Bonus Chapter: The First Celebrities, or The Missing Years
A/N: Hey, y'all! Did you miss me? If you've been following this story for a while, you might have noticed I technically finished it in November 2020. But I didn't hit complete because I'm a perfectionist and wanted to make some edits first. Come to eight months later, and I've essentially rewritten every chapter… Sorry? You're welcome? Besides fixing plot holes and improving the writing overall, I dug deeper into Kol's journey. Anyway, this is it. No more Vendetta Diaries. What started as a pet project became an obsession during the pandemic, but it's time to move on.
I never originally intended to write a bonus chapter, but then I thought…why not one last hurrah, fill some gaps? I jumped over such a huge amount of time from Pacari to La Nouvelle-Orleans because I wanted to only show scenes that served the narrative and character arcs; I had to rein myself in. But I missed so many opportunities for juicy cameos! I jumped over 170 years! I had an idea of what the characters were getting up to, but it was fun to explore the possibilities. What follows is fun historical fiction mixed with bodice-ripping, shameless smut – ye be warned.
Calais, France
1532
"Is he out?"
Mariko glanced down at the snoring blob on the floor, his pale complexion ruddy from the copious amounts of madeira he'd consumed that night. Henry had once been a fit and handsome man full of vitality, but age, ego, and gluttony were beginning to ruin him. She could have knocked him out on a chair, yet his position on the cold floor seemed much more fitting. She sent the woman on the bed a sly smile.
"Won't wake til' morning."
"Good. Now come to bed," Anne ordered, allowing the sheet to fall off her shoulder and expose one perfectly shaped mound.
Mariko's chemise trailed behind her as she crossed the bedchamber. She paused at the foot of the bed to slip out of the silk, then grabbed the post and hoisted herself up like an acrobat.
The brunette's dark gaze lingered on her flesh as it twisted in the candlelight. She sat up on her kneels and leaned close to her lover.
"I felt your eyes on me the entire night," she confessed. "My entire body was aflame."
Mariko palmed her cheek lovingly. "I know; your cheeks were flushed all night." Her touch lowered to Anne's chest. "As was your bosom."
"When I am queen and he has fattened me with child and turned his gaze to younger, prettier, skinnier things, will you still come to me?" Anne asked shyly.
The witch placed butterfly kisses on her pink circles. "I wouldn't be able to resist. He would be a fool to, though I'd not wish him on you ever again."
"It is a sacrifice I am willing to make for power," Anne murmured.
Mariko sighed, peppering her throat with kisses. Anne slid her hands down her sides, grasping her hips and pushing her down into the sheets. Mariko went willingly – Anne had been thoroughly trained in the art of sex.
"As queen, we will not have to be as careful," said Anne.
"When you're the queen, we'll have to be even more careful," Mariko countered.
Anne lifted Mariko's calf over her shoulder and skimmed her nose along her inner thigh. Her soft lips tasted, licked, and sucked the witch's almond-colored skin. Mariko lifted her other leg, allowing Anne full access.
The lady latched on to her quivering core, her tongue massaging the bundle of nerves.
Mariko let out a strangled moan, and Anne pulled back to hold a finger to her lips. She responded by sucking Anne's finger into her mouth. The brunette's eyes rolled back at the erotic movements of Mariko's tongue. When her finger was released to her, she slid it down Mariko's chest, leaving a glistening trail on her lover's small breasts. She lowered her face to Mariko's nub again.
She laid her tongue flat against the wetness, placed a circle of kisses all around the area, then blew on it with a cool breath. Mariko shuddered and writhed on the bed, her heartbeat rising. A thin layer of sweat erupted over her goosebumps; she was so close.
"Who is making you feel this way?" Anne whispered hoarsely when she came up for air.
"You, Anne!"
"And who I will be in less than six months?"
"The Qu- the Queen of bloody England!" cried Mariko.
"Good." Anne pressed her thumb into Mariko before thrusting her tongue fully inside the warm center.
Mariko closed her eyes as she succumbed to the familiar falling sensation. Beneath her lids, she saw white pinpricks as the waves rocked through her body.
Anne went deeper, knowing she could draw it out. The witch screamed, her hips thrusting into her lover's face and covering her lips with her fluids.
When Anne finally leant back and stared down at her with a satisfied smile, she looked every part the queen.
Kingdom of Hungary
1590
The Countess had just sat down for dinner when a loud knocking reverberated through the castle. It could have been mistaken for thunder from the storm raging outside, but only moments later, two footmen ran into the room with frightened expressions.
"My lady, pardon the interruption, but there is a man at the front door who insists on seeing the master of the castle. We told him your husband is away, but that only made him insist on seeing you. Shall we beat him away?"
Elizabeth stood. "Certainly not." She marched into the front hall with the men at her heels. A soaking wet figure with a cloak pulled low over his face stood in the threshold of the castle.
"My sincere apologies, Countess, but I must beg for shelter. I am hunted by a very dangerous man who seeks my death." His husky voice spoke with only the faintest of accents.
"I always hold out a hand to a stranger. But let us not be strangers. We are too far from court for such formalities. I am Elizabeth."
The man pulled the cloak away from his face. "My name is Elijah."
He was beautiful. The most beautiful man she'd ever seen; fine bone structure, hollow cheeks, and a strong jaw. He was tall and muscular with brown curls that tumbled into his dark eyes. Though dressed like a vagrant, he had the posture of a king.
"My men will show you to a room where you can bathe and dress in warm clothes. Then I insist you join me for dinner."
"You are most kind, my lady." But he did not move.
She titled her head to one side. "Please come inside, Elijah."
A strange shudder rippled down his back, relaxing his muscles. He stepped inside. "Thank you."
She did not take her eyes off his retreating form as he followed her men up the staircase. When she returned to the dining hall, she did not sit. She paced in front of the fireplace, deep in thought, barely noticing as the servants set another place at the table and carried in more food.
It was not long before Elijah joined her. He cut quite the figure in her husband's clothes. In fact, he wore them better than Ferenc. God, he was tall.
"Better?" she questioned slyly.
"Much." He bowed to her in gratitude before stepping forward to lead her to her chair. His touch was cool and lingering.
As soon as he settled into the seat opposite her, Aron the footman stepped forward to fill their wine goblets. Elizabeth glanced at his neck as he bent over the table.
There was a bite mark just under his collar.
Her eyes shifted up to meet Elijah's. He smiled at her and lifted his goblet in a toast. "You are a lady of fine character. Again, my endless gratitude, Countess."
They drank. "Didn't I tell you to call me Elizabeth?" she teased. "We're friends now."
"Ah, yes. I forgot how fast friends are made on cold, stormy nights in castles situated on high hills surrounded by a labyrinthine forest, perilous mountains…" he said with a wink. "And wolves."
Almost as if he'd heard them before she had, a pack of wolves howled in the distance. Elizabeth leaned forward.
"And how did you manage to fight the elements and emerge relatively untouched, save for some raindrops?"
"Luck."
"Oh, I think it's more than that."
"When one's life is on the line, anything is possible."
"I see. And what do you think of my forsaken castle?"
"Forsaken? No, no. I would never call it forsaken. This is my sanctuary."
"You are welcome to stay as long as you need."
"My thanks, but I must remain on the move. I'll only inconvenience you for the night."
She did not respond. Her eyes slid over him once more, and then she returned to her food.
After a few minutes, Elijah spoke again. "You do not find it curious I am hunted?"
"This is a violent land."
"No more violent than other parts of the world."
"Well traveled, are you?"
"Reasonably."
"I do find it curious that you are Vampyre."
She hadn't been positive, but his startled expression told her all she needed to know. The need to be invited inside by the master of the house, the bite mark, how he'd survived in the wilderness during a storm… She'd grown up on the tales of blood drinkers.
"Don't look so surprised, Master Elijah. Think of where you are."
"Are you a witch?"
She laughed. "I wish. Every child within a hundred miles has heard of Vlad Dracula."
His shock fell away to weary amusement. "Ostentatious fool."
"Did he turn you?" she asked eagerly.
He scoffed. "Don't insult me. Vlad was turned by my brother for a laugh, and as always, my siblings and I had to clean up his mess. Good riddance."
"We were always told Vlad had reclused himself deep in the mountains of Transylvania."
"He was a very short-lived vampire; I cut off his head myself. He endangered the secrecy of our existence," he explained. "A vampire too out-of-control is only a threat to others."
"And you? Have you ever lost control?" she questioned.
A haunted look darkened his handsome features. "Too many times."
"I find that hard to believe."
"We all do at some point. I can only boast my taste for violence faded centuries ago. I wish I could say the same for my siblings."
"A family of immortals…" Elizabeth muttered in awe.
He cast her a wry smile across the table. "One family that has caused much bloodshed and despair."
"So is the way of the world," she said dispassionately. "Tell me about them. You're not fleeing them, are you?"
He hesitated for a brief moment, taking a long sip of wine before responding. "No, I am not running from my siblings. There is…another. As I am sure you understand, some family secrets must remain protected."
She nodded in acquiescence.
He continued. "I have three brothers and one sister. The eldest…keeps to himself. My middle brother teeters between monster and elegant nobleman, and is usually reined in by his precocious wife, though she has not been entirely stable as of late. My sister is currently living in seclusion at one of our family homes."
"And the third brother?"
Again, he hesitated, this time tapping his fingers against the table in irritation. "My youngest brother did something unforgivable. My sister-in-law made sure he would not hurt anyone else for a long time."
When she tilted her head to one side, the pearl choker around her neck cut into her skin, but she ignored the pain. "What did he do?"
"It is not polite conversation."
Elizabeth smiled without humor. "We speak of immortal, bloodsucking monsters, Elijah. You will not frighten me."
"As you say. My family founded an institute for girls, both school and refuge, in the heart of Paris. We all loved the students and sought to help them thrive. But one day, my youngest brother returned from a journey abroad. He was not quite himself – looking back, I can see the signs. But… Ah, well. He massacred them. All but one of the little girls were torn apart."
Elizabeth gasped. Elijah bowed his head.
"We built a mass grave under the foundation of the abbey and carved their names in the wall. None of us have returned to Paris since."
"How cruel of your brother."
"He was not always like that. The bloodlust changed him. Like Vlad, he became uncontrollable."
Elizabeth examined her thumbnail; it was razor sharp. "I was taught control at a young age. And cruelty – ah, the cruelty. I had falling sickness as a child. My doctors came up with very inventive ways to treat me." She rose from her chair and stalked towards him.
"Did anything work?" he asked drily, but his eyes watched her with wariness as she approached.
She laughed, "That depends on your perspective." Once she stood before him, she sliced her thumbnail into her bottom lip. She smeared a droplet of blood against his mouth and watched in fascination as his eyes grew bloodshot and veins erupted over his perfect skin.
"They gave me blood."
He pulled her down into his lap. She sensed the servants leaving the room, and boldly raised her fingers to touch his fangs.
"Did it help?" he growled.
She licked her bottom lip, tasting the blood. "Debatable."
They lay in Elizabeth's bed that night draped around each other, her sweating and breathless, him cool and silent. His fingers traced circles on her bare back as she thought back on their conversation.
"Turn me." She said it under her breath; it fell from her lips as a soft hush. But she knew he would hear her.
He stiffened before shifting away. "What?"
She blinked up at him. "Turn me. I want to be a vampire. I want the endless night and the sex and danger and freedom."
He frowned. "You want the immortality. You fear aging."
"Is that such an evil thing?"
He smoothed his palms over her face, pushing back stray hairs that had fallen over her eyes. His dark gaze was penetrating, scrutinizing. She saw the decision in his expression.
"Why?" she demanded. "Why do you refuse me?"
He began reaching for his shirt, but she grabbed his arm and twisted it. He gaped at her surprising display of power.
"You must have turned hundreds, thousands by now. What difference does it make?"
"It…I…" he faltered as she released her grip and sat up in a change of tactics. The sheet fell from her shoulders to reveal her large, supple breasts and nipples hardening quickly in the drafty room.
"I think I've been a wonderful host. I offered you safe harbor from the one who chases you, I fed you, shared my bed and my blood. Is this so much to ask in return? I can already see my appearance fading. There are crinkles around my eyes, and lines on my forehead, and my skin is not as supple as it once was…" His expression did not change. "I refuse to watch my body decay! It is not fair!"
"There is something desperate about you, Elizabeth. In my experience, desperate people do not make good vampires."
"I wouldn't be desperate if I were immortal," she snapped, jerking away from him.
His sad smile held a wisdom that did not match his unchanged features. "I am sorry."
Elizabeth watched from the highest tower as he galloped away from her the following morning, taking with him all her hope for immortality.
But then, she thought, maybe the magic is in the blood, no matter if I'm Vampyre or not.
A manservant appeared in the doorway behind her to say the kitchen was asking what she'd like for dinner.
She did not answer right away; she'd been distracted by the sight of her hand on the windowsill. The smooth, pale skin was flawless – for now. It was only a matter of time.
"I do not desire food tonight," she murmured, her gaze shifting to the courtyard where two servant girls carried pails of water from the well to the kitchens. Little virgins… It seemed she had the same weakness as the third brother. "I'll be taking a bath."
"We'll begin heating the water at once."
"I require several maids to assist me. Young ones – they are so much more…delicate."
"Of course, Countess Bathory."
London, England
1600
The spectators breathed as one, transforming the Globe from a barebones structure into a living organism. Under the blinding August sun, steam rose from the dirt floor of the yard and hung over the crowd in a smog that reeked of unwashed flesh, stale beer, and fresh piss. Tiny pickpockets darted and jetted under arms and legs, indiscriminately targeting swaying drunkards and rapt observers. All around the hybrid, men yelled at the stage. Yet nothing could distract Pacari from the mesmerizing play.
He'd sailed from Spain across the Channel only two months previously, and his initial estimation of England had been quite low. Until he had discovered theatre.
Located on the shores of the Thames, the circular playhouses adhered to all classes and roused the imaginations of all ages. The Lord Chamberlain's Men were his favorite company. Their theater was the Globe, their principal actor the acclaimed Richard Burbage, and most importantly, their lead dramatist was William Shakespeare.
Pacari had seen three of Shakespeare's plays in the short time since he'd first attended a performance. The first was Romeo and Juliet, a tragedy about uncompromising, star-crossed lovers with soaring poetic language and complex wordplay. Next had been Much Ado About Nothing, a luscious comedy set apart by the biting wit of the two main characters.
But this new tragedy was something else entirely. It masqueraded as a revenge play, but it was more a play about revenge, with the protagonist's inner turmoil taking precedence over plot. It posed a revolutionary question: to wait or to act. Pacari was in awe of the poet's achievement. When Laertes threw himself into his sister's grave, it was a stark reminder of his own mourning when the last person he'd known in his human life had died. It had crossed his mind, too, to simply join them in death, for the prospect of a future without the people with whom he shared a culture and history was lonely and unknown. He'd felt the same dissonance again when he'd finally departed his homeland, after the last Inca city of Vilcabamba had fallen.
"What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis, who phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wand'ring stars and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane."
He felt no embarrassment when wet drops began leaking from his burning eyes. Transfixed, he kept his gaze fixed on the stage, and did not bother wiping the tears away. It was more honest that way.
That night Pacari went to the public house the troupe frequented after performances. The brilliant playwright sat in a corner with a pint of ale, in strong need of a bath, a shave, and long night's sleep. But while his demeanor was haggard, his eyes were alight with excitement. He was a man who had thrown his entire soul into a project and was grappling with both devastation and relief that it was over. No longer his, it was now theirs.
Pacari joined him at the table and slid him a new pint.
Shakespeare accepted it, though he seemed somewhat startled by the giver's appearance; Pacari looked like no Englishman. "Cheers, mate. I'm Will."
"I know," Pacari said with a grin. "Call me Pedro. I saw your play today."
Will toasted him. "What'd you think? Too long, innit?"
"Mate, I think you're being a bit hard on yourself…"
Florence, Italy
1616
A single orange flutter shone through the portal window on the top floor. A disembodied hand dipped a quill into an ink pot, disrupting the flame – someone was working through the night. In contrast, the nearby Arno River was a whispering ribbon, the surrounding houses dark and silent.
Kol allowed Katerina to lead him not to the front entrance, but a dark side alley. She released her grip on him to lightly knock on a plain wooden door.
"Signorina Petrova," greeted a servant with a pleasantly surprised smile. "Si accomodi!"
Katerina beamed at him before explaining his master needed to come to the door to allow her friend inside.
"An unfortunate symptom of our condition, I'm afraid," she finished in Italian.
The servant bowed before disappearing into the house. Kol glanced at his companion.
"He's human?" He couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed. He'd hoped Katerina would be bringing him to a witch.
"He is," she said. "But trust me, he's well worth our time."
And oddly enough, Kol did trust her.
"Well, my Italian is a bit rusty," he grumbled, though he was exaggerating for the sake of being curmudgeonly.
"No matter – we prefer English here, Signore. La lingua pura." A man stood in the open doorway, the lines of his face highlighted by the candle in his hand.
"Leo!" gasped Katerina. He set down the candle and opened his arms to her. She fell into his friendly embrace. When they pulled apart, the Italian looked Kol up and down.
"This is my companion Kol Mikaelson. You'll find him even more fascinating than me; he's been around since the time of the Vikings," Katerina introduced.
"I was a Viking," Kol corrected.
His brows flew towards his hairline. "Any friend of Kat's is a friend of mine. I am Galileo Galilei, astronomer, physicist, and social outcast. You are free to enter my humble abode. Welcome, welcome, come out of the fell autumn chill."
"My friend has been bedridden for quite some time," the younger vampire explained as they entered. "I was hoping you could help…enlighten him?"
"For you Katerina, anything." He winked at Kol. "She helped me during my trial; prevented my execution."
"If I had my way, those senile fools would be at the bottom of the Arno. Alas, Leo forbade me."
"It would not have been right."
"And what they did was right? Made you a laughingstock and forced you to deny your life's work? Deny the truth every scientist in the world knows has been proven?"
"My dignity for my life. It was enough, Katerina."
She rolled her eyes and led the way up a rickety staircase. It was the first time all day he was seeing her without her cloak. Her petite form was trapped under a riot of lace, frills, and brocade in pale grey silk. Heavy pearl necklaces adorned her elegant neck, so long they came down to her waist. He could tell by the way she was favoring one side her whale bone stomacher was painfully digging into her flesh. The changes in fashion in a little over a century had been drastic, and he was still adjusting to it. Women and men both were expected to dress up in ridiculous costumes that contorted and hid their natural forms. It was frustrating. He missed the days of soft breeches and unstructured skirts.
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Katerina opened the door at the top of the stairs to reveal Galileo's study.
Though the attic was of a generous size, it seemed much smaller due to the sheer amount of stuff hogging space on every available surface. Spindly instruments and bronze scales and leatherbound globes shared shelf space with encyclopedias, journals, and heavy tomes. One table was devoted entirely to maps of the night sky with scribbles all over them. Kol noticed several gorgeous solar system models constructed of brass and colored Murano glass.
The desk under the portal window was the single bare space in the entire room, where a neat stack of papers lay next to a quill and ink pot. On the opposite side of the attic was a larger window. An odd device sitting on three delicate legs sat in front of the glass, one end of its cylinder top facing them while the other was pointed to the night sky. Kol was immediately drawn to it, having never seen anything like it before.
"That's my telescope," Galileo told him.
"What does it do?" asked Kol.
"I improved upon a design by a Dutch eyeglass-maker and applied it to astronomy. With it, I can study the stars and planets and galaxy."
Kol whipped around. "You mean, you can see them up close?"
"Precisely. Would you care to take a peek?"
"Yes. Yes, I would."
Kol lay in bed reeling from all the knowledge that had been shared with him. It was astonishing. The three of them had spent hours discussing the Church, the state of the world, all the new breakthroughs in science and mathematics. Galileo, who was on house arrest, did not sleep much, but he was still human. An hour outside dawn, they retreated to their respective rooms.
He rolled over to stare through his window at the twinkling stars. He had been able to get a close look at the red Mars just a few hours earlier. Even more fascinating had been the surface of the moon, covered in dunes and plateaus and rugged plains.
The door opened with a whisper. He didn't turn, for he knew who was there.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Blown away."
Katerina crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. He twisted slightly to glance at her. Gone was the awful, starched lace ruff around her neck and the terrifying farthingale and the sexless bodice. She wore a white chemise, nearly transparent in the moonlight. Her shining chestnut hair lay loosely over one shoulder.
They had left Wales as soon as she'd woken him; he'd had no desire to waste any more time in that godforsaken land. During the crossing from the British Isles to the mainland and then Florence, they had bonded, building a comradery he hadn't often found before. He was gaining respect for her and her clever wit and survival skills. And there was certainly no denying their mutual attraction.
Nothing had happened – yet. Perhaps that was about to change.
"Still sore from that stomacher?"
"Hurts like a bitch," she admitted. "Want to kiss it better?"
She didn't give him a chance to respond before stepping out of the chemise and sliding on top of him, fully naked.
Yes, change was in the air.
He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, relishing the feel of her silken flesh. She smirked down at him through hooded eyes.
"Feels better already."
He lifted his hips to tease her. "Darling, I can do a lot better than that."
Sergiyev Posad, Russia
1644
Emmeline stood before the crackling hearth and gazed at her lovers. Niklaus was all gold and bronze in the firelight, the planes of his lean chest and stomach highlighted to seem sharper, more muscular. He sat on the floor with his back against the chaise, his head tilted back and his mouth slightly open. Above and behind him on the chaise was Caroline with her long calves wrapped around his torso and her lips suckling his left ear.
Klaus' eyes tinged red with lust. He raised his arm and held out his hand in invitation. The Venetian hybrid stepped forward to take it.
His hands massaged her sides then pulled her sex to his mouth. She placed her thighs on either side of his face as he pleasured her, his tongue and lips matching Caroline's rhythm as she worked his earlobe and throat from behind.
Emmeline arced her back as his ministrations deepened. One of Caroline's hands came up to pinch her hardened nipple and she moaned lowly.
Then, without any warning, Klaus had picked her up and laid her flat on her back. He watched his wife curl beside her, stroking her breasts and pressing her sex into hers. Their tongues wound together.
Caroline bit down on her lower lip and rolled on top of the Venetian. Emmeline was face-up on the floor and their chests pressed together with Caroline's backside up. Klaus palmed it, then patted it – lightly at first, then harder. The blond's body shook with pleasure, and she rubbed herself into Emmeline.
"N-Nnnnik," she murmured.
"Who first?" he teased. "I think Em today."
Caroline shimmied up Emmeline's glistening body and rested on her stomach, allowing her husband access to the third hybrid's opening.
Klaus held himself firm and took his time entering her. Emmeline stretched and mewled from the dual sensations of Klaus and Caroline. He sank in deeply then pulled all the way out. He repeated this several times, but that changed when she clenched around him when he was completely embedded in her core. His eyes went pitch-black. His pace immediately quickened, his thrusts wilder.
Caroline put her entire mouth on Emmeline's earlobe and sucked and bit.
"Let go," she ordered.
And Emmeline did. Even as she still seized from the power of her orgasm, Klaus pulled out of her and plunged into his wife. She writhed, kissing Emmeline senselessly. Then he left her to ride out the last waves of Emmeline's orgasm.
Again, he was in Caroline, wet with all of their juices. He slid one thin finger into her backside and was rewarded with an animalistic growl. Caroline twisted them all around, with her on her side on the floor, Emmeline spooning her from behind, and Klaus penetrating her from the front. All three gyrated and groaned as one. Klaus' fangs slid down when he reached his climax. Caroline quickly followed, with Emmeline reaching around to massage her nub for enhanced pleasure.
Several minutes stretched out in silence as they lay wrapped around each other in postcoital bliss. The only sounds were their collective labored breathing and the crackling wood.
Finally, Emmeline spoke. "Do you think we'll ever make it to a bed again?"
"Oh, is it a bed you want?" drawled Klaus. Suddenly, he was on his feet, his manhood ready once more. He leant down and gathered Emmeline in his arms, cradling her to his chest.
"Come on, wife, let's bring her to bed."
South China Sea
1688
Gita had never imagined she'd be the quartermaster on a pirate ship, but the life of a vampire was full of surprises. She glared at the horizon from the wheel searching for a hint of land. If they didn't make port soon, the crew would perish.
A flash of yellow caught her eye from below. She watched as Rebekah maneuvered across the deck with an eyeglass in hand. The crew parted respectfully for their captain. They were Vietnamese, Korean, and Chinese, but Rebekah had always been a masterful linguist. She cried out orders in three languages and six dialects before joining her progeny at the wheel.
"If we head southeast, we may hit those islands we found last May," Gita said without feeling very hopeful.
Rebekah shrugged. "Those don't have much in the way of resources. We'd be better off raiding a merchant or navy ship."
"I'll change course anyway," said Gita. They hadn't seen another ship in weeks. It seemed unlikely they'd stumble across such providence.
"Whatever you want, Gi," Rebekah drawled. "I'll be in my cabin."
Gita nodded.
The Original found Rui sitting at the desk with his head buried in a book. Rui had been a nobleman on the mainland before joining her crew with a lust for both adventure and Rebekah. Though technically one of the gunners, he preferred to study the animals who lived within, above, and around the sea, and Rebekah compelled the crew to ignore what they considered a lack of work ethic. He'd been drawing a diagram of a giant squid but looked up when she entered.
"Still nothing?"
"No. Gita's getting worried," she said as she crossed to him and sat on his lap, toying with the neat black braid down his back.
He dropped his quill to unbutton her loose shirt. His callused fingers rubbed against her soft skin in a way that made her shudder. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder blade.
Rebekah kept her eyes on his as he untied her breeches and placed those callused fingers on her sex.
"And you?"
"There's no reason to be concerned," she huffed out.
"No, there never is," he murmured. His strokes intensified.
He paused before she came, pulling back to run his searing gaze along her flushed flesh, still half-dressed. He threw her up on the desk, lowered his breeches, and entered her with one swift movement. Her toes curled as she cried out, scraping her nails into his toned back and wrapped her arms around his neck. He clung to her thin form as he drove into her, their skin slapping and sliding.
For one wild moment, Rebekah imagined the hard body pounding into her was smaller, covered in sinewy muscle and black tattoos. A man whose soulful eyes were the color of ink, with hands who knew every sweet spot on her skin. The one who loved her, saw through her, and devoted himself to her. The only one she'd ever truly lost herself in. Her soul mate.
Like acid being poured down her throat, the violence of the volcanic eruption, the horror of thinking both her husband and best friend were dead, and her anger when she realized she had lost her true love forever all returned. It was too painful.
So, she did the only thing she was capable of these days: shutting down all thoughts of Pacari, thinking only of release and nothing else.
Her body shook compulsively, as if it had no other choice to escape the agony boiling within. She fed from his neck, extending the orgasm. In another age, she might have actually grown to care for Rui. Alas, it was not to be. He was like a drug for her; nothing but temporary amnesia…when she wasn't plagued by flashes of her dead husband.
The barrelman called down from the crow's nest: "Emperor's ship ahead!"
Relief filled her. The real distraction would begin.
Surprise bonus!
I wrote this scene for Parting Ways, but it didn't make the final cut for a number of reasons. I still really like it, so here you go. Enjoy!
Caroline found Elena in her room, packing for her flight back to Virginia that evening. She knocked on the open door and leaned against the jamb.
"Ready to face the music?" she teased.
Elena sighed. "Jenna is so pissed."
"Poor thing must be worried sick. Where's Bonnie?"
"Saying good-bye to Jeremy. He's trying to change her mind."
"How are you taking her decision?"
Elena stopped packing and sat down at the edge of her bed. "I'll miss her like hell and I'm going to hate school without her, but I have to respect her decision. I know it's where she's meant to be."
"That's very grown-up of you," Caroline said as she entered the room. "I just worry that ever since I arrived in Mystic Falls, your life has been an endless… battle."
Elena shrugged and tossed a hairbrush into her bag. "At least it's not boring. And you can't take all the credit for the drama in my life. I'm the Petrova doppelgänger. If you didn't find me first, someone else would have."
The blond couldn't disagree with that.
"I guess I can't convince you to come back to Mystic Falls?" Elena asked wistfully.
Caroline placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elena. I always planned on going back because I loved my life there, but my family needs me too much right now. If circumstances were different, I'd be right there with you at graduation."
"You'd be valedictorian," Elena said with a laugh before sobering. "I can't help feeling responsible about Elijah…"
Caroline shook her head. "None of that. The only people to blame are Esther and Mikael."
Elena nodded heavily, and Caroline squeezed her before removing her arm from her shoulder to pat her knee. This action brought her gold bracelet with pink stones to Elena's attention.
"Oh my god, that's gorgeous," she said, staring at it.
Caroline glanced down. "Thanks. I've had it for-"
"Centuries?"
A smile graced the blond's features, but her eyes were melancholy. "Guilty." She started to take it off. "Do you want to try it on?"
"Oh! Not if you …" She trailed off as Caroline hooked the piece around her wrist. It contrasted beautifully against her darker skin, but it was a little tight.
"You have such delicate wrists," she commented, making Caroline laugh.
"The man who gave it to me was obsessed with my wrists," she shared after a beat.
Elena gazed at the bracelet for another moment before unhooking the clasp and handing it back. She could tell Caroline was lost in her thoughts as she helped her hook it back onto the owner's wrist.
"What happened to him?" she asked quietly.
The blond took her time answering. "When I realized Saladin considered immortality a curse, I left him. He was bursting with enthusiasm and energy and a thirst for adventure. There were so many things he wanted to do and see in his short lifetime. If he were a vampire, all of that drive and passion would have faded away. Without the ticking clock, he would have lost his zeal for life, his ambition."
"So, you walked away?"
"Yes."
"Because you loved him."
"Yes. I wanted him to find fulfilment and it wouldn't have been with me."
"Then, you hadn't met Klaus yet?"
"Oh, no – I knew Nik. I first met him when I was a human, years before I turned," Caroline explained, her eyes full of memory. "You could say we had a drawn-out courtship."
Elena swallowed. "You must have had a lot of romances in 900 years."
Caroline grinned. "I've done alright."
"Were…were you ever in love with two people at the same time?"
The blond winced sympathetically. "Are you asking about Kol and Klaus in order to help you figure out your own brotherly debacle?"
Elena reddened. "Sorry – I didn't mean to pry-"
Caroline waved her off. "I'm not offended, Elena. I allowed myself to imagine it once – being with Kol. We had chemistry from day one. We made each other laugh, and the sex would have probably been amazing. He was already my best friend, so there'd have been a lot less fights than Nik and I had – and have. But something would have been missing if I had chosen Kol."
"What?"
"A challenge."
Elena collapsed back on her bed. "I have more than enough of those."
Caroline laughed.
"In the end, you have to decide for yourself which path is best. There were other factors, too. Kol would never have been as mature as Nik... I knew if I had chosen to be with him, there would always be an unspoken thing between myself and Nik – there was something fated about us from the very beginning. Deep down, I knew I was always meant to be with Niklaus. Starting something with Kol only to break his heart for his brother would have created a very sticky situation. Not that it mattered much…we still made a giant mess of things without ever having been in a relationship."
"I get that. I still love Stefan so much. I will always love him. But this thing with Damon… I can't ignore it anymore."
"Is this the part where you say you love Stefan, but you may not be in love with him?"
"I don't know. I can't imagine being friends with Stefan. I fell for him so hard and fast – we were never just friends. But I don't want him out of my life. I would never want that."
"Elena-," Caroline started.
"Is this the part where you tell me not to be like Katherine? Don't worry; I know I can't have them both," the brunette interrupted drily.
"That's not what I was going to say. I would never compare you to the wily Katerina, rest her soul. I was going to say that even if it isn't easy, you will eventually learn to be friends."
Elena zipped her suitcase closed and sighed. "They're both going to take the Cure. How much will that change things?"
"It changes everything, Elena. And also - nothing. You still have to make a choice."
"Easier said than done."
"You're seventeen – the choice does not have to be either of them. It's perfectly reasonable to take some time to yourself, enjoy being single for a while. You don't owe either of them anything. Except, you can't string them along."
"I know. I won't."
"Good. Now, if you're done packing, I'd like to show you something."
"What?"
"This castle is the place of my birth, childhood, and death. I have always kept some of my most prized possessions in the catacombs, where I know they will be safe. If you liked the bracelet, you're going to love what I have down there."
Elena smirked. "Are you bringing me to your creepy trophy case of family collectibles?"
"I was considering gifting you a couple of my treasures, but if you're going to have that attitude…"
"I didn't mean it!"
"That's what I thought."
It wasn't until much later that Elena realized Caroline hadn't answered her question about loving two people at the same time.
I guess some things will always be a mystery.
Thanks for reading! ~L
