Bonnie blinked, once, twice, and then thrice. "Wait, what?" Did the man of her quite literal and very twisted dreams just threaten her over a bitch straight off the sidelines?
Why the hell would Niklaus come for her in such a reckless way? She didn't get it. Over the course of her seventeen short years, she'd pissed off countless former friends and strangers alike. This she knew better than how many licks it took to get to the center of Rebekah's Tootsie Pop. However, a few of those runners had deserved her ass to kiss. Yet to be fair, more times than not her attitude had stemmed from her simply not wanting to be fucking bothered.
Her Grams had called her an asshole by nature and the sweet lady had rarely ever spoken wrong. Especially in regards to her. Though, even with all of her dimming qualities on display to all who happened to cross her path, she'd never shown her backside to Niklaus. So why the hell was he so turnt on showing her his?
"Niklaus, your talent for inaccuracy never fails to astound." Elijah strolled forth, passing the marble columns to stand next to the curving staircase. He unbuttoned, and then opened the jacket of his suit to slip a hand in the front pocket of his pants. "Firstly, you placed Bonnie's well-being in jeopardy by abandoning Marcel's body, and then forsaking her to his wrath-,"
Bonnie stuck her index finger in her ear and wiggled, because there could be no way in a hell blaze she'd heard her him right. "Say what now?"
The most posh Mikaelson continued, only pausing long enough to spare her an apologetic expression. "Had we not intervened your son would've surly dispatched her to the other side."
"Okay when you say he abandoned his son's body, what exactly do you mean, Elijah?" Her eyes flicked from him to Niklaus and back, before comprehension nearly forced them from their sockets. "Are you saying Niklaus was around here perpetrating as…?"
She gave her over-functioning brain a mental shake. Well now that was fucking unthinkable…but what if? Then that would mean everything she'd shared with Marcel, Klaus knew and experienced. The implications of such a thought almost forced her to swallow her tongue. He knew everything. From her low key obsession with him to her face time session with his son.
Every dirty detail of her encounter with his boy was on blast. Fucking, fuckety, fuckery! The tea had left the cup! Her mouth fell open as she longingly reached for a pair pearls to clutch. Had Niklaus really taken over Marcel's body? Could something like that even be possible? Why the hell not? Time travel apparently was!
Niklaus' flawed crystal blue stare filled with alarm as they swung back to her and swept the entire length of her body. Almost as if he wanted to make sure there were no visible testimony to his older brother's claims. And there wasn't, well not if he didn't include the fifty-eleven hickeys which covered her from neck, chest, to breasts.
In the midst of her rapid melt down Elijah carried on. "Now here you appear spouting demands of Bonnie on behalf of your," he waved an indifferent hand at the lifeless girl's body, his mouth slightly twisted in distaste, "concubine. Are you unaware of the many levels of contempt you demonstrate with such an affront?"
"Do not think to come to the defense of the very witch whom has betrayed me, Elijah. For it was she and her devious cousin Lucy who plotted to pilfer away everything I hold dear," Niklaus raged. His deranged accusations crossed her eyes. Was he high? Could vampires even chase the sky? She gave herself a mental bitch slap—stay on topic, Bennett!
"My," Bonnie smacked a hand to her chest in emphasis, "Cousin Lucy?" She gave Rebekah a sideways glance. "Who in the shit break is a Lucy?"
Rebekah's reassuring gaze met yshers before she sniffed. "Nik, are you mad? Bonnie has no knowledge of this so called relative. In verity, you're the only one among us who's even had prior interaction with this supposed Bennett Witch."
Shots from friendly fire forced Bonnie's brow to cock and her antennas in an upright position. "What kind of interaction?" Had Niklaus tossed up her supposed cousin? Elijah was right about his brother's levels of disrespect. Exactly how many ways had he tried it?
"Yes, Nik," Kol joined in as his mouth claimed its signature smirk, "what sort of interaction?"
Ignoring Kol and Rebekah, Niklaus' blazing stare remained trained on her without so much as a blink in the ways of a visual pardon. "You vowed to always stand for me! Was your whispered promise no more than a product of your duplicity?!"
Again with the accusations!
This time his bellowed charges moved her feet forward. Dream her ass! How the hell could he have recalled what she said if the words never crossed her lips. She closed the distance between them, until the toe of her sneakers grazed the toes of his bared feet.
"So you remember me," she stated with a slight nod of the head as she attempted not to feel a way about the half dead chick looking all damsel in distressed in his arms.
Niklaus' blazing glare inched over her face in a slow—as snail shit—regard. By the time his pools of blue crept to her gaze, uncertainty had chipped away most of the seething animosity from his features. "I believed you to be a witch who honored her vows." His voice broke over the word vows, and the show of emotion came straight for her feels.
"I-I am," she assured. Her tone was quiet, while she permitted her gaze to skim over his broad forehead, to the silken smoothness of his golden brows, down the even slope of his narrow nose, until she finally arrived at a full set of cherry stained lips. Except for the bit of hazel (or the devil) which now speckled the crystal blue of his irises, he looked just as she remembered. Fucking flawless. "I said what I said, Niklaus. I'll always stand for you, but what I won't stand for is you handling me like the next bitch or worse…this bitch!" Her magic flared as she jerked her head to the unconscious girl in his arms. "Now you have ten seconds to tell me who Madam dry mouth is before I let go and let my magic deal with all of these issues!"
The chandelier overhead began to swing back and forth. Several pairs of eyes shot upwards to watch the potential threat.
"Bonnie, maybe you should calm the hell-,"
"Stay the shit bricks out this, Stefan! This is between me and motherfucking mine," she said, refusing to back down even when Niklaus' vampire face began to mar the mask of his humanity. A sneer quirked the corner of her top lip. Just who the hell did Cujo think he was scaring? She be damned if she allowed his true nature to intimidate her.
He returned her sneer with a Satan inspired glower. "I'm not yours. Your deceitfulness and cloak-and-dagger conspiring has invalidated that once certain truth." He hissed, before his sparking blood tinged irises strayed to someone over her shoulder. "I've suffered one too many betrayals at the hands of my family. No more! I'd brave the sharpened point of a white oak stake before I'll ever consent to anything other than unquestioning loyalty!" His darkened scowl swung back to her, with the full intention of shading the hell out of her. "A trait you no longer appear to possess. Once the hex on Greta-,"
"Greta, hmph," Bonnie said with a roll of the eyes. She'd had about enough of his verbal grandstanding. He blew loads over reading the dictionary…they got it!
Niklaus' eyes narrowed almost to close lid proportions, before he continued. "Once the hex you and Lucy placed on Greta is reversed your services will no longer be required. For I'll be breaking the sun and moon curse in favor of unraveling the prophecy."
A round of unnecessary air sucking and amplified sighs traveled around the foyer. The way his siblings reacted compelled Bonnie to believe Niklaus' threat was not only old and tired, but it stayed in heavy rotation.
"Then you might wanna hold on to my pink slip, because I don't know anything about undoing any damn hexes," she released the hold over her magic and allowed it to drive him back towards the still open door.
Esther rushed from out of nowhere to stand beside her. "Niklaus, you must believe Bonnie. She's not responsible for Greta's current predicament. Other powers are at work here."
"Lady Mikaelson, Lord Niklaus is in residence," Hannibal said in a slow shaky voice as he wandered into the center of the foyer.
"Yes, Hannibal," Esther forced a polite smile, while inclining her head. "I'm well aware."
"What the hell makes you think I'm responsible for what happened to your side bitch? I didn't even know about her basic ass before you came charging in," Bonnie asked, while ignoring the hell out of Hannibal's ridiculously delayed commitment to household protocol. When he turned to leave, she stepped aside to allow him to shuffle away…slowly.
Rebekah slapped her hands together. "And he's off to the races, gents and chits."
"Inferior form, Rebekah," Finn reprimanded, with an inaudible tsk present in his tone.
"Do not think you can assume the role of the witless with me, witch." The volume of Niklaus' voice soared in attempt to drag their attention back to him. "By doing away with Greta, I'd have no other recourse than to unravel the prophecy."
"Please, you're putting way too much thought into this." Irritation ate her raw. There was no reasoning with him, and his Pittbull stubbornness was beginning to violate her damn nerves. "Besides, y'all came to me with all of this mess! Not the other way around. I could care less about you or your jumpoff. You know what," She turned to Esther, "tell me how to reverse this shitty hex so I can get your over-paranoid son out my damn face, before he make me fuck him all the way up."
"Well," Esther wide eyed stare swept from her to Niklaus and back, "the disengaging of the hex beckons for you to lay hands-,"
"And let's get one dick licking thing straight," she growled through the slits of her teeth cutting Esther's instruction in half, while jabbing her finger in his face. "Once I do this and your girl is back on her feet, I'm done! So you can forget about throwing anymore promises in my face I may have made to a better you in the past, because that shit's done too."
She slammed her hand down on Greta's wrist. An aquamarine glow exploded from the pores of the unconscious witch's body. When her eyes popped open. The bluish-green hue burst from her sockets, while the B etched into her inner wrist began to mend.
When the magic began to fade, Greta stirred for the first time since Niklaus arrived bellowing blood and murder. "K-Klaus?" She whispered as she blinked up at him.
Bonnie's eyes rolled for the umpteenth time. "This bitch here," she muttered under her breath, beforehand adding in a much louder voice, "If anyone other than him needs me, you can reach me at home." And with that said she stomped out of the already open entrance.
"So your entire plan consists of you getting Bennett to fall for your vamp doll?" Damon questioned, as he allowed a skeptical gaze to move over Anna's newborn vampire. He shifted in his chair and the vervain soaked ropes gouged itself deeper into the skin around his wrists and ankles.
Anna folded her arms across her flat chest, as her code brown stare silently dared him to find any flaws in her idiotic plan. "And why shouldn't it? Ben's hot."
Unable to hold the urge any longer, he laughed in her face. "The only way little miss socially unacceptable is going to fall for your progeny is if he trips her."
"Oh screw him! What the hell does he know anyway?" The baby vamp snapped. "He's the dumb ass who got caught."
Baby Vamp's observation clenched Damon's back teeth. The shit stain was right. He'd made the mistake of underestimating Annabelle. Now there he sat with a front row seat to the most basic villain think tank on the fucking planet. Every one of their plans sucked harder and longer than the last. Don't even get him going on their latest blueprinted marvel. The damn idea sounded like every plot from every mediocre teen flick ever made. Anna would never get close to the Bonster if she relied on her pet vamp.
"You're one to talk, Creeper! You want that cave open just as much as I do, yet I haven't noticed you being any closer to the witch than we are," Anna said, before spritzing his face with a spray bottle full of vervain.
He growled through the searing burn, while attempting to slaughter her flat ass by visual means. "That's because Bonnie Bennett not only has a bullshit detector, she's also brimming with magic. Had I possessed this knowledge before our initial meet," he attempted to hunch his shoulders in a shrug, but the movement provoked the vervain ropes to cut even deeper into his wrists, "I'd have a Bennett Witch for an ally, along with her agreement to open that damn tomb. In fact, I'm working on something to place me in the Mikaelsons' inner circle which will in turn put me elbow to elbow with the teen witch."
Anna's eyes rolled. "Please if I waited on you to penetrate the Mikaelsons' inner circle then I'd never see my mother again. Besides," she winked at the baby vamp who returned her wink with a fangy grin. "We've our own plan and you my enemy get front row seat privileges."
As Elijah watched Bonnie seek her leave of Mikaelson House, a thrall stronger than anything he'd ever encountered compelled him to follow. With overwhelming longing he stared at the door as his Tom Ford's Austin Lace Ups shuffled to give chase. However, the burden of being his brother's keeper rooted him to his present location. After releasing a deliberate sigh he spun on his heel to drag his foolish younger sibling to the carpet, only to discover Niklaus also gazed at the entryway with a yearning which rivaled the depth of his own despondency.
"Something is profoundly out of order with you," Rebekah hurled at Niklaus from her place by the stairs. "Must you anticipate treachery and fabrications from everyone you chance to stumble upon?" She leveled him with the weight of a scathing glare, while venturing to stalk ever closer. "Bonnie would never harm your little toy for the sole purpose of betrayal. Possessiveness and jealousy may have a role in such behavior, but never betrayal."
Niklaus' jaw set, and the unmovable clench provoked the muscle to twitch. "You haven't an inkling of the true nature of that little she-devil's character. She's manipulated us all like chess pieces on a board since the beginning." When Rebekah did no more than roll her eyes at his grand revelation, Niklaus swung his crazed glower to Elijah. "The Bennett's are no allies to the Mikaelson's. Their designs are only beneficial to the lot of them. What's their family's vow…they always take care of their own?"
"Edify me, Nik," Kol demanded from his perch on the stairs. He leaned forward to regard Niklaus with a dispassionate bearing. "Does all of your nonsensical ranting equate to you forfeiting your claim to Bonnie? For if I am to spend my eternity without my sorcery, then my consolation will be her."
"Not now, Kol!" Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose, while his eyes squinted closed. He could not with his younger brother. Especially not while he still endeavored to manage the nonsensically paranoid one. "I'm already seeing to more than my share at present."
Rebekah's scrutiny sought and captured Kol over her shoulder. "Once again, you and your wits have parted ways, Kol."
"The little witch will never be unburdened of my claim on her," Niklaus growled through stiff lips. "Not even over my desiccated corpse, Kol."
"Which can most assuredly be orchestrated, brother," Kol stood as his hands opened and fisted at his sides in a perpetually redundant cycle.
"Enough!" The sound of their mother's voice reverberated off the walls of the foyer. "We will not accommodate conflict amongst ourselves! If you seek to engage adversaries then you have no further to look than our front gates!" Her very damning consideration flicked over them all, before descending on Niklaus. "You should settle Ms. Martin in the floral guest room, and then see to your son. He's upstairs in your chambers.
The magical influence which affects his slumberous state will soon ebb, it's your duty as his father to be there to orientate him when he awakens." She then exhaled a long suffering sigh. "The rest of you should seize a moment to reflect upon how you will rid yourselves of the distractions which negatively impacts our thousand year old design." When they lingered a moment longer than they should have, her patience slipped. "By all means, have your leave!" Elijah inclined his head, before turning to zip towards the still open door. "Elijah, wait. We should converse."
Bonnie's anger carried her all the way to her door before it deserted her. The weight of her mounting issues, abandonment being the largest of them all, buckled her. Unable to go any further she sank down on the top step of her porch. How could Niklaus handle her so damn recklessly? Over a new witch? And after all the bullshit they'd shoveled through. He'd even promised to have no other witch that wasn't her. And yeah, she knew it may have all been just a dream, but somewhere deep within the depths of her she believed her time spent in the past had been legit. It had all—in some form, shape, or fashion—happened.
Of course it had happened! Niklaus had known her on sight. Recognition had blazed those crystal blues of his until they burned brighter than a Broadway spot light. So why the hell was he giving her dust like some dry mouth side chick? Her magic snapped, popped, and sizzled the inner lining of her vessels as her anger once again flared. Recharged by a shit load of justified fury, she jumped to her feet. To hell with him and the witch he chose!
She stomped into her house, and climbed the stairs all while muttering nonsense and wishful curses under her breath. "Talking about he'll unravel the sun and moon curse…yeah you do that, and while you're wasting your time breaking curses I'll be getting my back blown out by your brothers…and your sister…stupid ass!" When she reached her room she shoved open the door and flicked on the light. The sight of a bruised and swollen Tyler lying in her bed slammed brakes on her march. "Who in the shit break did that to your face, Ty? Was it your dad?" Her heart attempted to take out her rib cage as she rushed over to where he lay. A shadow darkened his battered features before he looked away. "Oh my menstrual panties! So it was that dick bag who did this to you!"
She stretched out a hand to touch the dark red splotch on his jaw and he curved her by jerking his face from her reach. "It's fine! He's been stressed lately, and I've been fucking up." He shrugged. "My non-stop bullshit sent an invitation to his hands."
"Look at you!" Bonnie magic swelled inside of her, until her lungs had barely enough room to deflate and expand. This cut her air supply exponentially, but she didn't give a damn. She was too pissed to breathe! What was it with old over privileged cock heads who didn't know how to keep their fucking hands to themselves? "You are nowhere near close to being fine?"
"What'd you fucking care?!" He exploded as an unnatural amber light set fire to his normally chocolate brown gaze. A wall of raw musk and a sea of wildness blasted her ass and damn near knocked her to the ground. The hell?
"T-ty?"
He ignored her. "You haven't got at me in weeks! Not since those fucking weirdos came to town."
His explosion of uncalled for feelings and tremoring body parts snatched her head sideways, pulling her focus from the sudden influx of mystical energy. Something about his twitchy demeanor looked hella familiar. "Okay, you need to calm down and peep the picture for what it is and not what you want it to be, Tyler. You and I haven't crossed each other's zones since you began digging in Vicki! And you started taking her down months before the Mikaelsons skipped across city limits. So come at me with facts or don't motherfucking come for me at all."
"I don't care about Vicki Donovan, Bonnie." He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her across his lap.
Her eyes rolled as she reacquainted herself with the brick wall he had the nerve to call a chest. "Yeah, then what do you call what you and her have going?"
"Peer pressure," he whispered, while nuzzling the curve of her neck. "Since everyone else was doing her, why shouldn't I have a turn?"
She elbowed him in the stomach and didn't even receive a grunt on his part for her effort. "See, now that's the kind of thinking that's gonna set fire to your golden showers. But hey, if you wanna take a dive in gonorrhea infested waters because everyone else is doing it who the fuck am I to slide in your way?"
"What do you mean, who the fuck are you?" He withdrew his face from her neck to lock eyes with her. Seriousness and conviction overran his cocksure features. "You're who you've always been to me."
Eighth grade butterflies came back with a fucking vengeance. Everything she felt for him back then came knocking on her heart with more purpose than a Jehovah's Witness. "And who's that, Ty?"
"My girl, Bennett. You have always been and will always be my girl," he murmured before his lips discovered hers. When he moved to add pressure to the kiss, he winced before pulling away.
Her eyes narrowed as her gaze focused on the split in his swollen bottom lip. Which only served to reignite her anger. She reached up and allowed the pad of her thumb to glide across his bottom lip. "This isn't okay. Your face is not his got damn stress reliever! If he wants to decompress he should try fucking his wife more, maybe then she wouldn't be getting her infidelity on with the deputy mayor." She mentally bit her tongue as she swore under her breath. "No offense, Ty."
"I'll live, Bennett," he said with a careless lift of the shoulder.
She shook her head, while climbing free of his lap. "Not if your dad keeps dragging your ass like you owe him money."
"Bonnie, please," he exhaled a sigh that threatened to go on for days. "Can we not go back forth about this right now? I'm really tired and all I wanna do is rest."
Doubt scrunched her face. "Are you sure? Because those look like some pretty vicious head shots. Maybe you should hold off on sleep until you see a doctor."
"I don't need to see a fucking doctor!" He leaned forward to press a panty dropping kiss to her mouth, pain be damned. "All I need is rest and two arms filled with you."
Without even a hint of a warning he snatched her in his arms and cuddled her back to his chest. She struggled to pull away, but his grip was unbreakable and his embrace felt fucking phenomenal. She permitted him to settle them in the center of her bed in a spooning position liked they'd done countless times before over the last four years. It was exactly what her abused feelings needed after being shut down by Niklaus.
After a fifty-eleven minutes of silence, deep breathing disturbed the curls on the back of her neck. She started to turn to look at him, but her phone vibrated in her pocket. She snatched it from her hoodie and glared at the screen. The unfamiliar number which lit up her phone somewhat allowed her to exhale. She needed at least a beat or three to square her mental space before she could deal with the Mikaelsons.
She hit the green button, and then pressed the phone to her ear. "What?"
"Uh, Bonnie?" A female voice questioned.
"Yeah, who's this?" She snapped as she angled her head to glare at the ceiling. She loathed when people acted as if they didn't know who the hell they called. See now this is the reason she preferred to rock with pagers.
"Um, you don't know me, but Jeremy Gilbert gave me your number." The voice paused. "I'm Anna."
Although Klaus' trained his gaze upon a slumbering Greta, another witch consumed his every thought. Every piece and part his brain devoted itself to discerning the current situation in which he discovered himself, while also endeavoring to interpret every syllable of each word which had crossed his little witch's lips during their prior confrontation. And yes, he still considered Bonnie Bennett as his no matter her transgressions. Though, she may have been detached, she remained an undeviating part of him. Much like his hands, feet, and John Thomas. If he'd never incised them for their countless blunders, why would he ever entertain amputating his ever captivating little witch?
Yet, her run at treachery couldn't be excused. How dare she think to plot against him? After all they'd travelled through, one would assume her loyalty had surpassed the limits of doubt. However, she'd allowed jealousy to manipulate her, into being no better than his ever untrustworthy family. Misguided jealousy, if truth was to be professed! Although he cared for Greta, his emotions for his little witch was indisputable and beyond compare. To even attempt to such a fete would be the equivalent of endeavoring to hold the flickering flame of a candle to a raging inferno that is forest fire.
A stirring in the bed tore him from his musings. Without hesitation he abandoned his seat to perch on the edge of the mattress next to Greta. Slowly, she rolled on her back, and then her lids fluttered until her mocha gaze locked with his. Once clarity reestablished itself in the depths of her eyes, she sat upright and wrapped her arms around him. An extended exhale slid from her lips.
"You're okay," she breathed out on the heels of her sigh. "Thank the rightful mother of magic."
"Of course I'm okay, love. It'll take more than a scheming Bennett witch to fail me," he slightly leaned back out of her embrace when a suspicious wetness saturated the shoulder of his Henley. Tears trickled down her cheeks. He wiped away the offending tell of her emotions from her face. "You however nearly took a tumble to the other side."
She snatched an arm from his shoulder to stare down at her wrist. After a moment of assessment, disbelieving eyes arrested his. "The Bennett brand…it's gone," she sputtered as she raised her unblemished forearm, "h-how's this possible?"
"The little witch," The memory of Bonnie's over dramatized exit earlier, forced his eyes to roll. It's a wonder the chit had no aspirations for the stage. "She removed the hex and healed you."
"That's impossible! Even a Bennett witch can't undo a curse that's been cast by another of her line. Not unless she's…" The almond shape of her eyes flared until they became impossibly round. "She's the one, isn't she?" The vibrant caramel tent of her skin lost its glow. "She's the doyenne of the Bennett line…she's the prophesized Bennett."
He tore himself from her embrace and stood to condemn her with a glare. "It doesn't matter. Our plans to unravel the sun and moon curse will proceed."
"But why, when the prophecy is within your grasp?" Greta climbed to her knees and perched herself on her heels. "The prophesized Bennett-,"
"Betrayed me! She bloody betrayed me!" He bellowed from the bottom of his lungs. "The little witch sent Lucy along to coerce my compliance and when the disingenuous bitch failed, the wicked harpy attempted to dispatch you to the other side to ensure I had no other recourse than to unravel the prophecy. So I'm inclined to damn her along with her wants!"
Wide eyed patience composed Greta's quite pleasing features. "O-okay, well fuck her then! You know there is no love lost between me and the Bennett's. If you wanna break the sun and moon curse, then I'm down to assist you in any way I can."
"Then by all means rest up, love." Her unquestioning compliance brought a rather indulgent smirk to his anticipating lips. "When you awake we have doppelgänger to slaughter."
Kol strolled through Damon Salvatore's chambers examining his belongings before discarding them over his shoulder with no care of the value. Where the sodding hell had he misplaced himself? The bugger would pay dearly for squandering his time. Especially, when every cell in his body ached to be with his witch. Alas, her safety took precedence over his lust and comfort. With added determination he resumed ripping Salvatore's wardrobe apart until he came upon a wooden keepsake coffer concealed behind a rack of pointless winter garbs.
Misusing not another minute, he tore away the bolted lid to examine the rubbish within. A tiny portrait of Stefan, Damon, and Katerina Petrova ensnared his focus. The image provoked his eyes to roll. Her affinity to wedge herself between siblings offered homage to all of the mass produced redundancies who came before her. He never could comprehend the allure Tatia and her flighty fellow doppeldoxies held over the human male and vampire population. Sure their lifeblood could increase the potency of a spell exponentially, yet aside from them being a sought after magical ingredient the uninspiring lot was always a bit bland for his tastes.
Underneath the photograph he discovered a bundle of yellowed envelopes addressed to the elder Salvatore from Emily Bennett. His eyes narrowed as he considered the missives. Is this the ancestor to which Salvatore had referred? As he tore one of the correspondences from the parcel the unmistakable click of a crossbow met his ears, and soon after a swishing sound of whittled wood slicing through the air followed. Allowing his original instincts to conduct his movements, he spun on his heel to face the open door of the wardrobe, in time to pluck a soaring stake from the air before it buried itself in the center of his chest.
The culprit eyes bulged from his sockets as he muddled about in an attempt to reload another stake into the crossbow. In tenths of a second, Kol subtracted the distance between them. Once he stood before the slovenly dressed assailant, he knocked the weapon from the human's incompetent hands. He then gathered the front of his wrinkled plaid button down shirt in his clenched hand and slammed him into the wall of the wardrobe, before hoisting him upwards until his feet dangled several inches above the ground.
After taking a moment to scrutinize the reprobates characterless facial features Kol spoke, "Well aren't you vaguely familiar, darling. Don't tell me, I slaughtered your intended in a bathhouse in Amsterdam. Now you're here in pursuit of vengeance on behalf of your fallen would be husband."
"Close," the scent of bottom shelf bourbon saturated the bugger's breath, and seeped rather uninvitingly from his pores, "You're in my World History class, but it's not you I was looking for. My beef's with Damon. He killed my wife and-,"
Kol drove the stake through his heart, effectively pinning the history instructor to the wall. "Many apologies, Mr. Saltzman, but I find your tales of woe even more tedious than your third period discussion. Rest assured however, when my business with Damon Salvatore is concluded know his end will be as glorious as yours. You have my word."
Kol spared a moment to retrieve the letters from Salvatore's rubbish pile. Without sparing a glance to the dangling body of barely functioning drunk, he then pursued his leave.
Bonnie slammed her fist against the cheap aluminum of a motel door. Moments later a short petite Asian girl with delicate facial features answered. She was the quirky type of pretty that chick flicks and raunchy comedies would bust a load to exploit, but Bonnie wasn't a sleazy Hollywood casting director. And she damn sure wasn't there for the fuckery. No she had a jacket pocket full of rocket man and binder filled with an original guaranteed A+ term paper. She wanted this drop over and done with faster than Caroline Forbes could run her damn mouth. After the beating Tyler received from his fuckwad of a father, his mental space was in the dead zone and the last thing he needed was to be there alone.
"It'll be seventy-five for the rocket man and one twenty-five for the original term paper," she said, while glancing up and down the walkway to make sure they weren't being watched or worse, overheard.
"Oh, hey." The girl bobbed her head as she backed up and opened the door wider. "Come on in, while I grab it."
Frustration scrunched Bonnie's face and narrowed her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to waste time by going into an ass crack of a motel room, but if this would move along the drop then so fucking be it. She released a sigh meant for a Shakespearian play, and then stepped inside and closed the door after her.
The girl made a show of searching through the night stand next to the bed while rambling away, "Ohmigod, Jeremy is sooo dope for putting me on with you. You don't know how long I've been looking for a way to bump my GPA, and your hook up with the 'dro doesn't hurt either."
"It's organic homegrown, I don't fuck with hydro," she mumbled, while trying to ignore the upset going on with her magic.
"Yeah, well I heard it's that hella-,"
A crash from a closed door, Bonnie could only assume was the bathroom, cut Anna off. Bad vibes snatched the hair at the back of Bonnie's neck straight as goosebumps prickled her skin.
She whipped her head around to glare full on at the door. "Uh, what the shitty hell was that?"
"Hey, Babe?" Anna held up a finger as she forced a smile that her nut brown eyes refused to commit to. "You good in there?"
"Shit is going off without a fucking hitch in here, Sweets," A familiar voice called back. "Did you get the 'dro?"
Bonnie's eyes rolled. "It's organic-,"
"Almost," She said as she turned back to the night stand, "Have you seen my wallet?"
"In your bag," The voice responded.
"Bonnie, do you mind getting my bag?" She tossed over her shoulder, "It's in the closet behind you."
So who the hell was she now, the maid? Bonnie attempted to let go of her pettiness and spun around to check the closet. She frowned, it was empty save the metal hangers. Another crash and a thud sounded off. She whirled in the direction of the bathroom only to come face to fangs with Anna. Son of a street walking hooker! This bitch was a vampire! Since when?
The bathroom door slammed open and out hopped a bound, gagged, and grunting Damon Salvatore. What kind of super freak show did they have going on there? Anna's clawed nails ripping into her upper arms defrosted Bonnie's stunned motionless state. Bands of aquamarine flares exploded from the palms of her hand and struck Anna in the center of her chest. The force of the blow lobbed her at the far wall of the room. An unmistakable snap and crack, herald the fracturing of the eternal teen vamps neck and spine.
"Annabelle!" A dark haired blur rushed passed her. Ben McKittrick?
"Memett!" Damon garbled out despite the washcloth shoved into his mouth, while raising his tied mangled wrists. "Mum, ie, mme."
"Oh hell no! I'm not untying you. For what, so you can come for me too?" she snapped as she attempted to step around him to the door. "Whatever weird shit y'all have going on around here I don't want any-,"
Before she could finish her rant, Damon shoved her to the side. A mere second after, his bound hands penetrated Ben's chest wall and a tenth of a second after that he stepped back with Mystic Falls' High former star quarterback's dripping heart clutched in his fist. With zero fucks, he allowed the heart to drop to the floor as he managed to spit out the washcloth.
"This is my second time saving your Duncan Hines. You owe me, Bennett," he declared, while serving her with a smirk that oozed self-entitlement.
"Yeah?" She slid from the bed she landed on to regain her footing. "Tell you what, hold your breath and I'll be right back."
"Alright, I'll admit," He hopped in her path, cutting off her exit to the door. Her eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hands further into the air in a mock surrender. "You and I got off on the wrong foot-,"
"Wrong foot?" She chortled. "Your deranged ass put me in a choke hold! There's not a right foot shuffling around on this planet that'll ever make that shit okay. You say I owe you, how about I not substitute your undead ass for firewood?"
Damon's eyes flared at the aquamarine embers kindling at tips of her fingers. He took couple of steps back as if that would be enough to remove his ass from sparking distance. "You're right. Who gives two dry snatches about the past? Not me. Besides, it'll be in both of our joined interests to let go of old shit and focus on alliances that'll benefit the future of our budding friendship."
She scoffed, before marching pass him to the door. "Vamp, be gone with all that fiction you spitting. I'd rather get to know that volley ball from Cast Away before I ever consider you as a bosom buddy."
"Okay, so you don't want to be close, what a fucking relief! Truthfully, I need you as friend like I need vervain in my blood supply. So let me speak in a language you understand. Word is you're rather fluent in tit for tat," he yelled out after her. "Help me save my girl, Bennett, and I'll tell you where to find your mother-,"
She paused, before releasing a laugh which would've had the wicked witch of the west hating from the sidelines. "Please, just stop! Does it look like I give a micro dick fuck about which hole Abby has chosen to rot away in?"
"What about your father? Does his whereabouts interest you?" Damon demanded.
Her laughter rattled to a halt as her magic snatched her around to face him. "Don't do this, Chester. The last place you wanna put your name is on my shit list." Her sorcery swelled inside of her. "If you've harmed my dad-,"
"Harm your dad?" Feigned shock corrupted his lukewarm features. "Why, I'd never do such a thing, Bennett. He's all you have now. I could never hurt you in such a way, but…" his loud blue gaze arrested hers.
"But what?" She ground out.
"Can your dad say the same?" He hopped over to the bed and flopped down. "Have you ever wondered if Rudy the invisible is capable of hurting you? Matter of fact, where do you think Mr. Ghost Dad is right now?"
Her hands fisted at her sides. "Stop being extra and say what the hell you trying to say, cum catcher."
"Oh, I can do you one better, Bennett. Give me your word you'll perform a simple spell to free my girl and I'll show you where your father keeps his dirt and bodies," He raised his bound hands once again, and then wiggled his blood stained fingers. "So what do you say, Bennett? How about you give me your tit for my tat?"