Hellfire | Hayley Marshall

Chapter 36

Eisa was honestly glad that Klaus killed Mikael.

She'd been distraught, sitting in one of the courtyard chairs, drowning herself in some vodka. She'd hardly participated in the conversation that ensued, merely listening to Mikael and Klaus snarl at each other.

And then, the hybrid had pinned his stepfather to the wall, the white oak stake aimed at his heart.

Elijah dove forward to hold Freya back, yanking her arms behind her back. Rebekah clapped her hand over her mouth, watching as Mikael remained still, not trying to throw Klaus off. Eisa cast them all a lazy look, slurping loudly from the bottle.

"You don't seem surprised," Klaus sneered to Mikael.

"Betrayal is in your nature, boy," said Mikael coldly.

"No," said Klaus. "I wasn't born like this. Her, you fight for— lovely Freya, the daughter you barely know. But there was a time where you knew me as your son! A time before all the disappointments, the revelations of betrayal."

Eisa lowered the bottle onto her lap when she realized Klaus was crying. "There were moments when all you had to do was be my father! And even then, you despised me, didn't you? I want to know why."

"I-I don't know," said Mikael softly. "I just... did."

The bottle nearly shattered in Eisa's hands. She stared at Mikael hatefully as Klaus whispered, "Are those your final words?"

The man looked up at his eldest child. "Freya, I'm so sorry. I love y—"

Klaus plunged the white oak stake into Mikael's heart. A father's yells mixed with the screams of his first daughter. Elijah and Rebekah looked away, both working to restrain Freya as she started to sob.

Eisa got to her feet as Klaus stepped away from the burning body. "Viking ash is indeed rare," he muttered. "All you really need is a burning Viking corpse."

He stalked off to his art room, and Eisa followed after him, walking steadily for the time being.

"They're angry," he said, when he sensed her presence. He was on the balcony, downing his own bottle. "Elijah and Rebekah."

"They lost two brothers and their father in a span of thirty hours. They're overwhelmed."

Klaus scoffed. "Yet, you are not cross."

"I'm furious, actually. I hate Eva Sinclair. I hope she's rotting in Hell. I hate Dahlia. I will be filled with such glee when I gouge her eyes out."

He seemed to be waiting for her to say more, and raised his eyebrows when she didn't. "You're not cross about Mikael."

"Of course I'm not. How could I ever mourn a man who said such horrible things to me? I'm almost inclined to be furious at Freya, for crying that way. And yet, I understand that she only ever saw the good parts of him. He wasn't the one who gave her away."

Eisa tsked, shaking her head as she went to stand across from her brother, who was peering into the nearest window— the nursery. He was looking right at Hope's crib, staring at the space where his sleeping daughter ought to be. Instead, she was with Hayley and Jackson in Algiers.

"And yet," said Eisa, drawing his attention back to her, "I wish to be able to loathe her. Did you see that tenderness? Where was it, when Finn and I wished to marry someone we cared for, instead of someone he chose for us? Where was it, when I came out? Where was it, when Kol was learning magic, and just needed some support and encouragement? Where was it, when Elijah and Rebekah simply tried to defend you? He was never even kind to Henrik. The sweetest of us all. The most innocent."