White Blood | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter Twenty-two

1952 — Putnam County, New York

   It was those moments when she was with Klaus that Eleanor Fraser knew that she was going to die. Those moments with him weren't ordinary, even when the most ordinary thing happened. Each moment with Klaus was like a firecracker exploding in an enclosed space, fireworks going off inside comfort and burning everything down. Klaus Mikaelson was drinking fire and praying it didn't burn; he was walking into the ocean without knowing how to swim and hoping not to drown.

   The young vampire let out a groan as the ropes wrapped around her continued to burn. It was a constant burn, causing her arms to shake and her to lose focus every now and then. The werewolves that captured her—Christine, Perry, and Rodney—had made her drink water with a potent herb that caused her insides to burn and blood to rise. Then, they had poured that water on the ropes they tied her with around a tree. At that moment, Eleanor Fraser knew that the only way she could get out was if Elijah and Klaus decided to actually save her. But, she knew better. Klaus would never sacrifice his safety for her, and he wouldn't allow Elijah to do so either. 

   "Do you think they'll actually come?" Rodney asked as he paced back and forth. He stopped in front of the fire in the centre of the small clearing and stared at Christine. "It has been a whole day. What if they don't?"

   "We'll kill her," she answered with calmness.

   "We're playin' with fire, Christine," Perry breathed, running a hand through his head. "You want us to go against two Original vampires who can kill us with a snap of their fingers!"

   "It's the full moon!" Christine snapped, her dark eyes appearing like burning scales of a snake with the fire shining in front of her. "You know another weakness of vampires other than the sunlight?" She stood straighter, appearing mighty with the large shadow behind her. "Us. We are a weakness—no, a danger. We are dangerous to vampires."

   "Only during the full moon," Eleanor croaked, her eyes focusing on the mighty Christine. She had heard tales of the werewolves from Klaus and Elijah, about how their bites were dangerous and how they were only dangerous during the full moon. "You are nothing every other day of the month."

   Christine walked up to her and grabbed her by the air. She let out a hiss and glared up at the woman, who simply stared into her eyes. "You're rather feisty for someone who's going to die."

   Eleanor let out a throaty laugh filled with the burning pain, amusement laced in her voice. "Do you want to know what I'm good at?" There was her voice, the one she had always been afraid of letting out. At that moment, she wanted to be heard, to frighten instead of being frightened.

   "Killing people," Perry said. 

   Eleanor glanced at him with a wicked smile before looking back at Christine. "I'm good at getting my revenge," she boasted. "I'm terribly great at murdering those who hurt me, those who threaten the people that I care about."

   "Hmph." It came from Perry, who had come closer with his arms crossed. He stared down at the young vampire, dark eyes glistening with the fire. "You're all talk, dolly, but you ain't all act."

   "Did she—" she pointed at Christine with her chin, "—ever tell you how I killed Nanette? I tortured her until she couldn't take it anymore, until she took her own life." She kept her eyes on Perry, wanting him to fear her. "I could do the same to you."

   The man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Like I said, you're all talk." He turned and walked away, going towards Rodney. 

   Christine, on the other hand, tightened her hold on Eleanor's hair. She made the girl look up at her, menacing dark eyes that reminded the young vampire of melting metals. "Do you want to know who I am?" the woman asked, her tone dark and filled with venom. "I'm the great granddaughter of Nanette Passebon. You shouldn't fear Rodney or Perry, sweetheart, you should be fearing me."