Notes: My last klarolineauweek drabbles for Day Six. It was AU: Mystical Creatures. Enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Fantastic Beasts

(Prompt: Mystic Fails gang engages with the wrong witch and Caroline gets caught in the cross fire (again!). When she grows a tail and scales, it's Klaus who's set on helping her. Rated K+)

The moment she woke up Caroline knew something was wrong. She was freezing and her throat had that middle of an awful cold scratchiness. Her entire body itched. All things that should not have been possible, for a vampire. The lack of sickness, human aches and pains, was a definite perk. Moaning and rolling over, wincing as her sheets scraped against her skin in a way that bordered on pain, Caroline groped for her duvet, wrapping it around herself and curling into a miserable ball.

She shivers for long minutes, confused and uncomfortable, before she pokes her head out of the blanket burrito she'd made, squinting because the sunlight seems unusually bright and stings her eyes.

She's kind of fuzzy on how she'd gotten home last night, remembers Enzo half carrying her and Bonnie fussing around tucking her into bed. They'd come out to visit her, were occupying the pull out couch in her modest apartment in Santander. Caroline kind of remembers trekking out to a vineyard yesterday, taking a wrong turn somewhere and running out of gas.

No problem for her and Enzo, and they'd used the cover of darkness to flash towards the nearest town, Bonnie on his back (with much grumbling and complaining and Twilight allusions that went entirely over Enzo's head).

But that's when things get hazy.

Caroline groans, shifts painfully towards the edge of the bed. She loses her balance, trying to swing her legs over the side. Falls to the floor with a heavy thump and a sharp yelp. She lays there, trying to muster the will to move again, when Bonnie bursts through the door. Caroline turns enough to look at her, clears her throat and manages a weak, "Hey."

Bonnie looks frantic, dropping to her knees and putting her hands on Caroline's face, "You're clammy too. Enzo says he feels off, and the light hurts his eyes. And honestly, Care, you look like crap."

Caroline manages a weak laugh, grimacing because it hurts, "I feel like crap. Super alarming, by the way and I'd be freaking out if I had the energy. What happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

Caroline shakes her head, managing only a tiny movement, her face twisting in pain. Bonnie's hand reaches out tentatively, smoothing her hair as she explains, "There was a camp, and we plowed right through it. Witches. Had to be. But not using a type of magic I'm familiar with. They put you and Enzo down. I fought back, got them to release the aneurysm spell for a minute. You and Enzo managed to kill a few of them but they were really strong. We ran the rest of the way back, but you were a little out of it. You both fed and I thought that would be the end of it."

Closing her eyes Caroline tries to think, remembers diving in with her fangs bared, tearing at flesh that wouldn't give the way a human's would. The muscles and bones denser somehow, her blows doing little damage.

"Help me up," she croaks, and Bonnie does so gingerly. Together, in tiny steps with frequent rests they make their way into Caroline's living room, and Bonnie settles her next to Enzo on the couch, piling both of them with the covers from Caroline's bed. He's dozing, though it seems restless, and Caroline's envious. "Blood," Caroline requests. Bonnie darts to the kitchen and pulls a few bags from Caroline's refrigerator.

She feels a little better, once she's sucked two back. Her head clearer and the pain in her throat eased. "I've lived here two years, with no supernatural scraps. You're here three days and you've pissed off some creepy coven," Caroline jokes haltingly, her shivers growing more violent.

Bonnie doesn't crack a smile, her hands twisting anxiously in her lap. "I don't know what to do, Care."

Caroline closes her eyes, tries to think. "I'm pretty sure there's a witch that runs a bakery not far from here. I was shooed out and told I wasn't welcome and she had a distinctly witchy vibe. Maybe you could check it out? Play the 'Yes, I am a Bennett witch, kiss my ring' card and ask if there are any local covens you should be wary of? It'll give us a place to start."

Bonnie looks thoughtful, "Yeah, that could work. A hint about what branch of magic that was would be very helpful."

"Good to know I'm still a genius with a plan," Caroline tells her, before she leans forward, her body wracked with hoarse coughs. "Ugh, that tasted like a dirty ashtray."

Bonnie collects the blood bags, keeping her grimace mostly hidden, as she holds them with the tips of her fingers. "I'll grab you guys a couple of bottles of water." She's quick, setting them on the counter, and then collecting her bag. "I'll be as fast as I can," she promises.

Caroline manages a wan smile, shifting to try to get comfortable on the couch. It's a nice one, and she's spent many an afternoon slumped on it, reading or Netflix binging. But she just can't seem to find a position that works and it pokes at her awkwardly no matter how hard she tries. Bonnie watches, her face drawn and worried, before she shakes herself and leaves. Caroline gives up on her quest to get comfy, closing her eyes with a sigh.

She'd been doing so well, since leaving Mystic Falls. She hadn't been tortured, had not a single person had attempted to kill her in years. It was the best kind of boring, working and exploring as she saw fit. Living by her whims and no one else's.

Caroline should have known it couldn't last.

She must have managed to drift off, because she's jerked awake by the jingle of keys in her front door. Peeling her eyes open she spies Enzo, her heart jumping at how bad he looks. He's deathly pale, bordering on grey, and his eyes look cloudy. Caroline's entire body throbs, and every little shift she makes feels like her skin's tearing.

Bonnie hurries in, appearing stricken, and Caroline's heart sinks. She wets her lips, "We're screwed, aren't we?"

Bonnie puts a hand to her forehead, takes a deep breath, her face hardening. "Don't say that, Caroline. I can't have you getting defeatist on me."

"What did the witch tell you?" Caroline rasps out.

"They're called the Coven of Aragorn, and they've been around for a really long time. Like, from before this was actually Spain. Very wary of outsiders, and other witches give them a wide berth. But from the stories, they're not entirely human. And they dole out severe punishments for anyone who trespasses on land they've claimed."

"Which we did," Enzo pipes up sounding pained. "Plus that small spot of murder."

The look Bonnie shoots him is incredibly unimpressed. "Yeah, that. And since someone insisted I leave my grimoire at home, I'm kind of working blind." She turns to Caroline, "Do you know anyone who can help us? A vampire you're friendly with, maybe? An older one would be helpful."

If she wasn't sure that squirming in guilt would result in serious agony Caroline would be doing it. "A couple, but they're only a century or two. But…"

Bonnie's eyes narrow, easily reading Caroline, despite the fact that they mostly communicate via email and text these days, "But…" she prods expectantly, and with a tiny edge of impatience.

Caroline spits it out in a rush, "I maybe talk to Klaus. Sometimes."

Bonnie's expression flashes shock, but it quickly turns calculating, "Is he still in New Orleans? Because it would take him forever to get here."

"No. An estate outside of Marseille."

Bonnie's contemplative hum is only a little judgmental. Caroline would bristle, but she doesn't have the energy. Besides, t's not like she'd gone and visited him, despite Klaus making it clear that she was welcome anytime.

Enzo struggles to sit up, "What's the dilemma here? Never met him, but I've heard plenty of stories. In terms of help he's kind of ideal, is he not? Old, powerful, with a vested interest in seeing to the well-being of Gorgeous and her dear friend, yes?"

"Yes," Bonnie says, softening and reaching out for Enzo's hand. "Let's call him." She pulls out her phone, and looks at Caroline with equal parts expectancy and resignation. Caroline rattles off Klaus' number, and Bonnie dials before helping Caroline wedge it between her ear and shoulder.

Caroline holds her breath as the call connects. Klaus' greeting, when it comes, is cool and just a touch wary. He probably doesn't give his number out to just anyone, and Caroline imagines he expects the worst when an unfamiliar one comes in. "Hey," Caroline breathes. "It's me."

His reply is significantly warmer, and amused. Enzo raises an amused eyebrow at her, a hint of a smirk letting Caroline know he's listening. "Lose your phone again, love? I thought you'd learned your lesson last time."

Caroline wants to protest, because it had been one time (in her entire cell phone owning life!), but her inhale catches in her throat, sending her coughing and spasming.

"Caroline?" Klaus asks, sounding alarmed. "What's happened? Isn't this the week your little friends were to arrive?""

"Yeah." She swallows hard, several times, her eyes watering. She might have mentioned Bonnie and Enzo's visit, the last time she and Klaus had spoken. She tries to speak again, but nothing comes out. She drops the phone.

Bonnie grabs it reluctantly, "Hi, Klaus."

"Ah, the Bennett witch. Still bringing trouble wherever you go, I see. And here I thought much of the blame for your predicaments rested with the doppelganger. Where is Caroline?" he demands.

"She's right here. But she's… sick, I guess? We tangled with what I'm told is the Coven of Aragorn yesterday. Ring any bells?"

"Yes," Klaus clips out. "Alarming ones. I'll be there directly."

He hangs up without another word. "Well, that went better than I thought it would," Bonnie mutters.

Caroline manages to huff a soft laugh. Bonnie wordlessly gets up, pulls out more blood. Caroline and Enzo drink it silently. "I'm going to try to have a shower," Caroline says, struggling to heave herself to her feet. "I feel disgusting. My skin's all gritty and gross, like I ran naked through a sandstorm or something."

Bonnie steadies her, with a worried frown, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Caroline's not, but she can't stand sitting there, feeling like she does. She tries to be reassuring, "It's fine, Bon. The blood helped."

"Yell if you need me," Bonnie tells her sternly.

"Yeah, yeah. It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before."

Bonnie cracks a smile, "Ah yes, the good old high school days. Your startling lack of locker room boundaries."

"Hey, I had things to do. Sneaky clothes changing gymnastics were a waste of time."

Bonnie shakes her head, "I've missed you, Caroline."

"Well, duh," Caroline drawls. "Who wouldn't? And don't get sentimental, Bonnie Bennett. Not after lecturing me about being a defeatist."

Bonnie's smile is a little shaky, but she nods tightly, before turning away. Caroline leans heavily on the walls of her apartment, gingerly making her way into the bathroom.

She strips her clothes, movements slow and shaky. Something catches her attention in the mirror, when she bends to work the shower taps, and Caroline turns, brushing her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes widen, because her skin more than felt wrong. It looked wrong, oddly discolored and patchy, greenish and mottled. She reaches back, brushes her fingers over an area, and finds it hard and cool to the touch.

Her heart begins to pound, fear making her stomach churn and clench. Caroline sinks her teeth into her lip, nearly drawing blood. She wants to yell out, get Bonnie to confirm that she's not crazy, that she actually appears to be growing scales.

But there's no point in freaking Bonnie out more, not with help still a couple hours away. She's teased Klaus occasionally about being an insufferable know it all. He always seemed to have a story or an anecdote about something she was interested in, a new thing she'd tried. It's entirely without rancor, because she'd come to genuinely enjoy hearing his perspective on things, finding the areas where their opinions matched and differed.

If he comes through, his bajillion years and paranoid drive to know everything, the thing that saves her, she'll never mock him again.

Okay, fine. That's maybe a little ambitious.

She won't mock him for a solid month. And she'll stop being such a chicken and treat herself to that plane ticket to his neck of the woods that she's almost bought a half a dozen times.

Waking up the next time is difficult, Caroline's mind fighting consciousness as she struggles under a heavy cloud of grogginess. She'd been exhausted after her shower, had made it to her bed largely because she was too stubborn to collapse. She had crawled in naked, the idea of putting on clothes not something she was willing to contemplate. She'd run her hands over her body with something like dread in the shower, finding more places that no longer felt like skin. On her stomach, along her ribcage. Her inner thigh, just above her knee. Each one had sent a new burst of panic through her and she'd retreated to her bed, determined not to let it show.

The heat in the apartment had been cranked up, but Caroline had still felt chilly, and had closed her eyes and called for Bonnie. Insisted that she just wanted to rest, but could Bonnie be the bestest and grab her blankets?

It appears like Bonnie had, because Caroline's under a thick layer of them. She registers a body, crawling into her bed, hands gently shifting her until her back's cradled against a firm chest. She relaxes, knowing it's Klaus. She remembers his scent, thinks she should probably protest, because she's naked here and he hadn't been invited. But he's so warm, she finds herself burrowing into him, tangling their calves together.

She's been trembling, cold despite the warm air around her, and Klaus shushes her, one of his hands dropping to her belly. He sounds resigned, when he speaks, "You do like to get creative with your enemies, don't you, sweetheart?"

"I didn't do anything," Caroline protests.

Klaus rests his forehead on her shoulder, "That particular coven isn't fond of vampires. Kol's fault. I thought we'd gotten rid of them but there must have been a straggler or two."

"The one time I wish you hadn't gotten sloppy with your murdering," Caroline muses.

She feels him smile, but he stays quiet. She kind of wants to ask him to strip, thinking his skin against hers would feel pretty amazing right now. Running hot is a hybrid thing, and she's never been more grateful for it. She clears her throat, battling her apprehension. But Caroline's never backed away from hard truths, "What did they do to us?"

Klaus sighs, "It's incredibly old magic. Creative and meant to inflict pain. Once upon a time the coven was employed by the royal family, devised terrible punishments for trespasses. Forcing a human to shift forms was one of them. It would kill a human in a matter of hours, their bones cracking and tearing through their skin. But your body, the magic that keeps you alive, is fighting it."

"For how long?" Caroline asks, pressing her lips together when her voice wavers.

Klaus hesitates, the motions of his hands continuing, as if he's trying to soothe her, "Days. Maybe a week, if we can't stop it. And then you'll change."

"Into what?" Caroline blurts out, and it comes out cracked in her horror.

"I've heard different stories, never seen it happen myself. There are legends. I've got people securing us a place to stay, somewhere with more space."

He's trying to distract her, but Caroline's not having it. She turns, letting out a pained groan. Klaus goes rigid for a moment, but he helps her, letting her burrow into his shoulder. "What legends?" she mumbles, muffled by his t-shirt.

"I'll stop it, Caroline," he promises, his hands going to her hair. "And if I can't I'll fix it. I promise."

Caroline pulls back enough to look at him, fixes him with a hard glare, "What. Legends. Klaus?"

Klaus sighs, eyes soft and sympathetic. He cups her cheek, his thumb brushing over her jaw. "What do you know of wyverns, love?"

Jumping From The Bow

(Prompt: "i'm a siren and you're a pirate but i decide not to kill u because you're actually really really REALLY cute oh shit" Klaroline au Please! Title from 'Into the Ocean' by Blue October. Rated M-ish? Mild Smut).

Somehow Caroline always feels it, before she hears it. The melody sinks into her skin, dancing along her tendons and bones. The fine hairs on her arms stand on end and she sways, her body betraying her by going pliant and eager. And then the notes hit her, low and sensual. Seductive.

That's usually the point where Kat snaps her neck.

They're all affected by the songs that pour out of the deep along this part of their usual route. But none so much as Caroline. She'd had one leg over the rail the first time they'd sailed this part of the coast. It had been automatic, no thought in her head but more. Of the sound, the feelings it stirred in her. She'd been greedy and desperate and had fought the arms that had attempted to hold her back.

To no avail. She had three decades of vampirism on her, but the rest of the crew still had at least a century more than that. Kat and Enzo had wrestled her off the deck, shoved her into her quarters and held her down until her senses had returned. When she'd come round Kat had been straddling her, looking highly amused, "I know it's been awhile for you, Sweet Pea, but diving into the sea to fuck a siren will not end well."

Caroline had shaken her hair out of her face, sat up on her elbows, "A what?"

"Siren," Enzo had supplied, from where he'd been helping himself to her share of the rum they'd smuggled on one of their recent jobs. She'd been about to scold him (because it wasn't her fault he didn't know how to pace himself) but he'd continued speaking, not heeding her black look in the slightest, "Predators of the deep, luring sailors to their deaths with the power of their songs."

"Those exist?" Caroline had asked.

"Why so skeptical?" Katherine had drawled pointedly. "Vampire."

Caroline had supposed they made a good point.

"They don't do much for us, make us a little tingly but that's easy enough to resist. Not sure why you were gagging to go overboard," Katherine had said, tipping her head to the side and staring at Caroline contemplatively.

Caroline blushes, remembering the images that had flashed through her mind, the hands and mouth that had been stroking her so expertly in her imagination. How she'd twisted and moaned. It had seemed so real. She scrambles for an explanation, "Maybe because I wasn't prepared? If I'd know what was happening I might have been able to fight it."

Enzo had shrugged, and finished the last of his pilfered rum, "I guess we'll see, won't we? There's still the return trip."

It hadn't seemed like an ominous statement at the time, but it kind of turned out to be.

The return trip hadn't been much better. Caroline had once again fallen prey to the Siren's song. Katherine had bitten out an expletive, yanked Caroline by her shoulder, before locking her head between her hands. Caroline had woken up crumpled on the deck (and not happy about it) but she'd been mollified by the snack Kat had brought for her. A man from a town near where they'd docked. He'd been very handsome. She'd contemplated relieving some of her… tension, having woken up achy and damp between her thighs. He'd looked at her with a certain amount of appreciation, and it would have been easy enough to undo her braids, seduce him with soft smiles and fleeting touches. But the idea had left Caroline cold. Something about his dark hair and bulky musculature had put her off.

In the end she'd just drunk from him, and he'd been pretty tasty. She'd even let him live, sending him unsteadily down the gangplank, with a compelled story about getting drunk and wandering through port.

She'd still given Kat the silent treatment for the next three days.

Caroline had secretly hoped that she could avoid another incident like those two. That they'd take jobs that would take them far away from that particular piece of ocean.

But Caroline had never had much luck with wishes, good fortune not a thing she'd ever been able to rely on. She'd become accustomed to scraping and clawing for the things she wanted, carving out the life she wanted.

So she hadn't been surprised when, less than a month later, a run had taken them back. She'd nearly swallowed her considerable pride and asked Enzo to do the honors and leave her temporarily dead in her bunk, but there's no way Kat wouldn't have found out, no way she wouldn't have needled Caroline at every opportunity (for decades and centuries to come) for taking the coward's way out.

She'd been on deck, with the rest of the crew, head held high as they'd worked to steer the boat through the rocky waters. Caroline had focused on her breathing, attempted to clear her mind, to resist the heady lure of that voice.

She'd made a better effort, that third time, the sensations not so foreign. Caroline had frozen, at the first phantom caress, had balled her fists and let her nails cut into her palms to attempt to distract herself. But her resistance had crumbled, embarrassingly fast for a girl as iron willed as Caroline knew herself to be. She'd taken one step port-side, and Enzo had been there. He made a mockingly disappointed noise, shaking his head. "I really was rooting for you, Gorgeous," he'd told her. Right before swift hands reached out and wrenched her neck.

Enzo was at least polite enough to put her in her bed like a civilized person.

By the fourteenth voyage Caroline's had enough.

She awakens with a growl, finds the ship docked and deserted. Caroline puts on her nicest dress, the one that leaves her breasts barely contained, and lets her hair spill down her back in riotous curls. She paints her lips red and her lashes dark. She stalks off of the ship, follows the sounds of laughter and revelry into a tavern. Turns heads, with her disheveled appearance and scandalous dress.

She gets a drink, and makes eyes at a pretty sailor. He's young, and fair, almost cherubic looking. He appears flabbergasted to have caught her attention, and his hands shake when Caroline grasps one, leaning down and asking him to dance with her.

She presses her curves against him for two songs, before she licks her lips and asks him to join her for a walk. He's clumsy, but eager, and Caroline directs his hands under her skirts when she presses him against a wall. Rubs her thigh against his straining cock and tears into his neck.

He can't quite seem to find a pleasing rhythm, his fingers merely plunge, no finesse to the movement. And his attentions to her clit are inconsistent and at times overly harsh, leaving her wincing. Caroline finding herself frustrated and highly annoyed, drinks deeper then she'd meant to. She doesn't hear anyone approach, lets out a snarl when she'd pulled away. "No killing in the middle of a run, remember? It's bad for business," Enzo reminds her, the scold mild and more amused then anything. He offers her a handkerchief, and bends to where her dance partner's slumped on the ground. Feels for a pulse, "A touch slow, but it's there. He should be fine."

Caroline rolls her eyes and bites into her wrist. Roughly tips the boy's head back and wrenches his mouth open with her thumb on his chin. She lets a scant mouthful pour down his throat, enough to heal him, before she turns to leave.

Enzo trails after her, "Not going for another go? That seemed a bit… unsatisfying."

She narrows her eyes and glares at him, but Enzo stares straight ahead, keeping pace with Caroline's swift angry stride, "It was, actually. And I suspect another attempt would yield similar results."

"Sounds like a dire turn of events," Enzo notes. "You get a bit cranky when you're pent up."

Oh, Caroline knows. It's been a struggle not to tear into the crew, verbally or otherwise, for the tiniest mistakes lately. Her patience rides a razors edge, and Caroline knows a snap is inevitable. Unless…

A thought hits her, so brilliant that she's kicking herself for not considering it before. She finds herself giggling, pleased and giddy.

Enzo looks interested, and a bit wary, "There's something ominous about that sound," he muses.

Caroline smiles brightly at him, loops her arm through his, "Me? Ominous? That's unkind, Enzo. I've merely decided a new hobby is in order."

"Oh? Do tell."

Caroline's smile turns satisfied, "What do you know about fishing?"

Now, they hadn't been able to go directly as much as Caroline had wanted to. Capturing a creature of myth and legend required a little finesse. A bit of research, some help from Katherine's contacts. A visit to a witch, favors exchanged, a net fortified with magic. It took weeks before they were ready to set out, accompanied only be a skeleton crew of vampires. No one who could be easily tempted by the Siren's allure. Caroline herself had been fitted with a necklace, an ugly thing, but it was said to offer protection, was supposed to stop her from throwing herself at their captive, the second he was onboard.

Nearing the usual spot, Caroline's nervous, pacing the deck restlessly. She holds her breath when she first feels it, anxiously waits for the hazy feeling that usually envelops her senses to overcome her. But it doesn't. The usual arousal's there, her nipples tight and straining against her bodice. But she can think through it, her reason intact.

So perhaps the necklace could stay, despite its affront to her sense of fashion.

They typically aim for speed, blow through this section of their route as quickly as possible. But not this time. This time they're hunting, and they slow accordingly. Caroline makes her way to the rail, and Kat flashes over, "Please tell me that we didn't spend good money on a useless trinket and you still want to hurl yourself overboard?"

"We didn't spend good money on a useless trinket," Caroline repeats dutifully. "I'm fine. But I think…"she furrows her brow, contemplates the nagging thoughts in her brain, urging her in a certain direction. "I think I know where to go."

If Kat thinks she's crazy, she doesn't show it, stepping back and barking at the crew to navigate according to Caroline's commands. Caroline closes her eyes and listens to her instincts, the necklace resting hot and heavy against her throat.

They only have to throw the net once.

Their prey struggles mightily, and the boat lists, until all hands pitch in to raise it up. He struggles, his powerful tail caught in the ropes, hands clutching at it, trying to tear, the lean muscles of his arms and shoulders straining. Caroline winces, feeling a pang of sympathy, as he's dumped harshly onto the deck. His eyes snap to hers immediately, a deep blue that burns with annoyance.

Caroline finds she can't look away, not even when Katherine sidles up beside her, "My, my," she murmurs appreciatively, eyes drinking the Siren in. "Isn't he something to look at? I kind get why you were so eager to dive right in."

Caroline doesn't answer, disconcerted by how close his face resembles that of the imaginary lover who's been starring in her dreams and fantasies since she'd first heard his music. How was that possible? Caroline wondered. She felt as if she knew the fullness of those lips on hers, the texture of his skin. The feel of his curls caught between her fingers/

Kat doesn't seem to need Caroline's response, barks orders for the siren to be taken to her cabin. It's the largest, and they've rigged a tub, because Caroline had insisted they not kill him, unless absolutely necessary.

Surely a calm conversation could be had? It was unlikely that he'd targeted her specifically, probably just doing what was in his nature. A mutually beneficial agreement wherein he agreed to keep a lid on it when their ship sailed past his home (Lair? Lagoon? Caroline wasn't certain which term he'd prefer) and they released him back into the waters he haunted.

Caroline waits as long as she can make herself, before heading below decks. Kat and Enzo smirk at her knowingly, when she enters the room, but clear it obligingly. "I'll leave you two to your business," Kat murmurs as she leaves. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Caroline had no idea what that had been supposed to mean. The list of things Kat wouldn't do was awfully short, from what Caroline had gleaned over the years.

She stands tall, and crosses her arms, refuses to let her nerves show as she approaches the metal tub he's lounging in. He looks completely at ease, powerful. Like a king receiving subjects and not a prisoner. His brows rise, interest flickering, "You're a vampire as well?"

"Yes," Caroline sniffs. "And I don't appreciate you trying to kill me."

"Whoever said I was trying to kill you?"

Caroline scoffs, "Sirens don't exactly have a stellar reputation for catching and releasing."

He sinks lower in the tub, conceding her point, "Perhaps. What's your name, love?"

"Does it matter?"

"My name is Klaus," he tells her, ignoring her sarcasm. "And I was not, in fact, trying to kill you. Something about your mind called to mine, a rare occurrence. I merely sought to find out more."

Caroline edges closer, eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Something about my mind? Am I supposed to swoon now?"

He grins, "I hardly think you're the swooning sort. Much too sensible."

And Caroline has no idea why, because it's completely crazy, but she finds herself wanting to smile back. She refuses to, pressing her lips together in a tight line, glancing away.

When she's confident she can be stern, she walks a few paces closer. "Look, we need to work this out. Because I'll kill you if I need to. Running product through your territory saves us time, and time is money. But it's kind of a hassle that I keep trying to take a dip in the ocean every time you open your stupid tempting mouth. One of these days Kat might not be fast enough, and then who knows how long it'll take to fish me out? We might miss a deadline, and I do not miss deadlines. Because I'm sensible."

He doesn't seem bothered by the threats of murder, if anything the light in his eyes grows hot and hungry in response. "Why don't you come here," he suggests silkily, tongue peeking out to wet his full lower lip. "And I'll show you why it would be a pity to kill me."

She takes a step, a big one, her body wanting what he's offering. But she shakes herself, digging her toes into the floor. "Ugh, stop it! I am not having sex with you."

"Not yet," he corrects. "And I wasn't asking you to. That's not what you think of, when your mind reaches out for me. You want to be pleasured, sweetheart. Held open and teased until you beg for that final push to send you reeling. You want my mouth, licking at your arousal, my tongue toying with your clit."

Caroline flushes hot and goes still, "You can see my thoughts?" she hisses, mortification warring with unease.

"Not all the time," he assures her. "Just when you're thinking of me."

"I don't think of you! I've never met you."

"Are you sure about that, Caroline?"

Her eyes widen, "How do you know my name?"

"You used to sit out on the rocks, at your family's summer home. Sometimes you read aloud, sometimes you'd just talk. I listened."

"You mean you lurked," Caroline accuses, her mind racing. She'd loved that house, when she was very young. Liked to bask in the sun on the rocks he spoke of, listen to the water lapping. It had been soothing, and now that she's let herself remember she realizes that she'd dearly missed it.

She'd taken to sea life well, and maybe those summer trips were the reason why.

"Perhaps," he allows. "In the beginning you were easy prey, but I could never bring myself to lure you into the water. And then your family gathered, talked of your death, and celebrated your short life. And I mourned you, before moving on to warmer waters. Imagine my surprise to find you again, just as I'd last felt you, on a ship half a world away. And to set eyes on you, find you unchanged by time. I don't like to think of myself as subject to the whims of fate, but perhaps I might make an exception. For you."

"Those are very pretty words," Caroline says. Tries for coolness, even as she tells herself that she's not to be swayed by them.

"I have plenty more. Does not make them untrue."

"Prove it," Caroline challenges. "Show me that I can trust you. We're still anchored. I can have you back in the water in minutes. Don't sing to me when I pass next time."

"And if I don't? Will you come visit me, of your own volition?"

Caroline has a sinking feeling that she'll be unable to resist. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll have to learn to trust me too."

He studies her, for several long moments, assessing. Caroline holds her chin high, meets his gaze steadily. "Come here," he entreats softly. "Let's begin this trust you speak of, hmm?"

It's a dare and Caroline's never been very good at shying from those, even when she should. She takes measured steps forward, doesn't flinch when his arm comes out of the water, reaches for her hand. His thumb strokes over the pulse of her wrist. A small smile curls his lips, but he doesn't comment on its wild fluttering. Klaus tugs, until his lips brush over the delicate skin, tongue drawing a teasing circle. "It's a bargain," he agrees. "But if I might make a suggestion?"

Caroline nods, not trusting herself to speak. Or climb into that tub with him if he offers again.

"That necklace. See the witch who made it. She knows my magic. Have her make one for me."

Caroline blinks, confused. "Why?"

His smile is slow, something greedy to it as his eyes drift down her form. "Simple, sweetheart. I love the ocean, but legs have their own advantages. And I suspect you'll feel more comfortable, with the things I wish to do to you, if I have a pair."