A/N: Thank you to everyone for all the love and support, it's very much appreciated! I'm just working out the last few things for the third and last part, but it should be up in a few days. Any and all feedback is appreciated, enjoy!

II.

"Hi," he says. Hi, like it's nothing.

Seven days after 1903, Bonnie lays eyes on him again.

Run, she thinks.

She doesn't.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

It comes out much louder than intended. He's come to her dorm and as he stands right there, right in front of her, everything inside of her screams at his presence. Everything aches, everything throbs. It hits her like a punch in her gut. The sight of him is infuriating, sparks her rage like she's a rabid dog. But even her rage is drenched in the ache of not feeling him; it causes cracks and seeps through her dark rage like poisonous, dark mold.

He's wearing a black shirt with an image of a red snake at the center of it. Cobra Kai, it reads. It's almost funny. Almost. He doesn't look like monsters should. In fact, if Bonnie didn't know any better, he'd fit right in with her fellow students. She sees some of them from the corner of her eye, halting at the sound of her voice to watch them. But she doesn't care. Maybe she could use an audience; a few curious, prying eyes to remind her not to stab him. Again.

"Can I come in?" he simply asks. She watches his eyes roam over her body, over her short, yellow sundress, and it angers her as much as it unnerves her. His gaze resonates, feels like filth and sickness. She ignores the rush of heat and the parasite that craves it.

No-Humanity Caroline went shopping three days ago, bought – compelled and stole – her three bright colored sundresses and then wouldn't leave until Bonnie had picked at least one and modeled it for her, too. And she kind of liked it, liked how it clung to her body and hugged her curves. But now…

She sneers at him, "Remember how I said I'd rather die of cholera than spend time with you? That still applies!" she tries to slam the door shut, to shut him out before she slips and forgets, but he puts his foot on the threshold and his hand flat on the door with a smirk. She hates it when he smirks.

"Come on, Bon. Dying is overrated, if you ask me. It loses its charm if you do it more than once. But we both know that," he winks at her; she resists the urge to roll her eyes, giving him her best glare instead, "I won't stay for long. It's about the heretics. You know, the imposing threat hanging above our heads?"

His hands go up and he wiggles his fingers for emphasis. This time she doesn't resist the urge.

Shortly after they came back from 1903, Bonnie learned three things: Lily Salvatore's family of desiccated vampires have a name: Heretics. She prefers 'vitch' or 'Gemini reject freaks'. Secondly, the ripper gene is hereditary. Another thing Damon conveniently forgot to mention. And, finally, his precious mother won't stop at nothing to get her family back. Only a matter of days until Lily will come begging for the ascendant, she's sure of it.

Bonnie sighs, as she lets Kai push against the door until there's enough space for him to slip past her. There's enough room for him to do so without even having to touch her, she knows there is, and she knows that he knows because how could he not, but why, why, why- she freezes at the light brush of his shoulder against hers as he passes her and his warm breath on the nape of her neck as he leans in from behind her to murmur a thank you.

Her next exhale is shakier than expected.

She shuts the door and turns around, raising her chin in defiance, lips parting to speak through gritted teeth, "You have five min-"

"Where are your bloodthirsty friends?" he interrupts, as he turns and steps further into her dorm. When he turns again to face her, the gleam in his eyes is accompanied by a maniacal grin plastered on his face, "Still taking care of that pesky no-humanity thing? Were you not invited to the ripper reunion party?"

"They'll be back any minute now," she lies. Her nails are dug deep into her palms. It stings, but it's a good hurt and a great reminder.

"I'll be in and out in a jiffy," he says. His smile says otherwise.

He's standing in the middle of her dorm now, right on that loose, creaking floorboard that in all those months hasn't been fixed. She leans back against her cold, closed door. It's as much distance as she can gather between them within the closed space that now feels about ten times smaller. Even so, his eyes are still on her as if there's nothing else to look at and she still feels it, the strain of him and them and this and seven days of aching silence and her fury embracing her like a cloak of protection.

"So, heretics, huh. Scary bunch. Mega powerful. Really gotta do something about that, don't we?" first his eyes soften, and then his voice, and both actions feel wrong and hollow, "But I gave everything- you know, the whole 'abandon Kai in 1903 with a bunch of super hungry witchy vamp hybrids' thing some thought… I mean, a lot of thought. A lot of long internal dialogue was required. I found this website, though, Wikipedia? I don't know if you've heard of it, but it's a bitchin' invention. Do people still use that? Bitchin'?"

"Don't push it."

"It feels timeless, but I can't keep up with 21st century lingo. Well, once you get sucked in- I was trying to figure out how to deal with your betrayal. Then I somehow ended up on the page about Rocky- apparently they're still making those- and urinary tract infections, for some reason. But I thought about it, about how you made me… feel? And I thought aboutwhy you did it."

"No one told me you were linked to Liv and Jo."

"So I've heard. Wouldn't be surprised if that's not the only thing your caring, strait-laced friends have kept from you."

"I may not have known, but I'm not sorry about it, if that's what you're thinking. If you weren't linked to them, I would have left you in a heartbeat."

That gets to him, she can tell. It's the first time he looks away from her. Good, she thinks. It fucking should. There's not a single apologetic bone in her body. She feels the first beat of a drum of power, a small thrill of victory bursting out of her chest. She crosses her arms to keep it with her.

"It's not. I just read that the best thing I can do is be honest about my feelings. So, it hurt my feelings, it really did. But I guess I'm trying to say that I get why you wanted to do it. Why you had to. Maybe even needed to?"

The question comes with such an uncharacteristic tone of faux concern and understanding that it makes her want to smack him until he coughs up blood. She thinks of the rave, the diner and the snow. Everything about him that wasn't there in 1994. It's maddening how he looks at her now, how his eyes turn soft and bright blue and warm, when all she sees is the predator underneath. It's like a grand, theatrical display, like the biggest performance of his life. And every sweet, soft word is one she wants him to choke on.

It has to end.

She walks towards him with clenched fists, "You have no idea what I need."

She knows that he hates her, he has to. Every action with them has always, always, had a violent reaction, a new layer of vengeance, another brick in their wall of bloodshed, "Stop lying, Kai! Stop pretending you don't hate me for what I did."

-XXXXXXXX-

Kai feels the rage in her voice in his bones.

It's almost as if her anger feeds him and makes all else fade away. As she stalks towards him, fire in her green eyes, fists clenched, he feels his dick twitch and his heart do that thing, that weird thing. Darkness is a good look on her, like everything else.

"I want to," he says. He probably means it, too. Does he? He should. "I would. Don't think I don't want to hate you. Would make everything about you so much easier, if I hated you. But there's this pesky little thing about me now… I've changed."

"Yeah, well, so have I!" she all but growls at him. He senses her magic, the power coursing through her veins and radiating from her form. She doesn't have a clue, he thinks. She has no idea how alluring she is. Bonnie's magic teases him, strokes his own, stirs the beast inside of him he's trying to lay to rest. It's electrifying and a part of him wants to steal it, siphon it and own it. His hands itch at the mere thought of the damage he could do with it. With her if she'd only let him.

"I changed you."

"Would you like a thank-you note? Thanks for the hell you put me through, let's do it again sometime?! No, you know what? You didn't change me. I changed me."

She's but a mere two feet away by now, close enough again for him to reach out and touch her. Fuck, he craves to touch her, take her. Her chest is heaving, the power coursing through her so strong and pure and untainted he can't stand it. He has to have it, has to taste it and own it and use it and feel it, feel it coursing through his veins because her magic almost feels like her, every drop of it almost drenched in her, just her, and if it's her then it's his, just his and fuck, fuck, fuck- why won't she let him? For a second he thinks she'll go for it, give in to the darkness, cast a spell, a simple motus to hurt him and relish in it. Give in and bring him to his knees. It reminds him of the rave, of the power she displayed when she stormed out of there. He takes a step towards her, her magic colliding, fusing, with his own. And he feels the static sparks in the narrow distance between them. Delicious, sweet, and theirs.

"Got it. Noted. But if you are capable of change, then why aren't I? I apologized, I asked for a chance to make it up to you."

She steps back and then again, increases the distance by another foot. It feels like ten miles. The floorboard creaks below her. "I'm not here to absolve you of your guilt, Kai. I hope it does keep you up at night, I hope it kills you when you think of everything you did to me."

"Way harsh," he glances down at her clenched fists. His own hand twitches, aching to brush his thumb past her knuckles, her furrowed brows and pursed lips. He feels like a schmuck, a castrated killer, a foolish bundle of nerves. His heart keeps doing that weird thing.

"Look- What do you want from me, hmm?"

"I wanted to play nice, but then you stabbed me."

Bonnie quirks up one eyebrow, "Sound familiar? I think your five minutes are up, wouldn't you agree?"

"Fine. I need the ascendant. Last time I saw it, it was in your hands coming back from 1903. But it belongs to me, it's official Gemini property-"

"That you need Bennett blood for-"

"…And I need it back. Now. It's urgent."

It's not a lie, per se. Maybe a slight bending of the truth, a dramatization of sorts. It's not so much a need as a want, and it's not urgent either as he's sure she won't use it. But it matters. The emotional part of him won't let it go, that duty he has to fulfill now as coven leader. He has to protect his coven, at all costs, from anyone. From his father, who'll surely do whatever he can to take away his power. From whoever tries to hurt Liv and Jo and that kid she's carrying. His niece or nephew or both.

The heretics seem to fit the bill.

"So you can release those freaks? You can't let them out, I won't let you."

"So I can destroy it and keep them there," Bonnie scoffs at him, but he ignores it, "I got what I wanted- I'm the leader now, this is my coven. Remember when I said I wanted to give the Gemini coven an excruciating death? Not my finest moment... But that's what they'll do, as soon as they get out. And if I allow that to happen, then all of this will have been for nothing. Nothing to lead without a coven, am I right? And Luke... Luke would have died for nothing and the part of me that came from him would never forgive myself for that."

"Drop the act, okay? You're not here for the ascendant. You know I'd never give it to you," she says. He sucks in his cheeks, repressing a smile. Her defiance arouses him, even when it annoys him.

"Smart girl. Perceptive. I do want it to be destroyed, really, I do. Which I'm sure you're already working on. But you're right. Maybe I needed to see you. Is that a crime?"

-XXXXXXXX-

The worst one, she thinks. The biggest.

"Lately, I've been feeling a little… Call it an identity crisis, a matter of split personalities. You see, the old me would have had something in store for you after you stabbed me in the back and tried to abandon me. A well-thought-out, perfectly executed plan, designed to make all of you miserable."

His faint smile is chilling, "Imagine if you'd actually left me… But the new me? Luke sabotages all of that with what he infected me with, an actual conscience. It's… Empathy, I'm sick with empathy."

For a second, he looks like a sulking child, denied of his play time. Kai sighs deeply, theatrically, his shoulders slumping as though in defeat.

"So you, how do you call it- you merged with your brother in a creepy, slightly incestuous ritual and now you have all these feelings? Cry me a river, Malachai," she spits out his full name like venom. Like filth. She instantly regrets it. It feels more intimate than 'Kai'.Too intimate.

"I mean, that's why you keep apologizing to me, right? Not because you've changed, but because everything you think you feel and every decent thing you do is what Luke would feel and what Luke would do." She notes that her words make his jaw clench, make him look away again. There's a glimmer of pain in his eyes. It thrills her, provides another rush of power that shoots straight down to her gut. A sharp intake of breath follows.

"Not everything," he says, meeting her gaze. Despite herself, she falters, and a rush of heat surges through her. Run, she thinks. Every poisonous word out of his mouth scares her, as it pushes her more towards the edge of the unknown, provides a lifeline to the part of him, of them, inside of her that she can't seem to silence.

"I don't care."

"I think you do."

An exasperated laugh escapes from her before she knows it, "Well, I think I hate you."

"I figured as much, the literal knife in my back was a good indication. But as a wise man once said, the opposite of- on second thought, it could have been Oprah- it sounds like her, doesn't-"

"Kai!"

"You hate me, yes. Fair enough, so do a lot of other people. You, though… Tell me, is that all?"

"You stabbed me!" her raised voice sparks her magic. The lights of her dorm flicker off and on and off again, permanently, darkening her dorm significantly. Rays of sunshine through her window illuminate his form.

"Decidedly not what I asked."

"You put your hands around my neck and you stabbed me and then you left me! You left me all alone," he's near her again, so close, too close, right in her orbit as though he never left. She tries to move, tries to tear her eyes away from his, from him looking at her like- like that, but she finds herself incapable of doing so. She can't fight the draw of his magic, breaking through her dark rage and coaxing her to stay in place.

"So, no, that's not all," the slight slump of his shoulders reveals he heard the trembling in her voice, "I can't look at you without wanting to rip your heart from your chest and wanting you to-"

"Do it," Kai snaps, interrupting her, "If you hate me that much, then go for it. Rip it out, it's right here. Have at it!"

Spreading his arms, his eyes filled with mirth, he utters the words as if it's a simple proposition, as if it's no different than him offering her a piece of gum or a lighter for her cigarette. When she steps back, he reaches out, grasping her wrist tightly and guiding her hand to his chest, right beneath the red cobra's tongue. His heart beats rapidly underneath the fabric of his black shirt and against her palm. There's a hint of playfulness in his eyes, of lewd curiosity and bratty arrogance, as though he's daring her to do it and perhaps even wants to see her try.

"If you want my heart, it's yours, Bonster," she tries to pull her hand away, but he grips her wrist tighter to hold it in place, "Take it. Rip it out, go on. Do you want it?"

His smugness is infuriating, but she feels her pulse pounding in her ears, drowning out his voice and his smug, smug, face and the creaking of her floorboard. Her nails dig into his skin through his shirt. For a moment, she slips and forgets. Thinks of the marks she can make on his skin. Thinks of clutching her fist around his still beating heart and digging her bloodied nails into it until its last, weak and fighting beat. It's tempting, the thought of ending it all, and mostly, ending him. It lures her in like the song of a siren. Blindly, obliviously and as though under a spell. Each beat of his heart is like another question mark.

Do?

You?

Want?

It?

His closeness reminds her of the first time he stood right in front of her with her hand on his chest. It was before she knew about his past, before everything. It was the first time she'd felt it, felt him, felt that pull. It could have been desire then, she thinks. Now, this moment haunts her like he himself. Her eyes move up from her palm on his chest to his neck and his carotid artery. She remembers stabbing him right there in the heat of the moment to get away. She'd killed him just like that, just for her and no one else. For a moment, a faint smile unwittingly appears on her face, but it fades as soon as she meets his taunting eyes, still fixed on her.

When she does, it dawns on her.

"Your coven," she says, weakly. It took her what seemed like forever to say it and the realization is crippling as hell. Because it comes with a confession she never wanted to make. That, for a moment, she truly didn't care. For a moment, there was nothing but him and her and her thirst to settle the score.

"Exactly. Collateral damage: if you rip out my heart, they die," Kai murmurs, his voice low, with every hint of playfulness gone from his eyes, "However will you deal with me now?"

She senses the sudden change in the air between them, thickened, palpable, loaded and heavy. His gaze slowly travels down Bonnie's body, drinking her in unabashedly. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up at his inspection as it drowns out all noise, everything but him, and deprives her of all air. When his eyes meet hers again, darkened by that same hunger she runs from, she knows he has her. Checkmate.

"It's funny, I didn't think you were like me, like the old me, I mean-"

"I'm not!" she angrily pulls her hand from his grasp. Backing away from him, she raises her hands towards him, calling upon her magic, "Motus!"

She doesn't wait to see him land against the wall, turning on her heel and stalking towards the door. Behind her, she hears wood breaking and a groan, followed by deep, sardonic laughter. Reaching the door, she turns the doorknob, but he catches up to her in an instant. The gush of air that meets her as the door opens is ripped away, as Kai slams the door shut with his magic.

Startled, Bonnie turns around, finding him right in front of her. She's met with his hard, unyielding stare, fixed on her as though he's studying her every feature, etching them into his brain. His eyes are cold, rigid, devoid of the playfulness he entered her dorm with. There he is, she thinks, the animal, the one she knows. But her insides are awakened by the knots and flutters, sparking an ache in her gut that has her at a loss for words. She feels her darkness tightening its hold on her, dulling the knots and flutters until the ache fades. Fury fills her eyes and it softens his as if her anger soothes him.

"I'm nothing like you," she grits her teeth, "You're a goddamned parasite."

"Maybe you're right. But I caught you, you sneaky little witch. I saw you considering it, allowing yourself to imagine it for a second. You liked it. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Does inflicting pain on me get you all hot and bothered?" He grins widely, manically, tilting his head to the right, "Messed up, isn't it, hate? So confusing. You wonder why I asked you if all this is, is hatred? It's adorable, how you pretend you don't want this just as much as you hate-"

The sound of her hand meeting his face in a slap fills her ears, fills the room, fills her lungs with the oxygen he stole. Her hand hurts and her eyes sting with tears she won't spill, but it's drowned out by the wave of power she feels in her lower abdomen, ripples, a spark of tension that shoots down to her belly and makes her muscles contract.

"That's what I thought," with a smile, he rubs his jaw as if to lessen the sting, "Does it bother you? This? How you think of me, how you want me? You must be starving."

"I never think of you," she lies, shaking her head for good measure, "I'd be mad if I wanted the guy who shot me with an arrow. I can't want you, I won't."

"Can't want me? Or don't?"

He raises his hand, reaching out to her, and he puts a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. She barely registers the move, but his soft touch startles her, unnerves her as much as it wakes up the part of him inside of her. She bats his hand away and he pulls it back, biting his bottom lip and raising his hands as though a form of mock surrender. But when he lowers his hands, he doesn't step back, not one bit.

Kai parts his lips to speak, but Bonnie hears nothing but her rapid heartbeat pounding in her ears. He's but a mere few inches away, right in front of her, too close, so close she feels his warm breaths on her face. He's too close for her to think. Her darkness cries and begs and howls and screams at her to run back into its embrace. But she's rooted to the ground as though she's stuck, as though she's tethered to him, as though her body lives by an entire other set of rules. Bonnie swallows thickly, as her eyes flicker down to his lips, to the curve of his sinful mouth. It's inviting, more alluring than she can afford it to be. Plump and soft and like a gateway drug to the real stuff. To hell. Like an apple, she thinks. A red, tempting apple from the devil himself. Her bottom lip quivers as she fights it, struggles not to crave it. It clouds her every sense, aching and burning and clawing at her insides, tears at every layer of skin and muscles and bones, and it hurts, like everything about him and them and this hurts. And yet… She's famished. Mad. One bite, she thinks. She reads her name on his lips and her eyes flicker up to meet his hooded, hungry eyes. Hell, she thinks. He looks down at her, looks down at her like that, and she wonders if, perhaps…

So she takes it.

Just one bite.