Thanks to my lovely beta - klovec. Also, much love to the very encouraging Christina (To be loved is to be destroyed).
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Klaus strode through the marble halls of Hell's palace, paying no notice to the colorful flurry of servants and courtiers scattering in his wake with bows and curtseys. Trained monkeys, they knew better then to approach him without his royal permission. Even if Mikael refused to look on him with favor, they recognized the power Klaus possessed, the threat he would eventually be to his father's rule.
Passing by the throne room, he slowed, sparing a glance for the gemstone-encrusted throne at the center. It sparkled even with the candles in the crystal chandeliers unlit. Dark fire gleamed in the rubies, emeralds and diamonds, their power calling to him. Already he felt the weight of the crown on his head, the heavy gold scepter in his grip. Quiet rage simmered in him, the throne belonged to him, not his father. He only needed time and it would all be his, the throne, all of Hell at his feet and an Angel in his bedchambers.
He stalked away from the throne room, continuing down the hall. Reaching a set of large gold doors, he waited impatiently for the guards to do his bidding and open them.
"The Lady Rebekah has company, Your Highness," the thickset one with cropped, brown hair grunted.
"Are you telling me my dear sister has no wish to be visited by her brother?"
The soft-spoken threat from Klaus had the other guard, a much skinnier one with a bulbous nose, looking to his companion with horror.
"What? She said not to let anyone in," The dumber one of the two said with a shrug.
"I –I'm sure she didn't mean you, Your Highness." He punched the other guard in the shoulder, warning him. "She didn't mean him!"
Most likely she did and a slight smirk curled Klaus's lips. This seemed to terrify the two guards more than if he roared at them. They rushed to pull open the doors, not even bothering to knock.
Stepping into the dim candlelit chambers, he frowned. The remnants of a sumptuous feast for two sat uneaten on a small table along with several bottles of brimstone wine. A few lay empty on their sides with one upright and partially full. Clothing draped the furniture, an emerald silk gown on a chair, a corset on a settee and most damning of all a men's pair of trouser crumpled in front of a massive four-poster bed hung with white silk.
"I told you not to interrupt me, you fools!" Rebekah called out before grumpily burying her head back in her pillow.
"They're not. I am." Klaus stepped further into the room, pulling a pink satin dressing gown from the glossy, mahogany wardrobe against the wall.
"Go away, Nik. I'm busy."
"I would hardly call this being busy," he retorted, carrying the dressing gown to the side of the bed. He held it out for her, shaking the shoulders of it to emphasize his need for her to hurry along. "Get up, Rebekah."
She sat up in bed, her long blonde hair spilling down her back. "Whatever you want, I'm not interested. I have plans for the day."
The gentleman in bed next to her poked his head out from the pile of pillows. "Your Highness - this…this isn't what it looks like. Rebekah, I really think —"
"Don't think," Klaus snapped at him, trying to avoid looking directly at the naked man in bed with his sister. "That isn't what she wants you for. And this is exactly what I think it is."
"Don't be mean. Harrison has a brilliant mind and he is a great conversationalist."
Klaus shook the dressing gown at her again. "How could you possibly know? Have you even known each other longer than a day or two?"
She set her mouth to a petulant shape.
"I should go." Rebekah's paramour sat up in bed, the sheet slipping to reveal a muscular chest.
"We weren't quite finished, were we?" She purred.
Irritation swelled in Klaus, pushing at the anger always present within. Deliberately provoking him, Rebekah knew she could play him because he wanted something from her. In any other situation he would have punished her disrespect by ripping out this idiot's throat. To keep from lashing out at her, he grinned wide, flashing his teeth, at her and her stupid conquest.
"I really don't think I should be here," Harrison said more to himself then to anyone else in the room. Nervous sweat glistened on his brow and he started to climb out of the bed, stopping when his gaze found his pants. Crumpled right at Klaus's feet.
"You were right," Klaus acknowledged with sarcasm. "He does have a brilliant mind. He knows when he isn't wanted."
Rebekah scowled. "What do you want?"
"Get dressed. I need your witchy magic."
"I am not a tool of yours to be used whenever you can't solve a problem through violence.
"If you don't put this robe on in the next ten seconds, I will tell Mikael about your little tryst with Harrison."
At the mention of Mikael, Rebekah's current plaything pulled the sheets around his waist, scurrying from the bed. "You told me he didn't care anymore who you were with."
Rebekah paled, yet she stood up, smoothing her white negligee over her thighs before jamming her hands in the sleeves of her robe. "You go too far."
"Not far enough," Klaus replied grimly. "If you cared for Harrison at all you should never have brought him here.
The gentleman in question stared longingly at the doors leading out of Rebekah's chambers. "Can I go, Rebekah?"
"I would if I were you," Klaus answered for her with a careless nonchalance that left Harrison shaking in the white linen sheet. "And it is Lady Rebekah to you."
"Lady Rebekah?" her lover asked, a request for permission.
Beyond bored with the stupid Harrison, Klaus waved at him to leave, laughing when the man stumbled over the sheets dragging behind him on his way to the doors. Pounding on them, Rebekah's lover slipped through them the second they cracked open.
She looked to Klaus, her eyes large and fearful. "He hasn't touched one of my lovers in years."
"That doesn't mean he won't, Bekah. He's been too busy with his other schemes and plans to think of you right now, but as soon as he needs an alliance with one of the demon families, he won't hesitate to use you."
"I know."
Her voice, so sad and hollow tugged a little at Klaus's heart and he steeled it. Moving towards the chair, he swept her dress to the floor and sat down. "Aren't you going to ask me what I need of you?"
"What does it matter? I 'm not about to help you."
"Don't toy with me. I'm not in the mood."
She didn't heed his warning. Slinking towards him, Rebekah tossed her hair back and glared at him. "Maybe I'm not in the mood either."
"Get in the mood, fast."
"Why should I? What have you ever done for me?"
"Don't start that now," Klaus growled.
"Why not? Where were you when father murdered Matthew? The only man I ever loved. And then when all the others followed. Why didn't you do something?"
Tears of frustration filled her eyes, slipping down her cheeks.
"What would you have had me do? Would you rather Mikael killed me?" Klaus retorted, his anger hitting him fast and hard. "Because I have no doubt he would have if I interfered. Think about it. He murdered our own mother in front of us. What is to stop him from taking my life too."
"He wouldn't have dared. You are his heir."
"It was Matt or I. Trust me on this. He only needed a reason and my interfering would have given him one, a very public one." Klaus forcefully caught her gaze, daring her to tell him the truth, give him the ammunition he needed. "Which of us would you have preferred be with you now? Your doting brother or your lover?"
He waited, not breathing, his fury escalating by the moment when she remained silent.
Rebekah fell to her knees in from of him, her hair curtaining her face. "Nik, don't do this."
"Then help me."
She sighed, a sound of suffering and pain that aroused in him a twinge of guilt at how easily he manipulated her. Only, he had no choice. Not with his Angel at stake.
"Fine. I will help you."
Klaus smiled, his anger dissipating at her answer. Pleased, he stroked her hair back from her face. "I won't let Mikael find out about Harrison. Only be more careful in the future. Don't let your guards know you have company. Sneak him in. Dressed as a woman if need be."
"You know, he does have the shapeliest legs. He might actually look good in a gown," she giggled at the idea.
His smiled wider at her laughter. "Probably better than you, dear sister."
She pouted at him, slapping his knee with pretend annoyance. "Tell me what it is you are so desperate for?"
"There is an angel. I need to trap it and keep it here. "
Rebekah's mouth fell open and she struggled to speak for a moment. "It has never been done before."
"That doesn't mean it can't," Klaus pointed out.
"True, but it would take very strong demon magic to pull off such a stunt."
"There is mother's Grimoire. There must be something in there you can use."
Her eyes glazed over, deep in thought, the wheels turning. "An Angel can be called using their name."
"I don't know her name," Klaus replied roughly.
Rebekah's gaze snapped to his and she stared fixedly at him, calculating.
He swallowed dryly under her scrutiny, hardening his features to give nothing away.
"Her?"
"Yes," he ground out.
"This Angel. What do you want with her?"
"She is stealing my souls and I want her stopped." Even as he said it, he knew Rebekah would never buy it. His sister knew him too well.
She rose from the floor. Walking over to the dining table Rebekah took one of the empty glasses and poured the remainder of the brimstone wine into it. She took a fortifying sip before speaking up, "What does this Angel mean to you?"
"The question is more - what do you think Mikael would do if he found out I was losing souls already damned for Hell."
"No, it's not." She took another drink. "If that was the case you would ask for a spell to kill her."
"You can't kill an Angel."
"Father found a way to kill mother and she, like us, is descended from the Original Fallen Angel."
Damn his sister's magical knowledge and logic. Why couldn't she be more pliable? Take the bait he laid out for her?
Rebekah walked towards him, her goblet held elegantly between two fingers. "No, brother. The question once again is what does she mean to you?"
"Does it matter?" He snarled at her taunt.
A cunning smile snuck across her face. "Yes. It matters very much to me."
"She means nothing to me but an opportunity to teach Heaven a lesson. They can't go around stealing what doesn't belong to them," he answered through a clenched jaw.
"Is she pretty?"
He wanted to strangle that playful, manipulative look right off her face. Damn her, she knew and still she teased him.
"Yes." His answer came far to quick and he shrugged, tried again. "She is pretty enough in a way. If you like innocents afraid of their own shadows." Talking about his golden Angel, thinking about her and her light, how it tantalized his dark nature, sent his lust spiraling.
"I don't know, Nik. I can't condone the corruption of such holy angelic innocence by bringing her here. Unless you can give me a good reason?"
Her question hung in the air, her sweet words challenging him.
Klaus fought back his anger, his rage at her ridiculous game. She already knew the answer. "I. Want. Her." He bit out every word, each syllable dragged kicking and screaming from his throat.
"Now was that so bad, Nik?" Pleased, she flashed a triumphant smile, patting him on his shoulder. "Don't you feel better?"
"Bekah," he warned.
She held up her hand, clearly done. "To trap an Angel I would think you would need to have something that belonged to her, something that we could bind the magic with."
"Done," Klaus answered, a little to eagerly from the way her eyes appeared to be dancing with mirth.
"Wait. That isn't all. The most powerful thing an Angel carries is their name. Given to them at their birth, it can be used to call upon them to carry prayers to heaven, to God's own ear. You will need that."
Violent urges thrashed through Klaus. He wanted to throw the chair he sat on into the wall, smash the dishes on the table and set fire to the whole room.
"You don't have her name, do you?"
Her voice while sympathetic, grated on him.
"I will get it."
"It will be difficult. It is not something Angels give out lightly. There is no way to identify them. We don't even know what the most powerful ones look like."
"Except Elijah."
Rebekah's face fell and she swallowed the last of her brimstone wine. "Yes, Elijah."
"I will go to him."
"You know where he is?" She looked at him, trying to hide her eagerness at knowing her traitorous brother's location.
"Switzerland. At least part of the time."
Like he, she laughed, finding humor in where their brother would chose to hide. "He will never betray her. Not one of his own."
"No, he will betray his flesh and blood, leave them behind with a sadistic monster who is capable of murdering his and their mother."
She sobered, her mouth drooping. "Yes."
Klaus templed his fingers under his chin. "All I need is a way for him to come to me, give him a threat that will cause him to be careless and use her name."
"You have a plan?"
"Don't I always?"
Rebekah smiled at him. "I will need the item of the Angel's you have to tie her to the magic."
"Of course," he returned her smile, hiding his reluctance to hand over the precious, gold hair. His hand drifted to his chest, over the inner pocket where it lay. She didn't really need it now did she? "I will get it to you later."
"Really, Nik?" She rolled her eyes. "I know you have it on you."
"Fine." His sharp tone did him no favors, she was entirely too amused.
Thrusting his hand into the inside pocket of his coat, he pulled out the silk pouch that housed the single hair. Standing up, he put it in Rebekah's palm, closing her fingers over it. "In case the spell fails, don't lose it. We may need it to try again."
"This isn't my first time at binding magic," she huffed. Carefully, she uncurled her fingers from around the pouch and opened it. Reaching inside she pulled out the hair.
It glinted and sparkled gold even in the dimness of her chambers and he wanted to rip it from his sister's grasp and put it back in his pocket safe once more.
"It's very pretty." The corner of her mouth tilted up. "If you like that sort of color. Personally, I always thought you were partial to brown hair."
Klaus grimaced, knew she was referring to his first conquest, the silly succubus Tatia. "It seems my tastes have changed."
"For the better." Rebekah replaced the hair in the pouch and walked over to the bookshelves that held the Grimoire and her spell books. "How soon do you need the trap?"
"I want it ready to go as soon as I know her name."
"That fast?" She raised an inquiring eyebrow. "You don't waste time."
"Just get it ready," he answered icily, giving her a forbidding stare to stop her teasing and questions. "I will let you know when I have her name."
"Fine." She shooed at him with her hands. "Now go, so I can get to work."
Triumphant, with his plan set in place, he took his leave.
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Thunder cracked the sky open and raindrops splattered from the clouds on to the asphalt highway. Standing by the side of the road, Caroline tried not to breathe in the exhaust from the vehicles whizzing by. She dreaded the accident about to happen, her anxiety ratcheting higher with every car that passed. More rain fell, the roads now slick with moisture becoming a driving hazard. One that Timothy Rasmussen never saw or expected.
It happened so fast. Brakes screeched. Rubber tires skidded and a dirty blue compact car slid into a lane of oncoming traffic. The semi-truck driver swerved, but not fast enough. Metal ripped and tore into metal and Caroline flinched at the assault. Everything slowed, quieted and the world held it's collective breath in horror, only to erupt with chaos a second later. Horns honked, vehicles jolted to a standstill, car doors opened and people rushed towards the accident.
Caroline gingerly picked her way through the crowd and zigzag of vehicles. Inside the car, a middle-aged, balding man lay slumped over the steering wheel. The bottom half of his body, crumpled like a tissue, left him incapable of any movement. Bleeding internally with his spinal cord heavily damaged, it would be a blessedly quick death.
Bystanders worked to reach him, yanking on the doors of the car and Caroline slipped past them to sit in the front seat next to Timothy. He couldn't turn his head to look at her, but he opened his eyes, sensed her presence.
"So you do exist." His lips folded into a pained smile.
"Of course."
"You're not a hallucination?"
"No, Timothy. I really am here."
At hearing his name, tears flooded the corners of his eyes, running down his chin to hit the steering wheel. "I always wondered. Dreaded what the truth would be."
Caroline brushed away the glass that clung to his face and hair with gentle fingers. "Why?"
"I did something bad. Something I can't fix and from what I learned as a boy in church I know what is coming. I don't want to go there – to hell."
"I don't want you to go there either." Caroline shivered, remembering the evil she glimpsed the other day in Alyona's apartment. The way it tempted and corrupted, using her greatest sins and desires against her. If that was a taste of hell, she wished no one to suffer that fate. "I'm here to try and bring you home. To heaven."
"Funny, I should go like this." His words slurred, his eyelids fluttering closed. He started to pray silently, a prayer for forgiveness and absolution.
The car window of the driver's side door smashed in and Caroline nearly jolted out of her seat. Glass shattered, spraying her with shards that if she were human would have left bloody cuts. A huge muscled man in a flannel shirt hacked at the door with a tire iron. They were trying to rescue Timothy, not realizing that he was no more.
Caroline took a deep breath, trying to ignore the commotion around her. She needed to focus if she had any chance at doing her job. Gazing into the dead man next to her, she cut through bone and muscle to peer at the soul hidden in his heart. Easy to find, only one big black mark marred the surface. So few sins, except for the worst of them all. Murder. He once lived a life of wealth and distinction with a job on Wall Street. Until the night, in a hit and run accident, he took the life of a homeless woman. While he never confessed his crime to the police, he lived his own form of punishment. With regret and guilt he walked away from his job, giving everything away for a position at a homeless shelter far away from the life he once knew.
Little vibrations floated on the wind around Caroline, the faint rhythmic beating of a drum and she froze, her veins icing over. A curl of smoke wafted through the car window, a devil from Hell was near. She wouldn't let them have this soul. Timothy worked so hard on his repentance he deserved hope and healing, a second chance. Trying to be gentle she pulled the soul from within his chest. She cupped it in her hands and moving out of the car, she fed it her warmth and light, trying to wash away the black mark.
The rain stopped, the sunlight peeking out from the clouds, but the sin remained on the soul. Caroline's powers, something blocked them from fully manifesting. She tried again to reach her inner light, ignore her growing unease. Long shadows crept towards her, the darkness encroaching and desperation took ahold of her. She clutched the soul tighter, attempting to protect it from the coming storm.
Evil shimmered in the air, circled her, veiling her in black silk. It slid tantalizingly over the bare skin above her gown and down her shoulders, teasing her with its sumptuous luxury. Draped in death's shroud, she fell into a dream. Covered in rubies, she drank wine from a gold goblet, danced in a slip of a scarlet gown until exhausted she fell in a bower of roses as red as blood. The soft petals caressed her hot fevered skin, their delicate touches arousing within her frantic need, a yearning desire for something she didn't understand. She writhed with pleasure, her flesh tingling, her hands fisting the roses, not even crying out when the thorns cut into her.
The sun disappeared, tinting everything in gray and sepia and a form started to build from mist right in front of her. It could only be Hell's spawn. The Devil, it was almost here. Panic jabbed at her insides, ripping her from the influence of the strange spell. Gasping, she fought to breathe, ignore the sensations still prickling through her. Her pulse thundered, her limbs quaking. She couldn't be caught. What she did, it wasn't sanctioned. She should flee and leave the soul. Only she couldn't fail Timothy, have him burn for eternity.
Reaching deep inside herself, she gathered all her strength, all of her light. She pictured the sun, how it beamed to the earth, nourishing all living things. Flowers bloomed, plants touched the skies, children basked in the warmth, forcing out the cold. She took all of this, surrounding her blessing with it. Spinning it into a ball, she stoked the fire within, until the heat started to singe her. Then with all her power she flung it at the darkness.
"Get back, Devil! You shall not have this soul!" Caroline shouted.
Bright light flashed directly in Klaus's eyes, so white and blinding he stumbled back on his feet. With a growl of fury, he furled his wings protectively around his body, cloaking himself in darkness. Rays of rainbow light pulsed around him, attempting to penetrate his shields. They swirled around him, seeking entrance into his heart, his very soul. He brushed them off and they withered into puffs of smoke at his touch. Within seconds the light fizzled to nothing and he advanced on the Angel that dared attack a Devil, the Prince of Darkness.
She faced him with defiance, brightness still sparking from her fingertips. Klaus knew she couldn't see him, saw only shadows and haze and the lack of fear in her eyes surprised him. She was magnificent in her strength, the fire that burned in her gaze. He hardened, his lust for her consuming every inch of him. That slip of a gown she wore, he wanted to rip it from her shoulders, force himself against her soft curves, run his hands down her back. He ached, yearned for release that could only be slaked with her. Never had he known true want, until her.
Klaus cursed that he couldn't abduct her right now. Only things weren't nearly ready in Hell for her. Preparations still needed to be made to imprison her and keep her safe. Now that he knew the power she carried within, he needed to be even more careful. For she would fight him, maybe even try to kill him and this filled him with delight.
She cuddled the soul near her chest, speaking softly and at first he thought she addressed him. Anticipation beat in his chest and he tried to make out what she said. Could she see him? Did she know his desire for her? Realizing she prayed, disgust drove out any tender feelings he might have had towards her. Now silent, she glowed with the brightness of a falling star, washing the black streak from the soul. Snowy white- the Angel did it again. Purified and stole a soul meant for him.
He stalked to her, his anger and desire for her mingling into a dangerous combination. What would happen if he touched the soul, touched her? Coming closer, she appeared paper white, all color rinsed from her flesh. While she still glowed, her light flickered, a candle battened by the wind. He smirked, taking pleasure in her weakness. Towering over her small frame, he inhaled deeply of her sweet scent.
"Go away. You have lost. The soul is mine." Her voice, it rang with the false bravery of a frightened child. She feared him and with sadistic affection, he yearned to touch her, press his lips to hers.
Klaus stepped even closer to her, so close he could see her pulse frantically quivering in the thin veins in her neck. She was so pale now, her skin almost transparent and he swallowed thickly at the desire raging through his body. He wouldn't fight temptation anymore. His fingers reached out to caress her cheek, to feel the satin of her skin. Before he could touch her, she reared back from him, her wings unfurling to the sky.
Bursting into flight, a single feather fell from her wings, lighting up the sky as it gently glided down towards him. He captured it in his hand, fascinated by the pristine white fluff, her haunting fragrance that lingered.
"Soon." Klaus murmured before he dived straight down to hell, more determined than ever in his pursuit.
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Thanks and love to everyone that nominated me for the Klaroline awards on tumblr. It was completely unexpected. There are so many wonderful stories and authors nominated this year I am honored to be a part of it. If you have time go and vote for your favorites.