Hurricane
by Laura Spudzmom
Chapter 4
He reached back with a foot and nudged the broken door closed.
“How—how did you find me?” she stuttered.
He cocked a brow. “It wasn’t easy; quite frustrating in fact.”
She clenched her jaw. “The credit card…” she ground out in realization, “but still, it shouldn’t have mattered…” He smirked and she weakly struggled against him. “Will you let me go now?”
One fine sandy brow rose. “I don’t know, love… Are you going to shoot me again?”
She scoffed. “What do you mean, again? You seem fine so I obviously missed.”
He looked pained despite his smile. “I wouldn’t say that, love.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?! You mean… Oh god! Where?!” She struggled again and he let her go.
She glanced down at his abdomen and gasped at the sight of blood on his shirt. “Oh god,” she repeated as she dropped the gun and yanked up his shirt with shaking hands. “We need to…oh god…where’s my phone?!”
Quickly, he took her shaking hands in his. “Isabella…shh, quiet love…I’ll be fine.”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I shot you!” She looked away, her eyes wide and face going pale as she muttered, “I actually shot someone…” He watched her carefully for a moment as she processed. Then she pinned him with a wary gaze, her eyes narrowing and mind whirling with the possibilities. “How can you be fine?!” she finally snapped as her nerves got the best of her.
“Come,” he said while tugging her toward the couch where he sat with her. “It’s just a flesh wound, a scratch, nothing serious…”
Her brows drew together. “Bullshit. There was a hole. That bullet went in and you’re wasting time arguing with me! We need to get you to a hospital and…oh god, what if you die?!”
He cupped her face in both hands and stared into her eyes, his tone of voice smooth and hypnotic as he spoke. “Isabella, it’s merely a scratch, nothing serious and will heal on its own.”
She quieted and he leaned in, his lips covering hers in a slow kiss. She sighed against him when he ended it with a sensuous peck and he smiled as her eyes fluttered open. He was shocked, however, when her eyes hardened and she grabbed his hand.
“You need to let me look at it,” she said as she stood and tugged him up and toward her bedroom, all the while grumbling, “Scratch, my lily white ass…Not stupid…know what a bullet hole looks like, damn it…”
Just before they reached the bed, a quiet clunk of something small yet heavy hitting the carpet caught her attention and she sucked in a breath when she saw just what it was; there, on the floor by their feet, was a spent slug, still wet with blood.
Klaus watched as wide eyes slowly tracked from the bullet on the floor, up his body to his face. “How…” she began before looking back to the bloody hole in his shirt. She met his eyes again and woodenly pointed at the bed. “Lie down,” she ordered weakly, “I’ll get the first aid kit.” She left him standing there and disappeared into the bathroom.
With a bemused smirk, he peeled his ruined shirt over his head and took a seat on her bed to wait, using the wadded shirt to wipe some of the blood from the healed wound. He wasn’t sure what just happened; how she was able to resist being compelled, but it was clear she had and without a trace of vervain in evidence anywhere.
Bella walked out of the bathroom, first aid kit in hand and froze at the sight of the man, sans shirt, sitting on her bed. He was just as gorgeous as her torturous memories had conjured him to be and she had to give herself a mental shake as she stared.
He raised a brow as one side of his lips quirked up and she cursed herself for being so flustered as she walked the rest of the way to the bed. “Okay,” she said while opening the box and setting it on the nightstand. “Lie back and let me see.”
Wordlessly, Klaus stretched out on her bed, relaxing back into the pillows without taking his eyes from her face. He found it amusing that she wouldn’t meet his gaze while she fussed with cleaning the rest of the blood from his skin with a gauze pad and antiseptic. Once she had, she stared, her hand hovering just above the undeniably healed bullet wound.
Tentatively, her hand pressed onto the warm skin of his abdomen before moving up to rest above his beating heart. “You’re something else,” she observed quietly.
“Thank you for the compliment, love,” he answered dryly and she frowned, finally meeting his amused gaze.
“No,” she said slowly, “I mean you’re something other, but then I think you knew that perfectly well.”
As she watched, amusement was quickly clouded by apprehension in those blue eyes and any anger she felt toward him drained away, replaced by a need to reassure for reasons she couldn’t comprehend.
Slowly, her hand glided up his firm chest and neck to cup his lightly stubbled cheek as she moved closer from where she’d perched on the mattress.
He remained silent, his gaze now wary. “It’s all right,” she murmured, her eyes flitting from that wary gaze to his full lips and back before leaning in to kiss him softly. “It’s all right,” she repeated in a whisper against his mouth and he circled his arms around her, pulling her close, his parted lips slanting over hers as he deepened the kiss.
She felt a hand glide down to hook around her thigh and before she knew it, she was straddling his lap, their busy mouths never losing contact as that long-denied connection flared to life between them.
Hands roamed and clothes were hastily shed as he trailed hot, wet kisses and tender, skin tingling nips down her neck and over her shoulder.
Arching against him with a toss of her hair, her eyes closed as satisfied sighs passed her parted lips. She sank her fingers into his hair then, holding him to her as he lavished attention on her breasts with a low, rumbling growl.
As she tugged, his mouth covered one pebbled peak, sucking it in deeply and a cry left her parted lips as she stared down at him, eyes hooded and heavy with lust. She was heady with it and it fogged her mind, making it almost impossible to think. “What are you doing to me?” she breathed at the sight and feel of this gorgeous man; one that her mind had never let her forget.
He released her breast, his gaze meeting hers, and she could have sworn something flashed in his eyes as he reached up and yanked her down into a devouring kiss. “Possessing you,” he whispered as his nose and supple lips dragged over the warm satin of her cheek.
He paused to nuzzle and suck just below her ear and she moaned and ground her slick heat over his hardened length.
He groaned and she felt him lick and suck at her throbbing pulse, instinctively tilting her head as he took in a slow, deliberate breath. “You smell so bloody good,” he growled into her ear, his voice like raw silk as his hand glided down her back to grip and knead her ass while crushing her to his naked chest.
He was warm, and irresistible and felt so good against her bare and wanting body… ‘He’s right here…right there…’ the thought ghosted through her heart and mind as she felt the head of his cock at her entrance. ‘Right there…after so long…mine for the taking…but…’
“Fuck,” she whispered, heart hammering in her chest as her mind whirled, her thoughts now battling between what she wanted and what she feared. ‘But…what is he?! What is he?!’ an inner voice screamed over the other voice that couldn’t care less; the one that wanted to surrender body and soul; just slide down and take him in…no matter what he was or the outcome of it.
Still, reason and hard-won self-preservation began to prevail and she pushed against his chest, gaining some much needed distance. “Wait,” she insisted when he tried to pull her close again.
Her chest heaved and she dropped her head, fighting desperately for control of her traitorous body as she held him off with a hand on his chest.
“What is it, Isabella?” he asked as the backs of his fingers brushed her flushed cheek.
“What are you?” she asked bluntly before locking her gaze with his.
His brow creased, that wariness instantly back in his eyes as he searched her gaze. “What kind of monster do you think I am?” he asked cooly and she felt the breath leave her lungs in a rush as instant anger welled within her. He watched, eyes guarded as she scrambled from his lap and the bed.
Grabbing a robe from the bedpost, she slipped it on before padding silently to the window, her body tense as she stared outside. Bemused by her sudden anger, he looked down, tapping his lips with a crooked finger as he slowly shook his head.
“Are you going to give me an answer?” she asked, still facing the window as the sun began its descent.
She heard him rise from the bed and pull on his pants and turned to him just as he scooted back on the bed, one knee bent and an arm propped over it. “There is no simple answer, love.”
“Well, then I’ll take the complicated one,” she insisted as she yanked open a drawer on her dresser to dig out a pack of smokes she kept for emergencies. She hadn’t smoked since she’d discovered her pregnancy, but this situation called for…something…anything…that might allow her to hold it together.
Unlocking the latch on the window, she slid it open and pulled up a chair before lighting up and sitting down. “Well?” she asked before blowing out a plume of smoke and arching one dark brow.
He took note of the challenge in her eyes and smirked humorlessly. “Very well,” he said with a terse nod. “I am vampire…”
“Bullshit,” she cut him off with a scoff. “Believe me when I say I’m familiar with vampires, and you are not one of them.” She flicked ash out the window and waited, taking note of how his eyes glittered as he stared her down.
Then he smiled; a lazy, arrogant smile that, if she was honest, was a bit chilling. “Allow me to finish?” he asked, although it was clearly a directive more than a question.
She took a drag from her smoke and inclined her head. “Fine,” she said with a wave of a trembling hand as she exhaled forcefully. “Go ahead.”
“I am vampire, but I am also werewolf. You see, I am the Original Hybrid, the very first of my kind, thanks to my mother,” he said with not a little distaste in his tone. “My siblings are all Original vampires. We share a mother, while I had a different father; a werewolf, though I never knew him.”
She reached for a small crystal bowl and crushed out her cigarette before looking back at him. “If, as you say, you’re half vampire, why don’t you share any characteristics with them. Why aren’t you cold and hard? Why doesn’t your skin sparkle, even a little bit?”
He chuckled and her brows drew together. “Oh love, the creatures you describe are not vampires—not in the truest sense. No, those beings are something else—some other species entirely, although they may call themselves vampires due to their thirst for blood.” He tilted his head, a thoughtful look on his face. “Tell me, how is it you know of such beings? Most humans who encounter them do not survive the experience and I know they guard the secret of their existence rather…diligently.”
She sat back with a frown. “That’s not important right now. We’re discussing you. You seem all too human to me. You even have a heartbeat. How do I know you’re not just some emo-nutcase with an unhealthy fascination with all things dark? I mean, vampire/werewolf?” She laughed and it sounded a bit hysterical. “The two species are supposed to be natural enemies, so how can someone like you happen, if that’s truly what you are…”
Before she could register movement, she found herself in his arms, staring up into a face that had transformed into something truly frightening. “Now do you believe?” he asked, lethal, sharp fangs on full display as he dipped his face to her neck. She sucked in a breath as his lips brushed a kiss over her wildly throbbing pulse. “Or must I prove myself further?” He sucked on her tender skin and some untamed thrill shot through her. ‘And you just accused him of being an emo-nutcase…’ she thought as she struggled against her instant arousal.
“Oh god,” she whispered as her head tilted and eyes closed. She couldn’t help it; couldn’t help the reaction of her body to him as he parted his lips and dragged the tips of his fangs over her skin before biting down.
She cried out at the feeling of immeasurable pleasure tinged with pain as he gathered her close and drank from her with a deep-chested groan of fulfillment. He could have finished her off just then and she would have died gladly—until she thought of her son. “Dominic…” she mumbled, still feeling drunk from the closeness of this man—vampire—hybrid—and she began to struggle.
Quickly, he withdrew his fangs with a growl and looked down at her face as he brought himself under tight control. With a pang of remorse for scaring her so, he bit into his wrist and held it to her lips. “Drink,” he ordered as she recoiled.
“No!” she protested with a turn of her head, just the thought of blood twisting her stomach.
She gasped as he forced his bloody wrist past her lips, the taste that hit her tongue making her eyes close at its exquisiteness as she latched on, holding his wrist to her mouth with one hand while she eagerly sucked.
“Ahh,” Klaus gasped as the feel of this woman—his mate—feeding from him for the first time instantly hardened his cock with the need to claim her fully. He threw his head back and relished the experience as his eyes flashed amber, the beast inside him exultant.
A moan from her brought him back to the here and now and he pulled his wrist away despite her whimpered protests. “Enough, love,” he murmured as her eyes fluttered open.
She looked dazed for a moment before her eyes cleared and she pushed away with a scowl. “How dare you?!”
She reached up and covered her neck where he’d fed, turning her back on him, her thoughts instantly going to her infant son—his son—and what all of this would mean for his life. She was, to be blunt, afraid for her child and unsure how to deal with any of it.
Klaus watched her struggle through her thoughts for a moment before speaking. “Do you have any alcohol?”
“What?” she asked absently, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh, yes, in the kitchen,” she said with a wave toward the door as she turned back to the window.
He left the room, only to reenter minutes later carrying two tumblers of whiskey, one of which he handed her. “Drink up love. I believe you could use it.”
She snorted and took the glass. “You should have brought the bottle.”
He took a seat in a chair and dipped his head. “Perhaps,” he said before taking a liberal drink from his glass. “Now, tell me about Dominic.”
Dread filled her and she knocked back the liquor in the glass before sitting in the chair across from him. “He’s my son.”
His brows rose, the look he sent her calculating, if a bit amused. “Immaculate conception?”
She looked away, glaring, and toyed with the glass in her hands. “He is the result…from one unforgettable night in New York.” She looked back, meeting his gaze squarely. “Does that answer your question?”
“I suppose it does, in a roundabout fashion, although I thought such a thing an impossibility on my part.”
“He’s yours,” she stated, her nostrils flaring with rising ire and he smirked.
“As is his mother.”
“I belong to no one!” She felt the lie even as she spoke the words.
He laughed, a quiet laugh of challenge; full of pride and confidence. “You will come to accept it, love.”
She shot from her chair, one hand gripping her glass as the other clenched into a fist. “You’re an arrogant…arrogant…gah!” the words cut off as her jaw clenched and she stormed from the room, intent on getting a refill.
He followed at a more leisurely pace, stopping to lean against the breakfast bar as she slammed the bottle back down after filling her glass. She took a drink and turned to face him, her eyes roaming over his naked torso. She scowled. “Can’t you put a shirt on?”
He shot her a wry smile. “I could, but it seems to have a nasty bullet hole in it, not to mention it’s a bloody mess, literally.”
She blushed and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest and he walked to her, reaching out to brush his fingers over her cheek. “Lovely,” he observed before she slapped his hand away.
“Don’t distract me. It won’t work. We need to talk about…things,” she said with a frown before skirting around him to take a seat in the living room.
With a sigh, he refilled his own glass and followed, taking a seat on the sofa adjacent to the chair she’d chosen. “All right love. You want to talk. Let’s begin with where my son is, shall we? After that, we can address why you feel the need to hide so well no one can find you, and then we’ll move on to your knowledge of cold ones.”
She glared. “You have quite the list. How about we start with my questions? Like why you searched for me.”
He shrugged. “I desired to find you.”
“Why?”
“Because one night, I found, was not nearly enough.”
Her brow quirked. “You always get what you want?”
“Yes,” he drawled, “eventually.” That supremely confidant look was back and she couldn’t bring herself to slight him for it. Put simply, it fit him, and she got the impression it wasn't mere bravado. It was too natural on him; too deeply ingrained to be a front.
Reaching over, she clicked on the lamp and sat back, taking a sip from her glass as she curled her legs under her while studying him. He calmly stared back, unaffected, or so it seemed to her. Then something suddenly occurred to her and she laughed.
He took a drink from his glass and glanced askance at her with a smirk. “Something amuses you?”
“Yes,” she said simply as her laughter tapered into a smile.
“Care to share?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It just occurred to me that I don’t even know your name.”
Amusement danced in his eyes as a wry smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, well, you were the one who insisted on no words passing between us if you’ll recall.”
She saluted with her glass. “You got me there,” she conceded. “So, tell me then. What is it?”
Rising from his chair, he stepped toward her, took her hand and bowed over it. “Niklaus Mikaelson, your humble servant,” he said with a kiss to her knuckles while glancing up through his lashes. Her heart skipped a beat and he smirked before straightening to retake his seat.
“Jesus, you’re dangerous,” she muttered while trying to slow her racing heart.
He retrieved his glass from the side table, took a drink and muttered behind the rim, “To all but you, yes my dear Isabella.”
He watched as all amusement drained from her countenance. “I disagree, Niklaus Mikaelson. I’ve a feeling you have the potential to destroy me more fully than anyone ever has.”
He frowned. “You’re truly frightened.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“And yet, you weren’t when I showed my true self.”
“True,” she agreed, and he knew the truth of it; could feel it as if her fear was his own where he hadn’t felt it earlier.
“You’ve been hurt before,” he deduced and her gaze shot to his.
“Yes,” she said flatly.
“By whom,” he inquired, just barely restraining a growl.
With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her forehead and set her glass aside. “It ties in with your questions, so I suppose it’s time for me to answer.”
She looked into his eyes and he gave a nod. “I’m listening.”
And so she launched into the story of her move to Forks. Of meeting Edward and his family; of the nomads, culminating into what her life was now with Victoria still out there, evading and ready to strike if she ever finds her.
His hand curled around his glass and it was only through supreme control that he refrained from shattering it as cold rage, such that he’d never felt before, filled him. He felt his face change and he looked away with a clenched jaw when he heard her suck in a breath. “Niklaus?” she murmured, sitting forward in her chair. “Are you all right?”
She began to rise and he held up a hand while dropping his head. “No, don’t,” he told her lowly as he struggled against the baser part of himself. He looked at her then, his burning, amber gaze piercing her through and she met it squarely, without a trace of fear.
Without breaking eye contact, she rose and went to him, taking his glass and setting it aside before straddling his lap. He was astonished as she ran her fingers through his hair while pressing her cheek to his. “Everything’s fine,” she murmured. “I’m here, with you, and everything’s fine.”
“Dominic…” he said and she shook her head while placing soft kisses on his jaw and neck.
“He’s safe.”
“Where?” he asked while pulling her close.
“With my surrogate father. He won’t let anything happen to him. I trust him,” she said while leaning back enough to meet his gaze. She noted with relief that his features had returned to normal as she rubbed her hand over his stubbled cheek while kissing him softly.
He leaned back, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “That may very well be Isabella, but I want him here, with me.” His stare was intense as he looked at her and her brow creased as she slowly stood from his lap.
“All right,” she agreed, seeing how tense he still was as she retrieved her phone. “I’ll ask him to bring Dominic home.”
“Thank you,” he said, his tone still tense.
While she made her call, he went into the bedroom to put his shoes on and dispose of his ruined shirt. Once he’d tossed it in the wastebasket, he took out his phone and called his brother who picked up on the fourth ring, probably just to annoy him.
“Did you know, brother,” Elijah drawled, “the local book store closes at five in this thrice damned town? Had to go all the way across town to the Barnes & Noble.”
“A hardship, I’m sure,” Klaus replied flatly. “You can come in now. I’m ready for you to meet her and there are things we need to discuss.”
“She’s not going to shoot me as well, is she?” Elijah asked and Klaus barely resisted an eye roll at the amusement he heard in his voice.
“Something tells me you enjoyed that entirely too much. No, she won’t shoot you, but I may if you bring it up again.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll be right there,” he said. “Oh, speaking of gunfire, I had to compel her neighbors and one very upset maintenance man after that bit of fun. You owe me, brother.”
“So you say,” Klaus said with a smirk. “And as long as we’re on the subject of favors, bring my bag in will you? I’ve need of a new shirt.”
Laughter was all he heard as Elijah ended the call, and he shook his head as he pocketed his phone and went back into the living room.
He noticed she’d straightened up a bit. The gun was no longer on the floor where she’d dropped it and she’d cleared the glasses and bottle of whiskey away. She smiled as he sat beside her on the sofa. “Carlisle will have Dominic home in half an hour or so.”
“Good, I’ll feel much better with both of you here.”
She nodded. “I can understand that, but I still trust Carlisle and need you to know that I wouldn’t put Dominic in danger—ever.”
She jumped at the knock at the door and Klaus patted her leg before rising to get it. “Relax, it’s just my brother.”
“Your brother?” she asked with a frown. “Has he been out there this whole time?”
“Yes,” he answered with a smirk as he pulled the door open. Elijah glided in, handing Klaus his bag on the way by as he extended a hand to Bella.
“Elijah Mikaelson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her eyes were wide as she took in his tailored suit and immaculate form. “Wow,” she said as they shook. “Your family isn’t lacking in the good genes department, are they? And I’m Bella, by the way.”
He deftly lifted her hand and placed a chaste kiss as he smiled. “A fitting name for a remarkably beautiful woman.”
Bella brows shot up and she chuckled while taking her hand back. “You’re very polished. Your brother’s smooth, but has that certain edge to him, but you? They never see you coming do they?”
He smiled and took a seat in the chair, crossing his legs at the knee as she and a freshly clothed Klaus took seats on the sofa. “I don’t know what you mean, Bella. I’m the good brother. Absolutely nothing to fear with me.”
“Uh huh,” she muttered while leaning against Klaus. “You should be a salesman.”
Klaus laughed and kissed Bella’s cheek while Elijah looked a mix between amused and disgusted. “A salesman? Too boorish an occupation for my tastes, I’m afraid,” he said with a smile tugging at his lips.
“Point taken,” she said with a nod. “Still, I stand by my assessment, until you prove me wrong, of course.”
“I’ll consider it a challenge,” he said with a nod as Klaus narrowed his eyes.
“If you’re done flirting, brother?”
Elijah smiled sedately. “For now. What was it we needed to speak about?” he asked, looking to his brother while smoothly changing the subject.
Klaus placed an arm around Bella and pulled her close. “There is a cold one after her. A red-haired female. In the past, Isabella was involved with a coven of cold ones; animal drinkers, three of whom are now attempting to track and destroy this female. I will see it done myself, but Bella and my son need to be safe first.”
“Agreed,” Elijah said, none of his earlier amusement in evidence. He looked formidable; not as overtly dangerous as Klaus, but still not to be trifled with. “Should we call in Rebekah and Kol?”
Klaus frowned as he thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he trusted Rebekah with Balla and their child, simply because of his past track record with his sister. While she wasn’t necessarily vicious, he had to admit, this would be the perfect opportunity for some revenge on her part; something he wasn’t willing to risk. “No,” he answered finally, “Let’s handle this on our own, for now.”
Leaning down, he murmured in Bella’s ear, “I believe we’re about to have a visitor, love.” She looked up at him and his eyes were narrowed as he stared at her door before looking at her. “One without a heartbeat. You trusted my son to a cold one?!”
Anger flared within her and she pulled away and stood. “Yes, I did. He’s perfectly controlled. He’s a doctor and I consider him my father, so get over yourself.”
She marched to the door and Elijah raised a brow at his seething brother. “She has a bit of spirit, that one.”
“Yes, she does,” he muttered before focusing on Bella and the being walking behind her; a being who was eyeing him warily. He and Elijah stood as Bella placed a carrier seat on the coffee table before lifting back the blanket and unstrapping an infant. With a tender smile, she lifted the baby and glanced at Klaus who stared raptly, eyes intense and face expressionless. “Niklaus, meet your son, Dominic Charles.” She kissed the cooing baby’s head and whispered, “Nick, meet your daddy.” With misty eyes and a tentative smile, she placed her son in his father’s arms for the first time and stood back to watch.
He reached back with a foot and nudged the broken door closed.
“How—how did you find me?” she stuttered.
He cocked a brow. “It wasn’t easy; quite frustrating in fact.”
She clenched her jaw. “The credit card…” she ground out in realization, “but still, it shouldn’t have mattered…” He smirked and she weakly struggled against him. “Will you let me go now?”
One fine sandy brow rose. “I don’t know, love… Are you going to shoot me again?”
She scoffed. “What do you mean, again? You seem fine so I obviously missed.”
He looked pained despite his smile. “I wouldn’t say that, love.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?! You mean… Oh god! Where?!” She struggled again and he let her go.
She glanced down at his abdomen and gasped at the sight of blood on his shirt. “Oh god,” she repeated as she dropped the gun and yanked up his shirt with shaking hands. “We need to…oh god…where’s my phone?!”
Quickly, he took her shaking hands in his. “Isabella…shh, quiet love…I’ll be fine.”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I shot you!” She looked away, her eyes wide and face going pale as she muttered, “I actually shot someone…” He watched her carefully for a moment as she processed. Then she pinned him with a wary gaze, her eyes narrowing and mind whirling with the possibilities. “How can you be fine?!” she finally snapped as her nerves got the best of her.
“Come,” he said while tugging her toward the couch where he sat with her. “It’s just a flesh wound, a scratch, nothing serious…”
Her brows drew together. “Bullshit. There was a hole. That bullet went in and you’re wasting time arguing with me! We need to get you to a hospital and…oh god, what if you die?!”
He cupped her face in both hands and stared into her eyes, his tone of voice smooth and hypnotic as he spoke. “Isabella, it’s merely a scratch, nothing serious and will heal on its own.”
She quieted and he leaned in, his lips covering hers in a slow kiss. She sighed against him when he ended it with a sensuous peck and he smiled as her eyes fluttered open. He was shocked, however, when her eyes hardened and she grabbed his hand.
“You need to let me look at it,” she said as she stood and tugged him up and toward her bedroom, all the while grumbling, “Scratch, my lily white ass…Not stupid…know what a bullet hole looks like, damn it…”
Just before they reached the bed, a quiet clunk of something small yet heavy hitting the carpet caught her attention and she sucked in a breath when she saw just what it was; there, on the floor by their feet, was a spent slug, still wet with blood.
Klaus watched as wide eyes slowly tracked from the bullet on the floor, up his body to his face. “How…” she began before looking back to the bloody hole in his shirt. She met his eyes again and woodenly pointed at the bed. “Lie down,” she ordered weakly, “I’ll get the first aid kit.” She left him standing there and disappeared into the bathroom.
With a bemused smirk, he peeled his ruined shirt over his head and took a seat on her bed to wait, using the wadded shirt to wipe some of the blood from the healed wound. He wasn’t sure what just happened; how she was able to resist being compelled, but it was clear she had and without a trace of vervain in evidence anywhere.
Bella walked out of the bathroom, first aid kit in hand and froze at the sight of the man, sans shirt, sitting on her bed. He was just as gorgeous as her torturous memories had conjured him to be and she had to give herself a mental shake as she stared.
He raised a brow as one side of his lips quirked up and she cursed herself for being so flustered as she walked the rest of the way to the bed. “Okay,” she said while opening the box and setting it on the nightstand. “Lie back and let me see.”
Wordlessly, Klaus stretched out on her bed, relaxing back into the pillows without taking his eyes from her face. He found it amusing that she wouldn’t meet his gaze while she fussed with cleaning the rest of the blood from his skin with a gauze pad and antiseptic. Once she had, she stared, her hand hovering just above the undeniably healed bullet wound.
Tentatively, her hand pressed onto the warm skin of his abdomen before moving up to rest above his beating heart. “You’re something else,” she observed quietly.
“Thank you for the compliment, love,” he answered dryly and she frowned, finally meeting his amused gaze.
“No,” she said slowly, “I mean you’re something other, but then I think you knew that perfectly well.”
As she watched, amusement was quickly clouded by apprehension in those blue eyes and any anger she felt toward him drained away, replaced by a need to reassure for reasons she couldn’t comprehend.
Slowly, her hand glided up his firm chest and neck to cup his lightly stubbled cheek as she moved closer from where she’d perched on the mattress.
He remained silent, his gaze now wary. “It’s all right,” she murmured, her eyes flitting from that wary gaze to his full lips and back before leaning in to kiss him softly. “It’s all right,” she repeated in a whisper against his mouth and he circled his arms around her, pulling her close, his parted lips slanting over hers as he deepened the kiss.
She felt a hand glide down to hook around her thigh and before she knew it, she was straddling his lap, their busy mouths never losing contact as that long-denied connection flared to life between them.
Hands roamed and clothes were hastily shed as he trailed hot, wet kisses and tender, skin tingling nips down her neck and over her shoulder.
Arching against him with a toss of her hair, her eyes closed as satisfied sighs passed her parted lips. She sank her fingers into his hair then, holding him to her as he lavished attention on her breasts with a low, rumbling growl.
As she tugged, his mouth covered one pebbled peak, sucking it in deeply and a cry left her parted lips as she stared down at him, eyes hooded and heavy with lust. She was heady with it and it fogged her mind, making it almost impossible to think. “What are you doing to me?” she breathed at the sight and feel of this gorgeous man; one that her mind had never let her forget.
He released her breast, his gaze meeting hers, and she could have sworn something flashed in his eyes as he reached up and yanked her down into a devouring kiss. “Possessing you,” he whispered as his nose and supple lips dragged over the warm satin of her cheek.
He paused to nuzzle and suck just below her ear and she moaned and ground her slick heat over his hardened length.
He groaned and she felt him lick and suck at her throbbing pulse, instinctively tilting her head as he took in a slow, deliberate breath. “You smell so bloody good,” he growled into her ear, his voice like raw silk as his hand glided down her back to grip and knead her ass while crushing her to his naked chest.
He was warm, and irresistible and felt so good against her bare and wanting body… ‘He’s right here…right there…’ the thought ghosted through her heart and mind as she felt the head of his cock at her entrance. ‘Right there…after so long…mine for the taking…but…’
“Fuck,” she whispered, heart hammering in her chest as her mind whirled, her thoughts now battling between what she wanted and what she feared. ‘But…what is he?! What is he?!’ an inner voice screamed over the other voice that couldn’t care less; the one that wanted to surrender body and soul; just slide down and take him in…no matter what he was or the outcome of it.
Still, reason and hard-won self-preservation began to prevail and she pushed against his chest, gaining some much needed distance. “Wait,” she insisted when he tried to pull her close again.
Her chest heaved and she dropped her head, fighting desperately for control of her traitorous body as she held him off with a hand on his chest.
“What is it, Isabella?” he asked as the backs of his fingers brushed her flushed cheek.
“What are you?” she asked bluntly before locking her gaze with his.
His brow creased, that wariness instantly back in his eyes as he searched her gaze. “What kind of monster do you think I am?” he asked cooly and she felt the breath leave her lungs in a rush as instant anger welled within her. He watched, eyes guarded as she scrambled from his lap and the bed.
Grabbing a robe from the bedpost, she slipped it on before padding silently to the window, her body tense as she stared outside. Bemused by her sudden anger, he looked down, tapping his lips with a crooked finger as he slowly shook his head.
“Are you going to give me an answer?” she asked, still facing the window as the sun began its descent.
She heard him rise from the bed and pull on his pants and turned to him just as he scooted back on the bed, one knee bent and an arm propped over it. “There is no simple answer, love.”
“Well, then I’ll take the complicated one,” she insisted as she yanked open a drawer on her dresser to dig out a pack of smokes she kept for emergencies. She hadn’t smoked since she’d discovered her pregnancy, but this situation called for…something…anything…that might allow her to hold it together.
Unlocking the latch on the window, she slid it open and pulled up a chair before lighting up and sitting down. “Well?” she asked before blowing out a plume of smoke and arching one dark brow.
He took note of the challenge in her eyes and smirked humorlessly. “Very well,” he said with a terse nod. “I am vampire…”
“Bullshit,” she cut him off with a scoff. “Believe me when I say I’m familiar with vampires, and you are not one of them.” She flicked ash out the window and waited, taking note of how his eyes glittered as he stared her down.
Then he smiled; a lazy, arrogant smile that, if she was honest, was a bit chilling. “Allow me to finish?” he asked, although it was clearly a directive more than a question.
She took a drag from her smoke and inclined her head. “Fine,” she said with a wave of a trembling hand as she exhaled forcefully. “Go ahead.”
“I am vampire, but I am also werewolf. You see, I am the Original Hybrid, the very first of my kind, thanks to my mother,” he said with not a little distaste in his tone. “My siblings are all Original vampires. We share a mother, while I had a different father; a werewolf, though I never knew him.”
She reached for a small crystal bowl and crushed out her cigarette before looking back at him. “If, as you say, you’re half vampire, why don’t you share any characteristics with them. Why aren’t you cold and hard? Why doesn’t your skin sparkle, even a little bit?”
He chuckled and her brows drew together. “Oh love, the creatures you describe are not vampires—not in the truest sense. No, those beings are something else—some other species entirely, although they may call themselves vampires due to their thirst for blood.” He tilted his head, a thoughtful look on his face. “Tell me, how is it you know of such beings? Most humans who encounter them do not survive the experience and I know they guard the secret of their existence rather…diligently.”
She sat back with a frown. “That’s not important right now. We’re discussing you. You seem all too human to me. You even have a heartbeat. How do I know you’re not just some emo-nutcase with an unhealthy fascination with all things dark? I mean, vampire/werewolf?” She laughed and it sounded a bit hysterical. “The two species are supposed to be natural enemies, so how can someone like you happen, if that’s truly what you are…”
Before she could register movement, she found herself in his arms, staring up into a face that had transformed into something truly frightening. “Now do you believe?” he asked, lethal, sharp fangs on full display as he dipped his face to her neck. She sucked in a breath as his lips brushed a kiss over her wildly throbbing pulse. “Or must I prove myself further?” He sucked on her tender skin and some untamed thrill shot through her. ‘And you just accused him of being an emo-nutcase…’ she thought as she struggled against her instant arousal.
“Oh god,” she whispered as her head tilted and eyes closed. She couldn’t help it; couldn’t help the reaction of her body to him as he parted his lips and dragged the tips of his fangs over her skin before biting down.
She cried out at the feeling of immeasurable pleasure tinged with pain as he gathered her close and drank from her with a deep-chested groan of fulfillment. He could have finished her off just then and she would have died gladly—until she thought of her son. “Dominic…” she mumbled, still feeling drunk from the closeness of this man—vampire—hybrid—and she began to struggle.
Quickly, he withdrew his fangs with a growl and looked down at her face as he brought himself under tight control. With a pang of remorse for scaring her so, he bit into his wrist and held it to her lips. “Drink,” he ordered as she recoiled.
“No!” she protested with a turn of her head, just the thought of blood twisting her stomach.
She gasped as he forced his bloody wrist past her lips, the taste that hit her tongue making her eyes close at its exquisiteness as she latched on, holding his wrist to her mouth with one hand while she eagerly sucked.
“Ahh,” Klaus gasped as the feel of this woman—his mate—feeding from him for the first time instantly hardened his cock with the need to claim her fully. He threw his head back and relished the experience as his eyes flashed amber, the beast inside him exultant.
A moan from her brought him back to the here and now and he pulled his wrist away despite her whimpered protests. “Enough, love,” he murmured as her eyes fluttered open.
She looked dazed for a moment before her eyes cleared and she pushed away with a scowl. “How dare you?!”
She reached up and covered her neck where he’d fed, turning her back on him, her thoughts instantly going to her infant son—his son—and what all of this would mean for his life. She was, to be blunt, afraid for her child and unsure how to deal with any of it.
Klaus watched her struggle through her thoughts for a moment before speaking. “Do you have any alcohol?”
“What?” she asked absently, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh, yes, in the kitchen,” she said with a wave toward the door as she turned back to the window.
He left the room, only to reenter minutes later carrying two tumblers of whiskey, one of which he handed her. “Drink up love. I believe you could use it.”
She snorted and took the glass. “You should have brought the bottle.”
He took a seat in a chair and dipped his head. “Perhaps,” he said before taking a liberal drink from his glass. “Now, tell me about Dominic.”
Dread filled her and she knocked back the liquor in the glass before sitting in the chair across from him. “He’s my son.”
His brows rose, the look he sent her calculating, if a bit amused. “Immaculate conception?”
She looked away, glaring, and toyed with the glass in her hands. “He is the result…from one unforgettable night in New York.” She looked back, meeting his gaze squarely. “Does that answer your question?”
“I suppose it does, in a roundabout fashion, although I thought such a thing an impossibility on my part.”
“He’s yours,” she stated, her nostrils flaring with rising ire and he smirked.
“As is his mother.”
“I belong to no one!” She felt the lie even as she spoke the words.
He laughed, a quiet laugh of challenge; full of pride and confidence. “You will come to accept it, love.”
She shot from her chair, one hand gripping her glass as the other clenched into a fist. “You’re an arrogant…arrogant…gah!” the words cut off as her jaw clenched and she stormed from the room, intent on getting a refill.
He followed at a more leisurely pace, stopping to lean against the breakfast bar as she slammed the bottle back down after filling her glass. She took a drink and turned to face him, her eyes roaming over his naked torso. She scowled. “Can’t you put a shirt on?”
He shot her a wry smile. “I could, but it seems to have a nasty bullet hole in it, not to mention it’s a bloody mess, literally.”
She blushed and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest and he walked to her, reaching out to brush his fingers over her cheek. “Lovely,” he observed before she slapped his hand away.
“Don’t distract me. It won’t work. We need to talk about…things,” she said with a frown before skirting around him to take a seat in the living room.
With a sigh, he refilled his own glass and followed, taking a seat on the sofa adjacent to the chair she’d chosen. “All right love. You want to talk. Let’s begin with where my son is, shall we? After that, we can address why you feel the need to hide so well no one can find you, and then we’ll move on to your knowledge of cold ones.”
She glared. “You have quite the list. How about we start with my questions? Like why you searched for me.”
He shrugged. “I desired to find you.”
“Why?”
“Because one night, I found, was not nearly enough.”
Her brow quirked. “You always get what you want?”
“Yes,” he drawled, “eventually.” That supremely confidant look was back and she couldn’t bring herself to slight him for it. Put simply, it fit him, and she got the impression it wasn't mere bravado. It was too natural on him; too deeply ingrained to be a front.
Reaching over, she clicked on the lamp and sat back, taking a sip from her glass as she curled her legs under her while studying him. He calmly stared back, unaffected, or so it seemed to her. Then something suddenly occurred to her and she laughed.
He took a drink from his glass and glanced askance at her with a smirk. “Something amuses you?”
“Yes,” she said simply as her laughter tapered into a smile.
“Care to share?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “It just occurred to me that I don’t even know your name.”
Amusement danced in his eyes as a wry smile tugged at his lips. “Yes, well, you were the one who insisted on no words passing between us if you’ll recall.”
She saluted with her glass. “You got me there,” she conceded. “So, tell me then. What is it?”
Rising from his chair, he stepped toward her, took her hand and bowed over it. “Niklaus Mikaelson, your humble servant,” he said with a kiss to her knuckles while glancing up through his lashes. Her heart skipped a beat and he smirked before straightening to retake his seat.
“Jesus, you’re dangerous,” she muttered while trying to slow her racing heart.
He retrieved his glass from the side table, took a drink and muttered behind the rim, “To all but you, yes my dear Isabella.”
He watched as all amusement drained from her countenance. “I disagree, Niklaus Mikaelson. I’ve a feeling you have the potential to destroy me more fully than anyone ever has.”
He frowned. “You’re truly frightened.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“And yet, you weren’t when I showed my true self.”
“True,” she agreed, and he knew the truth of it; could feel it as if her fear was his own where he hadn’t felt it earlier.
“You’ve been hurt before,” he deduced and her gaze shot to his.
“Yes,” she said flatly.
“By whom,” he inquired, just barely restraining a growl.
With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her forehead and set her glass aside. “It ties in with your questions, so I suppose it’s time for me to answer.”
She looked into his eyes and he gave a nod. “I’m listening.”
And so she launched into the story of her move to Forks. Of meeting Edward and his family; of the nomads, culminating into what her life was now with Victoria still out there, evading and ready to strike if she ever finds her.
His hand curled around his glass and it was only through supreme control that he refrained from shattering it as cold rage, such that he’d never felt before, filled him. He felt his face change and he looked away with a clenched jaw when he heard her suck in a breath. “Niklaus?” she murmured, sitting forward in her chair. “Are you all right?”
She began to rise and he held up a hand while dropping his head. “No, don’t,” he told her lowly as he struggled against the baser part of himself. He looked at her then, his burning, amber gaze piercing her through and she met it squarely, without a trace of fear.
Without breaking eye contact, she rose and went to him, taking his glass and setting it aside before straddling his lap. He was astonished as she ran her fingers through his hair while pressing her cheek to his. “Everything’s fine,” she murmured. “I’m here, with you, and everything’s fine.”
“Dominic…” he said and she shook her head while placing soft kisses on his jaw and neck.
“He’s safe.”
“Where?” he asked while pulling her close.
“With my surrogate father. He won’t let anything happen to him. I trust him,” she said while leaning back enough to meet his gaze. She noted with relief that his features had returned to normal as she rubbed her hand over his stubbled cheek while kissing him softly.
He leaned back, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “That may very well be Isabella, but I want him here, with me.” His stare was intense as he looked at her and her brow creased as she slowly stood from his lap.
“All right,” she agreed, seeing how tense he still was as she retrieved her phone. “I’ll ask him to bring Dominic home.”
“Thank you,” he said, his tone still tense.
While she made her call, he went into the bedroom to put his shoes on and dispose of his ruined shirt. Once he’d tossed it in the wastebasket, he took out his phone and called his brother who picked up on the fourth ring, probably just to annoy him.
“Did you know, brother,” Elijah drawled, “the local book store closes at five in this thrice damned town? Had to go all the way across town to the Barnes & Noble.”
“A hardship, I’m sure,” Klaus replied flatly. “You can come in now. I’m ready for you to meet her and there are things we need to discuss.”
“She’s not going to shoot me as well, is she?” Elijah asked and Klaus barely resisted an eye roll at the amusement he heard in his voice.
“Something tells me you enjoyed that entirely too much. No, she won’t shoot you, but I may if you bring it up again.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll be right there,” he said. “Oh, speaking of gunfire, I had to compel her neighbors and one very upset maintenance man after that bit of fun. You owe me, brother.”
“So you say,” Klaus said with a smirk. “And as long as we’re on the subject of favors, bring my bag in will you? I’ve need of a new shirt.”
Laughter was all he heard as Elijah ended the call, and he shook his head as he pocketed his phone and went back into the living room.
He noticed she’d straightened up a bit. The gun was no longer on the floor where she’d dropped it and she’d cleared the glasses and bottle of whiskey away. She smiled as he sat beside her on the sofa. “Carlisle will have Dominic home in half an hour or so.”
“Good, I’ll feel much better with both of you here.”
She nodded. “I can understand that, but I still trust Carlisle and need you to know that I wouldn’t put Dominic in danger—ever.”
She jumped at the knock at the door and Klaus patted her leg before rising to get it. “Relax, it’s just my brother.”
“Your brother?” she asked with a frown. “Has he been out there this whole time?”
“Yes,” he answered with a smirk as he pulled the door open. Elijah glided in, handing Klaus his bag on the way by as he extended a hand to Bella.
“Elijah Mikaelson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her eyes were wide as she took in his tailored suit and immaculate form. “Wow,” she said as they shook. “Your family isn’t lacking in the good genes department, are they? And I’m Bella, by the way.”
He deftly lifted her hand and placed a chaste kiss as he smiled. “A fitting name for a remarkably beautiful woman.”
Bella brows shot up and she chuckled while taking her hand back. “You’re very polished. Your brother’s smooth, but has that certain edge to him, but you? They never see you coming do they?”
He smiled and took a seat in the chair, crossing his legs at the knee as she and a freshly clothed Klaus took seats on the sofa. “I don’t know what you mean, Bella. I’m the good brother. Absolutely nothing to fear with me.”
“Uh huh,” she muttered while leaning against Klaus. “You should be a salesman.”
Klaus laughed and kissed Bella’s cheek while Elijah looked a mix between amused and disgusted. “A salesman? Too boorish an occupation for my tastes, I’m afraid,” he said with a smile tugging at his lips.
“Point taken,” she said with a nod. “Still, I stand by my assessment, until you prove me wrong, of course.”
“I’ll consider it a challenge,” he said with a nod as Klaus narrowed his eyes.
“If you’re done flirting, brother?”
Elijah smiled sedately. “For now. What was it we needed to speak about?” he asked, looking to his brother while smoothly changing the subject.
Klaus placed an arm around Bella and pulled her close. “There is a cold one after her. A red-haired female. In the past, Isabella was involved with a coven of cold ones; animal drinkers, three of whom are now attempting to track and destroy this female. I will see it done myself, but Bella and my son need to be safe first.”
“Agreed,” Elijah said, none of his earlier amusement in evidence. He looked formidable; not as overtly dangerous as Klaus, but still not to be trifled with. “Should we call in Rebekah and Kol?”
Klaus frowned as he thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he trusted Rebekah with Balla and their child, simply because of his past track record with his sister. While she wasn’t necessarily vicious, he had to admit, this would be the perfect opportunity for some revenge on her part; something he wasn’t willing to risk. “No,” he answered finally, “Let’s handle this on our own, for now.”
Leaning down, he murmured in Bella’s ear, “I believe we’re about to have a visitor, love.” She looked up at him and his eyes were narrowed as he stared at her door before looking at her. “One without a heartbeat. You trusted my son to a cold one?!”
Anger flared within her and she pulled away and stood. “Yes, I did. He’s perfectly controlled. He’s a doctor and I consider him my father, so get over yourself.”
She marched to the door and Elijah raised a brow at his seething brother. “She has a bit of spirit, that one.”
“Yes, she does,” he muttered before focusing on Bella and the being walking behind her; a being who was eyeing him warily. He and Elijah stood as Bella placed a carrier seat on the coffee table before lifting back the blanket and unstrapping an infant. With a tender smile, she lifted the baby and glanced at Klaus who stared raptly, eyes intense and face expressionless. “Niklaus, meet your son, Dominic Charles.” She kissed the cooing baby’s head and whispered, “Nick, meet your daddy.” With misty eyes and a tentative smile, she placed her son in his father’s arms for the first time and stood back to watch.
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.