Kol woke the next morning, falling into the same old routine he had perfected over centuries. Wake up, tease his siblings, be told to "behave or leave," and reacquaint himself with the ever-changing modern world. It was a pattern he had repeated countless times before, but something about it felt off today. There was no thrill, no satisfaction in the familiarity—just a hollow sense of going through the motions.
Living in each other's pockets for a century wasn't healthy, that much was clear. Who lives with their grown-up siblings for that long? Sure, their family was a special case, but still—it wasn't normal. Humans, after all, move on. They grow up, find partners, get married (at least for a while), have children, and eventually pass away. Even in the best of marriages, fifty years is a remarkable feat. But most don't even make it that far—many end in divorce after just a few decades or years. How, then, could that model of life apply to a millennium-old vampire? Everything around you withers and dies, while you remain frozen, unchanged. Romance, which humans struggle to sustain for even twenty years, becomes an elusive dream for creatures like him. It was no wonder none of the Original family had ever managed to maintain a centuries-long relationship.
But Kol had found something rare. An opportunity, a chance at eternal happiness with someone who might just be his perfect match—if he didn't ruin it. He craved that connection, a bond that could last forever, one that went beyond the physical, touching the spiritual.
He remembered when he was fifteen, newly declared a man by the standards of society. On the night of a passing comet, he had made a wish—one that he had long since buried in the recesses of his mind. He wished to find his perfect match, someone with whom he could share eternity. They say to be careful what you wish for, and now, a thousand years later, the irony wasn't lost on him. Immortality had been thrust upon him through vampirism, not magic, yet here he was—no longer searching, but finally standing before his perfect match.
Holly had appeared in his life like a whirlwind, shaking everything up at exactly the right moment. He wasn't going to rush it, though. He would take his time courting her, teasing her, making sure he didn't mess it all up.
But first, he needed to work on himself. If he was going to be the man Holly deserved, he had some changes to make.
Point one: Find a place to live without his siblings. It would be hard to woo Holly with his family hovering around, and frankly, it wouldn't be normal. No one in their right mind wanted to date someone who lived with their family—especially not a family like his.
Point two: Shift his priorities. His focus had always been on gaining the attention of his siblings, proving himself to them in one way or another. But now, that focus needed to be on Holly. She was the most important person in his life, and if things went well, they would build their own little family. Kol couldn't help but consider little Teddy, whom Holly had mentioned in passing. Kol assumed the boy would be around. A werewolf and a vampire living under the same roof—what could possibly go wrong? He smirked at the thought, but he was determined not to let his own prejudices complicate things for Holly.
Point three: After a thousand years, it was time to make something of his life. He had spent centuries running with witches, acquiring magical knowledge, and while that had been fine for a time, he now felt like he had accomplished nothing of significance. He should have built something—a witchy empire, perhaps, uniting the supernatural in some way. He could blame his various daggering episodes for slowing him down, but deep down, he knew better. Empires had risen and fallen while he stood on the sidelines, doing nothing but partying, feeding, and killing. He wanted to be more—a man who could leave a lasting mark on the world. His siblings had managed to build a small supernatural community in New Orleans, but that hardly counted as an achievement after a millennium. And even that had crumbled like a house of cards. His siblings wouldn't tell him what had happened, always changing the subject when he asked. A trip to New Orleans was clearly in order.
Point four: His wardrobe needed an update. He glanced down at the trousers—jeans, they called them—that Nik had provided. They were hideous. Why did people in this century dress like peasants? He longed for the clothes of 1914, the last time he truly felt comfortable in what he wore. He would need to find something similar, more suitable to his taste.
Point five: Reconnect with his old contacts. Most of the witches he had known were likely dead by now, but some might have found ways to extend their lifespans. It was worth checking in on a few of them, at least.
Point six: He couldn't afford to be vulnerable anymore. The thought of being daggered again—of leaving Holly alone for an unknown stretch of time—was unbearable. In a surprising twist, the vampire hunter's attempt to dagger him had failed. Now, he needed to research why it hadn't worked.
Anger flared up in him as he thought about the circumstances of his recent daggering. Elijah, the so-called noble brother, had helped dagger him the last time for daring to craft a weapon that could kill Niklaus. And now, Kol had learned that before the ritual that broke Niklaus' curse, Elijah had sided with the Scooby Gang to kill him. Elijah, who claimed to care so much about family, had betrayed him when it mattered most. When he could have stood by his youngest brother, he chose instead to aid Niklaus in daggering him. And Kol had only been revived because Elijah needed him and his siblings to install fear in Niklaus.
In Kol's eyes, Elijah was the biggest hypocrite alive. All his talk about honor and nobility was just a façade, a mask he wore with his impeccable suits. With Niklaus, at least you knew where you stood. He didn't pretend to be anything he wasn't. But Elijah? Elijah had been the one to stab him in the back when it mattered most.
It was a devastating feeling—being shelved, like a child's toy, until someone decided you were useful again.
Kol's list-making was interrupted by the sharp chime of his phone.
"I'll be there in five minutes. If you could greet the girl at our place, it would be appreciated," Holly had written.
Kol quickly changed into a dark button-up shirt and dark jeans. It wasn't his ideal look, but it would have to do for now. He already heard the familiar pop of apparition and, without hesitation, sped toward the rose garden.
There she was, turning toward him, dressed in a form-fitting red pencil dress and black pumps. Her hair was swept to one side in soft curls, reminiscent of an old Hollywood starlet, and her signature red lipstick highlighted a mischievous smile. She was breathtaking. Was she trying to kill him?
If Holly wanted to play, Kol would happily oblige. He closed the distance between them, leaned down to her smaller frame, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary. Out of habit, he gently tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
"Hello, darling."
Holly shuddered in his arms, a rush of heat flooding through her at the feel of his hands on her hips, his scent enveloping her.
"Hello, Kol," she whispered back.
"You look ravishing, darling. Not as good as me, of course," Kol teased, his smirk playful. "But you'll look stunning on my arm nonetheless."
"Did you just suggest that I'm some kind of accessory?" Holly raised an eyebrow, her tone light but challenging.
Kol's teasing expression softened, his gaze turning intense as he stared into her eyes, making Holly's breath catch in her throat.
"As I said yesterday, your beauty is beyond this world. You take my breath away, and I'm finding it harder to keep my hands off you," he said, his voice low and earnest.
"Then don't," Holly responded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kol laughed softly, the sound rich and warm. "I'll keep that in mind for the future," he replied, though his restraint was evident in his words.
Letting her go, he turned so they stood side by side, one arm still casually draped around her waist. "I'd suggest a picnic here in the garden, but I doubt we'd get much privacy from my siblings. How about the bar in town? It's not far. We could either walk—about ten minutes—or drive."
Holly weighed her options. The idea of being confined in a car with Kol so soon sent her pulse racing, but walking in pumps wasn't ideal either.
"Let's drive," she said, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "I want to see for myself if you can actually drive."
Kol chuckled. "I'll have you know, they had cars in 1914. The design might've changed, but the basics are the same."
Taking her hand, he led her to the garage and selected an Audi A7. He opened the passenger door for her with a flourish, then slid into the driver's seat, smoothly reversing out of the garage and heading toward the Grill.
The drive was filled with a charged silence, the kind that crackled with tension. Every glance they exchanged only heightened the electricity between them, and though neither spoke, the intensity of the moment spoke volumes. Holly found herself grateful for the silence—she wasn't sure she'd be able to speak even if she wanted to.
When they arrived, Kol, ever the gentleman, opened her door and helped her out, his hand lingering on hers longer than necessary. He led her inside, navigating them to a secluded table in the back where he'd made a reservation.
As they passed through the bar, Kol spotted Rebekah in conversation with the mayor, likely gathering information on the town's milling records. Good. His sister was already working on the white oak problem. Hopefully, she'd finish before Kol and Holly returned to the mansion.
Once seated, a waiter—not one of the Scooby gang, much to Kol's relief—took their orders. Holly chose wine, and Kol, predictably, opted for bourbon. The moment the waiter disappeared, Kol broke the silence with a smirk.
"Just so you know, this isn't a date."
Holly felt a pang of disappointment. "It isn't?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
"No," Kol said, his smirk growing. "I have far more class than that. When I take you on a proper date, you'll know. It'll be at a fancy restaurant, and you'll be begging me to touch you."
"I already am," Holly whispered, surprising herself as much as Kol.
For a brief second, Kol was taken aback, his usual confidence faltering as he processed her words. His body reacted instantly, a deep, primal desire stirring within him. He was almost certain Holly was still a virgin—there was something unmistakable about the scent of innocence. But her boldness, her straightforwardness, only fuelled his ego.
Before he could respond, the waiter reappeared with their drinks and a cheese board, breaking the momentary tension.
Holly, sensing the shift, discreetly cast a Notice-Me-Not charm and a silencing ward around their table, ensuring they wouldn't be disturbed. Kol, ever the charmer, plucked a grape from the cheese board, his eyes never leaving Holly's as he brought it to her lips. His fingers grazed the soft curve of her mouth, the pad of his thumb lightly tracing the outline of her lower lip as if testing her softness. He lingered there, the grape hovering just at the edge of her lips, but his touch was far more intimate than the act of feeding her. He let his fingers trail across her mouth, teasing, almost as though savoring the sensation of her warmth against his cool skin. When she finally took the grape between her lips, his thumb lingered a second longer, gently dragging along her lip in a deliberate, almost possessive stroke before pulling away, leaving her breathless and wanting more.
"You know, darling," Kol began, his voice lowering to a near-growl as his thumb dragged slowly across her lip, "you're making it almost impossible hard for me to behave, and I mean that in every sense of the word." His hand lingered near her mouth, his gaze flickering with dangerous intensity. "I have a plan, you see. A plan to woo you properly, to prepare you for the full force of who I am. The full madness that is Kol Mikaelson." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as his voice became a sultry whisper. "I know you're innocent, and trust me, you're not ready for what I can give you just yet. Vampires are… passionate, almost uncontrollable creatures. Originals, doubly so. And as much as I've desired others in my long life, I've never craved anyone the way I crave you."
His eyes darkened, a predatory gleam flickering behind them. "I don't think I could be gentle with you, at first, even if I wanted to," he murmured, his hand now slipping down her arm, resting just above her thigh, his touch deliberate. His voice dropped to a husky rasp as his fingers ghosted along the fabric of her dress.
Holly's breath hitched. Kol's words, crude as they were, only heightened her arousal. She was no stranger to suggestive comments—Tom Riddle had plagued her with vivid, invasive thoughts during their horcrux hunt—but those had only filled her with discomfort and disgust. Yet with Kol, it was different. She found herself responding to him in a way she hadn't expected, her body betraying her control.
"So be a good girl," he purred, "and close your legs, because I can already smell your arousal." He paused, letting the words sink in, his breath hot against her neck. "And please… allow me to change the subject. Unless, of course," he added, a devilish smirk playing on his lips, "you want me to fuck you right here, right now, on this table."
Holly felt her cheeks flush crimson, her heart pounding in her chest. His language, his raw desire, it all overwhelmed her, stirring emotions and sensations she hadn't thought herself capable of feeling. She had once believed she might be asexual, given her lack of interest in anyone after the war. But now, with Kol, everything felt different. He was right—she wasn't ready for the full force of his desires.
She considered pushing him further, teasing him just to see how far she could go, but something in Kol's eyes told her he wasn't bluffing. If she pushed him, he really might take her on the table, public place or not. And as tempting as that was, she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
So, for now, she allowed him to change the subject, a coy smile playing on her lips.
"So, darling, I'm absolutely bursting with questions. I hardly know where to begin."
Holly raised an amused brow. "The beginning is usually a good place."
Kol chuckled softly. "Fair enough. First question that springs to mind: where do you live? You know, I might need to know where to start the hunt if you ever decide to run away from me," he teased, but his dark eyes hinted at a seriousness beneath the playful tone.
Holly laughed, a soft, melodic sound. "At the moment, I reside in Geneva, Switzerland. It's home to the only small wizarding community I can actually tolerate. And, just so you know, I can apparate from one continent to another in a matter of seconds."
Kol's smirk deepened. "You'll find, darling, when I'm motivated, I can turn the odds in my favor. You won't escape so easily."
"Unless, of course," Holly shot back, her lips curling into a grin, "a little pesky dagger gets in your way."
Kol pressed a hand to his heart, feigning injury. "Darling, you wound me! Cruel words indeed. You've hurt my delicate feelings. I think you owe me a kiss to make it better."
"Oh?" Holly's lips twitched mischievously. "And how exactly am I supposed to kiss your ego? Besides, weren't you the one telling me to behave?"
"And now I'm telling you to be naughty," Kol replied smoothly, tilting his head and tapping his cheek. "A kiss here would suffice for now."
"Who's bossy now?" Holly teased, but she leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, lingering long enough to leave the faint imprint of her red lipstick. Kol didn't seem to mind one bit.
He savored the moment, eyes gleaming with amusement and delight. Rarely had anyone managed to keep up with his banter, let alone challenge him.
"Now," he said, his tone shifting slightly as he leaned back in his seat, "my second question. What does it mean, being the Mistress of Death?"
Kol chose not to reveal how much he already knew about the Deathly Hallows. He was curious to see how much Holly would willingly share, and how much trust she was prepared to place in him.
"Are you the only one who gets to ask questions?"
"Yes. Five questions for me, then your turn."
Holly sighed, though her lips twitched with humor. "Fine. Being the Mistress of Death means that I command death itself. I'm immortal, and I possess three powerful artefacts known as the Deathly Hallows—the most powerful wand in existence, a stone that allows me to communicate with and even resurrect the dead, and the only true Invisibility Cloak, which will never fade or wear out."
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with something darker. "In reality, I don't often need to interfere. The Reapers handle most of the day-to-day business—collecting souls and guiding them to the realm of the dead. I only get involved when there are... complications. Life or death situations. Like with your mother."
"Ah," Kol mused, watching her closely. "So you possess the most powerful wand in existence, yet you barely seem to need it. It's not the wand that makes your magic so strong, is it? You don't rely on it because your power comes from within."
"I'm not entirely sure," Holly admitted, her gaze thoughtful. "Even before I became the Mistress of Death, I was able to perform simple spells without a wand. But my magic was bound for much of my early life, so I suppose we'll never know how much of my power is innate and how much comes from my connection to the Hallows."
Kol nodded, his mind briefly wandering to Dumbledore, the one responsible for binding Holly's magic. If the old man were still alive, Kol would have been sorely tempted to remedy that problem himself.
"Aren't you a target for possessing such powerful artifacts?" he asked, his tone more serious now. "Surely every power-hungry wizard out there would be after the Hallows."
Holly's smile faltered, and her eyes clouded with sadness. "You'd be right. There's hardly a month that goes by without some attack or another. It became exhausting after a while. My lawyer—Blaise Zabini, a friend—suggested I outsource my defense. I now have a group of assassins and spies, both magical and non-magical, who keep a lookout for any potential threats."
She paused, her voice dropping. "I hate it. At first, I tried to handle it on my own, but the collateral damage was too great. Too many innocent people—magical and non-magical—were hurt. Eventually, I had to swallow my pride and let others step in. It still doesn't sit well with me, but… I hope that, in time, people will understand that attacking me is a death sentence in itself. Until then… it is what it is. Are you ready to start running in the opposite direction?"
Kol could see the mix of fury and sorrow in Holly's eyes and felt an unfamiliar tug of sympathy. He wanted to lift the weight from her shoulders, even if just for a moment.
"Well, darling," Kol said, his grin returning as he sought to lighten the mood, "the next time something happens, do let me know. There's no such thing as too much blood for a vampire like me. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. My record, after all, is sixty people during one dinner."
He watched Holly's face carefully, waiting to see if she would recoil in disgust or remain unfazed.
To his delight, she smiled, not the least bit disturbed. "I might just take you up on that offer," she said.
Kol raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. "Still not ready to run in the opposite direction?"
"Not a chance in hell," Holly replied, her smile growing more playful.
Just then, Kol noticed his sister, Rebekah, rise from her seat and bid farewell to the mayor. Perfect timing.
"How about a break from the questions?" Kol suggested. "Fancy a game of pool?"
"I'm terrible at it," Holly admitted with a sheepish grin.
"I'll teach you." Kol's eyes gleamed with mischief, already imagining the playful teasing that would follow.
As they approached the pool table, Kol's eyes darkened with intent. He explained the basic rules in a low, velvet voice, deliberately taking his time, drawing out each word as though savoring it. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he missed his shot, not by accident but with precision, setting the perfect stage for what he intended next.
"Let me show you how it's done," he murmured, moving behind Holly with a deliberate slowness that sent a shiver down her spine. His body pressed lightly against hers, firm and unyielding, his chest brushing her back. He reached forward, his hands sliding down her arms until they covered hers, guiding her in how to grip the cue properly. The heat of his touch was unmistakable, searing through the fabric of her dress, his fingers wrapping around hers with a possessive familiarity.
His lips hovered dangerously close to her ear as he whispered instructions, the warmth of his breath ghosting over her skin. "Relax your grip... let me show you the right way," he breathed, his voice a husky rasp filled with barely restrained desire.
Kol's fingers lingered, tracing soft, lazy patterns along her hands before he adjusted her stance, pulling her hips slightly back into him, creating a tantalizing friction between their bodies. "Bend lower," he urged, his tone now a silky command. With deliberate ease, he swept her hair to one side, exposing the curve of her neck to the cool air. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin, a fleeting contact that sent sparks through her veins.
Every movement was slow, calculated, as he guided her body into position. His hands slid down her arms again, fingers grazing along her waist before resting on her hips, holding her firmly against him. He whispered more instructions, though the game was clearly not his focus. The proximity, the heat, the way her body responded to every touch—those were the real stakes now.
Kol gritted his teeth, fighting to maintain control as her scent and magic, intoxicating and maddening, filled his senses. His restraint was on the edge of snapping. He wanted her. Now. The tension was unbearable, every inch of his body pressed against hers, throbbing with the need to take things further.
His train of thought was abruptly cut off when Holly took her turn, sinking one ball after another with expert precision. A grin tugged at her lips as she turned to face him.
"You set me up!" Kol accused, laughing despite himself.
"Maybe a little," Holly admitted with a cheeky grin. "But it was fun, wasn't it?"
Kol shook his head, amazed. "You'll pay for that, darling. Later."
"I'm counting on it," Holly replied, her voice low, eyes twinkling with challenge. "Bring it on."
Kol could only grin, shaking his head in amused disbelief. No woman had ever been able to keep up with him like this. Let alone challenge him.
They returned to their table, ordering another round of drinks. Holly, with a practiced flick of her wrist, cast another "Notice-Me-Not" charm around them, followed by a layer of silencing wards. She had deactivated the previous spells to avoid drawing attention while they played pool—it would have been hard to explain to the Grill's patrons why the billiard balls were moving of their own accord.
Just as she finished, Damon Salvatore strode into the Grill, his swagger unmistakable. He claimed a seat at the bar, ordering two glasses of bourbon, clearly waiting for someone.
"I have to admit," Holly said, her tone edged with disappointment, "after yesterday's little adventure, I thought the idiot brigade would stay home, nursing their bruised egos and perhaps their mental scars from their little trip to hell."
Kol smirked, his eyes fixed on Damon. "He's the biggest fool of the lot, love. And judging by that look on his face, he's about to do something catastrophically stupid. Which means a bit of fun for me."
As if on cue, Katherine Pierce strutted into the bar, every inch of her brimming with arrogance. Holly recognized her immediately—after all, it was hard to forget the vampire doppelgänger she'd had the misfortune of crossing paths with in the past. The revealing outfit, thick layers of makeup, and that calculating gleam in her eyes gave Kitty-Kat away instantly.
Katherine slid into the seat next to Damon, downing her drink in one quick motion. She looked smug, almost triumphant.
"Damon, I've got to hand it to you. I was surprised when you called me, asking about a powerful witch who commands Death itself. But I was more than happy to pass along your story to my contact in the wizarding world—Rita Skeeter. Nosy little thing. Anyway, she was only too delighted to print your tale in the national paper. By now, your witchy friend should be up to her neck in damage control back in Britain."
Damon grunted in approval, his eyes cold. "Good. I want her gone. I can't deal with the Originals, or find out who sired our bloodline, if she's hanging around. And Rebekah... she's starting to act strange. She's asking questions about the mayor and old logging mills."
Katherine leaned back, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Your top priority is that witch. Believe me, nothing else will fall into place with her in town. Over the years, I've faced plenty of formidable enemies, Klaus included, but Holly Potter... she's in a league of her own. The girl has a penchant for creative torture, and trust me, she's anything but squeamish."
Damon nodded. "So, is the article already printed?"
Katherine smirked. "According to Rita, yes. It's already in today's morning edition. Maybe your witch isn't aware yet, but she will be soon enough."
"I can't just sit here waiting for her to pack up and leave," Damon muttered. "She needs to go now."
Katherine's eyes gleamed. "Oh, Damon, have I not taught you anything? There's always a plan B... and C, and D. You know how the alphabet works, don't you?"
Damon shot her an exasperated look. "Then show me what you've got."
With a flourish, Katherine produced a thick, leather-bound book and placed it on the table. Kol's eyes narrowed immediately—he knew that book. Holly's autobiography.
Damon looked confused. "What's this?"
Katherine's grin was sly. "This, dear Damon, is everything you need to know about Holly Potter, served up on a silver platter. The idiot wrote a book about herself, detailing every glorious achievement and secret. Took me quite a bit of effort to get my hands on it, too. A few years ago, she thwarted my plan to obtain the Quill of Destiny—an artifact powerful enough to rewrite anyone's life, including Klaus's. Imagine, with that quill, I could have written his death into existence. But Holly stopped me in Berlin."
She paused, her eyes glinting with malice. "I couldn't let it go, so I searched for some leverage. I found out about this book and managed to get my hands on it. Unfortunately, it's enchanted—only magical beings can read it. Draining the clerk for magical blood didn't work, so I compelled the publisher. He told me a few unprotected copies went out to her closest friends and family. I did my research, found the weakest link: Neville Longbottom. Broke into his home, staged a robbery, and killed him. Took some jewelry... and the book. And now, Damon, I'm trusting you with this. But keep it hidden—if she finds out I killed her godbrother, I'm as good as dead."
Holly, sitting just feet away, felt a surge of rage so intense she had to clench her fists to keep her magic in check. Inside, she was a storm of fury and grief. For years, she had hunted Neville's murderer, and now, right in front of her, the truth was laid bare. Once again, those she loved had suffered because of her.
Kol, seated beside her, sensed her turmoil. He, too, was grappling with this new revelation. Holly would be devastated by the knowledge that she had indirectly caused another death, another loss. He also couldn't help but marvel at the fact that, at some point, Holly had tried to protect Klaus. Yet another mystery to add to his ever-growing list of questions. And if he counted correctly, he only had one left to ask her today.
"Kol," Holly's voice was dangerously calm, "how about we give this Kitty-Kat a taste of some old-fashioned revenge?"
Kol grinned, his eyes lighting up with wicked delight. "Darling, you don't have to ask me twice. I'm at your service."
Without another word, they both rose from their table, following Katherine discreetly as she exited through the back door of the Grill. Holly's spells were still active, cloaking them from view. They slipped into the alley unnoticed.
In one swift motion, Kol grabbed Katherine and slammed her against the brick wall, his hand clamping around her throat. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Greetings, Katerina," Kol drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "It seems someone is very upset with you."
"Kol," Katherine breathed, her voice laced with seductive charm.
"Hello, Kitty-Kat," Holly stepped out from behind Kol, her expression deadly. "If I recall, we had a deal. I warned you that if I ever saw you again, I'd rip your throat out. So, what's it going to be, darling? Are you stupid... or just secretly a natural blonde?"
Katherine paled at the sight of Holly but tried to maintain her composure. "Potter, tell your attack dog to let me go."
"Why would I do that?" Holly's voice was ice. "Strike one was trying to kill Klaus and steal a dangerous artifact. Strike two was murdering Neville. And strike three? Selling me out to the papers. So, Katherine... any last words?"
Katherine's eyes darted around, searching for a way out. "Wait! We can make a deal. I'll give you Rita Skeeter."
Holly ignored her plea and turned to Kol, her voice smooth. "Do you want to handle this, or should I show you how it's done with magic?"
Kol grinned. "Darling, don't give me such impossible choices. I am ithcing to kill somthing but I am also dying to see once again you in action doing magic."
Holly smiled darkly. "How about we share? You take the head, and I'll handle the body."
Without hesitation, Kol ripped Katherine's head from her body with a sickening crunch. Before the rest of her could hit the ground, Holly conjured a blaze of Fiendfyre, engulfing the remains in an instant. With a final flick of her wrist, the ashes scattered in four different directions, ensuring that Katherine Pierce would never return.
Holly turned to Kol, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Now... let's go have a chat with Damon."
Holly took Kol's hand, his other still gripping Katherine's severed head, and they strode into the Grill without the protective spells this time, making them fully visible to the bar's occupants. Holly paused just inside the doorway and, with a flick of her wand, cast a sleeping charm on everyone but Damon. He glanced up, startled, as the patrons slumped around him, his eyes widening when he spotted Kol and Holly. His expression paled slightly, though his gaze lingered on their clasped hands, clearly noticing the shift in their dynamic.
"Damon," Holly began, her tone deceptively calm. "Funny thing—my late godbrother misplaced a book I gave him. It's been missing for years. I really must thank you for keeping it safe." She reached across the bar, picking up the familiar tome lying in front of him with a small, satisfied smile.
Damon had no response, his mind clearly scrambling.
Kol turned to Holly, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of mischief. "Darling, you're being ungrateful," he teased, a playful glint in his eye. "When someone finds something precious of yours, it's only good manners to offer a finder's fee."
Holly tilted her head, feigning consideration. "You're right, Kol, as always. And we didn't come empty-handed." Her smile deepened, now sharp and cold. "We brought a little gift."
Understanding her cue, Kol set Katherine's head down on the bar in front of Damon. For a moment, panic flashed across Damon's face as he initially feared it was Elena's head. But his dread quickly faded as he recognized the heavier makeup and characteristic curls—Katherine's signature. Her empty glass still sat on the counter, a morbid reminder of how recently she had been there.
"I'm truly grateful for all your help, Damon," Holly continued, her voice dripping with mock gratitude. "Not only did you help me recover my book, but you also led me straight to my godbrother's murderer."
Damon swallowed hard, visibly unnerved but remaining silent.
Holly's expression darkened as she leaned in slightly. "Just so we're clear, though—calling Katherine and telling her about last night? That was strike one. This," she gestured to the severed head, "is what happens to people who reach strike three. Though, Katherine was kind enough to push things a little further—she hit strike four today."
Kol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Strike four?"
"She tried to flirt with you," Holly replied, her voice laced with possessive amusement.
Kol grinned at that. So, Holly was a little territorial, was she? He could live with that. If anything, it thrilled him to know she'd care enough to get jealous. It also meant she'd understand when he eventually played his own hand—his alpha card, as it were.
Without waiting for Damon's response, Holly and Kol turned on their heels, walking out of the Grill as if they hadn't just left a head on the bar.
As they stepped outside, Holly sighed, her demeanor softening. "Do you mind walking for a while? I need to clear my head. I'm not ready to deal with your siblings and the next crisis just yet."
Kol smiled, offering her his arm, which she gratefully accepted. "Of course, darling. I'll pick up the car later. But what about your feet?" he added, glancing down at her shoes.
"When they start hurting too much, you can carry me."
Kol chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not a pack mule, you know."
"You'll look very manly showing off your muscles while rescuing a damsel in distress," she teased with a playful grin.
"Obviously," Kol replied with mock exasperation. "But, let's be honest, so far, I'm the one who looks like the damsel in distress, with you swooping in to save my life."
Holly's smile faded slightly as she reflected on his words. "Don't worry. I'm a danger magnet. Sooner or later, you'll have to save me, and probably die in the crossfire just like everyone else."
She was trying to keep her tone light, but the weight of her grief over Neville's murder still gnawed at her. She had buried him years ago, but the pain of his loss had never really left. And now, to find out he'd been killed over something as trivial as a book...
Kol stopped walking, gently turning her to face him. He placed his hands on her shoulders, locking eyes with her. "Neville's death is not your fault, Holly. It's on the people who refuse to leave you in peace, who are driven by their greed and hunger for power." He gave her a reassuring smile. "And as for me, don't worry. I've done plenty of reckless, idiotic things over the centuries, and no one's managed to kill me yet. With you by my side—my fierce little Valkyrie—no one stands a chance."
Holly nodded, though she didn't seem entirely convinced. Still, she appreciated his attempt to comfort her, and she decided to change the subject.
"So," she said, glancing up at him with a small smile, "it hasn't escaped my notice that you haven't asked about the book. I assume that means you've already read it."
Kol's expression shifted to one of playful deflection. "I'll take the Fifth Amendment on that one."
"I'm not mad," Holly reassured him. "Every witch and wizard knows my story by now. It's only fair that you get to read it too. After all, I sent a copy to Klaus myself."
Kol blinked in surprise. "You what? Why would you do that?"
"I wanted him paranoid. He had something of mine, and I couldn't find him. So I sent him the book, hoping a connection between us would lead me to him. Unfortunately, it vanished. I suspect he was under the Fidelius Charm, which is why I couldn't trace him."
Kol had an inkling of what "something of mine" might mean, but he didn't voice it aloud. He was enjoying this dance they were doing, this unspoken game of not quite admitting what they both knew. For Kol, there was always time for games.
"It's a shame there's no 'Kol Mikaelson Guide to Creating Mayhem While Looking Devilishly Handsome,'" Holly teased. "It's only fair that I get to read about you too."
Kol grinned. "Darling, a guide like that would explode from the sheer awesomeness of it. But knowing your past doesn't mean I know you. There's still plenty I want to ask you—things I want to hear from you, not from some book."
"Fair enough," Holly agreed. "Ask your next question. My turn after."
Kol's smirk widened. "Do you think I'm handsome?"
Holly let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Really? You're wasting your question on that?"
Kol just shrugged, waiting for her answer. Holly stopped walking and turned to face him, placing her hands on his chest, his hands covering hers in response.
"Yes, Kol. I think you're the most handsome, magnetic, electric person I've ever met. You take my breath away every time I look at you. And when I look into your eyes too long, I feel like I could get lost—and that terrifies me because I think I'd be okay with it." Her voice softened, her eyes never leaving his.
Kol brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on her lips. It would be so easy to kiss her right now, but not here, not in the middle of the road. He had more class than that.
Sensing the tension, Holly broke the moment with a grin. "My feet are starting to hurt."
Without warning, Kol swept her up into his arms, holding her beneath her legs and back. Holly let out a surprised shriek, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. Resting her head on his shoulder, she smiled to herself.
Kol might not be a pack mule, but he certainly wasn't lacking in chivalry.