ACHILLES' HEEL ▷ KOL MIKAELSON [2] [COMPLETED]

𝟎𝟐. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄

(CHAPTER TWO :
THE CURSE)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

WITH GREAT RELUCTANCE, KOL and I visited a witch in Tapolca. It was a small town in Hungary and it was where he offered his healing abilities to a wounded nineteen year old in the eighteenth century. Since then, the line of 'Dobos' witches — of whom the boy he saved was descended from — had been indebted to him. In truth, I didn't want to visit the witch. I encountered a handful of witches in my time and they had left me with a vendetta. Of course, Bonnie Bennett was an exception, but even she had her moments I was not fond of. During the majority of the car ride, I argued against the visit, to the Original's disapproval. He didn't know why I didn't like witches and thought I was being difficult on purpose.

Her name was Amira Dobos, according to Kol. He pestered me to behave because the feeling of distaste between vampires and witches tended to be mutual in most cases. Naturally, he was excluded from that narrative because he admired witches and had connected with many covens over the years. For the most untrustworthy being, he was respected by most of the witch species.

"I think we should do dear Amira a favour and redecorate her house. Maybe paint it a lovely shade of red." I proposed, glaring at the woman's home. Both of us were stood outside and I, for one, was unimpressed. In front of me was a quaint looking home — it was too picturesque, too perfect. It had a white picket fence surrounding a well-maintained flower bed, red bricked walls that didn't contain a single scratch and an array of uplifting quotes hanging on her door. The entire house was terribly cute and I had the urge to ruin that.

"Witches can be touchy little things." Kol warned. "I'd recommend being nice."

"Shame, I'm in the mood to kill somebody." I informed him with a casual tone that was misplaced by the dark words. "I'm not sure I can play pretend after you locked me in the car for two hours. Witches may be touchy, but I have fangs." I recalled ominously.

"You're stellar at pretending to abhor me — channel those acting skills here." The Original advised, confident in his claim. I would even admit that it took me by surprise that he detected deeper emotions on my end. 

I rubbed my lips together in annoyance, he knew me too well. "I do abhor you." I corrected. "But, I'll . . . behave . . . because the thrill of the hunt doesn't sustain my lifestyle, unfortunately." I backed down in defeat. I didn't know a witch other than Bonnie Bennett — whom I had put behind me alongside that wretched town — and I was curious as to why I couldn't keep blood down. As a vampire, blood was a necessity and that meant I would have to tolerate Amira Dobos if I wanted to survive. Although I never experienced the process desiccation, it didn't appear pleasant.

"Good girl." He praised, condescending as ever. Content with my obedience, he hooked his hand around my wrist and pulled me towards the door, knocking on the door twice with his free hand. Perhaps the most annoying limitation of being vampire was the invitation required to enter homes. In another set of circumstances, I would have the stormed the household and threatened the witch.