Chapter fourteen-Her mates, the monsters
The next few hours that Clarke experienced in the house after getting angry at the vampires, were….tiring.
She knew she couldn't be more angry than she was, tempting as it might be.
Trying to clear her head from the alcohol she had just consumed, Clarke had gotten a glass of water and gulped it down. And after what felt like an hour, of reading some more from Maurice Dumont's diary, she eventually made a decision.
She couldn't risk anyone else getting involved in this situation.
It was too dangerous for them. If they found out about the vampires, Clarke couldn't help but assume that they'd be history.
While none of the vampires had outright said that they'd kill anyone outside of this that tried to interfere or found out about them? They hadn't been discreet about not killing people, as it turned out.
So, she had to make sure none of her friends or anyone else got involved.
She pulled out her cell phone and quickly called Bruce. Then she called Sam. Then Steve and Sharon.
In all three cases, she explained that now that her mother was locked away in prison for multiple counts of murder, and most likely would be convicted soon, there was no need for any more digging. And they could just try to maintain some sort of normalcy, even with Jake dead. And she promised them she'd keep them updated in case she ever got hurt or ever needed anything. But she emphasized that she needed some time alone.
Bruce, Sam, Steve and Sharon, while hesitant to leave Clarke alone, understood and just reminded her to call them, if she ever wanted or needed to. She assured them she would, and said goodbye to each of them, hanging up the phone all three times first before they could say anything else.
She then called Jeri's office.
Her trying to make sure no one got involved, didn't only include the people she cared about the most.
It also counted for people she had foolishly gotten involved in this in the first place.
As soon as Pam directed Clarke's call from the lobby, to Jeri's personal phone, Clarke breathed out in relief and heard Jeri over phone.
"Ms. Griffin?" Jeri asked, "After you rushed out of the office, I was somewhat concerned. Are you alright?"
Clarke almost snorted, "I don't think so," but stopped herself. To maintain a good cover, she'd need to pretend she was happy about what had happened to Abby.
She forced her voice to sound cheery as she said, "If being 'alright,' is being happy about my narcissist of a mother being potentially put away for life, for multiple murders? Then yes, I'm very alright."
Jeri said, "I am pleased to hear that. As I said, I don't think you will need to do anything right now. For the most part, the case that will be building against Abby Griffin, will likely take several months. And if the police ever question you? It likely won't be till a week from now. And I imagine that if the police confront any of your friends first, they will let you know if the police wish to question you, to see if you have an insight on Abby."
Clarke almost laughed grimly.
Oh, she had insight on Abby Griffin, alright.
"Thank you, Hogarth," Clarke said, "For letting me know. I will be in touch with you at that point. Until then, I think for now, I can just relax. I'll send the last of the money to you for now in a few days."
Jeri answered, not without some effort to be nice, Clarke supposed, "Don't be in a hurry to send it. Send the money when you can. For now, just try to relax. And there likely will be a trial coming up for Abby in a few months. Maybe even a year. For now, you can just enjoy yourself. As much as you can. Until we need to communicate again eventually, try to just relax."
Clarke finally let out a small snort, "I'll try."
When Clarke hung up, she then dialed up the number at Jessica's place, calling Jessica's secretary, Kith.
Kith answered and sounded quite happy to hear from Clarke. But Clarke had what could easily be described as 'so-so' news.
On one hand, Jessica was about to be paid handsomely, and because of that, so was Kith.
On the other hand, Clarke didn't doubt for a second that Jessica would find Abby's murderous actions would instantly be questionable. Would Jessica really believe that Abby, of her free will, had poisoned the people that she had destroyed her former life for?
Unlikely.
Clarke hoped Jessica wouldn't dig too much into it. Wishing to keep Jessica from getting more involved, she would pay a hefty sum for Jessica and Kith to stay out of this.
"Hi, Kith," Clarke said, "Listen, I need to know something. Have you and Jessica heard what happened on the news? About my mother, Abby Griffin?"
There was a pause, before Kith said, "I'm not sure we did. Can you explain?"
Clarke sucked in a breath as she said, "My mother apparently, poisoned a bunch of people. The people she was living with, including her two boyfriends. She's been arrested and I guess I won't need Jessica Jones's services anymore."
There was silence, and Clarke heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Clarke could only imagine how much of a shock this news was for Kith.
"Oh, my…." Kith whispered and Clarke worried for a second that the other woman might have a heart attack from this.
Kith then said, sounding like she was attempting to compose herself, "Was…any motive found?"
Clarke tried not to laugh. Oh, there was a motive, alright. But it wasn't what anyone thought it was.
Because the motive wasn't Abby's. It was the vampires'.
The motive, that being, the reason? Belonged to the thirteen specters that had haunted Clarke's family for multiple generations.
The reason was revenge. The motive was perhaps a duty, a way of the vampires trying to prove to Clarke that they'd do anything for her.
The reason might even be love.
But Clarke didn't want to entertain that particular idea for too long.
Maybe the reason was love, maybe it wasn't. All Clarke knew was that she had to keep Kith and Jessica out of this.
"I wouldn't want to think too hard about a motive," Clarke said, deciding to distance herself from what she knew as best as she could, "Who knows how people like Abby Griffin think? They're narcissistic and maybe even sociopathic. Maybe she did it for money, maybe for fun, maybe because they said something to piss her off. I don't know. I haven't lived with Abby for a long time. Who knows what her reasoning was? Either way? She'll be put in prison. Most likely soon. So, as much as I appreciate what you and Jessica have done, I won't be requiring Jessica's services anymore. But I will send the last amount of money to the two of you." Clarke gave a large number to Kith and she smiled at Kith's shock at the high number.
Kith even tried to say that she and Jessica couldn't take that much.
But Clarke quickly assured her that it would be fine. And it would be. Clarke had done the math several times. She wasn't all that good at math, but she figured it out. The money she had spent, trying to get evidence against Abby, plus the money she had used to buy her bike, it had come out to a lot, yes.
But next to the loads and loads of money that she had inherited from her father, after his death, money that her family had earned, after the vampires had killed Jean Lavigne's enemies and Jean Lavigne had gained control enough of this area to rake in a lot of money, money that had accumulated over time from the various generations and their illegal activities, Clarke knew that she most likely would never need to worry about not being rich again.
She could afford to pay Jessica and Kith that much.
Clarke promised Kith that it was alright. That she was happy to do it.
She promised she'd send the money in due time, and that Kith could tell Jessica that she wasn't needed on the case any longer, but the money should arrive soon. In only a day or two.
Clarke could practically feel the shock from Kith as the woman breathlessly thanked Clarke several times.
Clarke assured the woman it was no problem.
While Clarke didn't doubt that Jessica Jones was a competent private eye and so could make plenty of money on her own, Clarke figured that if Jessica was paid a very high amount, Jessica might just decide to not dig into anything further.
At least, Clarke hoped that to be true.
Then again, Jessica might just find how much money she got, suspicious.
But Clarke figured this was all she could do, for now.
She thanked Kith and hung up soon after, feeling tired again.
Hopefully she had just severed things with Kith and Jessica.
Hopefully they'd stay out of this now.
Clarke shoved her phone back into her pocket and huffed out, grabbing Maurice Dumont's book and reading more.
There was no huge notable incident with the vampires, according to Maurice, save for the murders of Maurice and Pierre's horrid uncles, Michael and Steven Browne. But Maurice made passing mentions about the vampire women every now and then.
About how more money would be brought to the brothers, the brothers' wives and children. About what few enemies the Dumont family had, occasionally mysteriously disappeared.
Clarke read and read and wasn't sure what she could do with this. All of this? It happened ages ago. Well, maybe not that long ago. The 1600s weren't really that long ago. Just a few centuries ago. But nevertheless, it was the past. What could she do about it now?
Then again, should she do anything about it?
Yes, she was angry at the vampires. And did she trust them? No. Not in the slightest.
But it didn't change, that these vampires had kept her family safe, save for the ones that had threatened other family members of hers and save for those that got between them and Clarke.
As long as no one got between them and Clarke and as long as there was no threat to Clarke or the vampires' goals, they probably wouldn't attack anyone. Well, not outside of food, anyway.
Again, Clarke reminded herself of what these women were.
They needed blood.
She shivered at the thought.
While Clarke was far from that big on reading vampire books or watching vampire flics, anyone who grew up with movies, would be able to tell you what a vampire was.
Or the rough idea of what a vampire was.
And that they needed blood to survive.
Which brought Clarke to a troubling question. Who exactly had the vampires been feeding on till now?
Clarke felt the question come out, and was sure that the vampires could hear her. She said, "I have to ask, who were the people you were feeding on before now? And how often do you need to feed?"
She heard no one approach the room, but seconds later, she heard the knob of her door turn and heard the door open up.
Clarke lifted her head and saw Wanda and Maria come into the room.
Wanda stepped forward and Maria put her hand on Wanda's shoulder, stopping the other vampire from moving closer to Clarke.
It occurred to Clarke, that these vampires were trying to keep a leash on each other, so that they didn't scare her.
Wanda looked hesitantly at Maria, then sighed, stepping back, looking at Clarke with what Clarke realized with unease, was a look of need.
Clarke tried to back up on the bed, even if she knew that if these vampires wanted to do something to her, whether it was something violent or sexual, or both, there was likely nothing she could do.
At Clarke's nervous expression, Maria said, smiling sadly, "We have been feeding for a while, on animals. Animal blood isn't that different from human blood. At least, not for vampires. When people write about vampires or make movies about vampires, they try to make vampires feeding on animals out to be a difficult for vampires. It's not. Vampires can survive on animal blood, just as easily as they can on human blood. So, we've been feeding on animals. So as not to endanger anyone you care about, and to make sure you aren't uncomfortable with us. And we need to feed about every two weeks. We can sustain ourselves on regular human food and water, for the time being till then."
Clarke nodded. "Thank you for telling me," she said, "Will you need to feed soon?"
"No, Clarke," Maria said, shaking her head, "We made sure to feed on several animals, before confronting you last night. It will only be in a few weeks when we need to again."
Clarke nodded, and couldn't help but feel relieved.
Wanda finally said what she most likely was trying to stop herself from saying as she looked at Clarke still, "You don't need to be scared of us, Clarke. You're safe with us."
Clarke eyed the two women. She wanted to believe that she was safe with these vampires. But she couldn't.
She felt a new question leave her, "Who did you feed on, before feeding on those animals last night, before meeting me?"
Both Wanda and Maria both appeared forlorn at the question, realizing that Clarke wasn't going to trust them so easily.
Maria said, "We have tried to keep to feeding on bad people. Rapists and murderers and the like. But they aren't always available. And if they're not, we try to feed on a person simply by knocking them out and taking some blood, then letting them go, and moving on to several more people throughout the night or day, whenever we're hunting."
Clarke was surprised to hear that.
The vampires tried to avoid killing people who didn't deserve it?
She wanted to believe that. She did. But she couldn't help how uneasy she felt about them.
She forced a nod as she said, "Thank you for telling me. And…," she pulled out her phone and checked the time on it and said in a dry tone, "And it's dinner time for me. Or getting there. I'll go make some food," she glanced nervously at the two vampires, "If that's okay."
"Of course, that's okay, sweetie," Wanda said, "It's your home, after all."
Clarke nodded, putting away her phone and getting up off of the cot bed.
She slowly moved around the two vampires, who followed her out of the door of her room and they went down the stairs to the living room.
She felt the eyes of the other vampires on her as she made her way over to the stove.
She didn't want to think about what they believed their relationship with her meant.
But she was positive she knew, anyway.
Amongst the many things they likely were hoping to get from her? Sex.
Clarke didn't want to think about it.
These women were beautiful. Without question. But they were deadly. Then again, that seemed to be appropriate for how beautiful they were. Perhaps it was true what they said, that the more beautiful a creature or being was, the more dangerous they were. For some reason, Clarke's mind went to the quote said by Rudyard Kipling.
The quote was, "the female of the species is far more deadly than the male."
Clarke almost burst out laughing that she had thought something so ridiculously offensive. For all her father's efforts to make sure she wouldn't fall in with some organized religious group that couldn't respect women as much as men, she unfortunately, was unable to help but allow her mind to drift to some offensive thoughts, which she'd been exposed to over time by the media and offensive quotes.
She knew she had to not travel down the road of the idea that the more beautiful someone was, the more dangerous they were. Because she was approaching Rudyard Kipling levels of misogyny. Considering Kipling was a racist and anti-Semite, as well as a misogynist, no one should ever take his words as wisdom.
Clarke still couldn't help her chuckle at the irony of her thoughts. She could feel the vampires' curious gazes on her, probably wondering what she was thinking about that caused her to chuckle so much, but thankfully, they didn't ask.
Clarke grabbed a bowl and opened up the cupboard next to her, searching for a can of something to eat.
She wasn't tall enough to reach the higher shelf and when Mari asked her what she was looking for, Clarke didn't think much of it as she absentmindedly answered, "A can of beef stew."
Suddenly, a can went flying off of the shelf and Clarke gasped, stepping back, thinking the can might hit her, but it went flying over her head and she heard the metal of the can collide with someone's hand.
Clarke turned around, startled to see Helena smirking at her, holding the can up in offering to Clarke.
"Um," Clarke said, hesitantly taking the can from Helena, "Thank you."
From Clarke's first encounter with them last night, she knew these vampires could move objects without touching them. She had seen such a thing happen last night, when Carol had brought a mirror into her hands without so much as touching it.
Still, it was somewhat disconcerting to watch.
Helena said, "You're welcome, Clarke," and Clarke didn't want to comment on the smirk that Helena had on her face.
She turned back to the stove, opened up one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out the can opener she had put there. She opened up the can and dumped its contents into a pot, placing it on the closest burner of the stove, and turned the dial, starting up the flame.
Clarke stared at the stew in the pot, because it was better than looking at any of the vampires and looking at them watching her.
These vampires had watched her since she'd been born into this world.
They had stalked her for years.
And now, they wanted her to be with them.
There were a lot of things about this that made her very uneasy.
Adding in the fact that she likely had no say in any of this. She was a human and they were vampires who were much stronger, and could move things across the room with their minds.
Translation: she didn't have a chance of getting away from these women.
She remembered again that Wanda, and maybe more of them, could read minds. She glanced at Wanda, nervous.
The orange-haired vampire, thankfully, hadn't looked like she was trying to intrude on anything, just watching her. Which meant that Wanda probably hadn't tried to read Clarke's mind just now.
Between the embarrassing Rudyard Kipling quote and her contemplating if she could get out of this or not, Clarke honestly was just glad that Wanda hadn't tried to read her thoughts. Or hoped that Wanda hadn't tried to.
When the stew was ready, Clarke switched off the flame of the stove, picked up the pot and poured it into a bowl, grabbing a spoon from a drawer.
She heard a chair being moved back and she turned around to see Sylvie moving the chair back, smiling at Clarke and stepping away from the chair, after she had pulled it out from under the table.
Clarke glanced at Sylvie, uncertain, as she carried the bowl of stew and the spoon over. "Thank you," she said quietly to the blonde vampire.
Sylvie nodded to her, smiling, and Clarke cautiously sat down at the table, placing the full bowl down onto it.
"Do you want anything to drink, love?" Natasha asked, like all the others, watching Clarke as she asked this.
Clarke nodded. "Yes," she said, getting up, "I'll get it."
She got to the cupboard, noticing how some of the vampires looked slightly disappointed at not being allowed to get anything for her this time.
She tried to ignore that, and got out a glass, filling it with water and walked back to the table, dropping down onto the chair again, putting the glass down next to her bowl of food.
She remembered what Wanda had said she and the other vampires had wanted Clarke to allow them to do.
They wanted Clarke to allow them to take care of her.
And like everything else? Clarke had to wonder what exactly that meant.
Did it mean that they were hoping she'd let them…what…do everything for her? Not just kill her enemies for her, or get food and booze for her? And not just fuck her?
What exactly did letting them "take care of her," mean?
She honestly wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
After several seconds of her both contemplating this and waiting for the stew to cool off, Clarke finally picked up her spoon and began scooping food out of the bowl.
As she ate, she thankfully felt the vampires' gazes that used to be on her, be averted as the vampires moved around the room, most likely trying to give Clarke her space.
For that, she supposed, she was grateful.
She wondered how this news about Abby supposedly murdering her boyfriends and everyone else in that house, would be taken by the media.
Well, she had a few ideas.
Abby having moved in with Kane and Bellamy so soon after her husband died, not to mention disowning her own daughter, that already was going to raise a few eyebrows.
But the moment Octavia was dissected and her corpse investigated?
That would cause riots. That would cause a field day.
All anyone had to do, was inspect Octavia's body, and do some DNA tests on the fetus that was inside her at the time of her death, and that was when the media that so loved salacious gossip, would explode.
As soon as there was a DNA test done on the fetus in Octavia's belly, and it would be learned just who the person was that had gotten Octavia pregnant, everything would explode.
The house where Abby and the others had lived in, would be called a house of degenerates. The media would slap all types of hateful labels on Abby and her boyfriends.
This would be cause for gossip, most likely for years to come.
Clarke knew how people who were related to killers tended to be treated. Clarke hadn't had any idea that her mother was capable of something like murder. So when she had begun to suspect that her mother might have murdered her father, she had tried mentally to dismiss such thoughts, over and over again.
But having it confirmed when the coroner, John Defeo, had done the autopsy? It had hit her hard.
Because it just had confirmed those suspicions that Clarke had tried to dismiss.
Abby was a killer, alright. Maybe not the type of killer that the media was going to make her out to be, because Clarke knew Abby hadn't actually murdered anyone in that house-she'd been the murder weapon, but not the actual murderer. That had been Wanda and the other vampires.
But nevertheless, Abby was a killer. And Clarke knew it.
She hadn't had any idea, before her father was murdered.
But she didn't doubt that the media would try to sling some mud at her too.
Because according to them, how could Clarke not have known this whole time?
That was something that Clarke honestly couldn't stomach about a lot of people. They were friendly and nice, but the moment something horrible happened and you needed them, out came the accusations and the demands to know how family members didn't know, when the people that caused the tragedies in the first place, had kept their "killing activities" a secret from their family members in the first place.
But oh, Clarke knew there was going to be some serious gossip from what the vampires had made Abby do.
Gossip, that would turn even more vicious and louder, as soon as an autopsy was done on Octavia Blake, and the DNA of the fetus inside Octavia, identified.
She ate a bit faster, trying not to think too much about that either.
She worried that Bruce, Sam, Sharon and Steve might be questioned as well, and people might talk and wonder how much Jake's good friends knew.
And hadn't Bruce at one time dated Abby? She hoped he, Sam, Sharon and Steve didn't get their names dirtied by the media.
It was her worry over her friends, that got Clarke to stop eating and put down her spoon and look up at the vampires. She began, "There's something that I need to ask."
The vampires, as soon as Clarke said that, stood at attention, looking at her again, curiously.
Clarke hesitated, then said, "As soon as Octavia is dissected and the DNA of her fetus analyzed, there will be talk about what Abby and the others did. And as soon as that happens, they'll ask how much I knew, because I'm Abby's biological daughter and lived with her for years before my father's murder. And they'll ask how much my friends, Sam, Steve, Sharon and Bruce knew. I don't want anything to happen to my friends, or for them to be stigmatized."
Clarke could see the realization cross many of the vampires' faces.
Clarke then said, feeling somewhat more confident, "So, you got me, and my friends into this, by having Abby kill Markus, Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Jasper, Monty, Miller and the others, now you need to help us get out of this."
Clarke's demanding words brought amused and surprised expressions from the vampires, as some of them lifted their eyebrows and some of them smirked.
"Alright, love," Natasha said, "What would you like us to do?"
"I…," Clarke was startled that they actually were listening. It hadn't occurred to her until that very moment, when Natasha had asked her what she wanted, that Clarke understood that she might just have an army of actual weapons willing to obey her if she wanted them to kill someone for her.
Knowing that didn't make her happy. Knowing that just disturbed her.
Still, she inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm herself and answered, "Whatever it is you can do to protect my friends from being stigmatized or harassed? I want you to do it."
Even as Clarke spoke, she couldn't believe that she was actually giving orders to a bunch of ancient vampires.
Everything about this felt unreal.
Still, Clarke kept going, "So, can you tell me, if there's a way of doing this, without people noticing that vampires are involved?"
"There is," Melina said, "You just won't like it. There are more extreme ways of doing it. But one of the less extreme ways, is to mentally control the police so they don't ask you and your friends questions. And to do the same to any investigator or interviewer that tries to use you or your friends as scapegoats."
Clarke's eyes widened. Oh. She'd just have to say to the vampires that she wanted anyone who came snooping around her or her friends' places, that she wanted the people snooping, to be brainwashed into leaving her and her friends alone.
Well, shit.
Clarke really didn't like that idea.
To mess with peoples' minds like that? It was wrong. Hell, everything about this was wrong.
But Clarke was hoping to reduce ways in which more collateral damage would occur.
"I…," Clarke said, shaking her head, "I don't want people to have their brains controlled."
"Maybe not, sweetie," Melina said, "But think about your safety. And if you're not going to think about your safety, then think about the safety of your friends."
Clarke glared at Melina, not liking that the woman was saying things like that.
But she might just have been right.
"How long would the effects on their brains last?" Clarke couldn't help but ask, hating herself for asking, for even entertaining the thought of allowing these vampires to do that.
"It depends on how we do it," Wanda said, "If I use my abilities to do it, it will last a while. But it won't be permanent. If we use magic to do it, it could be permanent."
Clarke nodded. And she could feel herself getting closer and closer to agreeing to this method.
"Would there be any permanent damage done to their minds if you used either form of memory altering?" Clarke asked.
This was it. This was the deciding factor on if she took the vampires up on their offer.
Because if she was going to let them erase peoples' minds, she didn't want to deal with the guilt of possibly allowing peoples' minds to be permanently damaged, as well.
"No," Wanda said, "Neither way would cause permanent damage to their brains. And they would forget."
Clarke nodded. But a new thought entered her mind. "How would you be able to do this for a long period of time? You can't make everyone forget permanently, can you?"
"No," Sylvie agreed, "We wouldn't be able to do that. And if we somehow did, people would begin to get suspicious. Eventually, word would leak out, outside of Manchester. Questions will be raised about why no one is questioning you. Or your friends."
Clarke sighed, sagging in her seat. That was a problem.
It was an answer. But only a temporary answer.
And it might just bring more attention to her and her friends than if she said she didn't want the vampires to do anything.
"Alright," she said, grabbing her spoon again, "Leave everything alone. Don't bother with it. For now."
She heard a few sighs from the vampires.
And while they said nothing for a few seconds, Mari suddenly spoke up. She said, "There would be a way for you and your friends to never know such humiliation from those who like to gossip about these things."
Clarke looked up at Mari, looking at the vampire, waiting.
Mari elaborated, smirking, "You could always just let us turn you."
Clarke stiffened, her hand tightening around the handle of the spoon, as if it was a ward that would help her fend off a threat.
Reading Clarke's expression, Mari asked, smirking, her eyebrows raising, "Oh? No? Clarke, you know eventually, we'll turn you. And as long as you're not registered as 'dead,' or 'missing,' people will want to question you about all of this. And your friends will be too."
Clarke tensed. She didn't like this. Any of this.
"You fucking want me to be a vampire," she said, "But I don't want that. And the only other way to do this, isn't a permanent answer. Is there any answer that doesn't suck?"
She doubted that her words could be taken as anything, but rude. But by now, she just didn't care.
Sometimes, becoming frustrated and snapping was the only answer that could be given, when every other option sucked completely.
Rather than appearing offended, several of the vampires chuckled at Clarke's anger.
"I'm afraid there isn't," Helena said, smirking, "We know this is all difficult for you. But one way or another, you'll have to make a difficult choice. The only difference? We're going to turn you. Whether you like it or not. That always will be the case."
Clarke glared at Helena, feeling a painful kick in her chest.
She saw the smug certainty on Helena's face, as well as on the faces of some of the others.
They knew that they were the ones with the power here. And even if they were willing to do anything for her, apparently, them letting her go and not turning her, wasn't one of the options that came with doing whatever she wanted.
"And if we turn you and you want your friends to be safe from questioning," Melina said, "You know ultimately what that would mean, don't you?"
At the confused look Melina received from Clarke, Wanda decided to shed some light on Clarke's questioning expression.
Wanda said, "The safest thing for your friends, if you don't want anyone to harm them or use them as some sort of public shame, would be to let us turn them too."
When realization of what the vampires meant finally hit Clarke, it hit hard and it caused great anger to stir in her.
Without even thinking about it, Clarke slammed the spoon down onto the table and stood up roughly, glaring at the vampires.
Her eyes then went to the front door of the house. Her intention must have been apparent, because as soon as she looked at the house's front door, she felt a strange fuzzy feeling around her body, and felt something grip her almost, pushing her by force back into her seat.
Clarke cried out, startled. She looked at both sides of the chair, finding nothing keeping her there.
She tried to get up again, but couldn't. Some invisible power, was keeping her stationary on the seat.
And she had a good idea of where that power was coming from.
Clarke looked back at the vampires, gritting her teeth as she glared daggers at them.
"Let me go," she snapped.
Wanda, Natasha, Sylvie, Mari, Yelena, Felicia, Dinah and Helena all gave Clarke a look that said, "you know that's not going to happen."
Maria, Shayera, Melina, Brunnhilde and Carol just looked on, seeming sad.
"Just let me go," Clarke repeated, this time more quietly, "And I'm warning you, if you do so much as anything to hurt Steve, Sharon, Sam or Bruce, I'll-"
"You'll do nothing," Wanda said, sounding like she was just stating a fact, not trying to sound cruel, even if everything they were doing was cruel, "You can't do anything right now. You'd have to become a vampire to cause any problems for us."
Clarke glared still at the vampires, harsh, hot anger roiling around in her chest.
Even if Wanda hadn't said the last part, Clarke heard it anyway.
Even after Clarke was turned into a vampire, she probably wouldn't be able to do anything, anyway. Not just because she would be much younger than the other vampires, but because when she was a vampire, like these women had told her, when she was turned, she'd supposedly feel the same way about them that they felt about her.
Clarke struggled against the invisible force that had gripped her and held her to the chair, but nothing was happening. She was not able to move.
Glaring more at the vampires, not wanting to get upset and cry, not wanting to give these women the satisfaction, she spat, "How many others in my family have you killed, huh?"
Clarke felt a certain vindication when she saw the flashes of hurt cross the vampires' faces.
Clarke had expected the answer, but still it chilled her when she heard Wanda answer, almost sadly, "More than you think."
Clarke tried not to shudder. She had sort of already known this. Bruce had told her that several family members of hers, were killed in what looked like accidents. She tried to remember the names of the ones that Bruce said died mysteriously. But couldn't.
"Who?" Clarke demanded, waiting for an answer.
The vampires stared at her, almost as if they were trying to decide if they should answer her.
At last, Natasha said, "Your great-great-grandfather, Hugo Lavigne, didn't want to allow his eventual great-great-grandchild to be turned into a vampire. And I suppose, if nothing else, his disappearing older sister, Pepper, was a warning to him. So, he hired multiple killers, in hopes of them getting rid of us. Unfortunately, as you saw from what was in the attic? Hugo believed the false stories about what a vampire's weaknesses were."
Clarke grimaced. Right. That would explain the picture of the men with the wooden stakes, and the trunk filled with the glass bottles of holy water, the crosses and the ropes of garlic.
But that wouldn't have helped them. Not if these vampires were as unkillable as they claimed themselves to be.
Maria nodded at Clarke's expression. "I see you've already concluded how this ended for the killers that Hugo hired," she said, "We killed them, if you had any doubts. We made it look like an accidental fire. Nothing was traced back to us. But we had learned something about Hugo. He was not going to stand for you eventually becoming ours."
Clarke clenched her teeth. Yes, because clearly, anything getting between them and her, was not an option.
Clarke had a bad feeling about what she was going to find out happened to Hugo Lavigne.
"Hugo," Mari said, "Died of an illness. An illness, admittedly, we caused magically. His wife died of a heart attack. And yes, that was our fault. It was why we were hesitated to let Leon Griffin see us in our true forms. We know that our forms can frighten people at those ages. But before we did that, we punished Hugo for his attempt on trying to kill us."
Clarke felt a horrible, cold understanding land on her.
"His son," she said, remembering that there was a boy in her family that had been killed in a carriage "accident," "The carriage incident."
Natasha smirked. "That's right, dorogaya," she said, "Hugo and Melissa's son. Andre Lavigne. He wasn't the one we cared about. His sister, Isabelle, was. She was the one who would give birth to your grandfather, Gabriel. So, we decided to use Andre as a means of punishing Hugo. We scared the horse that was pulling the carriage, just when Andre was crossing the road. And it hit him. And we made sure Hugo knew it was us. We visited him, soon after her received the news. By the time we killed Hugo and Melissa and the inheritance all landed in Isabelle's lap, she was in her early forties and already married with two sons."
Clarke gasped, feeling like a big, fat bucket full of ice water had just been dunked right on her.
These women had murdered multiple family members of hers. And some of them were for good reasons. But some were not.
Andre Lavigne, Clarke might have had his age wrong around the time of his death, but hadn't he been young at the time?
"Wasn't Andre like fourteen or something?" Clarke asked, staring at the vampires now in a very different light.
"Fifteen," Wanda corrected.
Clarke felt a shiver run down her back.
These were different creatures from what she had thought, originally.
Yes, when she had first met them, she had realized she was dealing with dangerous beasts.
But she had underestimated how much she knew about these vampires. When she had learned of what happened to Leon, and that it was an accident, and that they wanted to take care of her, she actually had felt grateful.
When they had used Abby to kill Markus, Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Jasper, Miller and the others, she had realized just how dangerous they were.
And she thought she had understood that that was the extent of their danger.
She had foolishly thought she understood them.
But now?
Now, Clarke had a far different understanding of them.
They weren't just dangerous in the sense that they'd kill for her. They were dangerous in the sense that they would kill to keep her. And kill anyone, including children, if it meant other people would be deterred.
No, these were not just "misunderstood vampires," these were people who had just been turned into vampires and over time, had become monsters to get what they wanted.
Clarke felt like her insides were turning to ice, as she stared at the vampires, her next words leaving her mouth in a whisper, "You fucking monsters."
She had the satisfaction of seeing all seven Melina, Brunnhilde, Felicia, Dinah, Shayera, Sylvie and Wanda flinching.
But all six Maria, Helena, Carol, Yelena, Mari and Natasha, had the opposite reaction.
All six of them had wide, predatory smiles on their faces, revealing their fangs, and the sight chilled Clarke to her very bones.