Lovesick - Legacies (The Hunter Book 3)

Chapter 35 - 'I Don't Deserve You, Hope Mikaelson.'

A/N - Above is an image of Thornhill, Wolfgang's Mansion in Mystic Falls.

Wolfgang sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled as he rested his chin on them. Julian stood just behind him, the butler as neat as he usually was, gloved hands folded in front of him. The hunter sighed, biting his tongue as he waited patiently. Hope was at school, probably in a lesson by now and Wolfgang fought to keep her from his thoughts. He needed to conserve his energy and focus, slipping into the old Wolfgang, the merciless vampire that inspired fear and commanded respect.

"Dr Saltzman, per your request." Julian announced, gesturing at the door to Wolfgang's study. The Nachtstern nodded, knowing the butler had an unreal sixth sense when it came to things like this. The doors to the study opened as if of their own volition, and Alaric walked in, his eyes on the hunter sat behind the desk.

"Alaric, take a seat." Wolfgang commanded, his voice leaving no room for arguement. The hunter regarded him carefully before he spoke, "I called you here because of Sebastian."

"What about him?" Alaric asked, leaning forwards. Wolfgang sighed, fiddling with his daylight ring as he glanced at Julian. The butler inclined his head in understanding, walking towards the door and closing it. Julian settled besides the wall in the way he usually did, so that his presence seemed to blend into the room itself.

"I want to know what you did with him." Wolfgang explained. The headmaster nodded slowly, burying his face in his hands as he let out a deep sigh. Alaric met Wolfgang's gaze, the hunter's fingers interlaced as he regardedthe headmaster, "He's not dead, if that's what you're wondering."

"Good." Wolfgang replied, standing up as he walked towards a decanter on the side. The Nachtstern vampire frowned as he looked at the empty bottle. Wolfgang shook his head as he turned to Julian, "I must say, it's a miracle. Four hundred and twenty year, and I've finally run out of bourbon."

"Are we done here?" Alaric asked, rising to his feet as he headed for the study door. Wolfgang nodded, gesturing for Julian to open the door as the hunter adjusted the cuffs of his purple shirt, "I do hope that Malachai isn't loose in that prison world, Alaric. God knows what that sociopath would do with Sebastian."

Alaric glanced over his shoulder at the Nachtstern, who watched him curiously to gauge his reaction. The Saltzman shook his head, walking out of the door as Julian followed, closing the door behind him as Wolfgang's eyes moved to the portrait above the fireplace, putting the empty decanter down with a sigh.

**********

Hope chanted the spell again, to no avail. The tribrid shook her head, stepping back with a sigh of frustration. Wolfgang watched the Mora Miserium cautiously, intently taking in the viscous liquid of dark magic as he rolled up the sleeves of his purple shirt. The Nachtstern stepped forwards, running a hand through his dark hair as he inhaled slowly, centering himself as he prepared his mind for what was to come.

Absorbing dark magic was another of Wolfgang's unique abilities. He could draw it in, allow it to consume him and then best it, as he had done for four centuries. The hunter had hosted the colective Ungeweiht Magic of Der Zerkel Der Sieben Shwestern, so, Josie's little collection of dark power would be child's play. The Nachtstern released a breath, stepping closer to the sandclock as he braced himself for the rush of dark magic.

"Come on, you little bastard." Wolfgang muttered as he took a hold of the sandclock. The hunter drew in it's power as though he was sucking it out through a straw, pulling it into his body where it could do no harm. Dark veins crawled up Wolfgang's arms, spiralling upwards to claim him. The Nachtstern's pupils seemed to spill over into his irises, tainting the rest of his eyes with their darkness so that he had two polished globes of obsidian as he absorbed the black magic.