A.N.- 120 follows at last! You guys are the best :D Anyway, I'm sorry for slacking with the updates. Please R&R and enjoy. Follow me on twitter at HaylijahIsLife if you aren't already. Thanks! Bye
"Ow!" Belle cringed as the needle pricked her palm. Klaus sat on the edge of the tub next to her as he sewed up her wound - she stubbornly refused to use his blood. Not that he expected otherwise.
Minutes before, he and most of the compound's residents had rushed to her aid, otherwise known as gawking from the doorway to ease their curiosity. Until she swore at them and forced them to leave.
Belle explained the current situation when she realized who might be responsible: the witch that had "knocked her out", more like hexed her.
"Sorry," he mumbled as he continued stitching the gash. "It's been a while since I've done this."
"Yay me," she deadpanned. "Shouldn't you call one of your witches? I mean, a witch did this to me. Who else is going to help?" Her eyes focused on the movements of his fingers, trying to calm her nerves. For the first time in a long while, she felt incredibly vulnerable. Vulnerable and confused.
Klaus let out a sigh that sounded more like a huff of frustration. "I have Davina on it at the moment. When we're done here you can show her the witch that attacked you." He took the stained towel Belle had used earlier and ran it under the faucet. With uncharacteristic tenderness, he wiped the blood from her now stitched hand and clipped the excess tread with a pair of scissors. "There."
"Fantastic." She examined her hand for a moment before looking back at him. "Thanks, Nik." She smiled, tempted to kiss him.
However, he must've been preoccupied because he stood and headed for the door. "Come on." His voice was stern and urgent.
She frowned. Belle was normally fond, if not overly, of Klaus in all of his moods. But control-freak wasn't the best color on him. Although, there were times when she didn't exactly mind him being in that mood. She suppressed a smirk. 'Get your mind out of the gutter, Campbell.'
She got to her feet and followed him downstairs.
They found Davina sitting on the floor, surrounded by a sea of ancient, tattered spellbooks.
Klaus cleared his throat, hands folded behind his back. "How goes the search, little witch?"
Davina sat up a little taller and turned to face them. "Well, considering that you've given me like 15 minutes and absolutely nothing to go on, not very well." She rolled her eyes, turning back to her books.
Klaus's face contorted as he attempted to control his temper. "Well, I'm sure the face of the witch responsible will be of some assistance." Sarcasm filled his voice, though his face was virtually emotionless.
Davina and Klaus turned to Belle, who didn't seem the least bit amused. She wasn't exactly thrilled about letting someone she hardly knew into her thoughts. Trust issues and all. She huffed, sensing the growing annoyance that filled the room. "Fuck it. Here." She stepped over the books and stuck out her undamaged hand to Davina, who wearily accepted.
They closed their eyes as Belle dropped the veil that concealed her thoughts and let Davina see, just for a few seconds, the image of Claudia and the young witch in the La Fayette Cemetery.
Davina gasped and pulled away, reopening her eyes. "I recognize her, the witch. Her name is Cassie, she was a Harvest girl, like me." Her brows knit together. "She's dead, or, at least, she's supposed to be. If she's back, why would she be helping your mother?" She looked at Belle with confused puppy-dog eyes.
Trying not to cringe after hearing the words "your mother", Belle signed deeply and shrugged. "Claudia's very persuasive. My best guess is that she made some false promises about power or protection to her, but I'm not too keen on witch business." Belle stumbled out of the pile of books and began pacing anxiously as her mind processed every possible option.
"And I'm guessing you have no way of contacting this 'Cassie' to figure out what the hell she did?" Klaus asked, though it was more like a demand.
Davina shook her head. "Like I said, as far as I and the rest of the witches knew, she was dead."
"Then find her!" Klaus and Belle spoke in perfect unison. Davina stared back at them with wide eyes. "Please," Belle added, trying to soften the mood.
Davina nodded. "In the mean time, I'll try to figure out something about curses and hexes involving vampires. I've never heard of one that turns a vampire human before."
"I'm not human," Belle snapped. She took a moment to regain her composure. "I'm still a vampire, just less of a vampire, somehow, I think." Anxiously, her eyes darted around the room aimlessly. "I'm going to take a shower or something. I don't know," she groaned, raking her hands through her loose, disheveled curls as she headed upstairs.
Once she reached the bathroom, Belle slipped out of her clothes, which felt like weights that insistently dragged her down.
She turned on the water for the shower and stepped in, sliding the glass door close. The water was warm and felt almost freeing as the stress in her muscles slowly ebbed away.
Her peace was disturbed when a knock came from the bathroom door. She knew without looking that it was Klaus. "What?" she groaned, trying to sound less irritated than she really was to spare his feelings.
The door creaked open. Belle looked out the foggy shower door as his clouded figure entered the room. She slid open the door enough to peer out at him. "Can I help you?" she asked, grinning at his amused expression. For thousand-year- old man, Klaus had the tendencies to act like a teenage boy. Not that she was much better at times.
"Rough day?"
She chuckled. "You have no idea. Family drama, witch hexes, blood."
"The usual?" He smirked.
"Pretty much." A quiet laugh slipped through her lips. She cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out what he was thinking. "What?" She laughed.
His eyes wandered from hers to her lips to neck and to farther down to the parts that, to his dismay, the shower door blurred. He frowned and pushed it open, trailing his heated gaze back up to her pale blue eyes that were watching him like he was the most fascinating sight in the world.
Before she could make a snarky remark, his lips were on hers and they were in the shower standing under the warm water. His dry clothes were now almost completely soaked, but neither of them cared.
Later that night they lay in bed, side by side, facing each other as they listened to the cars passing by and the sounds of their breathing.
Belle's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she forced them open. "Nik," she whispered, drawing his attention to her.
"Yes?" He inched closer to her. "What is it?" He could tell from the look in her eyes that something was bothering her. And the way her eyebrows knit together like she was thinking too hard about something. That was never a good sign.
She held one of his hands in her own, half expecting him to pull away at the contact, though she didn't quite know why. She couldn't stand to say what she wanted to while looking him in the eyes, so she watched their hands, intertwined above the blankets. She meshed their fingers together absentmindedly.
"I," she hesitated. "I'm afraid." Those were two words she hasn't said in a very long time. She exhaled and looked back into his eyes which were full of concern and, oddly, empathy. "I don't know what's happening to me."