Klaus ran an irritated hand through his hair, the tight curls springing back at his touch. Damn this. She had rebuffed him – but how the hell had she managed to read his thoughts? That was a skill very few Vampires had. Very few indeed. And for her to be so direct, so clear – he knew that this was something different. Something else. That anger he felt at her hurt pushed him back into himself. He looked across at his twin and caught his eye. The expression...so similar, so rueful. Spite.

The car continued on its journey. The tinted windows provided enough respite from the suns rays, yet she was not wearing her defence. She was without jewellery of any kind in fact. He imagined her in the families diamonds, the crystal cut bouncing rays of ice white from her alabaster skin. The brief image caused him to frown deeply. Wallace watched from across the seats. They had almost arrived.

The rays of light through the shuttered windows, high and bright signaled late morning by the time Caroline began to waken naturally. Her body hummed. She felt the knot in her stomach which had gripped her at the airport, recognised it briefly, and rolled in time to vomit over the side of the bed.

Wait...bed? The covers were cool and heavy. Rich Egyptian cotton. And she'd just wrecked them. Red clots down the side of white sheets. Damn.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, marveling at the glitter in the sunlight, how it vibrated and warmed. A slow smile played on full lips, rouged with dry blood.

A whisper of thought from the corner had her preternatural speed kicking in and she lifted her head to stare across to the corner of the room. The room which was immense. Immaculate and masculine, the thick wooden bedstead, dark and heavy that she lay in was unmistakeable in its maleness. The eclectic furniture, amassed over centuries, indicated exactly whose room she occupied.

And I've just murdered the bedsheets. Great, Forbes, just great. The love of your life and you've killed his sheets. Nice sheets.

Paintings littered the walls, the sheer cacophony of feeling engulfed her and she took a deep breath to steady herself. Humanity could be a bitch when you were undead and overwhelmed. Her blue eyes adjusted to the light, and in the corner she could just make out the figure of Stefan. She had felt him yesterday, propelled him to her, and here he was, scratch free and starry eyed at her.

"You're awake." His lips moved, though she had heard him before it had even left his mouth. She smiled warmly and he blinked, feeling her emotion roll toward him. So it was true, she had been changed by the blood of Wallace.

He had spent most of the evening before silently conversing with Klaus' twin. Their shared knowledge of each other now indicated that in Wallace, at least for a while, there would be no harm to come from him.

For Klaus, however, that was another story. Once they had arrived and Caroline had been placed under Klaus' protection, the Original had plainly made his intention to keep Caroline here. He had fed her in her sleep and left Stefan to wait until she roused. That she roused and was immediately sick suggested that she no longer needed blood to sustain her. She was the evolution to which they aspired – immortal yet human. A magical being with limitless powers. Stefan frowned, his Caroline had grown in his absence and the thought perturbed him.

"How do you feel?" He ventured.

Her lips quirked, and she moved herself upward gingerly in the bed until she was sat upright. "I feel...great...odd, but great. I think I could kill for a slice of...toast?" She thought long and hard. Yes, she did want a slice of toast. Very very much.

Stefan tilted his head to one side, his gaze focused deeply on her, "Toast?" He stood and moved towards the bed, before resting next to her. The mattress dipped under his weight and Caroline edged away a little to allow him room, "Not 'to make toast of someone' just...toast?"

She nodded dumbly. Yes, toast. She thought again. He clearly heard her, as he smiled dimly to himself, "Fine, I'll...go in search of toast. Just a heads up, but you have quite a fan club gathered outside. I'd stick with...your friend first." He turned to leave the room, halted and turned back to her, his features quizzical.

"You compelled me."

"...To get toast," She answered, her features mirroring his own confusion in part, the rest radiated happiness and contentment.

He paused again before stepping toward the door; he didn't mention that Klaus had insisted that he remain on his watch until Klaus himself ordered his movement. He felt that would be more than Caroline could grasp in her present state.

No, it isn't. But thank you. Came the quick answer to his thoughts. He resolutely kept his face blank and his mind as slate clean as possible as he turned the door handle and left.

Caroline felt with her new powers, felt them stretch as the sun fed her warmth. She sensed Wallace, patient and confined at his brothers' behest in the room below. She felt him sense her stirring, his mind was silent to her at present though – the pressure to remain in a state of paused action meant that – like a tiger in a trap, I will not stir - -

- Like the eternal moon and stars, the feeling of the ground rotating at a hundredth of second, I am here and below and around and I am King in this quarter. I will be King in this quarter.

Klaus, his mind open, uncontrolled. She granted herself the indulgence in listening to his chaos, the thoughts which flowed unchecked. He was a deep well from which she could sip at leisure. He was hers, in her heart and soul. And he had betrayed her. Torn that trust and loyalty.

With a deep breath she sidled out from between the sheets, her clothes – unsurprisingly – had been removed and she walked toward the large wardrobe which dominated one wall in her matching pants and bra. Forbes, you can never be caught without matching underwear, the unknowing may happen and you will know that you at least will be well dressed. She opened the doors of the wardrobe and ran her hand over the material of the clothes inside. The heavy cologne of Klaus hung on the rows of shirts and tops, collected and neatly displayed within. Her fingers traced the cloth and she imagined the man in them, imagined the hardness of muscle beneath the cool black cotton t-shirt, felt the change in the texture. She breathed in the scents which threatened to break her resolve. Closing her eyes she let her minds' eye clasp onto the image of Klaus, his lithe and wiry figure hugging the material under her hand, filling it and forming before her. It was so real she could almost believe that she had conjured him from the depths of the house to the lightness of the bedroom - - almost believe that his body had jumped to fill the void between reality and dream - -