Chapter Eighteen, The day of the Sacrifice
The day was sunny, unusually hot for a Mayday and I'd coiled myself up on the window-seat, legs thrown over the windowsill and eyes closed. No one had found me yet and I hadn't managed to escape. Not even when I'd been in Greta's care. Which was sad, wasn't it? She was not that much older than me.
She'd only just turned twenty and had she turned on me physically, I was sure I would have been able to fight her off. As it was, I hadn't managed to fight her off when she used magic on me, while mine was muted. Still there but unreachable. As it was, I hadn't managed to uplift whatever cloaking spell Klaus had told his witch to place on her. I'd managed to give her the slip when she'd taken me out to some creepy voodoo shop.
She'd been busy discussing some creepy ritual and I'd almost managed to slip away too, when she'd hit me with the worst migraine ever.
When I woke up, we were in Alaric apartment. Alaric's apartment where Klaus had body-snatched my history teacher and locked up my sister's evil shadow self. Which was— wonderful. Well, I supposed the rule Klaus had instated of Katherine not murdering me or removing body parts was somewhat helpful. The natural protection of a witch's resistance against compulsions was helpful too.
I exhaled noisily, adjusting my legs, the spring weather had edged into summer and my head lolled back against the wooden window pane. Canopies of the sultry, late-morning sun filtered in and felt bright yet perfectly comfortable against my closed, sunglasses-protected eyelids. Katherine was raiding the fridge and the closets for what I thought must have been alcohol. I didn't particularly care, with what, the apartment smelling strongly of the pungent scent of stale coffee beans and stretched my legs. With the lack of blood bags, Katherine had decided to become a coffee addict and when something toppled over, I peered curiously over the rims of my sunglasses.
Katherine peered back, dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a blue tank-top. Her expression was odd and pushed my glasses up my head.
"What are you doing?"
"Bourbon," she grinned and turned the volume of the radio up. I'd been at Alaric's apartment for all but a day and was already ready to strangle Katherine. She drove me more insane than Elena did with her similar whiplash personality. Or, how old Elena would have called it, being fun. I'd call it reckless and stupid. Katherine swaggered over, waggling her fingers at me, inviting me to join.
I felt a brow rise sceptically. "Are you sure this is wise. With 'Original Murderous' out—"
"He didn't say I couldn't dance and drink, Samantha," she dryly replied and took a large swig straight from the bottle. "And honestly, do you need to be such a bore? I thought you were the fun sister."
"No, that was Elena—"
"Oh come on, didn't you steal a police car. Wreck to boot and danced on its remaining ashes?"
"Well, I do not require alcohol to be fun." I returned scathingly and stretched one leg towards the sun. I was quite sure it was the day of the sacrifice and no matter how much faith I'd put into Elijah's promise to keep my sister safe, I felt my nerves surge through my stomach. Taking off my sunglasses, I peered at Katherine again, at the bottle of bourbon she was waggling at me.
"Fine," I agreed, jumping off the windowsill, "but we're ordering takeaway too."
"Food won't stop my cravings, Sam!"
"Right," I agreed, "the blood thing."
"Yes, Sam," she agreed and I felt vaguely guilty. She pushed the bottle in my hand and I took a large gulp. The liquid burned down my throat and I exhaled gratefully.
"How long until you—"
"Until I rip your head off? And Klaus will start removing my limbs?" She sneered and I took another sip before stalking into the kitchen, set the bottle on the counter and filled a glass of water. Adding some salt, I sat on the edge of the kitchen table. Water with salt tasted disgusting but it should suffice for now. I could always order some iron-rich foods afterwards, I thought numbly. Bustling my sleeve up over my elbow, I met her gaze, her surprised gaze.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you think?" I retorted in the same scathing tone she always used on me and drew a finger over the pale inside of my wrist. "There; I'm offering."
"What?"
"Klaus told you, you couldn't attack me," I explained. "I'm offering. That's an entirely different story. There, loophole found." I told her dryly, thinking that offering was far less dangerous than waiting for her to lose her cool and snap my neck in the process. "Besides, there are such things as bandages."
The pale veins of the inside of my wrist stood out sharply in the hard kitchen light and dark veins started to crawl beneath Katherine's eyes. I'd learned that older vampires had a stronger control, but now— I supposed that whatever control she might have had, had just shattered.
She snatched my arm and tugged me close. I winced as she sank her teeth into the paper-thin skin of my wrist, without any restraint, crowding me up against the counter and my other hand found purchase on the edge of the wooden counter, my grip tight and my shoulders locked. It was weird— scary really hearing and feeling someone swallow blood from my veins. The excess of the dark, murky liquid, so scarlet and thick, started to drip down and, even over the loud, blaring music, I thought I heard it drip down on the hard wooden floor.
Katherine's grip tightened, tight enough to leave bruises, and I watched numbly as she followed the line the blood made, on its way down the side of my wrist towards the descend to the floorboards.
A bit of dizziness surged through me and I tried tugging at her hand. "Katherine," I whispered urgently and tugged at my arm, at her vice-like-grip, when I started to feel lightheaded, "Katherine, that's enough! Stop!"
She released me so suddenly, I stumbled over my own feet and my lower back hit the counter, hard. I clumsily tore of some kitchen paper and pressed it tightly against my wrist, making sure I could apply enough pressure before sitting down on one of Alaric's impersonal kitchen-chairs.
Katherine was still breathing heavily as if the bloodlust was still raging and I mentally went through the menu card of the Grill. I could order two burgers; they were salty enough to help my sudden case of anaemia to recover easily. Or at least, so I thought. Besides, I hadn't had any other choices.
Niklaus obviously wasn't used to dealing with humans and their appetites (although if alcohol and beans in a can were considered as satiable foods, then I supposed he was used to it), but at least he'd been considerate enough to leave a large amount of paper money behind. I could order food. And then eat it while Katherine had orders to compel the delivery boy to forget seeing us.
"How bad is it?"
"It's fine—" I shrugged, "—could you find me the first aid kit, so I can fix this up and we can order burgers and fries?"
"Right," Katherine mumbled, her face morphing into a sneer as she searched through the cabinets. I pressed my wrist and the reddened kitchen paper between my knees and reached for the landline, before dialing the number of the Grill and ordered two three hamburgers, extra fries and ketchup.
"You probably have the metabolism of a ferret if you can eat that and not get fat."
"It's not just for me."
Katherine scrunched her nose in disgust. "Wonderful—"
The food arrived twenty minutes later. I was patched up again, dipping fries into the Grill's special mayonnaise, and sharing the bourbon bottle of bourbon with Katherine. The vampire was well in the lead but had the added bonus of having a supernatural alcohol tolerance.
I had the added bonus of having been a party girl— whatever bonus that might have been. After dinner, we silly danced through the living room. Which had only been briefly interrupted by the arrival of Damon Salvatore and his bouncing girlfriend Andie Star (who I'd actually seen on the television before), demanding to know where Niklaus — 'Why the fuck do you call Klaus that?'
Damon had demanded — kept Caroline and Tyler captured and I'd felt rather ill. I hadn't even considered their safety, for some reason I'd expected Niklaus to just magically conjure a vampire and a werewolf, which of course, was stupid, and not go after people I know.
How the fuck could I have forgotten that Niklaus went after Katherine's family. How could I have forgotten? How could I not have thought about my friends' and family's safety?
To what I suspected was to get into my sister's good books again, Damon even offered to get me out of Alaric's apartment. Which wouldn't work, of course? If he tried, Katherine would fracture my spine (as ordered by Klaus) and thereby there was, again, a spell imprisoning me into the apartment. I had no choice but to sit tight.
And that is what we did when the Original returned home. Klaus obviously knew something was up as soon as he walked into the apartment. The music was still blaring loudly, the bourbon was gone, and Katherine and I were sitting quietly together, resting shoulder to shoulder, onto Alaric's red couch. Of course, we looked guilty as fuck. The Original's eyes narrowed perceptually and the line of his mouth tightened before he smiled at us, crossing the room.
"Well, well, isn't this cosy?" He grinned and I'd seen that smile before and curled my leg up, jostling the paper bag full of dirty napkins and even a few stray fries. "Does the music have to be so loud?"
Katherine, as if stung, turned the radio down immediately and Klaus swaggered further inside, smiling, dimples flashing. The last time he smiled like that, he'd kidnapped me and I curled my arm tighter around my knee. He moved into the kitchen and Katherine nudged me, beckoning her head in his direction.
'Why me?' I mouthed and she rolled her eyes as if a standoffish response from me would be less likely to end in (my) blood being shed, than a scathing remark from her. I sighed, crossed my arms over my chest and stepped into the kitchen, filled with the scent of roasted coffee beans. Klaus had taken a mug from one of the cabinets and was making coffee from the espresso machine.
It was such an odd sight, I stared. When he offered me the mug I accepted without even a raised eyebrow. He'd made me a cappuccino, the foam perfect and I sniffed slowly.
"Still think I'm trying to poison you?"
"Not really," I muttered, dipping my finger in the cappuccino foam and drew a silly picture around the rim before taking a long sip. It was good.
"What's the plan?" I asked slowly. "Where's Elena?"
"She's with Greta," he told me, so strengthened in his belief I could do nothing against him, he didn't even bother lying to me. I really hoped Elijah had given her that serum he was holding onto before Elena's little band of misfits did— whatever it was they'd done to the man and I wrapped both hands around the mug. I knew he had no reason to make sure Elena survived— had no reason to keep his word to me either, but I hoped— Klaus' eyes flitted over me with a feral sort of curiosity and suddenly, he snatched my wrist, catching my coffee mug with his other hand as it fell and dragged me close.
"Accident, Love?" He whispered, his thumb drawing over the bandage on my left wrist.
Even I heard the sharp intake of breath coming from the living room and I grimaced: "I—"
"Played living, breathing blood bag, yes, I gathered." He whispered, setting the mug slowly on the counter and invaded my personal space.
"I— I had to. You left us without sustainment—"
"And you offered?" His grin turned feral. "Are you still offering?"
My intake was sharp, almost painful and a horrible itching started crawling beneath my skin. I tried to pull away from him as he yanked the bandage off my wrist, ripping away the blood clothing with it and dark, pulsing veins started to ripple on the delicate skin around his eyes, the whites turning red. I tugged at my arm again: "No, Klaus, seriously no!"
I was already feeling a bit light-headed, but he just grinned, wrapping an arm around my waist, and took a long exhale from my wrist before dropping the limb and going for my neck. It didn't hurt as bad as the last time he'd bitten me, but I gasped either way when he drew blood, and my hands stilled just before I'd tried pushing him away (which wouldn't work anyway), my hands twisting into his shirt.
My heartbeat sounded loud in my ears, buzzing like a swarm of bees and I felt my knees buckle under my weight. He caught me easily, drawing me closer and angling my head for better access to my neck. I tried to keep my breathing even. Tried, being the keyword, but it was hard, especially as nausea started to grip at my insides.
When he let go of my neck I hung rather limply in his arms, my fingers fisted tight-knuckled around his collar and my head was lolled to the side. The blood, already cooling in the chilly kitchen air, dripped audibly on the floor and was only drowned out by my harsh, uneven breathing.
The same blood fanned across his mouth and chin when he looked at my face, grinning. "You're learning. Well done, Love." He crooned and crowed me up against the hard, wooden kitchen wall, bracketing my body with both arms.
My stomach lurched at the sight of my blood, smeared so casually over his face. Much like warpaint and his mouth twisted into something akin to a grin, but much darker than I'd seen before. My heart skipped a beat. I was pretty sure he'd taken a bit too much, with Katherine having fed from my wrist only a few hours before, and tried to keep my breathing even. His face swimming before my eyes—
"Tell me, Love, what was the human and Damon Salvatore doing here?"
"How— do you—"
"My nose is a lot better than Katerina's, Little Witch."
"Right," I mumbled, noticing that the blood from my wrist was being transferred to his red button-up. I could feel his body heat radiating from his skin through his blouse and I was now close enough to see the specks of light brown in his blue eyes.
Katherine was still in the living room, pretending I wasn't being bullied— again— and I inhaled deeply. I used to think I was strong. Physically and mentally. I used to think if I tried hard enough I could be strong— but I wasn't really strong enough. His expression turned a bit unreadable and I forcefully forced the conversation back to my sister. "What— What does it matter anyway? Where did Greta take Elena?"
He snorted: "Are you trying to interrogate me, Sweetheart?"
I grinned, the blood loss making me feel braver: "Is it working? Or are you planning on taking another bite out of my neck?"
"Still offering?"
"Wouldn't be recommendable, I think," I replied woozily and he eyed me suspiciously, eyes zeroing in on the erratically beating, adjacent vein in my neck, still bleeding freely from the recent bite-wound.
"No," he agreed and he said something else but the sound of my blood pounding in my ears was so loud, it drowned out what other words might have conveyed between vision swum again, and my body ached slightly.
His bracketing arms around me fell away and he looped an arm around my waist. "No, definitely not." He agreed and bit his wrist, offering the appendage to me.
I didn't fight when he pressed the limb against my lips, knowing he would probably force-feed me it if I tried resisting him. Still, I almost chocked when his blood coated the inside of my mouth, coppery and warm trickling down my throat and it tasted— odd. It didn't taste the way I would have guessed blood would taste like and Klaus' other hand pressed to the back of my head. It was slightly uncomfortable, its magic buzzing through my veins. When he let me go, his blood was dripped down my chin and I was coughing, only adding to the large stains at the front of my shirt — his shirt really.
I'd tasted Vampire blood before, but it seemed an Original's blood possessed a power, even my human tastebuds noticed. He drew a finger across my newly healed neck, and for some reason, my heart was racing, beating fast against my ribs, sweat beading at my hairline.
"Again, Sweetheart, why was Damon Salvatore here?"
"He wanted to know who your star players were," I whispered.
"My star players?"
"Your witches, I assume. Tried to get me out as well. Thought it would be helping Elena overcome some grievance with him— I don't know—" I stated, knowing that the best way to lie was to use as much truth in your lies as you could. I'd always been able to outmaneuver my peers, but even I was wary to try Klaus on. Nevertheless, that would not stop me from trying.
"Well, I can ask him myself, can't I?" He stated and I frowned.
"What?"
"I wasn't aware you were invited in," Klaus demanded loudly, licking his bloody finger and stepped away from me. I breathed out gratefully and followed him from a safe distance. The front door lunged open and Damon Salvatore flashed into the living room.
I gaped at the eldest Salvatore brother stupidly, I couldn't believe he would come here while Klaus was there. I might not have known Klaus could tell he'd been here— but Damon— Probably didn't know either. "Are you seriously that stupid? What are you doing here?"
"Hello to you too," Damon sneered and stalked up to Klaus, eyes flicking briefly over to the blood on his chin and then to me, but I wasn't his main priority. To Damon, no one except my sister was his main priority and I rubbed my hands together. "You need to postpone the ritual."
Klaus smile turned predatory, eyes flashing: "Didn't we already have this conversation?"
"Yeah," Damon agreed and I averted my eyes to my wrist. Blood crusted to unblemished, pale skin. "But that was before I rescued your werewolf and vampire and killed your witch."
My eyes squeezed closed, my breath escaping me in a grateful sigh. That meant my sister would live another day, didn't it?
"Excuse me?"
"And you can kill me for it. I don't care. It was all me." Damon sneered stepping even closer to Klaus, who looked frightening, with blood smeared across his faces and his cold blue eyes seemed amused.
"Katerina, Samantha, give us a moment," Klaus said, his eyes fixated on Damon. Katherine hurried away, grabbing my wrist in passing and yanked me after her, back into the kitchen where a small pool of blood was drying on the wooden floor. I sat down beside the door, side of my head turned to the small gap and Katherine sat down in a kitchen chair.
"I knew one of you would try to stop me," Klaus said, again sounding amused. "It was just a fifty-fifty guess on who. The nice thing about werewolves is they tend to travel in packs."
Soft gasps and moans filled the living room and I curiously peeked through the gap. Both men were now standing in front of the living room table, staring at the open laptop screen. Damon's face looked rather sickly. "Jules."
I froze and remembered a young woman in her mid-twenties with blue eyes and medium length blonde hair, soaking wet from the rain, looking apathetically as she stepped in the middle of the road, just before I had my car accident. My fingers spasmed, curling into fists and my nails dug into the palms of my hands. My anger had dissipated over the last three weeks, so had the need for vengeance, but a large part of me was happy it was her and not Tyler—
Although, where was Tyler? He'd been travelling with Jules, hadn't he? My mouth turned sandpaper dry when I understood what Werewolf Damon had saved.
"When you spend a thousand years trying to break a curse, you learn a thing or two." Klaus grinned, unperturbed with Damon's interference. "The first rule, always have a backup. Back-up werewolf, back-up witch…"
"Back-up vampire." Damon finished off Klaus' sentence and I closed my eyes trying to push my mounting anger away.
"I've got that covered too," Klaus whispered and I almost didn't get that. He flashed forward and with a snap, broke Damon's neck, knocking him out cold. I struggled to my feet, pushing the kitchen door open, holding onto the doorjamb so tight, my knuckles turned white.
"What did he mean by that?"
"Love?"
I cleared my throat, feeling the magic surge through my veins even though I couldn't reach it. "You were going to sacrifice Tyler?"
Klaus smirked: "Ah yes, the boyfriend?"
"No," I disagreed stepping further into the living room, my eyes averting to the laptop screen. My hands trembling, my face flushing in anger. Jules was writhing on a dark ground, a cave probably, her face clammy and expression as if in agony, "Why isn't she turning?"
"A spell," he answered absentmindedly, again not lying to me.
I felt my anger wane slightly, my eyebrows furrow together as I understood something. "Tyler and this vampire were bait?"
"Very good, Sweetheart." He agreed patting my cheek and my insides wrung together.
"Then who's your back-up vampire?" I asked, my eyes flitting over Damon's form and Klaus sneered at him.
"Yes," he muttered, turning to Katherine who'd entered the living room having found another bottle of Bourbon. "Katerina, I need you to call Aunt Jenna," Klaus ordered, offering her his cellphone— no Elena's cellphone— and I froze.
"What?" I whispered as Katherine took it and I watched her scroll through the contacts, the brightness from the device lighting her face in a strange greenish hue. "What!?"
"I'm a vampire short, Love," he admitted, flippantly rolling his shoulders and I shook my head, trying to think of something to say, something to do.
Aunt Jenna, who loved Elena, Jeremy and me, who tried her hardest she could to take over the tasks of our mother. She'd dropped everything, practically putting her own life on hold and took up where my mother had left off. If she got a phone call from Katherine, who sounded or could sound exactly like Elena, she would come over immediately. Would rush into danger because she thought her niece needed her and my stomach turned violently.
"No!" I gasped and crossed the room catching Klaus' wrist (even though he could easily shake me off). "No, please! You can't do that!"
"I can do whatever, I like, Sweetheart."
"You can't take another one of our family! Please, Jeremy needs someone— Needs Aunt Jenna— Please, you can practically take anyone you like! But not her! Not another one of our family!"
"I could," he agreed and Katherine had stopped typing, "but don't you think it's almost biblical? Aunt and niece, both die for the greater good?"
He was toying with me, baiting me. Reacting, meant giving him power, meant pushing him and ensuring Aunt Jenna's death. I had to play it well. I wished I could manipulate him. I just wasn't sure how. I just— "I— Aunt Jenna, she isn't our real family, Klaus." I stuttered out, face paling, bile raising. "Me and Elena? We actually are blood-related. We're actually siblings. What's more biblical than that? Please, I implore you—"
"I need a vampire, Love."
I looked at Damon, unconscious on the floor and he sniggered. "Can't use him, Sweetheart, he's as good as dead."
My breathing had turned rapid again and I knew he could hear the erratic beating of my heart, but I managed to stare back at him unflinchingly. "Then use me." I tried. He must have realized I'd practically offered him my services just a second ago. Perhaps I wasn't clear enough. "I'm her sister. Her real sister—"
"No."
I let out a hollow laugh at his refusal, having expected it and all and Katherine gave me what I thought might have been an almost sympathetic look. "Please, I do anything!"
"Anything huh?"
"Yes," I agreed rapidly, hearing my blood rushing in my ears again because I would. I would betray anyone I needed to betray. I would do whatever it took, go through whatever lengths in order to keep Aunt Jenna safe. And Klaus knew that. "Please!"
"I must admit, Love, you look quite fetching, begging like this."
How much I wouldn't have loved to hit him. I crossed one arm over my chest (lest chance I would actually act out on the impulse) and I felt the oversized sweater slip off my shoulder. The fingers of my right hand were still wrapped around his wrist and he yanked me closer, his nose brushing past mine. I was not entirely sure if he meant to do that or not, but I didn't have the time to dwell on it. My shoulders were squared and I met his eyes even when they darkened. I didn't know what it was he saw or whatever he would ask of me to safe my aunt, but after a moment, he leant back. "Fine, but Sweetheart— I will collect."
I didn't doubt that for a second and released a jagged breath when he turned to Katherine: "Never mind. I'll be out."
I waited for Klaus to leave the apartment and then turned to Katherine, blinking back the tears that blurred my vision: "Do you think he'll—"
"Keep the end of his deal? I can't say."
I wiped the back of my hand across my stinging eyes and bit my lower lip. I really was a horrible person, wasn't I? I truly was…
To be continued…
A/N: And that was chapter seventeen. I hoped everyone enjoyed. As to everyone who commented on this story, thank you so much! I'm a bit behind on replying to everyone, but know your words inspire me. They make me work. They keep me inspired to write. So thank you so much!
I know no one is obligated to leave a review, but, getting reviews is one of the only ways to get better. So, if you want to, let me know what you all think!
