Short chapter, but it ends right as Chapter 1 is about to begin. I wrote more but I realized i was trying to fill up word count vs. do something appropriate for the story. Another lesson learned :)
Just a trigger warning - there is mention of physical abuse in Rebekah's flashback. Her scene starts off this chapter, and it will be obvious when it flashes back - please skip those two paragraphs if it is something you are not comfortable with.
Again, fully catching up timelines with this chapter, and Caroline and Klaus will have some direct action very very soon.
Thanks for reading as always, and I hope you enjoy.
It was going to be close to impossible to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off of Rebekah's face. She knew Klaus had been distracted lately, but she had had no inkling that it was over a girl. Laughter threatened to escape and she spent a moment trying to school her features to a composed mask. She was deep in the Quarter and too many unfriendly eyes were about to notice more than they should.
She mulled over what she had just learned in conversation with Klaus' vampire lackey, what was his name? Something with a J? Whatever. He had been more than willing to bring Rebekah into the conspiracy, telling her about Klaus' obsession with finding the girl and the spell. J couldn't resist a good gossip, Rebekah mused.
'Oh how the mighty have fallen,' she thought, her smirk growing wider despite her caution. She considered her options, thinking of the times through the centuries when Klaus had interfered in her own love life.
Well, that really was putting it mildly, wasn't it? She couldn't remember a single paramour who hadn't met an unfortunate end at Klaus' hand. All in the name of protection, of paranoia, underpinned by that twisted big brother's love because 'he was not worth a tenth of you, Bekah', turning over the centuries to derisive judgments of her character.
Yet somehow she still hadn't shed the skin of the true romantic. That was something in your heart, perhaps put there by the first loving touch of mother's thumb on your brow, by the deep timbre of father's voice, by the smiles and applause as you took your bows from a dramatic retelling of your brother's antics. Minus Klaus, that is. You could still remember father's face whenever Klaus was even mentioned, much less around to bear the venom of that gaze. That closed off expression, skin mottling an angry red as his eyes hardened and jaw tightened. The nervous swallow as you waited to see what happened next, tiny hands twisting the fabric of your homespun dress.
You had seen so much, had seen Klaus try to make himself smaller, inconspicuous, don't see me father I'm not here no I didn't spill anything on the floor that was 'Lijah and don't you tattle boy and the red weals underneath his shirt. You had felt him flinch at your exuberant hug, had pulled down his shirt amidst his protestations, touched the ugly mark on his chest, skin burnt and scarred. Centuries later you had watched as he had tattooed over the scar, again and again until the body no longer recognized the ink as a thing to be healed. Again and again to cover that mark, that scar, cast long before their new selves had been borne of a mother's twisted love.
Rebekah paused in front of a corner house, arched doorways and wrought iron balcony signalling she had returned to the Mikaelson home. Feeling a bit peckish and wanting some more time with her thoughts, she passed the building, cocking her head to hear the rasp of graphite on paper. Ah, he was home. Rebekah wondered how long it would take him to burn this one in effigy.
She shook away the idle thought as she continued, passing underneath a hotel balcony where a group of frat boys were pre-gaming with shots of cheap vodka. The acrid smell stung her nostrils and she made a moue of distaste. Back to the real question for now. What to do? To sabotage his interest, or to foster it? Should she find this girl first, hold her heart in her freshly manicured hands, feel how it continued to pump as it tore from the chest? Should she see it instead as an opportunity for one of them to unlock the chains that weighted them all, her brothers and her, sunk in the ocean's depths, calling like sirens from their red sea? You'll have to forgive her a moment's poetry. Klaus was not the only one to inherit an artist's eye, she was just less obvious about it.
During her vampire adolescence there had been no Cosmo with a quiz to fill out - 'Is he really into you?' No friends' hushed giggling as she twined the phone cord around a finger, no texts filled with winking and heart eyes emojis. There had only been Klaus, deeming her suitors inappropriate, unworthy, beneath all notice. She had come to agree with his opinion if not his methods. So perhaps...perhaps that was the real question. Was this blonde girl worth his time? She doubted it, her step stuttering with a frisson of shock as she recognized just how Klaus might have felt observing each of her lovers.
Well then, regardless, at least this girl was something new and different. Rebekah had been growing increasingly bored of late and welcomed the distraction, even if it would be a short-lived one. Turning around, Rebekah began walking back to the mansion, stopping below the vodka-soaked frat boys and flashing up to spirit the cutest one away. He'd taste horrible, but it would be better than the sugary sweet Hurricane-laced blood of the other tourists, and he was ripped underneath that atrocious plaid button-down. Maybe she'd play with him a bit before drinking him dry.
"You seem pretty eager." Bonnie says to Klaus' back, the hybrid having already turned to head upstairs to the study seconds after opening the door.
Klaus circles a finger in the air as he approaches the stairs. "You're wasting time, witch. Come, let's find our blonde friend." He holds Caroline's name close, unwilling to give it up, the possessiveness an unwelcome flare firing in his chest.
Bonnie narrows her eyes at Klaus' impatience and sighs, adopting an almost leisurely pace up the stairs to spite him. She meets his clenched jaw at the door to the study and unshoulders her bag, rummaging through it before pulling out a blade and setting it with care on the table. There is a reverence in this, in that hush before the spell is cast, when energy seems to gather in the air in anticipation of serving her will. Magic is absolutely addictive, even if the spell hangovers leave her useless for days.
Klaus sees her nodding at the blade with her chin and sits down across from her, hefting the knife before drawing it across his palm in a deep cut to let the blood flow longer. The scent of iron tickles his nose as Bonnie picks up the hair he's pointed out and touches it to his dripping palm. His fingers close and the golden shine dulls as the dark blood slinks down the hair's length before softly spotting the table's face.
Closing her eyes and murmuring softly, Bonnie lets the magic grow. It starts as a chill on the back of the neck, gooseflesh raising as the magic courses through her limbs with an icy shock. It is the monster that eats its own tail, the beginning and the end cycling back upon itself; building, building, building and spreading outwards until she feels it, a shove, and oh - this is no simple locator spell.
Something is pushing back.
"Phasmatos Tribum Nas Ex Veras," her voice spirals up and Klaus sees the blood begin to trickle from her nose.
"What is taking so long?" Klaus snarls, patience wearing thin.
Bonnie is too caught in the magic to respond, pushing against the resistance, gaining traction then losing it. She has a brief moment to think that she might be in too deep and uses the fear to ground her. She barely feels the wind cycloning in the study as she grits her teeth and shoves at the table, at the same time pushing with her mind. A heartbeat passes. Two. The chaos seems reluctant to stop and hangs for another moment in the air before collapsing with an inhuman shriek and the smell of burnt hair. The room quiets and she hears Klaus' sharp inhale, the screech of a chair being pushed back. Opening her eyes, she meets Klaus' smirking grin as he places his palms on the table and leans deep.
"Pack your bags, witch. We're headed to the Jewel in the Crown."
MINUTES EARLIER - MYSTIC FALLS
Caroline hangs up her peacoat, brushing off dog hair she had picked up at Matt's house. He had adopted an adorable German Shepherd mix who totally wanted to bite Caroline's face off. Sometimes being a vampire really sucked. Anyways, it had been nice to catch up with Matt - he had always been a constant in her life, from childhood to high-school hookups and back to friends. Sometimes you just didn't have enough chemistry with someone no matter how much you wanted to.
Caroline pulls out a blood bag from the minifridge she'd bought with money earned from temping the past few summers, popping the seal with a practiced fang. She sips on B positive while she sorts the mail and tidies up the kitchen, dumping out a tupperware container of old leftovers. Seriously, how had she not smelled that?
It had been a calm, uneventful day. Which meant she was kinda bored and almost welcomed the now-familiar pulling sensation low in her gut. Except this time it was violent, like a hook snagging her insides. Ow. What. The. Hell.
Caroline bends over, clutching at her stomach and heaving a few gasping breaths before she's even able to look around. Hmm...She's inside the Red Fort, recognizing the stilted onion domes that always remind her of boobs. Taking a few steps outside the scalloped archways of the inner hall, Caroline heads towards one of the gates. There's a biting wind driving away the fog at the base of the red sandstone walls and Caroline shivers, pulling the hood of her sweater up. Why couldn't the spell have had her cross worlds while she still had her stupid coat on? It isn't as cold as Mystic Falls by any stretch of the imagination, but it's cold enough with that wind whipping around buildings and finding the holes in her sweater.
Head down against against a particularly strong gust, she doesn't catch the face that appears for just a moment in the fog, misses the glint of recognition as he sees both her and the telltale landmark of the centuries-old Mughal fort.
She pauses at the inner gate, back resting against a wall she gives a pat of thanks to for blocking the worst of the wind's gusts. In the distance, the blare of car horns seems even more chaotic than usual, low visibility from the fog no doubt wreaking havoc on the city's streets.
She still has a twitch in her gut from the violent crossover and presses her hand against the ache, the pain so similar to that of a cramp that she, for a moment, sighs with annoyance. Until she remembers that vampires don't have periods. That whole can of worms was still something she was processing, to be honest.
Caroline pushes off the wall as if to leave the thoughts behind. She'll have plenty of time to think of her own life once she saves her mom's. To her surprise, she feels the tug of a return trip. Wait what? I just got here? she thinks before fading away and returning to the warmth of the kitchen she had left moments ago.
NEW ORLEANS - Lakefront Airport
Bonnie snorted at Josh's pained expression as he stumbled around the corner of the airport outbuilding, Rebekah's steamer trunk in tow.
"Booooooooniieeee why does Rebekah have so much stuff? Do you have a spell for lifting stuff?"
"Dude. You're a vampire. It can't be that heavy."
"You don't understand. Or wait, maybe you do." Josh squinted at Bonnie, trying to read her face. "Is it possible to cast a spell to make every piece of clothing in here weigh four thousand pounds? Roughly?"
Bonnie raised her eyes skyward and shook her head, huffing out a laugh before heading up the staircase affixed to the private jet's door. "Come on, I saved the co-pilots seat for you so you can pretend you're flying and make laser shooting noises."
"Oh, Bonnie. You know me so well." Josh grinned and ducked under the wing, thunking the steamer trunk down on a conveyor leading to the baggage area of the plane. He scrambled inside the cabin, checking out the interior. Klaus was already on board, limbs arranged in a regal slouch on a captain's chair.
"Is Rebekah on board? We ready to go?"
Klaus leaned forward, steepled his hands in front of his face, and made a tutting noise. "Josh. You are a vampire. At some point, and please let it be soon, for my patience wears thin, you will discover that you have heightened senses and can see, smell, and hear someone coming from a half a league away." Klaus' words dripped with sarcasm as he continued. "As you clearly struggle with your power, allow me to answer -"
"Your humor is tedious, Nik. I hope you have better entertainments planned for the trip." Rebekah interrupted, breezing in the cabin and thrusting a valise in Josh's arms despite his protestations. Sitting down primly on the edge of the seat adjacent to Klaus, Rebekah stared at Josh until he gave a start and handed back the small suitcase.
"Funny thing, sister, I don't recall actually asking you to join us."
"You didn't, but I've already forgiven your rudeness." Rebekah patted Klaus' leg mildly. His jaw twitched. "I'm quite sure you'll need my help when a situation requiring finesse arises. Besides, it's been ages since I've had a good curry."
Klaus eyed Rebekah with a calculating look before turning and nodding at a trim, brunette stewardess, signalling they were ready for takeoff. With a bright smile, the stewardess - PAM the name tag read - turned and sashayed up the aisle. The extra wiggle was clearly for Klaus' benefit and Rebekah rolled her eyes at the tedium of it all.
"I do hope there's less trollop-y snacks on board."
Klaus' long-suffering sigh accompanied an ascending whine as the engines prepped for takeoff. The plane taxied to the runway and bumped over the tarmac, engines roaring as the jet gathered speed. Bonnie, ensconced in a comfy chair in the back of the cabin, gave a small smile at Josh's joyous whoop from the cockpit as the plane lifted off and shot into the ether.
DELHI, INDIA
Caroline had left Abhi a few hours ago, wrapping his hand around a gold ring Myrna had ensorcelled with a cloaking spell. Caroline and the witch had strategized over Skype for several hours, coming up with some plans for the infiltration of Agrasen ki Baoli. Myrna had even driven down from Richmond in an ancient Volkswagen bus, handing Caroline several magical items, some gathered over the years and some specifically made for Caroline. There was the cloaking charm for Abhi, a couple of flame charms, and some illusory magic that she hoped would get her past the pishachas and straight to the cure.
Caroline was actually doing some reconnaissance of the step-well now, a quick dip in and out of the area to see if she could spot if security had been beefed up and to get a general lay of the land. Last time she hadn't really had a chance to check the outside much, missing the stairs entirely as Abhi had laughingly told her later. She knew she needed to do this before she made a full-on attempt to recover the cure, but she was admittedly nervous. The last thing she needed was to get caught - or worse - lead one of the grey dudes back to Abhi's house.
Old Delhi was so weird, Caroline thought as she crossed over the wide, almost empty streets. Mansion-like bungalows loomed over the street, set back on top of low hills swathed with green despite the season. Other than the sound of central heating chasing away the winter chill, and the brr-brip of an expensive car lock, silence was dominant. Yet just ten blocks away, vegetable sellers hawked their wares as old women in saris waved money from second story windows, mopeds brrrappped their way through narrow streets, narrowly missing tourists bent over examining a cloth merchant's wares. The contrast was insane.
Delhi in general seemed about contrasts, like the modernity of glass and towering metal next to a crumbling, largely ignored ancient ruin. Agrasen ki Baoli was a perfect example - for real, the step-well would be enclosed in plastic with DO NOT TOUCH signs all over it if it were in the U.S.; complete with an overweight, bored security guard watching over, no less. She'd take the guard over the pishachas any day, but no one had asked her.
Now only a hundred feet away from the baoli, Caroline peered around the trunk of the peelu tree she was using as cover. She had watched a ton of spy movies, ok? Spotting movement, she ducked her head back, cursing under her breath for not remembering to tie her blonde hair back. It was pretty much a dead giveaway if someone happened to look her way. She slowly edged herself out and saw a hulking grey figure urgently addressing a group of men. Caroline held unnecessary breath, watching as the men nodded at the pishacha before peeling off in different directions, thankfully none headed her way.
The grey figure turned her way, head seeming to pause for a moment at her tree before moving past, or maybe that was just her paranoia. The demon's head cocked sharply as a second voice growled in a guttural language, finally turning bodily towards the well and disappearing below the line of the steps.
Caroline exhaled, waiting a beat before leaving the safety of the peelu tree and circling around the step-well from another angle. So...two of those grey dudes - she had recognized the timbre of that second voice if not the language. Two of them, and six... men or weres or whatever, she wasn't too sure. Ugh...she really had been hoping the two demons were acting alone, but she wasn't honestly surprised and it was part of why she asked Myrna for the bag of tricks. Which she couldn't wait to use, by the way. She definitely needed to do some test runs to make sure she understood how everything worked and then work with Abhi to finalize the plan. He seemed off, like their last conversation was still troubling him, so she hoped involving him in the planning would bring him back, or at least allow him to open up about whatever it was that was bothering him.
Now on the side of the well she had swung down on her last visit, Caroline crouched low, using a stunted bush as cover. Hmm...there were actually a few evergreen trees close up to the well that might help hide her approach, she mused. She spent another twenty minutes cataloguing the landscape, the noises, almost vaulting backwards in panic when one of the pishacha's voices once more broke the relative silence.
The shock brought her back to reality. OK. She had been at this for too long and it was time to head back to the safety of Abhi's. She chose a circuitous route to lose anyone that might be following (spy movies, remember?), ending up heading through the afternoon bustle of Sadar Bazaar, remembering to buy a beanie cap for her next reconnaissance mission. She was distracted, her mind narrowing in to focus on just one thought:
A few days, maybe a week and she'd be ready. Nothing was going to stop her from getting that cure. Nothing.