Klaus snaps Myrna's grimoire closed, his jaw ticking with frustration. No one has been able to find an answer, not in spells once cast or history long forgotten. Last week he'd even had Bonnie try the locator spell again, but after pushing her a third time, the witch had fallen unconscious and still no blood raced across the map's page, no vision appeared with Caroline's location.
She is gone. Forever, he thinks bitterly before shaking it off. Because that isn't quite true, is it? There is something unfinished that almost hangs in the air in hushed expectation, and it is that feeling which buoys his dogged pursuit.
He drums his fingers on the side table and the ice in his glass clinks as it shifts, the sound distracting enough that his hand now reaches for the copy of Abhi's aunt's timeworn book. He's read the prophecy a thousand times, perhaps more, and he wonders where the missing details are that speak of Caroline and her part to play. The pishachas had been less than forthcoming on his final visit, so all he has are the ancient words. The eldest queen lies in eternal wait for crimson to free - he reads over the last line - blood is the obvious answer, but have the pishachas missed their opportunity now that Caroline is back in her own world? What's the link, they key? What is he missing?
Truth be told, Klaus has never been one for prophecy. Power is power, regardless of tiresome portents, and a situation can always be manipulated to advantage. But right now, he's at a dead end, and he does have a city to run, despite what he said to his sister in Delhi. There's a meeting today, one the humans refuse to call an audience but it remains one all the same, and so he will hear their complaints and pass judgment and mercy where he sees fit. At least he's in control of something, he thinks. The bitterness creeps up again and his traitorous heart lurches.
It's the perfect temperature in New Orleans this time of year - the faint sting of winter's chill is faded but the swamp still stays away, as if in offering. Bonnie's hanging up laundry on the line outside, shimmying to the music pumping out of an ancient boombox that rests on a nearby chair.
"Never took you for an 80s fan," Josh's voice is muffled, and when he rounds the side of the house Bonnie spots the cookie sticking out of his mouth.
"Didn't anyone teach you not to talk with your mouth full? Also...oatmeal raisin?"
"Eww no. Chocolate chip. Grams is seriously the best grandma ever." Josh takes a monstrous bite of another cookie and Bonnie shakes her head, a smile sliding up one side of her face.
"Of course she is. Anyways, what's up?" Bonnie peers closer, notes yesterday's wrinkled shirt, the bedhead curls. "Uh..Josh, did you seriously just do a walk of shame straight to grandma's house? So wrong." She laughs, clips a camisole to the line. "So how's Aiden?"
Josh looks momentarily embarrassed before adopting a goofy grin. "I guess I decided possessiveness is hot." He's settled in a chair now, and glances down at the wrought iron patio table, clearly debating whether or not to set his last cookie down without a plate. Bonnie clears her throat loudly and walks over, palm up to accept his offering. Laundry can wait.
Cookie burden relinquished, Josh leans back in the chair and pulls his phone out, thumbing the lock. His eyes widen at whatever he sees there, and his voice is odd when he speaks.
"Have you heard anything about what Marcel's been up to recently?"
Bonnie narrows her eyes, wondering at the sudden question. "Noooooo. But to be honest, I try to give Marcel a wide berth. That whole attempt to control witches was a douchebag mo-"
Josh interrupts her by shoving his phone in her face, a text from Aiden on the screen.
What's up with the new blond vamp Marcel's got on lockdown? Caroline?
They stare slack-jawed at the phone. A DJ announces the next song, and 80s synth fills the air.
"Wh-what?" Bonnie manages.
Josh shakes his head slowly. "No earthly clue. It can't be her. It can't.," he says, his brow furrowing in confusion before he looks up sharply. "Can it?"
Bonnie grabs at his phone and hits the call button, a voice picking up after two rings.
"Hey Aiden, this is Bonnie, stealing Josh's phone. We were wondering if you knew anything else about Caroline?" She nods her head, listening. "Really pretty? Young? Definitely a vampire?" Her eyes widen and both her and Josh mouth a silent oh my god. "Thanks! Well, I don't want to bother you anymore at work. Yeah, I'll keep him out of trouble," she says and hangs up, laughing at Josh's affronted expression.
"I want to talk more about how clearly into you Aiden is, but that's gonna have to wait because we've got to figure out how to get Caroline away from Marcel. Ugh, why didn't she call us?" Bonnie grouses just as her phone vibrates in her back pocket.
Met an old friend of yours, apparently. She's asking about you. Beautiful girl, very mysterious. Dinner's at 6.
"Well I guess that makes it easy."
"I've let Bonnie know you're here, invited her over." Marcel's tone is almost seductive in its friendly charm, but Caroline is having none of it.
"Thanks! I hope you told her the cells here are quite lavish!" she grumbles, knees drawn beneath her in a chair that sits in this dark, windowless room.
He casually reaches up, clasps the lintel above the door and leans into the room. "Caroline! Come on now! I can't just let you wander around my city, not without finding out why you're here in the first place. You understand, right?"
"Not really. I didn't know you could own a whole city and prevent people from visiting."
Marcel sighs. "OK, let's cut the crap. I'll be honest with you, and I'd appreciate your honesty in return. New Orleans is a crazy place, and I like making sure my friends and I have a safe place in it. Bonnie and Klaus," Caroline wills herself not to react at his name, sees Marcel's eyes narrow as he studies her face, "are back from India with some bs about new demon allies, and then you show up. Pardon me for being suspicious." He drops his arms, eases into the room and pulls a glass from the bar top opposite the couch. "What's your poison?"
"Nothing. Thank you." Her response is instinctive, more to buy time for what to say next than anything else. Marcel shrugs in a 'suit yourself' gesture and hitches himself up on a barstool, one leg propped on a rung.
Caroline decides the truth, at least part of it, is what's owed. "So... the demons are real, but I'm not one of them. And I'm just...no one's expecting me here, I can promise you that," she says, unable to keep the wryness out of her tone.
Marcel stares at her, takes a sip of the cognac he's just poured. "OK, so that's part of the truth. Thank you. But I've got a hell of a lot more questions for you."
"Can I ask one in return?"
Marcel nods, bemused.
"How do you know them? Bonnie and Josh and Klaus, I mean?"
"Well, I said I watched Bonnie grow up, so you've got that piece of the puzzle. Josh, I turned him when him and a friend came down for Mardi Gras. It didn't quite work out. And Klaus?" Marcel shakes his head, a grim almost-smile on his face. "He's... something else. I guess you could say he's my mentor."
Caroline's eyes narrow. "I can't decide if all this," she gestures at herself and the room, "means you're a horrible student or the best."
He lets out a surprised laugh, teeth flashing. "Sounds like you know Klaus pretty well then. Yeah. Our relationship is...complicated." He takes a sip of his drink, eyes glittering over the rim of the glass. "But back to you. I've never heard of you before, and I keep tabs on the people who know Klaus. So what I'm trying to figure out is how a megalomaniac vampire with trust issues becomes buddy-buddy with a baby vamp in a couple months."
Caroline shrugs, offering a smile. "What can I say? Travel brings out the best in everyone."
"Should we call Klaus?"
"Not unless we have to. He's even more unstable than usual when it comes to Caroline. Let's try to keep the body count to zero for now." Bonnie smooths back her hair, thinking. "I don't see Marcel hurting Caroline, he just clearly knows how to play his hand. Let's go talk to him."
"OK, but I'm leaving a note for Grams," Josh says, and Bonnie nods. She should have thought of it herself, but her mind's spinning because what how? Caroline? In NOLA? and she's so distracted she forgets to punch Josh on the arm when he calls shotgun because stupid joke is stupid when there's two people but Caroline is here?
It's only a short drive from Grams' shotgun house in Treme to Bywater, but nothing's really that far away in New Orleans anyways. There's more freestanding houses here, little bungalows and creole cottages with flowers just starting to bloom in between. Bonnie pulls up to the curb of a double-galleried house that's set back from the street, and Josh is up the walk and reaching for the doorbell before the tick of the cooling engine dies.
Bonnie takes her time approaching, and as she reaches the door she grabs the knob, murmuring a few whispered words until the lock clicks, Josh stuttering in distress as he reluctantly follows her in. Marcel's voice calls out casually, as if this is a social gathering instead of a negotiation for her best friend that's somehow managed to come back from her own reality, "We're in the backyard. Grab yourself a drink!"
Bonnie spots Caroline first, running over and enveloping her in a hug. "H-how? Not that I'm complaining." Caroline's eyes widen slightly and slide to the side and Bonnie nods and hugs her again as Josh joins the fray. Later then. She turns to Marcel who's watching them with almost greedy eyes, and it's not a look that she likes on that face with its charmer's smile.
"What do you want, Marcel?"
"Direct as always, Ms. Bennett. What do I want? I want the truth. All of it. About your trip overseas, what new power Klaus has stirred up," he nods at Caroline, "what's the deal with our friend here. She's doesn't talk much."
"I'm not your friend," Caroline spits out at the same time as Josh huffs an amused "you clearly don't know Caroline," and Marcel smiles, unfazed. There's a burst of unrelated laughter from behind, a small group of werewolves circled around a grill that's now billowing smoke. They listen to the hiss of steam as one of the wolves pours his beer on the coals.
"Ahh, but you could be my friend. I'm not so bad a guy, Caroline. Just talk to me."
"You're not going to just keep her here against her will, are you?" Josh asks, nervously jangling the change in his pocket. Marcel's always been one of the...nicer vampires, it's his easy charm that has gained him the support that threatens Klaus' rule, but something's off here, and all of them can sense it.
"Look, I don't think I'm asking for much. Just a little information. And if keeping Caroline here is the leverage I need to get answers then so be it." There's a little less warmth in his voice now, his irritation present.
Bonnie glances at Caroline with a question in her eyes, then turns to Marcel.
"I went to India to help Caroline. Her mom's sick, and she heard of a cure based in Indian witchcraft."
Marcel nods as he processes her words. "But wait, how do you guys know each other in the first place? I thought you met in India."
Caroline's never been more grateful for her and Bonnie's almost voodoo-magic bonding on that Delhi roof than she is now, for the answer comes easily. "Mystic Falls. The Bennett witches have roots there, and we met when she came up with Klaus for the doppleganger."
"So is that why Klaus came to India too? For you?" There's something more weighted in this question than the last.
Her eyes dip down as she responds and she curses her reaction, knowing Marcel is reading into every gesture. "Nah. He was after some demons, like you asked about earlier." Bonnie twitches subtly at this, acknowledging the lie. Josh stares distractedly at the wolves.
"Crescent Clan? Didn't know you guys were fast friends," Josh says. The jingling starts up again and Caroline reaches out to grab his wrist.
Marcel laughs at this, but his ego lets him buy into the distraction. "It's amazing the friends you make when you promise vengeance on the vampire that killed one of their own. And now, more than ever, I can actually mean that," Marcel says with a smile at Caroline. "Come, sit. Take a load off."
Bonnie steals a glance at Caroline and arches a brow, but Caroline just mouths a concerned 'I don't know', her own brows knit in frustration. There's a loud laugh from the wolf pack as someone's story reaches the punch line. No one moves to sit, and the silence that descends is unbroken by sound, just a vibration, the weight of a new presence unfurls over the group and Caroline's face is clearing involuntarily because Klaus is here.
"So disappointed I wasn't invited to the party, Marcellus."
Bonnie can tell Klaus is pissed, but within that there's a softening of his pokerless face as his gaze settles on Caroline, even as Marcel answers.
"Oh you were going to be, I just wanted a little chance to talk to Bonnie here first. You've been a little unstable recently. Pretty sure we all know why now." Marcel's grin is wide, he's enjoying the taunt. "Found an interesting letter on our girl here," Klaus restrains a possessive flinch, "matches up to what Bekah let slip." Caroline's head snaps up to glare at Marcel. She'd forgotten about Abhi's letter, wonders what else it reveals and how much Marcel has been playing them.
Klaus knows his sister can't be trusted, although he doesn't ignore the 'slip' part of the message. Marcel still cares amidst his gloating to not fully blame Rebekah for her loose lips. He files the information for later and schools his features, because these are the moments that can reveal far too much, he well knows. There's a rush of movement out of the corner of his eye - vampires closing in from behind - and in front, wolves circle Marcel where he stands with one hand gripping Caroline's upper arm. The air is still as the scene seems to hang on the razor's edge of tumult. Marcel decides to let the bomb drop.
"But what's really interesting is what Caroline here had in her bag...and what I now have." His tone is casual as ever as the sunlight glints of the veins of silver that run through the stake he pulls out of his back pocket. Klaus glances at Caroline, sees shock warring with confusion on her face, but a thousand years of treachery twist it into something darker. Betrayal thickens his tongue, and his mind quickly filters through memories with a new sinner's light. His mouth twists in a sneer. He attacks.
"Ah, Caroline. You couldn't do it in the end, could you? Did you find yourself falling for the monster? How utterly cliché," Klaus scoffs, huffs in derision and shakes his head as if scolding a child. "Was my deep, troubled artist stare what turned the tide to let you forgive and - dare I say it - perhaps even fall in love, so that your tortured self could not commit the final act?" Klaus bows mockingly, eyes not leaving her own confused gaze. "Do you think you are the first threat I've seduced? Because make no mistake - you were mine, at the end, and we both knew it." Her eyes drop at this and a fire grows in his chest, searing.
He swings his head to meet Marcel's gaze. "And what of you? Do you think even with the stake you pose a threat?" A breeze fans Bonnie's face and Klaus is nose-to-nose with Marcel, his fingers closing around the wrist of the hand that holds the stake, and the sharp sound of splintering bone has Josh wincing and clutching at his own wrist in sympathy. The faint sound of the stake hitting the ground seems almost ludicrous, this instrument of an immortal's death that barely tamps down the grass where it lays.
Klaus pulls back as Marcel curses in pain, more to dull the scent of her than fear of Marcel's retaliation. He dares a quick glance and while there's hurt that shines in the dampness of her eyes, she's staring at him like she's trying to figure him out and her betrayal sits on his chest like a weight because somehow his heart still refuses to believe it. And - oh the irony - we do not feel we do not care and his own heart is the biggest traitor of them all. So when he sees her open her mouth to speak, he interrupts her before the sweet rasp of her voice poisons him further. "If you thought Caroline a bargaining chip for the city, then you were woefully mistaken. Kill her if you wish, Marcellus. And then try to kill me and see how far that stake gets you."
And these things, and those that follow, happen in the briefest of moments. Moments that stretch somehow, drawn out moments that bear the weight of more time than they're made up of, as all life-changing moments do. There and gone. Words spoken and left unsaid. Love and loss and death and ruin and -
Bonnie stabs at Marcel with a spell and his shattered hand raises to clutch his temples. Caroline, now free, shakes as if to clear her own head and angles towards Josh and Bonnie while a wolf makes a half-hearted grab at her before the shine of the white oak stake distracts him. She shoves at his weak grip with a twist and watches his hand close on the stake and then he's turning and throwing and she's tracking it as it slices through the air.
And there's no sense to it, really, because Klaus is Klaus and his hand is already almost lazily raising to block the threat but she...she's there instead and there's a bubbling gasp as breath is torn from her throat and replaced with blood and then he's catching her in his arms and he's staring down at the stake that's lodged deep in her chest and he thinks, not for the first time since meeting Caroline Forbes - oh - is this what loyalty is?
I think we all know this isn't an angst story, so don't fret too much.