Chapter Nine

Aftermath

Mystic Falls, Virginia

July 27, 2010

Sunlight filtered through Klaus' eyelids as he breathed in the smell of wild summertime. He could hear bird calls and running water and a distant highway. He assessed his body as he lay on the forest floor – muscles, bones, and blood pumping through his veins. Everything seemed a little stronger and more carnal than the day before. He felt whole. He smiled into the soil.

"What are you bloody smiling at? We're in a hell of a mess here," his sister's snide voice drifted over from a few feet away.

He rolled over with a sigh, then sat up. Before he could say anything, he was slapped in the face with a pair of pants.

"Get dressed. If I see you naked again another thousand years from now, it will be too soon," Rebekah groused.

He observed his sister as he dressed. Rebekah was perched on a stump with her legs crossed, still wearing yesterday's outfit. Her left leg was trembling like a jonesing smoker's. She was coiled over her phone mid-text, her nimble fingers flying across the screen. Once he finished dressing, she glanced up at him.

"Do you remember anything about last night?" she asked.

"Bits and pieces. The wolf is incredible. Wild and fierce, strong and fearless. Proud. It was exhilarating to run in that form."

She scowled at him. "Not that, idiot. The ritual!"

He frowned. "Of course, I do. I didn't need a reminder, sister."

She stood up slowly, her lips whitening with tension. "The reminder? I'm the one who's had to deal with the fallout! When you got too close to town last night, I dragged you back into the woods. As soon as you transformed back, I buried the bodies of the werewolf and poor Greta. I've had to assure Liz you're not coming to kill the townsfolk, all while keeping track of everyone's movements!"

"Are you expecting gratitude, Bekah? Or a trophy?"

"Forget it," she scoffed.

"Where is Silas now?"

"They locked him in the dungeon at the Boarding House. The Salvatores are currently burying Katerina Petrova's body. You'll be pleased to know the doppelgänger survived."

He was pleased about that; it meant he had the option to create a hybrid army. But there was something more important to worry about.

"I'm assuming Caroline is with Liz. Are there any changes in her…condition?" he asked without much hope. He knew it wouldn't be that easy.

Rebekah curled her lip in distaste. "Don't assume anything. Caroline spent the entire night with the Lockwood boy."

Blinding fury washed over him. "What."

"Not that way, Nik. Honestly. Out of the goodness of her heart, she helps him every full moon. I tried to stop her, but even with amnesia, she's still Caroline."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to remain calm. Finally, he asked, "Elijah?"

"Flying to New Orleans as we speak. We need to get to the Salvatore's."

She stood up, shoved her phone in her pocket, and swept her knotted blond hair into a bun.

"Bekah, how am I alive?" he asked in awe.

"Are you surprised you survived the transformation? We always knew you would."

"Not that. The piece of White Oak was making its way towards my heart. But I don't feel it anymore," he said, touching his chest gingerly.

Rebekah grimaced. "Silas was using mind-control to trick you – there was never a shard in you. I felt nothing. You'd be dead by now if it was real."

"No. No, I felt it there, Bekah!"

"You remember what Alexander said about his powers. You saw how he convinced us he was Riko. For god's sake, Nik, he forced you to murder three women last night!"

"He did," he confirmed grimly. "We should leave. We'll take Caroline and Pacari and Mariko and get the hell out of this wretched town."

"I think Silas is here because of us. He'd just follow wherever we went. I, for one, am tired of running from old men out for my blood; I've done it for far too long in my extended life. Besides, we spent all that time in Namibia researching only to flee when he arrives here? Why is he here? Don't you think it's all a little too coincidental?"

He paused. "What are you saying?"

She shook her head. "We need to question him."

"And the Cure?" he asked.

Rebekah bit her lip. "I don't know. I stayed out here in the woods with you all night."

He twisted his wedding band. "We need to know where it is, Bekah. Where is my wife now?"

"She texted me around dawn saying Lockwood had returned to his human form and as soon as she got him home, she'd go to the Gilbert house to check on the doppelgänger. Elena's father died to save her. She's in shock."

Klaus massaged his temple. "I wish Caroline's amnesia erased her urge to save every single pitiful creature she comes across – that'd be a little more helpful."

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "I'm just the messenger, Nik. Are you coming with me to the Boarding House?"

"Forty-eight hours ago, Caroline would have been the one to stay with me all night. She would have been ecstatic my curse is broken. Now, she cares more about an adolescent werewolf with the IQ of that tree."

"I'm sorry, Nik," said Rebekah, and she did seem to be sorry for him, despite the chaos around them.

He kicked a rock into the thicket as a low growl escaped his lips. "Let's go."

Mariko was perched on a stool outside the dungeon in the Boarding House basement. She was sharpening her hunting knife. The elegant blade with a pearl and emerald inlaid handle was the only artifact she had that had once belonged to her father; it was her go-to weapon, and a reminder to never trust too easily. Pacari appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Nik's awake. He and Bekah are heading over now."

"Good."

"I can take over for you."

"I'm fine."

"Mariko-"

"I know my limits. I'm fine."

Pacari walked away. She returned to sharpening the ancient blade. Thwick, shwick, thwick.

"Don't trust anyone else to do the job properly?"

Damon leaned against the stone doorway with his arms crossed, the picture of male arrogance.

"I trained Pacari myself," she snapped. "He's more than capable."

"So…?"

Mariko glanced through the barred window. Though Silas lay in the shadows, she could make out a tiny smirk on the face of Bonnie Bennett. "This is personal."

"Ah. You mean when he ran around town pretending to be you. Gotta say, he did a pretty good job, Circe."

"She's not mad about that," Silas crooned from the cell. "She's humiliated I bested her in Greece."

The thwicking sounds halted. "You left me there to die. I got out quickly enough to warn my family you were here."

"But I still broke the Hybrid Curse," he countered childishly.

She shrugged. "Thank you for that. We were never going to find a way to break it without the sacrifices. You did the dirty work for us."

"That's what I told Klaus!"

"You don't seem too concerned about the sacrifices," Damon observed.

She looked up at him. "I have seen a lot of death in my time. It's a shame about the werewolf, but Elena was saved, and Katerina signed her own death sentence long ago. I take it you've buried her?"

He pulled out a flask, toasted her, and took a swig.

"She'll forever rest where we fell in love with her – the site of our childhood home."

"Adieu, Katerina," Mariko murmured.

"How did you know her?"

"We had a mutual acquaintance."

"Well, yeah: Klaus."

"I am not referring to Niklaus."

"Fine. Be cryptic."

A small smile played on the edges of the witch's lips. "Katerina thought I was a cold-blooded bitch."

"Was she right?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, so was she. I'm not saying it was easy burying her, but a weight lifted from my chest as soon as we shoveled that last bit of dirt over her grave," he confessed, storing the flask in his back pocket. "The end of a chapter."

They heard the front door open and close. Rebekah, Klaus, and Pacari flashed down the steps.

Klaus stood in front of the barred window and stared at Silas who stared back from the cot with his hands behind his head. Rebekah glanced between the Mariko and Pacari.

"Is it safe?"

"We're suppressing his psychic abilities," Pacari explained. "Sheer mental force combined with a special tonic subsisting of sulfur powder, buchu leaves, and a pinch of deadly nightshade."

Rebekah raised her eyebrows. "Poison?"

"He's immortal – it just weakens him. Unfortunately, we couldn't subdue his shapeshifting power," Mariko groused. "I'd love to know what he really looks like."

"He's powerful, but he's not a true witch," Pacari added. "Consequence of immortality. Too bad Riko here wasn't around in biblical times to give Qetsiyah some pointers."

"Thank the gods," Mariko hummed.

"Did he have the Cure on him?" Rebekah murmured.

"No," said Pacari.

Klaus stepped closer to the door. "Where is it?"

The Immoral Witch faked ignorance. "Where's what?"

"I am not a patient man. What did you do with the Cure?" Klaus hissed.

"Why would you assume I did something with it?"

"Because it was in your bloody grasp for two millennia," Rebekah snapped as she joined her brother's side. Mariko rose behind them.

"You mean you haven't figured it out?" Silas-as-Bonnie taunted with a leer.

"Figured what out?" Pacari asked.

"The Cure was stolen from me. The thief thrust a bleeding witch onto my desiccated mouth, then snatched it from my hands mid-revival when I was at my most vulnerable. Coward."

Klaus crossed his arms. "Shouldn't you be chasing this thief, then? Why would you waste time here, running around as Mariko and breaking my curse?"

"Ah, why indeed. I broke the Hybrid Curse in retaliation for the theft."

"Who stole it?" Rebekah demanded. "The Five?"

"Mmmm. Good guess, but no. Those morons have had centuries to find me and have gotten nowhere. Ask yourselves, children: who would be desperate enough to hatch such an ill-conceived plan in the hopes of fixing their greatest mistake? Who would be most upset if I broke the Hybrid Curse?" Silas taunted with a wink.

Rebekah and Niklaus went cold, sharing a look of dread. Pacari clenched his fists. Mariko's grip on the hunting knife tightened. Damon was the only one who did not catch the witch's meaning.

"Greatest mistake?" he repeated.

"It's our parents. Our parents released him," Rebekah explained in a deadened voice.

"By now they'll have realized I freed the wolf inside you. Now they know I cannot be controlled or handled," the witch hissed out.

Mariko whipped her knife into the door of the dungeon, where it imbedded deep in the wood.

Pacari stepped forward. "Esther has been resurrected?"

"Mikael found a way to communicate with her in the Other Side. She's been helping him figure out a way to find and awaken me for years."

"Nik," Rebekah whispered. "He's had her body since Chile."

Her brother punched his fist through the wall. Esther's return had long been a fear, but they'd gotten distracted over the years.

She turned back to Silas. "What did he want in exchange for giving you back the Cure?"

"He wanted me to distract you and weaken your defenses while he resuscitated your mother."

"Which you did," Pacari pointed out.

"No." It was Mariko. "He went to his homeland in search of the Anchor."

"The Anchor?" Damon questioned.

"The Anchor to the Other Side; the bridge between dimensions. While it exists, he cannot join Amara in the afterlife because she died as a human and he is a witch," Mariko explained. "But he didn't find any clues about the Anchor in that cave. He found me. He probed my mind for information. That is when he decided to impersonate me and break the Curse."

"But he did weaken us. Caroline has amnesia!" Rebekah protested.

"She was a necessary casualty in order to get to Niklaus," Silas admitted with a careless shrug.

Klaus ripped open the dungeon door, wrapped one hand around the witch's neck, and smashed him against the wall. "Undo it."

"Oh, I can't. Only Mariko and Bonnie can," Silas purred. "I'm sure you've realized her magic is affected – a stroke of brilliance on my part."

Klaus slammed him against the wall again, but Silas did not even wince. "You've pissed off the wrong man."

"Relax. She'll recover. Or don't you have confidence in Riko d'Ebanne?"

Pacari came up behind Klaus and placed a hand on the witch's forehead. Silas hissed in pain as the Incan hybrid sifted through his thoughts.

In an underground cavern, surrounded by a semi-circle of chanting witches, Mikael waited for Silas to finish drinking. When he tossed the witch's body unceremoniously to the ground, he stared up at the Original.

"And your reason for waking me was…?"

Mikael held up a tiny scarlet-hued capsule. "I would like to make an exchange. You help me defeat my children, and I'll return this to you."

The witches were good, but not that good. Silas saw inside the vampire's mind. "You're bringing your wife back from the Other Side?"

"If you distract and weaken my children while I resurrect her, you'll get your potion back."

Silas lost his temper. "You presume to overpower me? You've already made an enemy simply by waking me up – don't make things worse for yourself."

"You do not accept my offer?"

"GIVE ME MY CURE."

The witches' chanting intensified. Silas was knocked out cold. When he came to, they were all gone.

Pacari released Silas and winced. "He's telling the truth. It was Mikael. He is going to raise Esther."

Klaus shoved Silas to the floor with a hiss and exited the dungeon. Pacari closed and locked the door while Klaus gestured for them to follow him upstairs. Pacari fixed Mariko with a stern look.

"I'm taking over for you," he ordered, placing his hand on her shoulder and pushing her towards the stairs.

Klaus and Rebekah were in the foyer.

"Why would Mikael and Esther go through all that trouble to find Silas' body and steal the Cure only to hold it over his head? It's not worth the risk. There's no way they woke him up just to sic him on us," Rebekah was saying. "Our parents wanted the Cure. They have no intention of giving it back to him, and he must know that. We're caught in the middle of their feud."

"Why would they bother with the Cure when they have the White Oak Stake?" Klaus argued.

"Mother risked everything to turn us. She would not want us dead," Rebekah said. "She thinks we're monsters and regrets using the Immortality Spell, but she would not let Mikael kill us if there was another way. It goes against every action she took before her death. They must be trying to make us human, take back what they did."

Mariko frowned. "Esther created the vampire race; she shouldn't need the Cure to strip you of your immortality. Unless…"

"Unless…?"

A savage smile lit up her features. "Esther might be called 'The Original Witch,' but really nothing about her was original. She stole the immortality spell from Ayana, who was a descendant of Qetsiyah herself. A lot happened in the world between 1 and 1000 A.D. Some of Qetisyah's notes must have been lost."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, Esther doesn't know how to reverse the spell. She needs the Cure because the knowledge was lost, and she's not clever enough to figure it out on her own."

"Elijah just told us there is only one dose," Klaus protested. "How could she turn all of us back with a single dose?"

"I don't know," Mariko admitted reluctantly. "But she must have a plan – she is clever enough for that."

"What would happened if Silas found and destroyed the Anchor?" Rebekah asked after a beat.

Mariko shook her head ruefully. "What did all the covens and cults in Africa predict?"

"Apocalypse."

"Could be false information spread by the Travelers, but I'm still going to take a wild guess and say nothing good."

"Is there a possibility Esther knows where it is?" Klaus demanded.

The Undying Witch placed her hand on his shoulder. "Nik, this is your mother we're discussing. What do you think?"

Caroline paced the length of the Gilbert living room. Elena had locked herself in her room. Stefan and Bonnie were talking to Jenna in the kitchen. Jeremy was sitting in the hallway against the door to his room with his head leaned back and his eyes closed. Alaric was poring over stacks and stacks of papers he'd laid out on the dining room table. He was trying to sort through John's supernatural research. Due to her agitation, Caroline's advanced hearing was particularly sensitive. The house became a soundtrack of Elena tossing and turning in bed, the murmurs from the kitchen, Jeremy's head softly banging against the door to his room, Alaric shuffling papers, and her own footsteps. The sounds rose in crescendo until she felt like her brain would explode. She walked out of the house.

The door had barely banged shut behind her when she froze. The man who said he was her husband was standing on the second step to the porch, his face twisted with fury. Looking more closely, she realized that beneath the rage was deep fear. His mouth softened as he took her in.

"Caroline," he breathed.

She didn't move. "Klaus. Are you…better? Rebekah told me what happened last night."

He sighed. "Unlocking the wolf has been the only good to come of all this. Everything else has been a nightmare."

"They told me we've been married for over 600 years," Caroline said. "And that any memories in which you were there have been scrambled. But I still remember so much."

He smirked at her. "Would you prefer I remained glued to your side for six centuries? I love you more than anything, but we've had independent desires, aspirations, lives. There was only one true separation. We've had quite the run, my wife."

She shook her head and laughed a little. "I suppose doing everything together would get old after a while."

"Tends to take the mystery out of life," he teased.

She smiled at him a moment longer, allowing herself to get caught in his gaze. His intensity, combined with the fact that he knew virtually everything about her when she remembered nothing about him, unsettled her. Yet she could not deny he was the most attractive and captivating person she'd ever met. His physique was lithe and compact, but he had an imposing presence about him that made him seem taller than he was. She liked that he wasn't all muscle, anyway. She figured she'd been staring too long, but when her gaze slid from his necklaces to his dark blue-green eyes, he was staring back openly. Once again, she could see rage and fear warring in his expression.

"What's happened?" she asked. "Is it about Silas?"

"Can you read me so well?" he diverted.

She narrowed her eyes. "Something's upsetting you, and it's not just me."

He climbed up the rest of the stairs to lean against a column. "We discovered who awoke him."

"Who?" she asked.

"My parents," he hissed.

She frowned. "If you're Rebekah and Elijah's brother, that means…. Oh. Mikael. Esther."

"Yes, Mikael and Esther, the gifts that keep on giving."

"Isn't Esther dead?"

"According to Silas, Esther has been planning this with Mikael for years, if not decades. Mikael wanted Silas to distract and weaken us while he resurrected her."

"Silas and Mikael are working together?"

He laughed without humor. "No, Silas was a red herring. Mikael has the Cure, and he's using it as leverage over him. Silas did not come here to help him. He came to get his revenge. By breaking my curse, Silas made me stronger than Mikael. He and Esther will be furious when they realize I'm a hybrid."

"I don't know which is worse: Silas or your parents having the Cure."

"Silas is a pawn. His agenda is separate from ours. My parents, however, seek to turn my siblings and I into humans. And we think Esther might know where the Anchor is located. God, no wonder I killed her," he muttered.

She gaped at him. "You killed your own mother?"

He opened his mouth then closed it with a sigh.

"Hey, I'm not judging you. I almost killed my mother once. I probably would have if not for Bekah's interference," she confessed. Her hand hovered over his chest awkwardly before settling on his bicep. She felt compelled to touch him in any way possible.

He smiled and placed his hand over hers. His touch was like fire, nearly distracting her from the sight of their matching wedding bands. "I know."

She visibly deflated, pulling away to wrap her arms around her torso. "I'm sure you do."

Klaus grazed the back of his hand under her chin and waited for her to meet his searing gaze. "We'll get your memories back, Caroline. I promise."

She smiled her gratitude and walked towards the swing to escape his intensity. She sat down and tried to make sense of everything he'd said about Silas and Mikael and Esther. "What's the plan for Silas?"

He shrugged. "Mariko and Pacari will continue to guard him, but we need to focus our attention on the greater threat."

She massaged her temples with a frown. "Silas is the greater threat. He's a thousand years older than all of you, and his physic abilities are frighteningly powerful. If he manages to find and destroy the Anchor-"

"Yes, yes – apocalypse, we know," he interrupted impatiently. "But he came here to give Mikael the middle finger. My parents want to take our immortality."

"Silas' dominance cannot be ignored."

"No, but Mikael and Esther – that's been my entire life. Running from him. Trying to reclaim the part of myself they robbed me of," he shook his head in disgust. "Elijah deciphered the Hunter's marks. There's only one dose of the Cure."

She bit her lip. "But that's a good thing."

"I wish I could agree, but Mikael has it and he's about to raise the witch who created the vampire species. You're half witch – what do you think Esther will do with it?"

Caroline was silent.

"Replication is my best bet, though my mother has a big imagination. I know your memory is not up to-"

"Alright! I get it; there's no reason to be a dick. I'm trying to protect my friends, which, by the look of things," she gestured towards the house, "is not going so well. Silas came to Mystic Falls for you, and now you're saying your parents are coming as well. The selfless thing to do would be to leave so no one else gets hurt."

Klaus reeled back as if she had slapped him. "And where would you have us go? New York? London? It wouldn't matter – the doppelgänger lives here. This town would and does have problems with or without us. You've known these brats for two bloody years, Caroline!"

"Don't call them that!"

He flashed across the porch and entered her personal space, hovering over her and holding the chains on the swing to prevent it from moving. "I appreciate your compassion, sweetheart, but I'm talking about the survival of the family."

"I care about your family."

"It's not my family, it's OUR FAMILY!" he roared.

They glared at each other. The front door opened, and Stefan popped his head out.

"Uh, hey," he muttered. "Could you two maybe move this conversation elsewhere?"

Klaus broke eye contact with Caroline, nostrils flaring. "I was just leaving, Rippah." He disappeared.

Stefan turned to her with a confused look. "Why did he just call me that?"

She made a choked noise somewhere between a scoff and a snort. "Like I would know, Stefan!"

Elijah arrived in New Orleans in the middle of the night and was ensconced in the deepest part of the library of their old home with his head bent over one of his mother's grimoires when the shrill ring of his cellphone startled him. He rubbed his eyes drearily before answering. Any news from Mystic Falls lately was terrible news. He glanced at the screen before swiping at the infernal device. Elijah detested the 21st century. Everything was glib and effortless, allowing insincerity and laziness to flourish.

"Yes, sister?"

"Elijah, you need to return right away," Rebekah said.

"What's happened now? I got your text this morning about Niklaus' curse and subsequent turning."

He had spent a long time staring at the text. While he was happy for his brother, he couldn't help but fear for mankind.

"The person who woke Silas up stole the Cure from him."

"Who?"

"Mikael," she said, her voice crackling over the phone.

Elijah's heart sank.

"Are you sure?"

"Pacari probed Silas' mind. It's true, and it gets worse. Mikael's going to raise Esther," she announced.

"Damnit!" He pounded his fist on the table. "How did he get her body?"

"You missed a lot when you were ignoring us," was her bitter rebuke.

Elijah winced guiltily because she was right.

"When should we expect you?"

"A few days. I need to pick something up along the way. Or should I say, someone."

"Elijah, what-?"

"Good-bye, sister. Keep me posted."

He ended the call and pocketed the phone. Blowing out a deep breath, he leaned back in his seat and stared up at the domed stained-glass window above him. It had been designed by Louis Comfort Tiffany – a truly priceless artifact. The tiny shards of glass gave the impression of a translucent mosaic, carefully arranged in the image of a rising sun bursting through the clouds. It was stunning.

He stood up and packed the grimoires into his briefcase.

I'll be damned if that dawn turns into our sunset.

Rebekah threw the phone on the coffee table and rested her elbows on her knees, pulling at her hair. She was still at the Boarding House. They'd collectively decided to watch Silas as often as possible in case he tried to break out.

"Is he coming?" Pacari asked from across the library. After letting him watch Silas for a measly three hours, Mariko had taken over again. While Rebekah called Elijah and their allies in the supernatural community, he'd been attempting to create counter spells to the Immortals Witch's psychic powers.

She glanced up. "Yes. But he said he had to pick someone up on the way."

"Did he say who?"

"He was bloody mum on that," she grumbled.

He crossed the room and sat beside her. They each ruminated on the current situation before Rebekah broke the silence.

"Where are you going when this is all over?"

He shot her a quizzical look.

"I released you from your obligation to teach at Des Cendres. What will you do next?" she elaborated.

He shook his head. "The school is my home. Besides, I'm too invested in the girls to abandon them. I'll return to Tibet."

"They're lucky to have you."

"You flatter me. And you?"

She considered it. "I miss London. Although, it has been a long time since I've seen the Himalayas. It might be nice to visit." She punctuated the flirtatious suggestion by reaching out to trace the Chakana tattoo on his forearm.

His dark gaze blazed into her. "I would like that," he purred, readjusting so he was facing her. He raised the arm she wasn't stroking and curled a finger in her hair.

Her cheeks flushed as she felt his gaze, but she kept her eyes on his arm. She moved from the Chakana to the new feather tattoo. "When did you get this?"

His voice was raspy. "Last year – Gita did it."

She nodded. Her fingertips slid over a crooked dagger near his wrist, which she circled sensually.

"Bekah…"

Her heart stopped.

"Rebekah? What is it?"

She tore her eyes away from the dagger and met his worried stare. "I know who Elijah is getting."

Caroline sighed as she slammed the car door. To say it had been a rough day was a severe understatement. She needed a long hot shower, a nice warm bag of B-positive, and her bed. Her fight with Klaus lay heavy on her mind – he had gotten under her skin and she didn't like it. She liked control.

Liz was already asleep in her room. Good. She had no desire to explain the day's events to the sheriff. In the shower, she tried to forget about everything and focus on her memories. So many of them were jostled, out of place and unconnected to places or faces. It was infuriating. She assumed any haziness was due to Klaus' presence.

By the time the water ran cold, she was more uptight than she'd been before.

In her room, she flung the towel carelessly in the direction of her bed and made for the dresser.

"Here's a sight I haven't seen in far too long," Klaus murmured from across the room, the towel clenched in his hands and a smirk on his face as he admired her backside.

She whirled around and put her hands on her hips. She had lived nearly nine centuries – she was comfortable in her own skin.

"Normal people knock," she admonished him.

"Do they? You'll have to tell me about normal people one day. I don't know any myself," he said in a teasing tone.

"What do you want, Klaus?" she snapped.

He gave her a tentative smile. "I wanted to apologize. I should not have lost my temper like that. It is hard for me to be rational when discussing my parents – especially my father. You don't remember this, but my relationship with Mikael is fraught, to put it mildly. Once he discovered I loved you, it became his life's mission to kill you."

"Is that why I'm a hybrid? You were concerned about me?"

His face twitched in amusement. "Concerned is not the word I would use to describe it, but yes, for the most part. Do you remember any of your confrontations with him?"

"I remember enough," she muttered darkly. "My memory of getting stabbed in the heart with the White Oak Stake is quite clear."

He winced. She grabbed the first piece of clothing she saw and closed the dresser.

"I know he's a threat. But Silas wouldn't have told you who released him unless he had something to gain," she said as she pulled the oversized jersey over her head.

"Oh, I agree. He did not tell us about our parents out of charity – he's definitely distracting us. But it doesn't matter."

"I guess that's true," she admitted. "I accept your apology. I'm sorry for suggesting you leave. That was rude and childish."

"Consider it forgotten," he said.

His gaze slid over her now half-dressed form. When they locked eyes, she saw that his irises were glowing golden. She couldn't help wanting a closer look. The color only grew deeper as she stepped towards him.

"Have your eyes always done that?"

He leaned his forehead against hers, allowing her a better view. "No. It's from reactivating my werewolf side."

She shivered as his warm breath fanned over her. "Are there any other changes?"

"Heightened senses, increased speed and strength, the ability to transform at will, double fangs," he paused to show her his new canines before retracting them, "and the wolf has been demanding I claim my mate since I awoke."

She pulled away from him with a gasp. "Me?"

His answering smirk was full of mirth. "I can't tell if you're being coy, or if your amnesia is making you naïve. Either way, consider me turned-on, love."

She took another step back, and he stalked her until her legs hit the bed. He placed an open-mouthed kiss in the crook of her neck while he entwined his hand with hers. She moaned aloud when he nipped her skin.

A moment later she was flat on her back beneath him. His body was warm and hard against hers. He removed his jacket and threw it on the floor, allowing her to admire his lean muscles. She wound her hand through his necklaces then stroked his stubbled jawline.

"I don't know if I can give you what your wolf needs," she murmured. "But I will gladly try."

His chest rumbled with laughter.

"What? You're probably the sexiest man I've ever been with – and I'm assuming you're very good at this. Believe me, I'm excellent at predicting the skillset of potential lovers."

He stopped laughing to cup her jaw and kiss the skin right under her earlobe. He pressed his pelvis into hers so she could feel his desire. "Car-o-line…" he sighed.

"Yes?" She squirmed into his hardness, but he pulled away.

"Now is maybe not the moment to discuss your past conquests."

She blushed. "I'm sure you're aware I talk too much when I'm nervous."

He seemed satisfied with that answer. "Oh, yes." He leant back to stroke her smooth leg, coiling his hand around her ankle. "Am I making you nervous, my love?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but his next movement halted her words. While his left hand arched into the sole of her foot, his right slithered up her inner thigh and toyed with the bottom of the jersey.

"That's new. I don't think you've ever been nervous while making love to me," he crooned.

Her breath hitched. "Not – not even the first time?"

Suddenly, his face was an inch away from hers. His smirk deepened. "That would be a hard no."

She wanted to ask about it, but a sad look crossed his features. He lay down beside her and twisted their legs together, forcing her to face him. His hands tangled into her hair.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Could I share a memory with you?"

"Is it of our first time?"

"I wanted to show you our wedding."

"Oh."

"May I?" he asked eagerly, and he looked so soft and innocent and hopeful that she could not deny him. Besides, she wanted to know about their life together.

"Alright," she said. "Where did we marry?"

"In the Hagia Sophia, 1402. I've always known people in high places." He winked, and she realized his eyes had returned to their normal blue-green color. His hands slid from her hair to her temples. Without warning, the memory washed over her.

It was all very fast flashes. They were in a cavernous cathedral under a great domed ceiling. He watched from the altar as she walked towards him with a smile that lit up her face. Despite her heavy robes, she seemed to float down the aisle. Her blond locks were braided with silk and jewels and her eyes were rimmed with kohl. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, nor had so much love for another person. She could feel it. The memory jumped forward, and she was making her vows in fluent Latin, her expression solemn. Another jump brought them to the wedding banquet – she was wrapped in his embrace, laughing gaily as he whispered in her ear. Rebekah smiled at them as she danced past. Klaus turned his gaze away from hers for a moment to nod at Elijah and Kol, who stood on the edge of the dance floor. Another jump. She was gazing at him seductively over the rim of a wine goblet. Another jump, and she was stripping her robes off in their bedchamber as he watched from the bed. She could viscerally feel his anticipation and hunger. Jump. She was writhing under him as he thrust into her from behind; he admired the way her bare flesh juxtaposed against the red sheets and lost himself in how wet she was. Jump. His head was cradled between her soft thighs, his mouth pleasuring her. She moaned loudly and threw her head back. Jump. They were face to face thrusting wildly. Her fangs were out; she was feeding from his chest. He roared and bit into her neck, blood dripping down her throat and onto her breasts. Jump. They were lying postcoital on the bed, limbs entwined, dried blood on their naked bodies.

"My blood and my heart call for you alone. You shall be my last, Caroline," he whispered as she shuddered with aftershocks.

The first thing Caroline noticed when the flashback faded was how wet she was. The second was that she had thrown her leg around Klaus' hip.

Klaus wasn't quite as smug as she thought he would be – in fact, he looked rattled. His eyes were golden again and his expression strained.

"We blood-share?" she asked dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

"Of course," he said, massaging the skin where her backside met her thigh. "As recently as two days ago."

"I don't remember blood-sharing with another vampire."

After a beat, a self-satisfied smile spread across his face.

"What?"

"If you have no memory of doing it, that means you only ever did it with me," he crooned.

"Wouldn't you already know that?"

"Ah, no. We still have some secrets."

She grabbed his chin and kissed him. His response was immediate. They rolled around on the bed, clutching and stroking feverishly. She nipped his lower lip and slid her tongue into his mouth. They drank each other in in a passionate embrace. She shoved him away after a few moments and ripped his Henley off.

When she spotted his tattoos, she froze. They were very similar to hers. In fact, it was almost as if they were matching. She blinked at him in confusion.

He placed her palm over the feather. "It was the same artist, but the birds have different meanings," he said to her unasked question.

She bent forward to suck on one of the little black birds. With or without her memories, she was certain she'd never been so turned-on before. His knuckles skimmed across her wet folds and she hissed in a breath. It felt like her skin was ablaze. All her nerve-endings tingled, and her core ached to be touched, stroked, filled. She thrust into his hand.

Then, once again, she was flat on her back. But this time, he was not on top of her. She sat up to frown at him as he put his shirt back on.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

When he turned back around, she could see the turmoil in his golden eyes. He knelt beside her and splayed a hand on her calf.

"Spending the night at the Salvatores. Would you believe me if I said sex with you without your memories would feel like cheating?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "No, I wouldn't."

A brief smile flashed across his face. "You'd be right."

"So then why?"

He rubbed a figure-eight design into her skin, then leaned into her ear and sucked on her earlobe. She arched into the bed. He licked it before pulling away again.

"I'm furious about your amnesia, Caroline – don't doubt that. But I also see this as a rare gift," he confessed.

"How?"

He smirked. "We did not have a traditional courtship. We were friends for a long time before we got together. Granted, we always had electrifying sexual chemistry."

She laughed.

"But essentially, we weren't together, and then we were. I am going to take advantage of my chance to properly woo you."

"Consider me wooed," she whispered.

He placed a soft, fluttering kiss on her flushed lips and made for the window. "Good things come to those who wait, love."

"If you leave me like this, I'm finishing myself," she warned.

A growl filled the room. "Good. Think about me. And Caroline?"

"Yes?"

He was at her side once more, hovering over her. With one swift motion, he ripped the jersey she wore in two. "Now you can pleasure yourself."

His intense gaze burned into her bare skin for one fleeting second, and then he was gone.

She leaned up and grabbed at the jersey in confusion. Her expression cleared when she realized what was boldly printed on the back.

LOCKWOOD.

She must have accidentally stolen it from Tyler during one of the full moons. Whoops. She kicked the shredded remnants to the floor.

A gentle breeze wafted over her trembling body; he'd left the window slightly ajar. Perhaps he would linger outside for a few moments in the hopes of overhearing her – or perhaps he just wanted her to think he would do that.

Caroline slid her hand between her thighs with a smirk. She'd never minded a bit of voyeurism.

Elijah's Bentley passed moss-covered oaks as it rolled down the winding path. This estate in the northwest corner of South Carolina had a prime location halfway between New Orleans and Mystic Falls. As the old plantation house came into view, he could understand why Niklaus had chosen it. Mysterious and foreboding, the great white manor loomed through the trees like the ghost of antebellum past. Elijah braked and exited. He retrieved his effects from the trunk, then entered the manor and ran up to the attic, as Niklaus had instructed.

His brother had been reluctant to tell him the location when he'd asked for it the previous day, but he couldn't argue with Elijah's reasoning. Rebekah knew too – she had figured it out, confirmed with Niklaus, and then texted him in all caps:

ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLOODY MIND?

No, he wasn't, and he did not appreciate the insinuation.

He approached the casket slowly. He had a cooler of blood bags grasped in one hand and an old key in the other. He murmured a soft prayer in Norwegian before turning the key and deftly opening the lid. The sight that greeted him filled him with morbid shock, but he did not waste time. He dropped the cooler and wrapped his hands around the handle of the dagger embedded deep in the vampire's heart and wrenched it out. A terrible ripping sound filled the forgotten attic. Meticulous as ever, Elijah wiped the dagger down and placed it in a slim black case which he snapped shut. He settled into an armchair with his gaze focused on the desiccated body.

"And now, brother, we wait."

A/N: I got rid of the Immortality Reversal Spell to both streamline the narrative and force Esther and Mikael to rely on the Cure. Keeping track of all TVD canon is a real headache; the writing is riddled with plot holes, convoluted storytelling, and farfetched depictions of history - - You're asking me to believe that Mystic Falls, which is located in the middle of Virginia where 120 Civil War battles were fought, was virtually impervious to the combat in 1864. To quote Caroline, "Seriously?!" Or, in my words, "Get the fuck outta here."

Thanks for reading. ~L