Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaires

Chapter 4

Two and a half weeks later

Caroline sighed, trying to cover up a giggle, stopping dead in her tracks right in front of the door to her dressing room.

"Is there a problem? C'mon, I'm bringing you to your dressing room."

"Tyler! We have a performance tonight and you seriously can't be back here."

"I know. Let's go! The longer we stand here, the more likely I am to be found and get you in trouble."

Caroline rolled her eyes and turned around with an amused sigh, "No. I have to go to my dressing room to prepare for the run through and performance tonight. You have to leave."

"But…I only got to see you for like thirty minutes. And talk to you for even less time than that."

"You'll see me again tonight, silly," Caroline said, looking up at him under long lashes. "You should go home and get ready for that, instead of dwelling around here all day. You'll get bored and restless. Monsieur Elijah doesn't want me wasting my energy so I won't be able to entertain you unless you want to try on dresses and put makeup on."

Tyler pursed his lips and made a sour face. "I think I'll pass but only because you're forcing me to leave you alone."

"You are such a child, Tyler. Now, seriously, as fun as this back and forth thing has been, I have things to do to get ready. So, go on. I'll see you later."

"But Mason has been so boring lately. Ever since dinner a couple weeks ago, he's been moody and…and just not Mason."

"Have you tried talking to him? Maybe he's still upset about Katerina for disappearing off the face of the planet without so much as a note?"

"I don't know but it's getting old."

"Is that why you are constantly showing your face around here, mister?" Caroline asked with a raised eyebrow and amused look.

"Maybe," Tyler replied, mirroring her amusement for a moment before he looked at his shoes and then shyly back at her. "Maybe it's because you and Mason are my only friends here."

"Oh, Ty," Caroline breathed, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. "Well, the only thing I can tell you is to go out and make friends. No one can do that for you."

"Well it's not easy…nobody wants to befriend the loner, the spoiled brat who doesn't care about anything unless it directly involves him."

"And now you're being dramatic. You have your moments, Ty, we all do but you're a good person…and you'd do well to remember that. So, since you've been stalling and keeping me from my Prima Dona duties, maybe you should run along and start making some friends? Just possibly…for me?"

"Geez, okay. If you really want to push me away….,"

"Yes! Unless you want to accept the makeup and costume offer…?"

"Okay, okay! I'm gone, Care," he said with a laugh as he turned on his heel and started to take a step forward. He stopped short and turned to say something over his shoulder, "You know…maybe I could help you with your makeup? Just like when we were lit-"

"Tyler!"

He just laughed as she pushed him on his way. With an annoyed laugh and disbelieving look at Tyler's back, Caroline shook her head and turned to open the door to her dressing room.

"I hope that offer was only for him."

"Stefan!" Caroline exclaimed, her eyes growing wide in alarm. "I wasn't expecting you today!"

Her music tutor was sitting at her vanity, facing the door with his elbows on his knees. He looked up at her, green eyes meeting blue, and smiled. "No, you're not late, Caroline. I wasn't scheduled to come today."

"Oh. Well…sorry if this sounds rude, I don't mean it that way and I don't want to offend you or anything bu-"

"No offense taken. I get this is a little odd but your sponsor wanted me to bring you this," he said, sitting up and holding out a single, long-stemmed, perfect blood red rose with a flawlessly tied, pristine black ribbon wrapped around the vibrant green stem.

Caroline studied it for a moment, her eyes flickering from Stefan's face to the rose. She hesitantly stepped towards her tutor and slowly took the rose from his hand and studied it, letting her fingers skim across the soft, delicate petals.

"Is that all?"

"No. He wishes to tell you that, while he knows you will perform perfectly, he would like to pass along his well wishes."

"And why couldn't he come and tell me this himself? I'd really like to know who the angel is."

Stefan chuckled as he stood up and placed a hand on either of her small shoulders, "Maybe that's all part of the allure, the mystery, the enchantment. Maybe he feels that if he came to you himself, you wouldn't be as… accepting of him and his generosity. Besides, he wouldn't be an 'undisclosed sponsor,' then, would he?"

"I guess not," Caroline huffed. "I still want to know who he is."

"All in good time, Caroline. All in good time," Stefan said with a smirk and a mysterious glint in his eyes.

"And I'm just going to have to take your word for it?" Stefan's smirk fell into an easy smile as he nodded his head. "Fine. If you see him, would you please tell my 'generous, undisclosed sponsor,' I am very grateful for his interest in me and my career."

"Of course. Now, I really need to be going. I have places to go and sponsors to meet with," he said with a wink and a smirk as he stood up.

"And now you're just teasing me."

"Of course, Caroline. That's what I'm here for, is it not?"

Caroline shook her head and Stefan could feel her eyes watching him as he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone to contemplate the small token. He walked briskly along the backstage corridors and nearly ran straight into Elijah.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," he said, smoothly stepping aside to hold the door open for the owner.

"Monsieur Salvatore! What a pleasant surprise," Isobel said from behind Elijah. "We weren't expecting you today…I hope Caroline was here. That mischievous child has been running around with that Lockwood boy lately, she sometimes doesn't return home until past midnight!"

"Oh, yes Madame Flemming. I saw Caroline but, don't worry. I just stopped by to pass along a token from her sponsor."

"Ah. Her so-called 'Angel of Music'."

"That would be the one," Stefan said with an eye roll and a fond shake of the head. "I guess no one has the heart to tell her that she's just naturally talented."

"Caroline is much too bright and has suffered too much for me to be able to do that. It would crush her bright spirit," Isobel said, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder with a kind smile. "Good day, Stefan."

"Good day to you as well, Madame Flemming. Monsieur Mikaelson," Stefan replied with a slight nod to the owner of the Opera Populaire before heading out into the Parisian streets, leaving Elijah and Isobel in the corridor.

"Well?" the head of the ballet questioned, holding out a folded piece of dated looking parchment in front of Elijah.

"Well, what, Madame Flemming?"

"Monsieur Mikaelson you know very well what. This is not the first time he's sent me notes."

"Yes, yes, Isobel. 'Several notes of amiable nature' that I have purposefully ignored," Elijah quipped as he began walking again, Isobel hurrying to keep up with his brisk strides, "and your so-called Ghost has not acted out once. I believe I told you the day I took over the Opera Populaire that I would not deal with a hoax. My ignorance seems to be paying off, wouldn't you agree?"

"I cannot say, especially since he hasn't stopped sending me notes since the night our wonderful," Elijah didn't miss the sarcasm dripping from woman's speech, "Patron and his nephew came to the performance and sat in Box Number 5. That is the Phantom's box, Elijah," Isobel said under her breath as a group of young ballet girl skipped past giggling and laughing while bidding the two 'Good Morning'. "If you continue to ignore these notes, maybe should take up the matter with your brother. While he rarely shows his face around here, at least Monsieur Klaus seems to have the right idea about our friend."

Elijah let an amused chuckle escape his lips, "He may put on an act otherwise but Niklaus fears no one. And, technically, Isobel," Elijah countered, "the box in question belongs to the Lockwood family and I am powerless to do anything about this 'dispute' unless this 'Ghost' presents himself in person with his right to claim that box."

Isobel sighed in annoyance, "Very well, Monsieur."

Elijah smiled down at her, "I knew you would see it my way, Madame. Now go on and attend to the Corps de Ballet. We have another big night ahead of us!" With that, the brunette gave Isobel a pointed look, smiled, and turned on his heel to walk away.

She scowled at Elijah's back for several moments before turning in the opposite direction.

It was nearly 6:15 by the time Isobel was knocking impatiently and urgently on the door of Mason Lockwood's luxurious apartment. After several minutes the man pulled the door open.

"Madame Flemming," he greeted, a lazy smile appearing to erase the disgruntled expression on his features when he first opened the door. "It's a little late for you to be knocking on my door, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is Monsieur Lockwood. If you'll please drop your charming charade and let me in so I can return to the opera house as quickly as possible," Isobel stated. She didn't wait for an invitation before striding past Mason into his home and the door shut behind her.

"Now, Madame Flemming, this obviously is no joy visit. What is troubling you?"

"Where's your nephew?"

"Oh, Tyler? You just missed him. He's probably already at our beloved Opera Populaire."

"And you're not accompanying him?"

"I haven't been for some time. Come now, Isobel. You know the opera isn't really my thing," he said with a smirk before taking a drink of the amber liquid in his crystal glass. "Is that all? Any message I can pass along to him when he returns?"

Isobel was silent for a moment, gauging how to best approach the subject. "He's been sending notes, Mason. The Phantom."

The amusement on Mason's face dropped immediately as his interest piqued with the turn in the conversation. "Has he now? Does Monsieur Mikaelson know?"

Isobel nodded sadly, "He doesn't believe it, Mason. I worry for the fate of the Opera Populaire if he continues to neglect the Phantom's wishes what with his violent reputation and all."

"Wouldn't I love for him to show his face so I could eat him and solve the problem," Mason growled under his breath. "What is his wish this time?"

"It's simple, really. He just wants his box to remain empty."

"Shouldn't be a problem. Who's been occupying it?"

"That's where the problem lies, Mason. Before it was never an issue because you hardly come to performances and when you do, you rarely venture upstairs."

"What are you getting at, Madame Flemming?"

"The box the Phantom has always laid claim to is Box Number Five… the very box owned by the Lockwood's…where your nephew has been every performance since Caroline Forbes made her debut."

Elijah stood up and applauded briefly, a satisfied smile on his face, before turning to leave his box. He stepped on something discarded on the carpeted floor and reached down to pick it up. It was another piece of folded, aged parchment with Monsieur Mikaelson was scrawled across the middle in small but fine cursive.

Elijah looked around, not recalling someone entering the box during the performance nor did he remember anything falling out of his pockets. With a sigh, he unfolded the parchment.

Greetings, Monsieur,

You asked for an audience and this is the closest you will ever get. In fact, I am feeling gracious even sending this note directly to you.

It seems, sir, that you are ignoring my wishes and I do not take lightly to those who betray their deals with me. I have given you more than enough time to adjust to the responsibilities that come with owning the Opera Populaire but you continue to gloss over the most important detail so let us get one thing straight, Monsieur Mikaelson: the titles to the Opera Populaire may be in your name but I run this organization. You are to do as I say, no questions asked.

Now that's out of the way, asking for my box to remain empty seems to be a simple enough request, don't you agree?

In my experience, those who refuse to obey respond best to displays of violence and perhaps that is what it will take for you to acquiesce my desires. I do wonder how well our beloved Opera Populaire will fair without our charming Patron.

Let's find out, shall we?

O.G.

Elijah's brows furrowed as he looked up.

From across the theater he could see someone leaving the infamous Box Number Five.

"So did you make any new friends earlier today?" Caroline asked as she and Tyler walked, arm in arm, through the Parisian streets.

"Well, I don't know if you could call them 'friends' quite yet."

"But you found people to talk to? That's so great, Tyler!"

"I guess. None of them match up to you, though. You've really been here for me the past few weeks…I thought being in Paris was going to be miserable but, thanks to you, Mademoiselle Forbes," Tyler said with a smile, unlinking their arms only to take Caroline's hand and twirl her under his arm and into his chest, "it hasn't been half bad."

Caroline smiled up at him, blue eyes twinkling, "It's been nice to have you here, too, Tyler. I've missed you. I don't want you to leave…whenever it is you have to go home."

Tyler nodded in agreement. "Good thing it's an undisclosed date," he chuckled, lifting a hand to caress her face, thumb stroking her cheek. Tyler slowly leaned down, inching forward to capture her lips in a brief, innocent kiss. Caroline smiled against his lips and melted into her childhood love's embrace for a short-lived moment.

"Tyler! Good to see you again!" someone called.

The two jumped apart and studied the interloper. He was tall and bulky with a menacing air about him. His eyes were fogged over and far off as he stumbled closer.

"Do you know him?" Caroline whispered, moving to stand closer to Tyler, clutching his arm.

"Yeah," he answered, maneuvering so Caroline was slightly behind him, protected from the drunk approaching them. "He's one of the guys I met today. G' evening, Dean!"

"You failed to mention that you're seeing a girl, Lockwood!" Dean said, eyeing Caroline to give her a once over. "That's too bad…you would have made one hell of a wingman."

Tyler pushed Caroline farther behind him as Dean's fist swung through the air. Tyler dodged it and quickly reacted, swinging his own fist at Dean. "What the hell was that for?!" Tyler exclaimed, jumping back a step, pushing Caroline back with him, a protective hand on her waist.

"It's nothing personal. You see, my friends and I have some business to take care of," Dean said, motioning to a few more men who had joined them on the street, "We're just doing what we've been told."

Caroline screamed when Dean's fist hit Tyler squarely in the jaw with an inhuman speed, knocking him backwards off the walkway and into the cobblestone street. Caroline rushed to his side, kneeling down to aid Tyler, her hands brushing his shoulders. Dean moved again before Tyler could get up, kicking him in the gut.

"Run home, Caroline," Tyler grunted as two more of Dean's friends stalked forward. "Get out of here!"

She backed up instinctively as she prepared to run but was caught around the middle and pulled into the solid chest of another man. He held her tightly, rendering her struggles useless. "My, my, my what a pretty thing you are," he whispered into her ear. Disgusted, Caroline pulled her arm away and threw her elbow back into his face. She heard the crunch of the man's nose breaking and he let her go in surprise; she didn't have to think twice about running but she did make the mistake of looking over her shoulder to find Tyler.

He wasn't fighting a winning battle. Caroline knew from their childhood that Tyler was quite aggressive and, from the multiple physical fights he had gotten into over the years with Matt and other boys in their hometown, Tyler was a very knowledgeable fighter but these men were faster and stronger. He was swinging his fists recklessly, failing to land hits as the group seemed to move around him in a blur, hitting him relentlessly.

Caroline ran straight into someone and his large hands curled over her arms tightly. She looked up to see the man who held her earlier only, it appeared that his nose wasn't broken but completely healed. How could that be? Her eyes grew wide in fear as he smirked evilly down at her.

"Poppet, it's going to take a much harder hit than that to knock me out. Nice try, though," he whispered, licking his lips as he regarded her hungrily. She whimpered as the man tightened his hold on her even more, squeezing her wrists so that her hands felt like they were going to pop off her arms.

In another desperate move, Caroline spit in his face. The man growled, a feral, animalistic sound coming from deep within in his throat as he looked up at her, a glint of yellow flashing in his eyes. The move happened so fast that Caroline wasn't sure it was real until she felt the sting against her cheek and the twinge in her neck from being slapped so hard. The force of it brought tears to her eyes as the man's nails dug into her skin, drawing blood.

He let her go suddenly and Caroline stumbled backwards, away from him. She swore the man's eyes changed from their brown color to yellow and when he opened his mouth, pointed teeth hung down threateningly in his gaping mouth. He lunged at her, sharp teeth tearing at her pulse point as she screamed. But just as suddenly, another man barreled into the monster, knocking him off of her and causing even more damage.

Mason Lockwood turned back to look at her after he had wrestled on the ground with the other man. His eyes were the same yellow color and Caroline panicked for a minute, scooting backwards from where she lay on the street before he sprang away and joined the main scuffle.

"Mademoiselle Forbes? Mademoiselle? Are you alright?"

Caroline recognized the face of Mason's coach driver, Jacques. She nodded her head as he crept closer to her, tears burning her eyes, as he pulled out his handkerchief to hold to the injury on her neck. He motioned for her to move her hand out of the way and she did so, the cloth made painful contact with the wound. It didn't last long as the man was dragged away. There was a loud pop as Jacques' neck was twisted and broken in one movement sudden jerk of two large hands. Caroline screamed once more, tears falling on her cheeks as she looked at the limp body sprawled in front of her, his head lulled to the side at an odd angle. She looked up, expecting another attack but saw Tyler staring down at the butler in shock.

"Oh my God," he muttered, kneeling down to take the man's pulse.

"Is…is he…? Tyler, did you kill him?!"

"Oh my God. I…I didn't mean to… I didn't…shit I'm so sorry. Jacques? Jacques, wake up! Shit, shit, shit! I didn't mean to k-" he yelped, back bending backwards, and was unable to finish his sentence. Tyler's hands went to his head, holding it between them as if he had a headache. He was screaming in pain before he fell to his knees and looked up at her.

His eyes had turned yellow.

"Tyler!" Caroline screamed. "Tyler what's happening?!"

He was breathing hard, a sheen of sweat coating his face as blood ran down his nose, eyes still yellow as he looked into Caroline's face. Mason ran over to the two and started to kneel down, "Come on, you two. We only have a moment befo-" Mason stopped short when he saw the driver's body. His alarmed gaze went to his nephew immediately and took in the yellow eyes fear and the young face twisted in fear. He moved to grip Tyler's shoulders and pull the boy up, keeping a hand around him for support. Without so much as a second glance at Caroline, Mason and Tyler sped off into the night.

Caroline looked after them in confusion, a sick feeling in her stomach as she began to feel sleepy. Remembering her wound, she brushed her hand off on her dress and pressed it against her torn flesh, whimpering at the pain. A noise caught her attention and she looked away from Jacques' body to where the skirmish had started. She could make out Dean pulling himself to his feet, his eyes narrowed on her and from several feet away she could make out the yellow in his eyes that would haunt her even in death.

The man began lurking towards her, like a predator closing in on its prey and Caroline knew she had no chance. Dean lunged and she closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow but it never came.

Instead, she heard a scuffle, someone yelled in pain and then there was a thud as a body feel to the ground. She felt large, strong hands, fluttering around her neck, gingerly removing her hand from her injury and cradling her head. She heard a crunching sound, much like when her attacker's teeth had ripped into her neck. And, then, something was held to her lips, warm liquid slipping against them, falling into her mouth. She tasted blood and shook her head weakly against the taste but two fingers closed her nostrils and she was forced to breath through her mouth, pulling the copper-tasting liquid down her throat.

As soon as she had swallowed, the fingers moved and smoothed her hair back from her face. Caroline opened her blue eyes wearily and found herself looking up into yet another pair of yellow eyes. But there was something different about these, something she couldn't quite place.

Caroline was convinced that she was dead and this was the angel that would be taking her to heaven to join her father. This was her guardian, her Angel of Music.

She smiled up at him weakly. "Thank you," she muttered before falling limp in his arms.

A/N: Once again, I'm a terrible person for leaving you all hanging for a few weeks! I'll be better about updating. I promise:)

I know there has been next to no Klaroline interaction when this is a Klaroline story...but hang with me! There's a method to my madness, guys! Things are about to happen;)

Thanks for reading and if you have a second let me know what you think in a review. I appreciate them and y'all's support for this story... and I like hearing your theories! Thanks again! Until next time...;)