A/N: Hello, hello!

Here we are again and I'm so sorry for my long, very long absence. I do have several reasons, all of them good, but I know that won't make the wait any less annoying. It sucks when you follow a story and it takes close to forever for someone to update. I do actually know how that feels. Anyway, I hope to change that from now on. Updates will be back to updates once a week. Although, they might revert to once every two weeks, once I reach chapter fifty.

Anyway, I wanted to thank all of you so much for your patient wait and for your continued support! I'm very happy!

Enjoy and like always, and like always, let me know what you think!

Lots of love,

Anna

o.O.o

Chapter Forty, the Burning Jungle

Klaus' hair glinted golden in the shafts of morning light that came through the half-open blinds of the kitchen windows.

A fresh-smelling breeze came in from the partially open backdoor and the sun was warm against the back of my neck.

If I said something wrong this morning, it would probably be the last time I would feel the sun or smell the early spring air and my shoulders locked together, my hands trembling.

"Klaus—"

I'd watched the man walk towards me, holding himself so straight he almost looked as if he glided across the kitchen. For a moment the urge to take the frying pan off the stove and slam it in his face was all overpowering, then common sense kicked.

"What— how?"

"You don't look well, luv," he remarked casually and I wondered how far I would get if I ran.

"I—"

His face swam in and out of focus and my heart was thumping. Honestly, with my vision shifting perilously, everything around me looked the way things do in dreams; ragged and somehow slightly askew.

The last time I'd seen him, his fangs had sunk in my neck. My blood already cooling when it trickled down the angle of my throat. I remembered the ring of fire blazing around us— And now he was here. In my kitchen.

It took me a moment to get my reactions under control and when I finally did, Klaus still looked at ease. He'd settled against the window sill, hands spread out on the ledge and I just couldn't understand how he'd managed to get inside. Which I must have voiced out aloud for his smile was smug.

"Getting invited inside, isn't that difficult, Luv."

"Right."

He pushed back from the windowsill, crossing the kitchen, his shoulder brushing mine, and busied himself with the eggs and bacon before it burned. "I must say, you don't look surprised I'm here, Sweetheart." He decided and I watched the surreal image of Klaus Mikaelson turning the bacon with a confounded expression. "Scared, but not surprised."

"I'm not," I agreed.

He turned to me, still smiling, but it didn't reach the tundra in his eyes. "My knowledgable little Doppelgänger, it figures you're not surprised."

"Are you preparing my last meal?" I drolly remarked, my hands had gotten cold.

"Hm, I did consider tearing your pretty throat out— letting you bleed out slowly."

"But you're not."

"I figured you'd like to try and negotiate with me, before that."

I pursed my lips, eyelashes dusting over my cheeks as I considered my next move. Elena Gilbert would have wanted to negotiate her situation. Yet, she always rubbed him the wrong way.

He wanted to play with me.

I supposed it might be the monster that hid behind his polished human mask. The monster that demanded the world to bend to his will, or he'd tear it apart with his bare hands. It was a dangerous task. But I had done it before. I could do it again.

"Oh," I tried, forced my heart rate down and sat on one of the stools, "and you're cooking?"

"You seemed to appreciate it before."

"I haven't had a decent meal in a while." I muttered. I couldn't remember when he'd cooked for me before, if ever. I hadn't even known he could cook and the surreal image of Klaus with a rose-colored apron flashed across my mind.

"Hm," Klaus agreed, his smile cold, and so very dangerous.

Sucking my lower lip between my teeth, I raked a hand through my hair. It was wild, a curling mess and it felt as if I'd stuck my fingers in an electrical outlet. I dropped my hand self consciously, let my eyes glide through the kitchen again. There was nothing there to help me and when I looked at Klaus again, I caught him watching me. I licked my lips. "How did you get inside?"

"Your aunt invited me in," he smirked and tapped his fingers against the table, "Jenna right?"

"Yes," I admitted, wringing my fingers into the hem of my shirt.

"Nice gall," he grinned. My fingers bunched into my shirt. I was sure Jenna was on vervain. I was sure she understood and knew all that there was to know about vampires. She knew she shouldn't invite anyone in, so how—

"How did you get in?" I tried again. "My aunt knows not to invite anyone in. She's on Vervain."

"She was on Vervain, Sweetheart."

She was on vervain. I thought it took about a day to get it out of your system, so—

"How long have you been in Mystic Falls?" I breathed out, feeling the blood sap from my face.

"I do so like your mind. You're so quick on the uptake." He smiled.

"But if you've been in Mystic Falls— for a while than why—"

"Are you still alive?" He finished, "I must say, I was rather upset when I'd learned I gifted you with your life when it needed to be ended. When I quelled the urge to come and rip you limb from limb, I could look at you with a clearer mind." He said, smiling and stepped well into my personal space. It took everything of me not to step back and I ground my teeth together. "But what upsets me the most, Luv, is that I think you knew about that and you didn't tell me. Why?"

"I—" I tried to think about the ritual, frowning, and dug my nails into my palms. The next words that came out felt robotically, escaping my lips almost without conscious thought, "—I can't talk about it."

"Bloody hell," he whispered, a strained sort of laugh escaping him and he turned around. His right hand curled around the kitchen table and a tremor moved through his arm. The table shook, wood splintering off. "BLOODY FUCKING HELL!"

He turned towards me like a raging storm and this time I did back up until my back hit the wall, my eyes widening until my forehead started to ache.

Flight took over and I turned towards the exit, my hand clamping around the doorjamb, but before I'd even taken one step into the hall, Klaus had hauled me back by the back of my neck. I stumbled and I flailed my arms until one hand found purchase in his blond curls. My back hit his front and I froze.

I wasn't proud of, but was helpless to stop it, as my shoulders and knees locked and my fingers froze around the silky strands of hair. It wasn't unlike that one time when I'd found myself back in my own body, as nothing more than a specter and I couldn't make my body to move.

This was it, wasn't it? I'd worked Klaus up without even trying and now I was going to get killed.

Fingers, hot and insistent, pushed into my chin, forcing me to face him. My back was still trapped against his front, his left arm wrapped around my shoulders, the fingers on his right digging harder and harder into my chin. His gaze was shrewd, boring into mine, "You will remember now."

"Wha—"

I hadn't been prepared for the explosion of pain at the base of my skull, nor the pounding behind my eyes. My vision spun, acid lurched alarmingly in my stomach and I tasted red wine at the back of my tongue. Klaus was still in front of me, fingers around my chin but— he'd been behind me a second ago. I'd been feeing better a second ago as well and my tongue felt weird in my mouth as his fingers ghosted over my cheek. He reached into the pocket of his pants. A moment later something cool pressed against my hand and I realized belatedly I was reliving a memory. One of my own.

The images played out behind my eyes, the Gilbert kitchen having faded away around me and instead of morning, evening had fallen. I slowly moved my head to the glass vial Klaus had pushed into my hand, the clear liquid sloshed inside as I moved it to inspect it closer.

"Elena," Klaus sighed, yanking my head up to meet his eyes, his pupils dilating, "you will not remember this."

"I will not remember this," I echoed dumbly.

"Unless I tell you otherwise."

"Unless you tell me otherwise," I echoed again.

"You will drink this. You will drink it all in one gulp and you will not talk about the sacrifice and what is needed for it again."

"I will not talk about it again."

"Even better yet, stop thinking about it. Perhaps than you lighten up a bit."

"Stop thinking—" I whispered pressing the vial against my lips and downed it in one go.

The drinks was musty, scale and rather disgusting, but I swallowed it down. The now empty vial slipped from my fingers and Klaus nodded solemnly. He snatched my arm and than he was a blur of movement. We were a blur of movement through the dark house and— then the spell was gone. The Gilbert kitchen came into view again and I became acutely aware of Klaus' warmth behind me.

He pushed me forward suddenly, letting go of my shoulders and I sunk to my knees, fingers curing into my hair. The memory replayed over and over, although now I wasn't reliving it. I remained in the here and now thankfully. The memory was mine in one way, while not mine just as much.

Swallowing the row of swearwords, I forced my breathing to even. I felt violated in so many ways. What was it with everyone, screwing with my mind? First Sheila, than the Martin witches. Of course, there had been Damon, but by then I'd been on Vervain and any command he'd given would have slid of me like water.

"You compelled me," I whispered.

"I wanted no surprises the day of the Sacrifice."

"Why not compel my secrets then?" I snapped getting to my feet. I marveled at the fact that my muscles were working at all and pointed my index finger at him. My heart was beating so furiously that I was half-convinced it would burst free from my chest. "Apparently, you were not so above it as I'd thought!"

"Take a seat, Elena," he said slowly, motioning for me to sit down at the kitchen table.

I shook my head, "No!"

"Careful, Sweetheart," he whispered, dropping his hand on the table, looming over me.

"I am, you're just— quick tempered. It isn't my fault you combust like a bomb without barely even a spark!" I screeched and flailed my arm at him. "You thought I wouldn't have wanted to discuss everything with you? You never gave me the chance— I—" I inhaled sharply.

It wasn't completely true. I hadn't known how to discuss the aftermath of the sacrifice. How to bring up the required blood to change his werewolves into hybrids and still walk away with a fair enough deal.

Exhaling slowly, counting to ten, I wondered how far I should be pushing him. Klaus was a Werewolf. A vampire perhaps, but he was a werewolf as well. A hybrid even— and he could shift at any time, at any place. I knew strong emotions could be a trigger to shift. Just as strong emotions could trigger a temper tantrum like Damon was prone to throw.

"Tantrum temper done, sweetheart?"

"I want to make a bargain."

"Of course, you do."

"I know what your werewolves need to be turned. I know what is wrong, and I will tell you, but—"

"—Want to live and keep this town save, yeah, I know what you want, Darling."

I growled, "No, I want to be free. Free, I don't want to be some bargaining chip, or have anyone, and I mean anyone dictate my life. I want to have a life. Decide on what I want to do. Get a job. Go to college. Perhaps even have a family of my own. I want to be free!"

"So you wouldn't mind if I went on a killing spree, starting on your mother?"

"No— I— of course, I mind, but— for God sake, I help you with your little dream of an army, and I have information that you will want to know. However, I want you to let me make my own choices without compelling me. I want to be in charge of my life— not you. And I want you to lay off of the towns' people. I know I'll never be able to keep you from hurting someone. But— I don't want any unnecessary bloodshed."

"We could also turn this around. I go off onto a blood-binge or you tell me what I want to know."

"Than I won't tell you about your dad!"

He faltered at that, exhaling out slowly and I wondered if pushing this venue was that good of an idea. Right now, his anger wasn't wild and consuming, but it was still sharp and ruthless. I saw his eyes flicker with the beginnings of rage and inhaled deeply.

"I know some basic things about your dad— stepdad, but I know something important too."

"And how Sweetheart, will that fix the problem with my hybrids?" He asked her, faux pleasantly. "Because from where I am standing, your death is the one thing that will fix that."

"It won't but I'm getting there… I tell you how to fix your hybrid problem. I will, but I—"

"Very well, if the information is good enough, your conditions will be met and you can be a vampire living your life the way you want—"

"You would regret doing that—" I muttered and tapped the blue veins on the inside of my wrist.

"Are you offering me a drink?" He purred and I almost gave in to the urge to wave the frying pan at his head.

"No, stupid, you need my blood when they're in transition." I snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, still okay with me being a vampire?"

He had gone as pale as a sheet and for a moment I thought I'd finally pushed him too far. God, I should have gone into law. At least then I knew how to negotiate with someone and use a bargaining chip more expertly. "And what has that to do with my father?"

"He's out and about and I don't think he's prodding werewolf colonies." I muttered.

"That's your grand idea to get me to—"

"Oh no," I shook my head and in a moment of bravery met his gaze, "I've got something better."

"Well, sweetheart," he whispered his face a lot closer than it had been before, "spill."

"Not before you agree to my terms," I huffed.

"If it is as good as you believe, than by all means. I will grant you your freedom and liberty. For, say a monthly donation of blood. That is of course, if you are being truthful. If you lied to me than I'll start sending you loved ones your limbs before ending them." He said leisurely, another easy grin tugging at his lips. He thought he was in control. Arrogant arsehole—

I ignored his threat, crossing my arms over my chest and cocked my head to the side, "No," I disagreed, "every three months, it is unhealthy to donate blood every month."

He grimaced. "This better be good."

"I know how to get rid of your dad."

At first, I expected him to go for my throat for the sheer audacity of dropping this bomb on him. Instead, however, he straightened up and cocked his hip against the table, as if he didn't have a care in the world. I didn't buy it, not for a second, and held his gaze unblinkingly. I wasn't sure how long we stood like that. It might have been a few seconds, it could have been minutes, but finally Klaus' features sharpened and the fake smile left his face, replaced by a deep, dark look I couldn't describe even if I wanted to.

"You have a dagger, Sweetheart? Don't you think I've tried that before?"

"I've got the next best thing," I responded.

He stared at me through his blond, unruly hair, his cheeks flushed and I stared back. For some ungodly reason it took a few seconds for him to make the connection. "You have a white oak stake."

"I know of one," I admitted. How I could have forgotten about the Wickery Bridge sign made out of white oak wood? Now that I'd remembered it, I could picture the episode where Damon, Alaric and Stefan sharpened twelve stakes out of the bridge's sign quite well. The only thing that could kill an Original and it was still standing in front of the bridge where Miranda and Grayson should have had their accident.

"Ah, yes, your leverage."

"It is good, isn't it?" I responded almost eagerly.

A smile pulled at his lips. "Yes," he agreed and somehow his expression left me breathless. "It is good."

"Of course," I agreed.

"Have to check it, of course," he grinned.

"What?"

He snatched my wrist so fast, I barely even saw him move. He blurred out of existence, nothing but a hazy shape, but a second later my back hit the table. He pinned me to the table and my vision was dotted with black for several seconds.

Horror pulsed through me when his face changed, veins littering beneath his eyes. I whimpered when he yanked my wrist to his mouth, fangs glinting in the morning light and I gasped in pain when they sank into my soft flesh. He took several long gulps before allowing the blood to drip on the table. It gushed down the pale inside of my wrist and into a tall glass he had maneuvered beneath it. I watched it as it dripped down, leaving dark trails on the rim, the blood a strong reminder that I was having a discussion with a creature who could be lethal.

"G-get of me!" I gasped, trying to wrench my hand free. "What's the point of this anyway?"

"Just as I remembered," he smiled, teeth pink with my blood.

"Way to be creepy," I gasped, a spasm running through my arms.

"Now we only have to find a werewolf," he said, cleaning his lips with a flick of his tongue.

"What?" I whispered, something acidic curling my insides painfully.

Klaus smiled again, swirling the glass between his fingers and stepped back, letting me up again. He looked utterly unconcerned and I brought a trembling hand to my chest. Perfect red lines tracked across my skin, sliding in rivulets down my wrist and dripped between my fingers, spotting the floor with crimson. I felt slightly light-headed.

"Clean that up, Luv," he ordered and I nodded.

My heart raced in my chest, but I tried to appear cool and collected. Slowly moving to the sink, I wetted a dishcloth, dapped the blood off before hastily putting some Band-Aids on. The bleeding had already slowed and I bit my lower lip hard.

"What did you mean, a werewolf to find? We have a deal, Klaus."

"Hm, yes," He agreed and hearing him agreeing made me feel the tiniest bit better. "We do now."

I opened my mouth, about to demand what he meant with that, when there was a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat and I shot Klaus a fearful glance before hurrying to the front door. Pulling the door open, I was already preparing myself to scare off a nosy neighbor when I froze.

It wasn't a nosy neighbor. I'd have liked it better if it actually was a nosy neighbor, instead Klaus' sister stood leisurely on the porch. Rebekah Mikaelson had long, blonde hair. She wore it straight, her skin pale and from up close I noticed the freckles on her cheeks. I hadn't when I'd watched the series.

Cold dread settled in my stomach and I eyed her with trepidation. For someone who had been in a box for almost a century, Rebekah had easily adapted to the new time. Dressed in a cute purple dress with a v-neck and a fluttering hem and a fluffy yellow coat and brown boots, she looked like a fashion model straight from a fashion magazine and I felt my fingers curl tightly around the doorpost.

"Hello?"

"So you're the newest Doppelgänger?" She drawled sarcastically. "The last one was prettier."

I shrugged. I got the impression she had not been invited in. "I think I'll survive." And with that slammed the door in her face. It was petty and of course, it didn't work as Klaus wrenched the door open again. With a sharp nudge he pushed me out onto the porch.

"That was rude," she sniffed and I squinted in the harsh sunlight.

"Says the girl insulting me," I grumbled back. I wondered if my nerves were over-stimulated. I had no different explanation for why I wasn't more terrified for this new Original addition. After all, Klaus' younger sister was just as much of a psychopathic toddler as Klaus was.

Yet, instead of panicking the way I had inside the house, my heart rate remained even. I wondered distantly if this was what it felt like when you were disconnected from your body after trauma. Klaus observed me with a small furrow between his eyebrows, head slightly tilted to the side. Whatever that had been inside his eyes disappeared

"Elena, sweetheart, I'd like for you to meet my sister, Rebekah," Klaus introduced, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tappings his fingers against my upper arm. Personal space still seemed a no-go around him. "A word of warning she can be quite mean."

"Don't be an arse," Rebekah drawled, rolling her eyes at me and I let my eyes flit from her to Klaus.

"Come on, luv," Klaus grinned, pushing me down the front steps. I was still barefoot.

"Where are you taking me? We have a—"

"Yes, we have a deal, I am aware, Elena." He drolly replied and dragged me down the pathway and up on the sidewalk. "And once I'm sure you're earnest, you get it."

"That was not—"

"So demanding this one, Nik," Rebekah yawned and blurred forward, stopping next to a black SUV.

"You are demanding indeed."

"You agreed with me."

"And I am verifying now," he said, grinning. It looked devilish.

Something cold and unmoving dropped into my stomach. This was bad.

To be continued

A/N: I think I've mentioned it before, but my mom's been sick and most of my time has been going to her, school and all the other things that must happen. Next update; upcoming Friday or Saturday (The next chapter is pretty much done, so I can make this promise).

As always let me know what you think! I think many of you are happy he's back... And we have the additional pleasure of Rebekah (who I always kinda enjoyed).

Lots of love,

Anna