for a short time.
"I switched venues," Freya's muddled voice replied over the loud music blaring in the background at Rousseau's where she was currently participating in a little adult fun. "Aren't you the one who said I deserved a night off?"
"Forgive me," Elijah gradually made his way back to the porch where Hope's stroller was. "Someone needs to watch Hope. I have an errand to run."
"How ominous. What errand?" Freya asked out of curiosity.
"A necessary evil. I would rather my niece not bear witness," he gazed down at Hope who looked back at him with her big, blue eyes.
"Fair enough. Give me a minute. I have an idea," Freya told him before hanging up.
Elijah let out a breath and slipped his phone into his pocket. He knelt down in front of the stroller and ran his fingertips over the blanket tucked around Hope. Her eyes were droopy, though she wasn't quite ready to give in to sleep. He knew she wouldn't be able to fight it much longer though. She cooed softly and blinked her eyes open while moving her head back and forth in an ill-fated attempt to remain awake. Elijah smiled at her and looked up to see Freya flicker and fully appear behind the stroller after performing a spell to teleport there. Elijah stood up and met her eyes. She nodded curtly at him, and he nodded back before whooshing off into the darkness.
When he was deeper into the woods he slowed to a normal walk and stopped when he came upon a large steel-jawed animal trap on the ground. He knelt down and lightly brushed his fingertips against the flat spring trigger in the center. He looked up and stretched his his hearing. The hunters weren't far off. With his lips twitching in anger and hoping to draw them out, he gripped the sides of of the jaw trap and noisily broke it in half before he stood back up. Sure enough, a hunter with an assault rifle strapped to his chest appeared behind him after hearing the sound.
"What the hell are you doing?" The hunter asked.
Elijah let go of the pieces of broken trap, letting them fall to the ground with a loud, clanking thud. "Oh my goodness," he turned around to face the hunter with a smile on his face. "Where are my manners? Permit me to explain."
He vamp-sped over to the hunter and grabbed the rifle out of his hands before shoving him down to the ground. The hunter's groans attracted the attention of another hunter who came running towards him. Using the rifle like a javelin, Elijah threw it at the second hunter, impaling him in the chest with the barrel of the gun and killing him almost instantly. He dropped to his knees, then fell onto his side. While the first hunter slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, Elijah walked around to stand behind him.
"Lesson one of the hunt," Elijah grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him up to his feet, then turned him around and gripped him by his throat, holding him high above the ground. "Lay the bait."
He threw the hunter down onto the ground where a second jaw trap he had spotted was. The trap clamped around the hunter's ankle, making him cry out in pain. Elijah began to adjust the cuffs of his dress shirt when he noticed three red dots from three laser sights pointed right at his chest.
"How precious," he hummed in amusement as he looked up to see three more hunters approaching him. "And just in time for lesson two." He whooshed straight for them.
The art exhibition was dwindling down, leaving only a few remaining people who wandered around. Klaus stood in front of the French Quarter cityscape he'd painted, complete with big, bright full moon, which previously hung in Hope's nursery, sipping the remnants of his wine. He was joined by Lucien who couldn't help but notice how his mood had gone south ever since Cami had stopped by.
"Your pretty friend seems to have fouled your mood," Lucien tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Klaus. "Why don't we go out? Paint the town red, et cetera, et cetera."
Klaus downed the rest of his drink on a small table beside the easel for just such a purpose and turned to his friend. "Lucien," he raised his hands in aggravation, clearly not in the mood. "What are you really doing in my city?"
Lucien hesitated for a split second and pressed his lips together, momentarily taken off guard by Klaus calling him out, though he was quick to recover. "News has spread, old friend. Every vampire in the world knows you've been attacked. A number of times, nearly killed."
"Oh, well," Klaus rolled his eyes. "I can assure you that all those who stood against me ended up either desiccated, dust, or dinner."
"Mmm," Lucien chuckled, nodding his head. "Yes, but," he sighed and began to pace around in Klaus until he stood on the other side of him, forcing Klaus to turn toward him. "What if it had gone the other way? Hmm? When Finn was killed, we all learned the truth. The life of every vampire is linked back to the Original who begat the line. Kol's death confirmed it. Two entire lines of vampires wiped out. As you can imagine, the threat of it doesn't sit well with those of us that remain."
"Anyone fearing death as a result of my demise should come see me. I'd be happy to reassure them," Klaus replied, unfazed.
"Of course," Lucien nodded. "You and your siblings are mighty indeed. Yet the attacks on you do show that you are not completely invulnerable. While you've wallowed in your family affairs, your progeny have grown somewhat restless. The world is a finite place. Territory limited. And even ancient vampires are not above vicious turf wars. What if I told you there's a growing conflict between the remaining three sire lines? Suppose one of them wanted to annihilate the other, by killing Elijah? Rebekah? You?"
"So you came all this way to deliver a warning?" Klaus murmured in a low voice, keeping all emotion from showing on his face.
"Think about it," Lucien went on. "Kill an Original, wipe out an entire line of competition. A tempting goal, made more so by the fact that your family is divided and thus weaker than you have ever been—"
"My family is hardly weak," Klaus growled softly. "In fact, we are unkillable. The last of the white oak is gone," the hint of a smrik tugged at his lips.
"Are you so certain it's all gone?" Lucien narrowed his eyes, challenging Klaus. "Every last splinter of it? Vanished for good?"
Klaus smiled and turned his head before inhaling sharply and grabbing Lucien by the back of the neck, squeezing it threateningly. "Lucien," he growled again. "If you had even the slightest inkling any fragment of white oak still existed, of course, you would tell me," he tightened his jaw, staring Lucien down.
"Easy, Nik," Lucien tried to calm him down. "You are my sire," he slowly removed Klaus's hand from his neck. "My fate is linked to yours. If you want to know what I'd do about the dangers you now face, trust me enough to come with me. There is something that you must see."
Lucien led Klaus to a luxurious penthouse in the heart of the French Quarter. They stopped in front of two ornately carved and decorated french doors. "Please excuse the mess," Lucien stopped at the doors and turned around to face Klaus with a smirk on his face. "I've been entertaining."
He turned back around and opened the doors to reveal a bustling party full of load music and dressed up people. Some of the people in attendance were vampires who were were freely feeding on their human dates. They stopped in the middle of the main room where Klaus took a moment to glance around.
"Well, you never were one for subtlety," an amused grin made its way onto Klaus's face.
Before he could become too distracted, Lucien tapped his arm and motioned for him to keep following him all the way into the master bedroom. After letting Klaus go in first, he patted him on the shoulder and shut the door behind them.
"You brought me here to have a seánce?" Klaus's eyes were quick to notice a nearby table set up with candles, various animal bones, bowls of herbs.
"Something like that," Lucien murmured and made his way over to a woman with brown wavy hair who made her way over to the table. "I present my personal forecaster, the lovely Alexis."
"Don't tell me you're here to scry some future portents of my doom," Klaus chuckled at the lameness of the idea.
"Alexis is no back-alley palm reader," Lucien stared at Klaus in disdain as he walked over to the bed while Alexis moved to stand in front of Klaus. "She's an expert cipher. Patterns, trends, cycles. She does exceptionally well on the stock market," He took off his jacket and tossed it on top of the bed before turning back around to join them, stopping behind her and putting a hand on her back. "And never fails to guess the winner of The Bachelorette," he finished.
Alexis reached out and brushed the collar of Klaus's shirt slightly to the side before placing her palm against his chest and focusing on his heartbeat.
"Touch forward, isn't she?" Klaus glanced from Alexis to Lucien, a smirk on his face.
"I've heard so much about you. The famous hybrid," Alexis smiled at him. "Your ancient heart beats strong indeed for someone in such danger."
"If you have a warning to deliver, love, best get on with it," Klaus flashed her an impatient smile.
"By all means," Alexis lowered her hand. Lucien helped her take off her take off her black sweater, revealing a black dress. "But if you want the most from the experience, I suggest you feed on me. As you do, I'll allow you into my mind." She moved her hair over to the right side of her head, and tilted her head, exposing the left side of her neck. "You can see for yourself."
Klaus laughed silently, unsure if he could actually buy into any of what was being asked of him.
"Come on," Lucien sensed his hesitation. "How long's it been since we shared a real drink?" He held Alexis's right arm in his hand and lowered his mouth, biting into her wrist. Klaus watched them for a moment before grabbing her neck and biting her.
"Drink deep, but beware," Alexis recited the prophecy as they fed. "What you broke is past repair. All your oaths you betray. Your sacred vows you sever. And now you see that nothing lasts for always and forever. Three yet remain, two already crossed. Yet in one year's time, you'll all be lost. As your family is undone, you will seed to the beast that is to come."
With each phrase she spoke, Klaus saw a different vision. The first vision was of the compound dining room where a lavish table had been set up for a feast. He was one one end, standing up to address Elijah who stood at the other end while Lucien and Cassandra sat one side and watched silently. Then the vision flickered, and the table appeared completely destroyed.
The second vision was of the hanging portraits of Elijah and Rebekah in the Grand Foyer. Out of nowhere, Elijah's portrait is splashed by a line of red blood that ran down the length of the painting, obscuring his face.
The third vision was of something that had already transpired—when Finn had been possessing Vincent Griffith's body and Elijah, who'd just recovered from Esther's 'red door' spell, had grown so enraged by Finn's comments regarding Rebekah that he threw Finn onto the table and bit his neck. Klaus remembered that particular moment all too well.
The final vision showed him a page from a witch's grimoire full of magical symbols and instructions. Then it shifted to show the silhouette of a tan, very muscular man who opened his mouth to growl and reveal extremely long and sharp fangs unlike anything he'd ever seen in his thousand years.
With a loud, frustrated growl, Klaus pulled away from Alexis and gripped her by the throat. "You think you can fool me with bad poetry and parlor tricks?" He snapped at her.
"My visions are conjured from you," Alexis told him. "The threat you face will be more clear the longer I'm in your presence. Kill me, you'll never see what's coming."
Klaus glanced at Lucien who was staring back at him nervously, then shifted his eyes back to Alexis as he pondered over her words and decided whether or not he could accept them. After a moment, he reluctantly let go of her throat, though he continued to scowl angrily at her.
Lucien reached for Alexis's hand and gently kissed her palm before letting go and stepping towards Klaus while Alexis went to clean herself up. "I told you," he spoke softly. "Something is coming. You'll need me."
Klaus stared at him and, in a moment of rage over Lucien's words, grabbed Lucien and threw him against the door to the room with a burst of hybrid strength.
"I AM KLAUS MIKAELSON!" He roared at the top of his lungs. "I don't need anyone, nor will I be warned by lesser men!" He walked up to Lucien and lowered his voice to an icy whisper. "I am the thing that lesser men fear."
"Then act like it," Lucien scoffed, narrowing his eyes in annoyance and walking around Klaus to put a little bit of distance between them. He stopped once he was near the bed and turned back toward Klaus. "Instead of pouting about your family's disapproval."
"Yes, you are Klaus Mikaelson," he stalked back toward him, pointing a finger dramatically at him. "You are the most ruthless, wicked beast to ever live. I came here to remind you of that," he poked Klaus in the chest. "Because, quite frankly," he turned and paced back toward the bed. "I've been worried that you lost a step."
"I need no reminding of who I am," Klaus murmured in a low voice and moved toward Lucien. "That truth has been clear to me for a thousand years."
Lucien nodded his head in agreement. "And in those years, you've acquired countless enemies. And with the sire lines at war? You now have mine as well." Lucien muttered, walking past Klaus to the bedroom door. He placed his hand on the door frame and leaned against it. "Anyone who would kill me could now come after you," he glanced back at Klaus who continued to stand with his back to him.
"And since I have so many rivals," Lucien walked back over to him. "And because I do not want to die, I beg you. Let me help you. From now on, I am the only one you can trust."
Klaus considered this for a moment while he struggled to find his voice. "I don't trust anyone," he finally whispered.
An unarmed hunter raced through the dark woods in the Bayou in an ill-fated attempt to escape from Elijah. He tripped over what he assumed was a branch and fell onto his knees. When he put his hands on the ground to push himself up, he looked back at the spot where he'd tripped and saw it wasn't a branch but the dead body of one of his fellow hunters. He looked in the opposite direction and saw another body. Flooded with panic, he quickly jumped to his feet and stared to run when he came face to face with Elijah.
"You will provide me with the precise location of every last one of those vulgar traps," Elijah spoke calmly as he casually walked toward the hunter, his hands in his pockets and a look of fury on his face. "As well as the routes used by any of your other men."
"I-I don't know—" The hunter stammered and was cut off and knocked to the ground by a naked blonde woman who came charging at him with a vengeance. She punched and clawed him several times until he went limp.
"Cassandra," Elijah whispered, staring at her in disbelief. The woman stood up and turned around to face him, revealing she was not Cassandra. His lips parted in surprise at the mistake he'd made. "Forgive me," he shook his head apologetically, keeping his eyes locked on her face. "I thought—"
"I know who you thought I was," the woman cut him off.
Elijah took a step towards her. "Do you know where she is?" He asked, his voice and eyes full of worry.
"Judging by what these hunters did, the traps they set and the blood I saw, if she's not with her daughter, she's probably dead," the woman answered.
Elijah tightened his jaw and looked past her at the open woods with worry written all over his face. He left the woman and began to head in the direction she had come from. It did not take him long to find the trail of bodies she'd left in her wake. Eventually they led him to a pickup truck belonging to the one of the hunting parties. He carefully stepped over the remaining dead bodies as he walked up to the truck and walked around to the truck bed in the back which was covered by a large tarp. He reached for the edge of the tarp and braced himself before throwing it back, revealing the dead corpses of half a dozen werewolves. He stared at them in shock, his breathing becoming erratic because he could not determine if Cassandra was among the dead wolves for he did not know what her wolf form looked like. All he could do was pray she had somehow been able to avoid the hunters and was still out there somewhere.
Cassandra groaned and panted while she lay naked on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest as she caught her breath. She could hear Hayley right beside her, catching her own breath after their horrific ordeal of being pulled by magic to a tomb in Lafayette Cemetery. They'd been running from the hunters with Jackson, dodging their gunfire and avoiding their traps when the spell began and pulled them away from him.
Lifting her head, Cassandra quickly noticed she and Hayley were trapped inside a salt circle, another witch specialty. She heard footsteps and looked in their direction with a loud, surprised gasp. She saw the very last person she expected carrying a bundle of blankets in her arms.
"What in the world are we doing here? Why are we trapped?" She scowled at Davina Claire.
Davina tossed the blankets at her and Hayley so they could cover up. "I used magic to draw you here and keep you a captive audience." She explained in a calm voice.
Cassandra scrambled to her feet and wrapped the blanket around her body. "Davina, I need to see my daughter," she pleaded.
"I'm sorry, but there's something I need you to do for me first," Davina answered.
Cassandra exchanged a glance with Hayley before looking back at Davina with an icy stare, not the least bit impressed with the young witch for meddling and keeping her from seeing Hope. And if she had her way, she'd make sure Davina knew it.