Hellfire | Hayley Marshall

Chapter 44

It seemed they were hammered.

"Greetings!" called Lucien, dragging forward two of the women (one was dressed a skeleton bride, and the other merely had on a fuschia corset and wig with a mask over her eyes).

"I'm ready for my medication," said Klaus loudly, his arms around the other two women (one was dressed as a nurse, the other as a cat).

"My god," said Lucien, looking around drunkenly as he pulled the women forward. "It's a room full of Elijahs and Eisas."

"I had that exact same nightmare once!" said Klaus, making the women laugh hysterically.

Lucien leaned onto one of the women, who had on a fuchsia corset and wig. "Go and grab us a drink, love. Feel free to fetch one for yourself."

"One for me, please!" Klaus slurred. "And one for her, and her, and her, and her....

"Tristan!" Lucien taunted. "Tristan! Come out, come out, wherever you are. Unless, of course, you're afraid."

Tristan patted Eisa's hand. "I'm sorry, please excuse me." He walked up to them, forcing a smile and pressing his fingertips together. "You should, uh, move along. You're not welcome here."

"Oh," said Klaus, pretending to be offended. "Oh, okay. We're— we're not welcome here." He plucked a glass of champagne from the nearest platter before walking up to Tristan. "Or maybe you should move along before I make you cry in front of all your little friends!"

Tristan looked amused as Klaus laughed, walking deeper into the party. "My concern is for your companions. They appear out of sorts without a shiny pole to writhe upon."

"Ohhh," said Lucien, looking at the women, "he's suggesting that you're exotic dancers! Which, to him, is an insult—" he gestured to the burlesque dancers, "if not hypocritical. But, don't take it personally, love." He walked up to Tristan. "He finds all work demeaning. The only dignified way to accumulate wealth is by birth." He extended a single finger and tapped his nose, saying, "boop!"

Klaus found this very funny, and started to laugh heartily as Lucien asked, "Isn't that right, Tristan? Hmm?"

Both Elijah and Eisa stepped forward. "Niklaus," said the older brother sharply.

Klaus stumbled toward them. "What is it?"

"You reek of alcohol," said Eisa, scrunching up her nose, holding his shoulder to keep him from falling. "I don't think I've seen you this drunk since the thirteenth century. Perhaps you should be making your way to your bed to rest."

"I'd rather not, mother," said Klaus, giggling and going to Elijah, who kept him from getting any further.

"Take your playthings with you when you leave," suggested Elijah.

Klaus made a face, shoving his champagne glass into Elijah's hand, before walking into the center of the room. "You know, I used to find it insulting that I was barred from your special little club. But now, I realize that I lack the flexibility to become a member— I could never get my head far enough up my own ass." He laughed, bowing dramatically at the sound of his companions' laughter before walking back to his siblings.

Elijah offered him the champagne glass, and Klaus took it, downing it in one gulp.

and taking the glass back from Elijah before downing it in one gulp. "Cheap," he noted, motioning for Lucien and the women to follow him to the door. "Come on. Let's go. This party's dead anyway." He started to laugh once more, leading the others out.

Eisa watched them all leave, shaking her head and casting her brother a look out of her peripheral vision.

Klaus had been faking. Eisa knew how he got when he was drunk, and that was certainly not it. Not fully.