Thanks to klovec for the beta.
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Klaus flew into the dying man's small kitchen, the dingy, linoleum flooring creaking under his footsteps. The walls, painted a sunny yellow once cheerful, now matched the grime and dirt streaked appliances. With the garbage can mounded over with empty microwave meal boxes it was apparent the kitchen hadn't been properly cooked in or cleaned for a long time.
He moved through the house, the scent of blood roses assaulting his nostrils. A trail of velvet petals, droplets of dark red led to the small sitting room. Blood roses were everywhere. Bouquets in crystal vases on every surface, against the walls of the room, the floor strewn with crimson. They painted the room in varying shades of red. Their rich perfume swallowed the stale air, creating a majestic garden to tempt his Angel.
Soft moans drifted over from the reclining chair in the center of the room where Henry Pickering lay. He should be near death now. Would have died over an hour ago if he hadn't been forced fed his heart attack medicine by one of Klaus's minions. Henry needed to be kept alive long enough to set the plan in action. Petals crushed under the soles of Klaus's shoes as he made his way to the dying man's side. It wouldn't be long before the pills wore off and the Angel made her appearance.
He shoved his hand deep into the man's heart, yanking out his soul. The body twitched and convulsed at the precious loss, the man groaning deep in his throat. Klaus studied the gray mass, reading the sins and misdeeds. At first he saw nothing other then the rejection of all religious beliefs. Then it became clear, Henry converted to atheism with the murder of his wife years ago in a neighborhood robbery gone bad. Instead of accepting God's will and trusting the justice system, he murdered the teenage burglar responsible. A sympathetic jury gave Henry little jail time and once free he lived a solitary life of misery.
Klaus smirked with satisfaction at his choice of soul. She would have a tough time with this one. It would be almost impossible to purify. Henry had no regrets or even belief in God or His Angels.
"What's happening to me," Henry croaked out.
"You're dying," Klaus answered coolly. "Your heart is slowing, your blood sticking in your veins and you are finding it harder to breathe."
Henry didn't even argue, accepting the words as truth he complied, his body extinguishing his life. Not long for the world now, Klaus waited impatiently. His anticipation climbed higher and higher, his body hardening eagerly. He would soon get another glimpse of his Angel.
The flutter of wings drifted from a distance and he grinned. The soul called to her. He fought the urge to steal it, the temptation to take it strong within him. Only his desire to spend more time in her presence, watching her in action kept him from removing it. The power she unknowingly had over him, that he should fight fair over a soul surprised and frustrated him. His only appeasement came in thinking how he would punish her in the days to come for this. Klaus would make her pay for the obsession she ignited in him. Pay with her lush body, soft lips and pleasurable kisses. He would use her, sate his lust with her beauty, until her purity and light no longer held him in thrall.
So close now he could feel the vibrations of her wings, Klaus flung the soul back into Henry's chest and crept to the corner of the room, hiding in the shadows.
The Angel crept into the room. The pristine white hem of her gown catching on the vibrant, crimson petals littering the floor like blood upon snow. She lifted her head warily, her breath coming quick. Her eyes large in her face, the hunted sought the hunter in a deadly dance. A vision of golden hair, creamy skin and brilliant eyes, Klaus once again found himself in awe of her beauty. His desire to touch her, speak to her, crashed into him, swept him along in violent waves. His control, a fine thread pulled taut, threatened to break.
Fear coursed through Caroline, tight in its clutches, she sought to breathe. Her vision from the other day, the roses from the bower, they were here in this room. Unlike any floral plant she ever witnessed before, almost grotesque in their beauty, they seemed to live and breathe, shadowing her in red darkness. Their fragrance haunted her, thick and rich, notes of ripe fruit and myrrh. The blooms, weapons of sin and temptation, wove her into dreams she couldn't escape.
A shadow flickered in the corner of the room, growing, forming into the height of a full-grown man. She couldn't see anything but blackness within him and when he stepped from the corner to hover near her, Caroline's heart leapt into her throat. Trapped in a cage of deadly roses, every instinct she possessed cried for her to flee.
Small moans floated to her ears from the center of the room. Henry Pickering waited for her. She wanted to help him and bring his soul home, but a Devil lay in wait. She didn't know if she could muster the energy to fight his evil, their last battle left her weak and drained for a whole day. Something she barely managed to hide from Elena and Elijah. She couldn't let them see her so frail, how strong this Devil was.
"Help me," Henry cried softly.
Caroline shivered, fighting her terror so she could give him the chance he deserved. Ignoring the abyss of black in the room, she stepped forward to Henry. His skin, lined and thin, gray paper soaked in sweat, spoke of a long, unhappy life. His limp brown eyes, cloudy with cataracts, peered blearily at her.
"Who are you?"
"I'm an angel sent to deliver you to the Lord," Caroline replied, pinning on a brave smile even with the shadow skulking ever nearer to her.
"No, such thing as God and angels."
"Then how is it you can see me?" Caroline moved to settle her hand over his.
"I'm hallucinating."
Caroline shook her head. "No, I'm real. I will prove it to you."
With haste, she slipped her hands into Henry's heart. The soul came out easy, far to easy for someone who claimed not to see an angel. It had been removed recently. Why hadn't the Devil taken it? It hovered over the dying man's chest the color of ash. Glancing over the sins, Henry's life, Caroline bit her lip. This was going to be a hard case. Which further confused her. Why didn't that evil thing here with her just take it and fly back to Hell?
Henry's head fell to the side, and Caroline light touched his cheek to revive him.
"Please, you don't have much time. Acknowledge my presence and accept God at work before it's too late.
Drool gathered in the corner of the man's mouth, but somehow he managed to gasp out, "Who are you?" His eyes widened, his muscles spasmed and his hand fell over the side of his chair to dangle as he passed.
Caroline lost him. She failed to save him. Devastated she fell to the floor, kneeling by Henry's side and slipped his soul back into his body for the Devil to collect. Who knew what horrors awaited this poor man. Tears slipped from her eyes, first one and than another until they rained down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, before standing up. Taking Henry's hand in hers she placed it across his stomach to join his other one.
She could no longer ignore the evil in the room. The Devil, it stood right behind her now, its eyes boring into her back. Heat radiated from where it focused its gaze on her, a searing flame, like standing in front of a roaring fire. Only her insides had turned to ice.
Caroline trembled, her hands shaking, cold terror licking at her insides. The evil, it wanted something from her. A hand ghosted through her hair, pulling aside her veil of curls. Hot breath scorched the tender skin of the curve of her neck and she started to slip, falling, falling fast.
Tangled in black satin sheets, Caroline writhed, panted while a hand slid over her form, leisurely taking its time, moving lower and lower, leaving a path of hot and cold chills in its wake. It reached her between her legs, touched her core, teasing, sending quakes of lightening racing through her blood. Kisses brutalized her lips, heat pressed against her, warming her bare, cool skin.
Her legs fell open, her hips rising and falling. So hot and feverish, she needed something she couldn't comprehend.
A hint of heat, a burning touch to her neck. Eyes open, she burst from her dream world. The monster dared to touch her skin and darken her purity. Flung from her waking dream, she turned on her heel to face the thing behind her.
"Be gone, Devil!"
The evil thing didn't answer, it chuckled and the sinister sound horrified her. From the darkness an arm formed from the mist, a wrist, then a hand. Held between long fingers, one of those dreadful roses. Larger than the others, blood red, the edges smudged in a darker hue, the petals velvety soft, it begged to be touched and held. Caroline yearned for it, to touch such decadent beauty. To inhale the sweet, heady perfume. Mesmerized she took it in her hand.
The Devil shifted, giving her a glimpse at something almost human like - blondish curly hair, piercing blue eyes and a muscular chest and shoulders. It leaned in and paralyzed, Caroline stood perfectly still, afraid to even move. Its mouth hovered over her ear, so very close, she didn't dare to even breathe.
"Soon," he rasped.
One simple word and she shattered. With a sob, a violent shudder wracked her and she flew as fast as she could to Elijah. To the safety only he could provide, the rose gripped tight in her hand.
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Caroline didn't even pause to breathe in the fresh air or take in the natural beauty of the Swiss countryside outside Elijah's cottage before she pounded on his door. He answered, a look of surprise on his face at seeing her. Without even thinking, she flung herself at him, her head settling against his shoulder. Instead of wrapping his arms around her to comfort her, he tensed, his muscles stiffening against her. His cold reaction brought her to her senses, reminding her how distasteful it was for him to touch her. Biting her lip to keep from crying, she lifted her chin, fully determined to compose herself and move far away from him. Only to her shock, with a short jerky motion, his arms settled around her, his hand gentle on the middle of her back.
"Shhh." Elijah held her close for only a second before withdrawing to look down at her with a completely shaken expression on his face. One that he quickly masked. "Caroline, you need to come inside. We can't talk out here."
The urgency with which he pulled away embarrassed her. Would she ever learn and become a true Angel? She threw herself on him, forced him to embrace her. All because of her terror and ridiculous need for warmth and affection. Fully determined to pretend that she hadn't behaved so disgracefully, she entered the cottage. Chilled to the bone, she stood in front of the fireplace, shivering with fear from her experience with the Devil only moments ago.
Elijah closed the door. His footsteps reverberating on the wood floor, he stopped behind her. The heat of from the roaring fire flickered over her cold skin, but she couldn't get warm. Not even when a something very warm and soft was draped around her shoulders.
"What happened? Talk to me."
He spoke so gently, it reminded her of a parent coaxing a small child afraid of the dark to be brave. How could she even begin to tell him what she experienced moments ago? She trembled, reaching out to tuck the blanket he placed on her shoulders closer. It was then she noticed it. The monstrous rose still clenched in her fist. How could she have forgotten? The heat from the fire intensified the bloom's fragrance, clouding the air with its perfume. Lush and intoxicating, it taunted her, reminded her of everything she wanted to forget. The Devil's whispered word, his breath scorching her skin, the vision of the sins of the flesh.
"Caroline….do you smell that? It almost reminds me of – but that can't be right."
There was a panicked quality to Elijah's tone, a hitch in his throat when he spoke and dread fluttered in her chest. She didn't want to show him, didn't want him to know such evil. Still, she slowly turned around from the fireplace to face him.
Elijah's gaze went from her face, moving downwards to stare at the rose. He said nothing, remaining silent even as the blood drained from his face, leaving his cheeks nearly white. His silence terrified her. He knew. Understood the power of such a loathsome, beautiful thing.
"Where — where did you get that?" he managed to stutter out at last.
"It was given to me." Caroline held it out to him, not wishing to hold the sinful thing one moment longer.
"By who?" He asked harshly.
"I don't who he is. Other than he is one of the Devils sent to collect souls."
"It has been centuries since I saw one of these." Elijah took the rose from her gingerly. Holding it to his nostrils, his brown eyes sharpened. "This isn't from just any Devil. These roses, they are owned and bred exclusively by the family of the Original Fallen Angel.
"The Original?" Weak in the knees, Caroline moved towards the nearest chair, collapsing. She had been holding something associated with such sinful evil, a family so steeped in wickedness they killed their own to rule over the damned. "You know this family? "
Elijah hesitated to answer, slipping into the chair next to her. "I have had some dealings with them and the roses are actually called Blood Roses. They are bred in Hell with magic and belong strictly to the Royal Family." He leaned forward in his seat, his gaze penetrating. "Tell me everything that happened today."
"I went to try and save the soul, but when I got there – he was there." Caroline took a deep breath, an attempt at control. "In the beginning the Devil that did soul collection was always late and I always escaped before seeing him. It was so simple. Then something changed. I don't know what, but now everything is different."
"How is it different?"
"He comes close to me, near enough to touch me and he makes me think things that aren't my thoughts." Caroline's eyelids fluttered, another shiver taking hold of her. "He wants something from me and it isn't only the soul I am there for…and today I think he touched me, and when I went to leave he gave me this rose."
Elijah gripped the stem of the rose tighter in his fist. "He touched you?"
"I don't know…I think so? When he is close, I can't seem to think."
"It is a skill of the Original family. The ability to cloud thoughts, send waking dreams," he spoke softly, only there was a hidden undercurrent to his tone that disconcerted her. "What did you dream, Caroline?"
She jerked her head up to find him watching at her, his chiseled jaw set sternly.
"I couldn't make much sense of it. Roses and dancing and chocolate." It wasn't a total lie, only from the way he continued to look at her, he must know, must guess at the truth.
Elijah exhaled deeply. "This Devil is a very powerful member of the Original Family. The news of your work with souls must have reached the ear of the King and he has sent one of his own to deal with you."
"One of his own?"
"He has four sons and one of them is playing a very dangerous game with you. Has he said anything to you? Threatened you in anyway?"
Caroline swallowed, her hand drifting to her chest where her heart threatened to pound right out of her ribcage. "Soon. He said, 'soon'."
The Blood Rose snapped in two. "What did he look like?"
"I don't know," Caroline replied, taken aback by Elijah's quiet fury. "I never really got a look. He always appeared in a mist. I think I saw his eyes once, but I'm not sure."
"A trick," he scoffed in disgust. "Something every Original Family member learns to do as a child. That tells me nothing about which son it is." Rising to his feet, he moved to the fireplace deep in thought.
Seconds turned to minutes and Caroline curled the hand that once held the Blood Rose into the folds of her gown. She could still feel it tight in her hand, like she never let it go.
"They are worried," Elijah mused. "Mikael never would have sent one of his sons if he wasn't. This is good for our mission. We are doing good work, Caroline. We just need to stay the course.
"I don't think I can do it anymore. This Devil, he wishes to destroy me. His evil intent…I can sense it whenever he is near."
Elijah tossed the two halves of the Blood Rose into the crackling fire and the luxurious scent perfumed the room. He turned abruptly to face her. "I will not let him hurt you."
The fiercely penetrating way he looked at her, the glint of what almost looked like gold leaping in his dark pupils, it scared her. Never before had her friend appeared to her this way. There was a dangerous predatory air about him that made her want to flee back to the safety of heaven.
"Believe me, Caroline. I will take care of this. You will no longer have anything to fear."
"How can you say that? What can you possibly do?"
"I still have contacts in Hell."
Her mouth fell open. "Even now? With all of your holy work?"
"It is even more important than ever that I stay current with the affairs of the King and his court. You understand this, don't you?"
"Elijah —"
"I will make sure this Devil no longer bothers you."
Caroline believed him. If ever anyone looked like an avenging Angel it was Elijah in this very moment. That he would have dealings with Hell for her, it amazed and worried her all at once.
"You will be safe?"
"I will. They cannot touch me. Not anymore," he reassured her. "I have the weight of Heaven at my back."
She wasn't satisfied. For some reason, she suspected there were things he wasn't telling her. Maybe not lies, just omissions and it disturbed her. It must have shown because he moved closer to her.
"What I do, I have good reason for. I do not take lightly my mission or yours. We are needed to do God's work here. You have to trust me in this." Elijah looked at her with expectation, wanting her to agree with him.
How could she refuse him? He did need her, the light she carried. These poor souls did too. No one deserved to burn in Hell's fire. "I do trust you."
His mouth curved into the semblance of a smile, before disappearing under the weight of his somber gaze. "Good. We will continue with our plans."
"The next soul?" She asked, trying to keep her weariness out of her voice.
"Eliza Cantrell in London. She will not fight you. She prays daily for redemption and death."
Finally an easy collection. It was about time. She had so little strength left. Caroline rose to her feet. "Please be careful. I worry that this monster will not follow Heaven's rules and hurt you."
"It's the other way around. This Devil should worry I will disobey my Holy Orders and hurt him."
The threat, the menace burning off of him – at last - she caught a glimpse of who he once was.
"I should go." Anxious at this change in him, she folded her hands together in front of her, clenching her fingers together as if in prayer
Elijah bowed slightly, courteous as ever. "Forget what happened today. Think only of how you can use your gift.
"I will do that."
With a flutter of her wings, she left him, rattled enough she forgot the pretense of leaving through his door like she normally did.
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Klaus didn't bother with manners or niceties, the civilized etiquette that Elijah considered important when he forced himself into his brother's inner sanctum. When hunting, he always found a surprise attack to be extremely effective in getting the upper hand and this was no different. His targeted prey, bolted upright from his desk chair, dropping his pen at Klaus's appearance.
"Niklaus?"
"Hello, brother," Klaus drawled, relishing the shock his sudden appearance had on Elijah.
"I didn't expect you so soon." Rattled, Elijah covered it up by smoothing the front of his dark gray suit coat, buttoning it.
Moving about the room, Klaus surveyed his brother's cottage. It reminded him strongly of Elijah's chambers in Hell. The neatly organized books, the stone tablets and roles of papyrus on the bookshelves. The inviting leather chairs in front of the brick fireplace and the tea table laid out for two. So, his brother still fancied and played at being human with that ridiculous teatime ritual.
"How could I not come running as soon as I received a summons? A message from God's chosen one can't be ignored. Especially, after all these centuries."
Elijah flinched at the sharp barb. "I should have contacted you earlier, but you must understand my position."
"Ah. Yes, your Holy position," Klaus countered. "The one that kept you from even leaving a note for your nearest and dearest when you left."
"It was for the best," Elijah replied, no apology in his voice, only a righteous conviction that made Klaus want to fly at him, punching. His clenched his fists and that was when he remembered the bottle of brimstone wine he carried.
"Of course, when God calls, nothing must stand in the way. Certainly not your younger siblings or your mother."
Elijah moved out from behind his desk. "You can't possibly understand my reasoning and I'm not about to explain it to you. With time maybe you will understand why I did what I did."
That his brother would stand there, a sanctimonious prig, his lips pressed tightly together as if he was in the right – it lit a fire under Klaus's simmering rage, bringing it to a full boil. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself, managing to answer in a tightly controlled manner, "If I haven't understood yet, I doubt I ever will. To me you will always be a traitor to your lineage and your family."
Bristling at the condemnation, Elijah looked as if he wanted argue, he opened his mouth, only to close it and shake his head. "You know nothing of what you speak."
"Then do enlighten me, dear brother," Klaus drawled. He pulled the cork from the bottle of brimstone wine and moved over to his brother's tea table. Taking one of the teacups, he started to pour the wine into the cup.
"Is that really necessary? Can't you —" Elijah objected, cringing when the brimstone wine filled the teacup to the brim.
"Don't tell me you no longer imbibe? Is this one of those vices you have abstained from for centuries due to your calling?"
"Among others."
"This one surely can't hurt." Klaus slammed the wine into his throat and swallowed. He drank deeply, enjoying the harsh, burning flavor on his tongue. Instead of clearing his mind and making his purpose even more clear it plucked at a memory, one that he wanted to bury in Hell's fire. Yet, it might for once, be of use. "After all, it is you who introduced me to the pleasures to be found in brimstone."
Elijah stared at him, not even a softening in his eyes, yet Klaus wouldn't give up. Even after all this time and his brother's betrayal, he knew there had to exist a piece in him that remembered that night.
The brimstone wine curdled in his stomach as he pulled the memory from the darkness within himself. If he could just reach Elijah, find a way to play on the past, maybe then he would be able to manipulate his brother into giving him what he needed.
Klaus poured more wine into his cup and drank heavily, the elixir he loved, souring on his tongue. "I couldn't have been more than 12 years and I came to you, the only one I could trust to tend to my wounds. Not even the servants would touch me. Not with Mikael's wrath once more centered on me."
He gazed back at his brother, yanking to the forefront pain long buried, hoping it would show in his eyes. All the while he cursed Elijah and his Angel for this show of weakness. He tried to focus on the prize, his obsession sprawled in his arms, naked with only her golden curls to cover her pale skin.
There…a flicker of something in Elijah's eyes, something other than the righteous flame from before.
"You healed me, brother. Bandaged my wounds and I tried not to cry, to be the man Mikael didn't believe I would ever be. Then, when the pain got so bad I bit my lip to keep from crying out, you called me brave and handed me my first goblet of brimstone wine."
Elijah bowed his head, hesitated before speaking. "That should have never happened. I should have never let father hurt you. Forgive me, Niklaus."
Klaus knew a strange pressure in his chest, a tightening he hadn't experienced before and one he didn't like. He forced it aside. He needed to focus on the game playing out before him. ""What is there to forgive? You weren't much older than me. What could you have done?"
His brother slumped into the chair opposite Klaus. "I looked the other way, kept my silence for the peace of the family."
The sight of his brother's pain started to burn into his retinas and Klaus blinked it away, not letting it touch him. Elijah would never be graced with his forgiveness, not when he betrayed their family, leaving them all to suffer under Mikael. He poured more brimstone wine into his teacup and then filled the second one in front of Elijah.
"Drink with me."
Elijah started to refuse and Klaus jumped in, another pull at his brother's strings. "After all this time you, would deny my polite request? For the time it takes to finish a glass of brimstone, you can't put aside past hurts and transgressions? To think, I thought Angels, God's chosen, practiced forgiveness and mercy."
Klaus's hurt tone barreled right into Elijah's heart, just like he planned.
"You still know how to wound with your words." Elijah's pained voice and the broken look in his eyes did not stop him from picking up the cup. "I will drink with you, but then we need to speak about why I summoned you."
"Of course," Klaus answered smoothly, eagerly eyeing the teacup make its way to his brother's lips.
Elijah started to sip at the brimstone wine and Klaus could barely stop from rolling his eyes. Then in an act that surprised him, his brother gulped down what remained of the drink and picking up the bottle he sloshed more into his cup.
"It has been so long since I have had the pleasure. Was it always this strong?"
"The making of brimstone wine hasn't changed in a millennium. You are unused to it after all this time." Klaus kept his tone light, easy and convincing. Not giving his brother a chance to guess at the lie that slipped so easily from Klaus's mouth.
"You're probably right." Elijah took another drink, making a sound of pleasure and leaned back in his chair.
Klaus shrewd gaze swept over his brother. Already, he could see the effects in the dilation of Elijah's pupils, the loosening of his tense posture. The brimstone wine had been manipulated with, made stronger with the hope that it would loosen Elijah's lips. Klaus, so used to the drink, hardly noticed the difference.
"Tell me what you so desperately needed to see me about?"
Elijah startled, his cup crashing into the tea table when he sat up. "I nearly forgot."
An accusation, like Klaus had deliberately set him up to forget his purpose. It poked at his anger and resentment, even though it was exactly what he had done.
"Since I am guessing you didn't intend this to be a happy reunion, let me know what you need of me so I can leave you this time. Instead of the other way around." Klaus spiked the words with extra feeling, aiming them directly at his target.
Avoiding Klaus's gaze, Elijah shifted in his chair like he sat on painful nettles.
It could only be guilt that made his brother so uncomfortable. A thought that should have pleased Klaus, instead annoyed him.
"It has come to my attention…" Elijah cleared his throat, smoothed once again the front of his suit coat.
Klaus leaned forward attentively, recognizing all the signs of his brother once more attempting to take control of the their meeting.
"Father or someone in our family, perhaps even you," Elijah paused to center his gaze directly on Klaus, "is harassing and stalking one of the Angels under my command."
"What?" Klaus painted his voice with incredulity and stared right back at his brother. Widening his eyes, he tried to affect an air of disbelief and confusion. "How is that even possible? There is no interaction between heaven's Angels and us."
Elijah was the first to break their connection. Looking away from Klaus he settled his gaze on the fire crackling in the fireplace. "That might have been true in the past."
"This is a grave accusation you are making. We are bound to our domain and our jobs in Hell just as you are in heaven. There are rules about these things."
"Unwritten ones."
Klaus wanted to laugh at how his brother justified sending one of Heaven's Angels to steal souls because the rule was an unwritten one? What other things was Elijah justifying just because there was no written rule forbidding it? The thought instantly sobered him.
"So you are accusing me of interacting with one of your Angels?"
"Are you?" Elijah turned from the fire, pinning his gaze on Klaus. The dark brown eyes bore into him and Klaus steadied himself, knowing that his brother was trying to read him. He relaxed his muscles, twisted his mouth into a bored smirk and inhaled slowly. Acting as if the accusation meant no more to him than if Elijah had asked for another drink of brimstone wine.
"Would I really risk Mikael's rage by dallying with one of Heaven's blessed?" Klaus lied.
His brother sighed and shook his head. "I know it isn't Finn," Elijah reasoned to himself more than to Klaus.
"Of course, not. He is too involved elsewhere."
"You know about Sage?"
"How could I not? Unlike you, I am still a part of this family and —"
Elijah held up his hand to interrupt. "Don't presume to lecture me on family, Niklaus."
The harshness in his brother's tone provoked a murderous rage in Klaus. Red colored his vision and the anger he carried thundered to be let out of its cage. It shook at the bars of his control and he looked away from his brother. He couldn't let Elijah see how close he was to ripping out his throat, Heaven be damned. Then he thought of her. White and gold, the purity and innocence that waited for him, for his darkest pleasures.
"Have another drink, Elijah." He smiled at his brother and poured more of the brimstone wine between their two teacups. "We shall solve this problem together."
"Why are you so willing to help?" Elijah asked, his brow furrowing with suspicion. Still he picked up his cup to drink the wine.
"Because if we can figure this out together I can fix it before Mikael gets involved. Because if it isn't Finn and it isn't me and we can rule out Rebekah that only leaves one other."
"Kol. I should have known. He is just as prone to mischief as he used to be then?" Elijah drank the whole cup of wine.
"I can easily see Kol tormenting one of your Angels. He would think it all in good fun." How easily Elijah took the bait. Even now he could see the wheels turning, his brother carefully considering all the possibilities.
"Are you sure this brimstone isn't stronger than it used to be?"
"You have lived outside of Hell for far too long." Klaus refilled Elijah's cup again. "I remember when you used to polish off several bottles in one night."
"That was because…before…when I —" Elijah threw back the wine, like a starving man devouring a feast.
There was a strange sadness, a melancholy air about his brother as he struggled to finish the sentence. It had to be the wine. Klaus finished his, waiting and watching for just the right moment.
"You need to speak to Kol. He can't continue with this behavior. She is one of God's ordained and he had the audacity to gift her with one of Mother's Blood Roses." Elijah tipped his head back to finish what remained of his drink.
"I will speak to him," Klaus promised. "He will not bother her again."
"He doesn't understand." Elijah pointed his teacup at Klaus. "And you don't either, but this Angel has a gift. Something I have never seen before and she has a mission. We need to make sure nothing stands in her way."
The brimstone was affecting his brother. Klaus could tell from the slight slurring of his words, his half-shuttered eyes and the slips of information. He just had to be patient and wait for his chance.
"Of course," Klaus soothed.
"Kol needs to keep his damn roses to himself. Nothing should be allowed to taint her purity. Her innocence, her light, it shines," Elijah pronounced, laying his head back in his chair. "When I am with her…I can see…"
Lava hot waves of jealousy crashed into Klaus. Like a struck match, his anger flared, became a raging wildfire. His brother knew too much about his Angel, had spent time with her. Here, in this very room. He knew it. The tea set for two, it had to have been for her. Klaus fisted his hand. He wanted to punch it right into Elijah's chest, yank out his beating heart and watch him die.
"She must be protected or it will all have been for nothing." Slurring his words, Elijah closed his eyes.
Klaus had only a few more minutes. His brother already was slipping into a brimstone stupor and once there he would sleep for a day at least. Klaus would never be welcome in Elijah's home again and all his plans would crumble to dust. His golden Angel would never be his, never share his bed.
"Who must be protected?" Klaus asked, his voice low and hypnotic.
"Caroline," Elijah mumbled.
Elation soared into Klaus's heart, sending it thundering in his chest. At last, he knew her name. Everything he wanted, everything he dreamed tied up in one word.
"Caroline." So simple, so perfect, so beautiful. It rolled from his lips like a sacred prayer. So intoxicating he couldn't help but say it again. "Caroline."
Elijah's eyelids flew open. Grasping the handles of his chair, he stumbled to pull himself up. "Klaus!"
It was a cry of horror; one of terror and Klaus relished it. It sedated the monster inside him demanding to be let out. How could he be angry now when Elijah had given him exactly what he wanted?
"Thank you, brother, for summoning me. This visit has been most enlightening." Klaus offered Elijah his most sincere smile and rose to his feet.
"Don't you dare touch her. She is the key to everything. Everything I have worked for!" Elijah shouted, staggering to his feet.
Klaus nimbly stepped aside when his brother lunged at him. The tea table crashed to the floor, the tea things and empty bottle of brimstone wine shattering when they hit the ground.
The sight of the chaos he caused to his brothers formerly cozy and pristine home filled him with a wicked delight. Now, it was Elijah's turn to suffer upheaval and loss and it would all be at Klaus's hands.
With a flick of his wings, Klaus descended to Hell, his name a curse on Elijah's lips.
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So now the trap can be set. Thanks for all the reviews. It is so nice to see people reading and enjoying this story. It keeps me working on it even when I shouldn't.