Warnings for repeated talk of rape. And murder.
Chapter 18-The Darkhold
Wanda's mouth was used as a weapon against Clarke. Her mouth licked, sucked, her tongue flicking against Clarke's clit, then against Clarke's vaginal opening, and this continued on for what Clarke realized as she squirmed under the vampire, had to be at least two hours.
Clarke had come at least eight times now.
She was begging now for it to stop, but she couldn't move. Her hands were pinned down, so were her legs.
Her hips kept bucking, her groin pushing harder against Wanda's mouth.
She knew she was begging for Wanda to stop, the pleasure that was washing over her, now overwhelming and almost painful in how good it felt.
It was like her mind and body couldn't decide what it was it was feeling. The pleasure felt so good, but it was so intense now that it felt like it almost hurt, even if on some level, she knew it wasn't hurting.
Her sobs left her, begging for Wanda to let up.
But Wanda would not.
The orange-haired vampire devoured Clarke, tongue probing Clarke's cunt, tongue all the way inside the blonde, then pulling her tongue out and licking it all along Clarke's clit.
Wanda would fix her mouth around Clarke's clit and suck.
She would lick all around the sides of Clarke's clit and lick at Clarke's labia, bringing Clarke to another earthshattering climax and orgasm.
Wanda still used her mouth as Clarke writhed under her, hips still bucking.
Even after Clarke was only able to cry out, "please" and "I can't," Wanda still didn't let up, her tongue pushing inside Clarke and gently stroking along Clarke's inner walls, pulling her tongue out only to stroke Clarke's clit some more.
Finally, after almost endless climaxes and orgasms, Clarke was limp against the bed, shaking every now and then, helpless.
Only then, did Wanda's mouth and tongue retreat from the young woman's groin.
Wanda released Clarke's hands, her wings lifting up from the blonde's legs and Wanda climbed up to Clarke, wrapping her arms around Clarke's body, holding her close.
"I love you," Wanda said again to Clarke as she held the blonde, kissing Clarke's right ear as she held Clarke close to her chest as she felt Clarke shiver against her.
Then Wanda lowered her mouth and put her mouth on Clarke's mouth, spilling Clarke's cum that she had licked up, into Clarke's mouth, allowing Clarke to taste herself.
Wanda smirked at Clarke's small gasp in response.
Wanda knew that Clarke could taste that she was sweet.
Wanda then pulled away, chuckling at Clarke's gasp and reached out with her right hand, grabbing the glass of water, and moved back, bringing the glass of water to Clarke's mouth.
Clarke, while still shaking, allowed Wanda to pour the water down her throat.
When Wanda pulled the glass of water away, watching as Clarke leaned against her, getting water into her now.
After a few seconds of recovery, Clarke's haze cleared up enough for her to look at Wanda and ask, "What about you? Don't you need to also…?"
Wanda chuckled again. She had, actually. Many, many times.
"I did," she assured Clarke, "Vampires have advanced senses. When you came in my mouth, the smell, and the sounds you made and watching you arch up, set me off. I came on the mattress several times. So, I had many climaxes and orgasms."
Clarke's eyes widened.
"Oh," she said, startled, "Okay, really?"
Wanda nodded, smiling. "Don't worry," she said, "You don't need to do anything. We can…take care of that later."
Clarke swallowed, nodding.
Clarke honestly, had a hard time really comprehending what Wanda had done to her tonight.
She had never been fucked like that before.
Anya had gotten close to overstimulating her a few times. But never like that. Never endlessly using her mouth like Wanda had.
And even with a strap-on, which had been Anya's favorite form of fucking Clarke, Anya still hadn't overwhelmed her that much.
Murphy had tried to overstimulate her a few times, but got tired out, so he would resort to his fingers and mouth.
And the question was, would Clarke be willing to let Wanda have her way with her again?
Clarke already figured on the answer. Yes, she would. Happily.
If Wanda got her to feel even close to what she felt when Wanda used her mouth on her, then happily, Clarke would do it again.
What Wanda had done to her? Was thrilling. Wanda had devoured her and hadn't stopped, and hadn't listened to Clarke when she'd begged.
Clarke hadn't realized that experiencing that would feel so, so good.
Clarke was shaken up by what Wanda had done, but it had brought her so much pleasure, so much excitement and something deeper and more frightening that she couldn't put her finger on, but it had felt good.
It was only at that point, that Clarke remembered the vampires downstairs. "Um," she said, self-conscious, "Did the other vampires hear and smell what we were doing?"
Wanda smirked widely and Clarke groaned, closing her eyes. "Oh, shit, they did, didn't they?"
"Yes, love," Wanda said, "And they enjoyed the sounds and the smells very much. You don't need to feel embarrassed We're many centuries old, as you know. We've seen all sorts of sexual activities. Many of which, far more, I suppose you can say, 'kinkier,' than what we just did."
"I'm sure," Clarke groaned, "But…it just, it makes me nervous to think we were listened to like that."
"I promise you, Clarke," Wanda said, smiling, "There's nothing to be ashamed of. This is a perfectly normal thing for us to do."
Clarke snorted, "I know, I know. It's just a principle thing."
"We should probably get you some food," Wanda said, "Preferably something with sugar in it."
After Wanda gave Clarke some more water, she laid Clarke down and said softly, "Stay here. Rest. I will be right back."
Clarke nodded as she put her head down onto the pillow, glad that Wanda wasn't going to make her get up, unsure if she'd be able to walk for a while.
Wanda moved from the room, going downstairs to the kitchen, sharing a very satisfied grin with Clarke's other mates, as she sought out something with sugar in it.
Melina reached up into a cupboard and pulled out a couple of chocolate bars, that she'd seen Clarke stash away there earlier.
Wanda thanked Melina, as she took the two chocolate bars from the older vampire, and shot back up to the room where Clarke was laying down.
Wanda sat down on the edge of the bed, opening up the chocolate bars onto the table, next to the glass of water. She pulled a piece of the chocolate off of one of the bars, and gave it to Clarke, allowing Clarke to take it and gobble it up quickly.
Clarke barely sat up, as she reached for the water and downed some. Clarke put the glass back onto the small table and said quietly to Wanda, "Thank you."
Wanda smiled. "Of course, my love," she said.
Clarke tried not to react too much from the "my love" comment.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she should be resisting more. That her letting herself be swept away by a group of vampires that had stalked her family for centuries, had a fixation on her for all that time, long before her birth, and had stalked she herself, for years, since she was born into the world, could be considered "skeevy" in so, so many ways.
So many damn ways.
And Clarke was sure that some part of her considered it pretty skeevy too.
But you know what? She was tired. The people who were humans who she'd thought would love her had failed her, she honestly didn't see much of a future in any real profession offered in the world. And honestly? Even with her new hefty bank account, she wasn't sure she'd get any long lasting job. The economy and job market nowadays, was rough.
Before she had come to this city, in hopes of finding the Lavigne Manor that Steve Rogers had first informed her about? She'd worked odd jobs all around where she lived in New Hampshire. And nothing lasted.
Which again, led to burnout, especially since the job market wasn't good right now, and she'd worked over fifteen different jobs in one month alone before getting here and nothing had lasted.
And oh, yes, on top of everything else? Her dad had died and even before coming here and tracking down all the evidence, she severely had suspected her mother of having killed him, the same mother who had disowned her.
So, you know what? Maybe she got to just take a fucking break for a while.
She could figure out how to elude these vampires, after the break.
She wasn't sure exactly how she'd end up escaping these vampires, but she'd think of something.
Somehow.
For now, she could enjoy herself.
And hopefully, the vampires wouldn't force her into being a vampire, during that period.
She hoped.
Wanda helped sit Clarke up and gave her more chocolate and water.
After Clarke felt like she had some more energy, she looked at Wanda and asked tiredly, "The others? Are they going to want to-?"
Wanda chuckled, "Yes, of course, they will. But when they do, is up to you. If you're not comfortable with having sex with any of us, except me, then we all understand, sweetie."
Clarke nodded.
On one hand, Clarke knew that her sleeping with more than just one of them, would probably make them clingier.
On the other hand, it might get them to let their guard down. Which might just give her what she needed to escape them.
There was one problem. How did she keep them from following after her, after she eluded them?
After all, these vampires were much more powerful than any human. Much stronger, much faster.
How did someone get away from beings like that?
Even if she escaped them, how exactly would she be assured that they wouldn't catch her again?
Clarke's logical and troubled thoughts were sidelined when she felt Wanda gently stroking up and down along her spine.
Clarke glanced at the vampire, worried. Wanda was just smiling patiently at her. "We can go downstairs if you'd like. Or stay here. Whichever you prefer."
Clarke nodded, reminding herself that she was being watched, so, she needed to make sure she never announced her thoughts of escape.
Clarke, however, remembered something crucial. Wanda could read minds.
Clarke eyed the vampire, trying to see any indication that the vampire was reading her mind or something like that.
But she saw no hint of that.
"I can come downstairs," Clarke said, hoping desperately that Wanda wasn't reading her mind, "I think I just need a few more minutes."
Wanda nodded.
Clarke tried to think of which of the other vampires it might be a good idea to have sex with, in order to get them to think that she wouldn't try to leave them.
She doubted Natasha, Mari, Maria, Shayera, Dinah or Sylvie would be so easily duped.
Maybe Helena?
Yelena, Carol or Brunnhilde?
Clarke glanced at Wanda. Again, she really hoped Wanda wasn't reading her mind.
"And if you think having sex with us will let our guard down enough for you to get away, think again," Wanda said, looking far too assure of herself.
Clarke froze, her eyes widening.
Wanda smiled gently as she said, "Clarke, love, I'm not reading your mind. I don't need to. Are you forgetting? We watched you your entire life. We know you. So, I know that you're hoping that sleeping with a few of us, will get us to be unaware of when you try to run from us. Which won't work, by the way."
Clarke gasped, leaning back, fear spreading through her, realizing that she was trapped. Wanda's hand remained on her back, keeping her from going back too far.
"I'm sorry," Wanda said, voice still soft, "I'm sure you think this is us being cruel. But it's not. We're trying to protect you. And please understand, if we lose you, it will destroy all of us."
Clarke glared at Wanda, pain awash over her now.
"I don't have a choice as to whether or not I'm going to become a vampire, do I?" Clarke said quietly.
"No," Wanda said, "You don't. We're going to turn you. One way or another."
Clarke winced, pulling away, looking away from Wanda, glaring down at the sheets of the bed.
She heard Wanda sigh.
"You need time," she said, sounding understanding, "We'll give you that."
"Just leave me alone," Clarke said, still glaring.
Wanda got up from the bed, picked up her shoes and left.
Clarke didn't doubt that her being left alone would make absolutely no difference here. The vampires would be able to hear it easily if she tried to escape out a window or something.
So, after Wanda left, she just laid down, hugging herself.
If these vampires knew her well enough to guess what it was she was thinking, without even reading her mind, then what the hell was she going to do?
Wanda joined the other vampires downstairs, as she got her shoes back on.
The other vampires now appeared greatly saddened.
"She's in pain," Sylvie stated from where she was leaning against one of the kitchen walls, and her words were not a question.
"Yes," Wanda said, nodding. "She's taking knowing that she doesn't have a choice in whether or not she's turned, very badly."
"Are we surprised?" Natasha asked, her eyebrows lifting.
None of the vampires outright answered, but they all agreed.
No, they weren't surprised that Clarke wasn't taking all this well.
Clarke didn't like feeling trapped. Who did?
But they couldn't let her go.
"She needs time," Mari said, echoing what Wanda had said upstairs, "She just needs some time."
At least, that was what all the vampires hoped for.
Wanda nodded to the front door of the manor as she said, "I need to go feed. I should, before I lose control around Clarke."
Many of the other vampires made sounds of agreement.
Sylvie unlocked the front door and opened it, for Wanda to go through the door and run to the forest, to track down some deer or bears to feed on.
She heard Sylvie close and lock the door behind her as Wanda dashed through the rows of trees.
Because Clarke was their mate, they would never be able to drain her of her blood.
But there were other things to worry about.
Wanda's time with Clarke, had caused her to get excited and the scent of Clarke had driven Wanda close to losing control of her instincts.
And while Wanda would have been incapable of draining Clarke of blood because of Wanda's mate bond with Clarke, the beast inside her would have done…other troubling things.
She could have bitten Clarke, drank some of her blood, then torn her wrist and forced her bloody wrist into Clarke's mouth, forcing Clarke into being a vampire right then and there.
Or Wanda, as much as it shamed her, might have forced herself on Clarke. Might have actually taken Clarke sexually by force.
It was something that Wanda feared. But she knew at least that had she lost control like that, the other vampires would have stopped her from assaulting Clarke.
But still, Wanda would feel more secure, to track down some animals and feed on them.
Lying down in the bed upstairs, Clarke thought quickly of Maurice Dumont's book. And after grabbing some more chocolate, eating it, then drinking some more water, she leaned off of the bed somewhat and grabbed her shirt, pulling it on, then getting up and walked to where she had put Maurice's journal.
She grabbed it, then went back to the bed, lying down and carefully opening it, hoping the sounds were too quiet for the vampires to pick up.
There had to be something in Maurice Dumont's writings about stopping these vampires.
But then again, if the thing that the vampires had told Clarke, and if what Clarke had read in the journal, was true, then Maurice Dumont clearly feared the vampires that had stalked him and his family.
As he should.
Not to mention, as what Clarke had learned from the story of Hugo Lavigne being punished by his son, Andre Lavigne being killed, any action that Maurice might have taken against the vampires, would likely have been punished horribly, by seeing either his wife, Annette, or his children being killed in front of him.
And why wouldn't the vampires have possibly killed Maurice's children as payback for any retaliation from him?
After all, apparently, it was Pierre and Camille Dumont's children, who would lead to Clarke eventually being born, not Maurice Dumont's children.
Pierre and Camille Dumont's daughter, Marie Dumont, after marrying her husband, Phillipe Boucher, was Marie Boucher, and her husband, Phillipe Boucher, were after all, Clarke's direct ancestors.
What use had the vampires had for Maurice Dumont, his wife and their children?
It was a terrible thing, but if Andre Lavigne's murder, not to mention the murders of Gabriel and Marsha Griffin, were anything to go by? Then it was likely that the vampires had considered Maurice Dumont and his wife and children to be expendable.
Clarke, nevertheless, started looking through the different pages.
She could understand everything that was written in this book, even if this book was in French and she didn't know even a lick of French.
But alas, there was nothing in this journal about any indication about anything that could be used against the vampires.
Clarke huffed, closing the journal.
Just what could she do?
Stakes, sunlight, garlic, holy water, crosses and silver didn't do anything to them.
So, what could she do?
Clarke sighed, picking up the journal again and just happened to open up the journal from the back.
Which brought her to looking at two of the very back pages, and reading the words on those pages, gave her pause.
Something about Maurice and Pierre meeting near the very end of their lives, when they both were in their late eighties.
Clarke's blue eyes scanned the words on the first of the last two pages.
Maurice described meeting his brother, Pierre, near the river of Rouen, in fact, the same exact river, where this whole thing had started for them, when they had witnessed the brutal deaths of their mother's rapist brothers.
Maurice had spoken with Pierre at the river, talked about family things-as to be expected, but also, more unusual subjects.
Evidently, both brothers had traveled to different countries, after their children had grown up and had their own lives, and after their mother and father went off to spend their golden years in a country house in the French countryside, and as a result of both brothers' travels, they had discovered a lot about the world.
But as fate seemed to have it, the favor of discovery apparently shined upon one brother more than the other.
While Maurice had seen many interesting things in the world, Pierre Dumont was the one that had discovered something actually supposedly magical.
He and his wife, Camille, had traveled together to different parts of the world. But eventually, when Pierre and Camille were in their very early fifties, in 1652, they had reached Nepal. And they had learned from a guide, that there was a temple where there was a great, but terrible book of power, known as the "Darkhold."
And this book, the Darkhold, had disappeared by the time Pierre and Camille Dumont arrived. Because supposedly, thieves had come by the temple, had grabbed the Darkhold and had left with it.
The guide had said that the thief was a warlock, named "Strange."
Clarke frowned, remembering what the vampires had told her. About the warlock that had told them about her.
Strange. The warlock, Stephen Strange. How many warlocks were out there that had the name "Strange" in their name?
Clarke took a breath. So, the warlock, Stephen Strange may have just stolen a magic book. But why?
She remembered the vampires telling her that the warlock, Strange, had told them about Clarke, years before they had started stalking Pierre and Maurice Dumont, which meant that Strange likely already had all the magic he could want.
So, why take the Darkhold?
Did magic run out? Was that why he had stolen it?
Clarke kept reading.
Apparently, Pierre told his brother, Maurice, that the guide had told him and his wife, Camille, that the people there had encountered Strange before, and Strange, lived somewhere in America. Strange had even spoken to the guides of where he was from, making small talk, before the guides had made it clear to him, that they would not willingly give him the Darkhold.
Strange had told them that he lived in New Amsterdam.
Now, Clarke wasn't all that good at remembering history. But she knew what "New Amsterdam," was.
Or what it used to be.
New York City.
New York City was the name that city was given, around the 1660s. So, during when Pierre and his wife met the guides at Nepal in 1652, the city was still called "New Amsterdam."
So, Strange had supposedly taken the Darkhold and had brought it to New Amsterdam, a city soon to be called "New York City," about fourteen years after the Darkhold had first been taken.
But again, why? Why had Strange taken that book in the first place?
Clarke still read some more.
Maurice explained in this segment that Pierre didn't take mentions of any magic book seriously, but he and Camille had treated the guides all with upmost respect, then left soon afterwards. But there was no mention again about the Darkhold.
Just what Pierre and Camille had been told about it.
That it was an extremely dangerous book. And that it could summon creatures from "horrid depths," and attack one's foe. Amongst other terrible spells.
After Maurice heard this information, he and his brother still talked about other things, before leaving each other, and Maurice left an afterthought in the pages.
He said that he was going to send a letter to his grandson, Claude Sauveterre, named for his father, who Maurice's daughter, Ines, had married, and ask that his grandson, Claude, who was in this part of the journal, sixteen, to make an excursion from Rouen, France, to New Amsterdam, in North America.
It wasn't the United States yet, as that name was given to the continent in 1776.
Clarke read Maurice mentioning that he would write the letter to his grandson Claude, and that if Claude came back with the Darkhold, there might be hope to fight the vampires that were "hunting the Dumont blood."
That was how Maurice put it. "Hunting the Dumont blood."
Clarke read more, hoping to find an answer.
If this Darkhold actually existed, and if it was found by Maurice's grandson, then maybe, just maybe, she might be able to find it.
She paged through the next segments and her eyes widened, her heart falling.
She saw the reason why Claude Sauveterre, Maurice's grandson, was labeled in that other book, as "D UNM," in other words, "Died unmarried."
Claude, sixteen-year-old Claude, according to Maurice's newer pages, was dead, by his tenth day being in New Amsterdam.
Clarke stared at the words on the page, seeing the squiggly lines of the letters, which was so uncharacteristic of Maurice's writing style, from what she had read beforehand, anyway.
And those many squiggly lined letters explained that Claude had gone to New Amsterdam to retrieve the Darkhold, and he was killed. Maurice knew that, because Claude's body was returned to Rouen by ship. By the time, the body had reached Rouen, the body, of course, had begun to deteriorate, and what Maurice, his grieving wife, Annette, and grieving daughter, Ines and grieving granddaughter, Jeanne, poor Claude, had his throat cut.
Clarke's lower jaw clenched.
Now, there were a few possibilities here.
Number one; Stephen Strange had killed Claude.
Number two; the vampires that said they were Clarke's mates, had killed Claude.
Number three; a complete stranger who had just looked to rob Claude, had killed him, deciding to take advantage of a traveler who was on his own.
Of course, the last of those three possibilities sounded the most realistic, didn't it?
But Clarke had learned of too much lately, to take things just as, "oh, this sounds most likely because it's realistic, so, that's the actual thing that happened."
By now? Clarke wasn't sure she understood what counted as "realistic" and "unrealistic."
So, Clarke closed the journal, sat up, and was about to reach for the rest of the clothes, storm downstairs and curse out the vampires for potentially killing yet one more of her family members, when she paused.
Wait, she could use this.
There was no other mention of the Darkhold after Claude's body was returned to Rouen.
Which meant that there was a strong possibility that it might very well still be in New York City.
And if that was the case? Then there might be a chance that Clarke might be able to get her hands on it and use it against the vampires.
She knew, in theory, that was a hugely bad idea.
Because according to the guides at Nepal where Pierre and Camille had visited? The Darkhold was extremely dangerous.
And after everything Clarke had seen and heard? She wasn't sure she'd doubt those warnings.
But here were her options; she either grabbed the Darkhold, and tried to use it against the vampires that were planning to turn her against her will, or she allowed the vampires to sire her against her will, and have no choice in that, and become a blood drinking murderer.
Thinking about that, Clarke made her decision quickly.
She'd find the Darkhold.
Hopefully it was still in New York City.
But then the question became, if it was still there, how was she going to get to it? The vampires most likely would stop her. And even if they didn't? What if Stephen Strange was still alive and had no plans on sharing it with anyone?
Clarke knew she'd have to come up with a plan for that. But at least now, she had an idea of what to do afterwards.
She'd just need to figure out how to get the Darkhold.
She got up from the bed, and grabbed her other clothes and put them on. She checked the windows, seeing some light coming in.
It was still early in the morning.
She'd head downstairs and obviously, would have to face Wanda and the others.
When she got all of her clothes on, including her socks and shoes, she got out of the door, and went down the stairs and got to the lower level of the house.
She reached the first floor of the house, and cautiously looked around the room at the vampires there and she frowned.
She didn't see Wanda anywhere.
"Wondering where Wanda is, love?" Sylvie asked, "She went out hunting. She understandably got excited when you two had sex. So, she went hunting, to calm herself down."
That caused Clarke's eyebrows to raise up.
She asked, "Wanda would need to hunt to calm herself down? You mean she would have attacked me?"
"In a way," Shayera said, snickering where she was seated on the dining room table, "None of us would ever kill you. But should any of us lose control of ourselves, you could be in danger, either because we'd change you into a vampire, or we'd force ourselves on you, sexually. Or both."
Clarke actually froze with this information. They might actually…actually rape her, if they lost control?
At Clarke's troubled expression, Natasha said gently, "As long as we keep ourselves fed? There's no reason to fear, malyshka. As long as we keep ourselves fed, we won't lose control."
Clarke almost laughed.
That wasn't as reassuring as it probably was supposed to be.
But Clarke asked, hoping not to dwell to much on it, "When is Wanda expected back?"
"Soon, love," Natasha assured her, "She usually doesn't hunt longer than an hour at the most. And we vampires, are fast, so, she'll track down food quickly."
Clarke nodded and moved through the living room, more than sure that these vampires had heard what Wanda had said to her about being turned into a vampire.
Finally, Mari sighed a few feet from Clarke, "Do you want to talk about what you and Wanda said to each other?"
"Honestly, no," Clarke said bluntly.
Shayera put in, "We're going to have to talk about it eventually."
"Why?" Clarke asked, "You've all already made the decision for me. So, why does what I say matter to all of you?"
Clarke knew that her words were harsh and she had meant them to be.
There was silence, then Melina said, "We still would like you to accept it willingly. To be happy when we turn you. To know that we're doing it for love."
"Love," Clarke snorted, laughing, "All of you have been saying that word so much. But it doesn't exactly feel like love when you control my life. When you make sure I can't leave."
"And you slept with Wanda?" Dinah asked, sounding curious as to why Clarke had done it, if Clarke was as upset as she was.
"Well," Clarke said, "I believe Wanda talked about that."
"That's all?" Dinah asked, "You just slept with Wanda, because you were hoping to find a way to escape? There wasn't any other reason?"
Clarke scoffed, but she was positive that they already knew what she felt for them, "What other reason would it be?"
"Clarke," Natasha said, "We know how you've been looking at us."
Clarke fought the urge to glare at the vampire that had spoken, as she headed into the dining room, ignoring the vampires' looks at her.
"So, all of you are hot," Clarke protested, "So what? That's just physical attraction. That doesn't count for much."
Clarke could feel no hurt from anyone in the room, but Shayera said, her voice far too calm, "True. That's true, Clarke. But I think you know that we have far more to offer you than just physical beauty. And I am not just talking about sexual pleasure. But as we all know, you know very well we can offer a great deal of that to you too."
Clarke tensed up. She did not need to think about how Wanda had used her mouth on her without almost any control or hesitance this morning.
"But," Shayera continued, and Clarke could almost feel Shayera's smirk turning into a real smile, "We can offer you more too. Like a family. A home. And I don't just mean this manor. Clarke, we know that you want children."
Clarke froze, mid step, just steps away from the cupboards.
She slowly turned and stared at Shayera.
It wasn't a surprise to her that Shayera and the other vampires knew that, since they'd been watching her for years, but it was a surprise to her that they were bringing it up.
Yes, Clarke wanted children. After her father was murdered and she had grown to suspect her mother to be responsible, she had hesitated in thinking more on it.
After all, if her mother and father were like that, what could she offer any child as an example of what sort of adult to be when that child grew up?
"What's that got to do with anything?" She asked, and she couldn't keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.
Shayera didn't say anything, but Clarke heard a shift of movement behind her and she whirled around, to see Carol moving off of the wall, from where she leaned, and went to a shelf where there was a small, leather bag placed on one shelf.
Clarke hadn't recalled that bag being there before, so, she had to assume that it was new.
Carol opened the bag up, reached inside and pulled something out. It was a light brownish colored, thin chain necklace, with a locket at the end.
Carol opened up the locket and said, walking over to Clarke, "That bag belongs to Wanda. So does this locket."
Clarke wasn't sure why Carol had rifled through Wanda's personal things, but didn't comment.
Carol held out the opened up locket for Clarke to see what was inside.
Clarke looked down at the locket. Naturally, there were two pictures inside the locket.
The pictures both were of a young boy.
"Long before you ever came to Lavigne Manor," Carol continued, "Wanda met another vampire, who died later on. He wasn't her mate, but they had two children together. Two boys. Twins. The boy with the red shirt on, is Billy. The boy with the green jacket, is Tommy."
Clarke's eyes widened.
Wanda had children?
Clarke then almost felt like facepalming. Yes, Wanda had children.
Wanda had told Clarke she had children. Back at Jeri Hogarth's office!
However, by the time Clarke had learned of what Wanda and the others were, she had just assumed that Wanda was making it up.
Because she just had assumed that Wanda had made up the story of her sons, so that Clarke would see her as a regular person just trying to reach ends meet.
Clarke looked closely at the locket.
The boy with the green jacket, Tommy, had longer, curlier hair.
The boy with the red shirt, Billy, had shorter, straighter hair.
The boys looked to be about ten or eleven.
Clarke tried to ignore the warmth in her chest, seeing the pictures of those happy faces.
The mental image of her and Wanda looking after these two young boys entered her mind and she tried to ignore that too.
She breathed out softly as she said, remembering something else Wanda had told her at Jeri Hogarth's office, "Does Wanda have a brother too? I remember her mentioning him."
"She does," Carol said, "Pietro Maximoff. Wanda's twin."
Clarke looked up at Carol, startled.
So, the story that Wanda had told her, was true.
She remembered what Wanda had told her about her life and about Pietro. That they both had been orphaned at a young age. That they'd been adopted. That their adoptive parents were murdered in some explosion. And they had become vengeful.
Sooner than expected, there was a knock on the front door of the house, causing Clarke and Carol both to turn to the door.
Sylvie unlocked the door and opened it, letting Wanda come in.
Clarke couldn't even feel all that much shock when she watched as Wanda licked the blood from her lips, before she smiled at Clarke, as Sylvie closed the door and locked it.
"Clarke, I see you're up." Wanda acknowledged.
Clarke nodded, then looking down at the locket in Carol's hands.
"Hope you don't mind, Wanda," Carol said, holding up the locket, "Just thought Clarke would want to get to know Billy and Tommy."
"I don't mind at all," Wanda said, smiling at Clarke, "I'd like for her to know about the children that are going to be her sons."
Author's note
Why do I keep putting the Darkhold into my stuff?