Revival § Klaus Mikaelson

47

Chapter 47: Brutal Reality

{D. K}

"I see you've helped yourself to dinner," Elijah watched as Dakota dragged two females out by their wrists. Their eyes were wide open and unblinking, proving to the thousand year old original that she had, in fact, killed them.

The brunette lifted the bodies, throwing them into the garage and shut the lid, wiping her blood stained hands on her jeans. "Klaus and I went to look for the stake and came across some witches who got mouthy towards me about how I'm supposed to be the strongest predator, yet I couldn't even protect my own daughter."

"You know that isn't true, right? There's nothing you could've done."

"'lijah, I understand that you're trying to help but I rather you spare me the emotional bits. I'm still a newborn and the really strong emotional phase hasn't passed yet. You get me going on the whole anger kick and I'll be killing more than just two low life witches."

A pause came between them, Elijah just evaluating her stance. Her spine was as straight as a board, shoulders pulled back in her face that no longer held its mischievous glint. Taking its place with hatred and malice for the people who did her wrong. "Is Niklaus aware of your pain?"

"Do you assume that I'm the only parent who possesses it?" Dakota walked up the stairs, Elijah following as she went into the bathroom and started washing the blood off her hands. "Yes, he knows and he's trying to help but we grieve differently. I kill and he plots."

"Has any of my brothers plans been deemed usable?"

Her washing slowed to a halt, the faucet turned down until it shut off. "Yes, actually. For a few months now, I've been helping Marcel create a new vampire army to help us against the witches. We've decided not to turn on the site, we're looking for specific characteristics and they go through a series of tests before they get turned."

"That's reasonable," he agreed, his hands moving to tuck in his suit pockets, his light stubble tracing his jaw. "And what about the stake?"

"I figured that one out today, actually. I asked Marcel to talk Davina into doing a spell to track it, but she refused."

Elijah's brows furrowed, his brown eyes focused on the woman who he was proud to call a part of his family. "How is that helpful?"

She smirked, that small glint showing through. "Because, when I looked into Davina's eyes she didn't look the slightest bit concerned for Marcel's safety, knowing damn well that if Klaus is killed, Marcel dies along with her little friend Josh. So, I concluded that that little wench has had the stake this whole time. Our job is to get it back before she can use it."

The oldest Mikaelson looked impressed at her discovery, but with one door opened another door remained shut. "How do we do that? She doesn't even trust us."

"That's not our problem. Marcel's going to find it and tell us where it is. She trusts him and Josh so they're our best bet." Dakota slid her shoes off, reaching over to hold onto the bathroom door. "We'll get that stake back, even if I have to pry it from her magically dead fingers."

        In a swift move, the door shut in Elijah's face, the steady sound of pouring water declaring the end of the conversation.

•

•

•

        Klaus was perfectly aware of the dangers when he stepped into the witches sacred cemetery that was vacant of any live bodies. The ground was covered thick with a milky white fog that lifted up to Klaus' knees. "I'm insulted," He spoke aloud into the night, knowing full well that there were others they're following the harvest girl that the Guerrera wolves used to protect Francesca. "Usually, the guests are greeted at the door."

        In response, from every corner wolves and witches came out of hiding, blocking Klaus from all sides, their faces different, yet they all shared the same vengeful expression.

        "That's more like it," he nodded, impressed with the amount of people— supernatural beings that gathered to kill him. "Not going to lie, I'm rather disappointed with my brethren from both sides of my lineage that have been tamed by a sixteen year-old girl. Quite pathetic, should you ask me."

        A split form down the crowd of bodies. "Niklaus," The pale teen spoke aloud, her brown haired pixie cut framing her childish features, yet she walked with the confidence of a grown woman. "I've been expecting you." With a simple jerk of her head, she silently instructed him to follow her into a more secluded area.

        Once inside the tomb with her, a pot of tea was offered to him. "I surely hope this wasn't your idea of a truce."
         
         "No, simply an apology for the loss of your child."

         "Was it not your coven that threatened her life?" She ignored his question. "Let's speak of the true issue here though, shall we? I'll start by asking who gave you the authority to continue forging those moonlight rings. "

         "I assumed it was obvious," The teen spoke, her being incredibly relaxed for sitting alone with the original hybrid. "The restoration of balance in our home can only be restored with the alliance of the witches and wolves and we've given them the only thing you wouldn't—freedom."

         Klaus' jaw clenched, his voice was low and raspy. "You have high hopes for being such a young girl."

         "Everything was fine on the earth before the vampires were born. They're a plague, a curse without humanity."

         The hybrid was unfazed by her words. "With your plan, I hope you haven't forgotten that this is New Orleans.  An enemy will always be there, whether it's behind your back or right before your eyes. I hope you can handle that."

          The witch leaned comfortably against the table. "I'm already taking precautions, in fact, I'm taking them as we speak."