The Hybrid King and the Feral

Chapter 6 The Grudge

Klaus growled as he made his way home. His shirt was scorched from being repeatedly hit in the chest by those bizarre glowing playing cards. His hair was a mess after being blown back, and his jacket was filthy from landing on his back in the dirty alley. He stalked into The Abattoir, walked right past Elijah, who was reading, and Rebekah, who was doing her nails, straight to the bar and poured himself a drink. When Klaus finished, he slammed the glass down so hard it shattered.

Elijah, ignoring his brother, suddenly picked up the scent of burnt material and dried blood, then looked at Klaus. When Elijah saw his brother's disheveled look, he sighed, “Dare I ask what happened?”

Klaus turned around and glared at his brother, showing for the first time the red, irritated marks on his chest where Remy's cards had hit him. The injury was healing but a lot slower than Klaus was used to. Elijah's eyes widened, and he slowly stood up, “Niklaus, what happened?” Elijah asked with a concerned tone in his voice.

At his tone, Rebekah looked at Klaus and did a double-take, “What the bloody hell happened to you?!”

Klaus glared at his sister, “I was in a fight.”

Her eyebrows narrowed, “Did you win?”

Klaus's glare intensified, “Does it look like I won?”

Elijah stepped in, “Frankly, no.”

“Yes, it looks like you got your ass handed to you. What's wrong with your chest? Why aren't you healing?” Rebekah asked.

“It is healing, but not as fast as it should be. Damn that Cajun witch,” Klaus grumbled.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, then looked at Rebekah, “I'll handle this, sister.”

Rebekah sighed and stood, “Fine, I was on my way out to get a bite to eat anyway.”

When Elijah was sure that Rebekah was gone, he turned to his brother, “ Now, What witch, Niklaus, what happened? And start from the beginning.”

Klaus sat down on the sofa and leaned back; he hissed as he felt the still healing skin stretch. Klaus then told his brother about his night at the casino and the brunette he had been obsessively following. He told Elijah how she had left with some Cajun gambler and that he had walked her back to her hotel.

“I finally caught him and dragged him into an alley to threaten him to stay away from what is mine. He wasn't in the least bit impressed or afraid of me, even though he knew what I was.”

Elijah stared at his brother with interest. It was rare for people in the French Quarter not to know who Niklaus Mikaelson was, let alone not be afraid of him, “Then what happened?”

“As I was about to kill him, the Cajun's eyes suddenly glowed red, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a deck of playing cards.”

Elijah looked at his brother, confused, “Playing cards, why?”

Klaus sighed in frustration, “I'm getting to that, brother. The deck suddenly began to glow red, and he started launching them at me like little explosive projectiles. The man would hit me dead in the chest, and I could feel my clothes and skin burning. With every card that hit me, he would push me further and further back from him. Suddenly he twirled his walking stick, slammed it on the ground, and caused an explosion large enough to throw me onto my back. When I finally sat up, the Cajun was gone, and I couldn't find him.”