by Julie Plec
“We need to get him home at least,” she muttered. “He doesn’t belong out here. He should be home with us while we try to work this out.”
Klaus lifted Elijah across his shoulder, taking a moment to test his balance. Then he walked out of the cabin without another word in his own defense.
Rebekah pulled down one of the curtains and used the hearth to set it ablaze, then laid it against the flimsy wooden wall. Sparks flew and flames licked up the fabric. Soon the entire cabin was on fire. Alejandra’s corpse, the dangerous vines, and any memories this place contained went up in smoke. If the humans needed a reminder of what happened when you crossed the Originals, then this pile of ashes would have to serve.
The fire caught quickly, spreading along the thin walls and growing brighter as it overtook the rafters. Rebekah smelled something bitter when the first of the vines began to burn, and she hurried from the cabin with the sleeve of her gown pressed over her mouth and nose.
The humans were long gone. Rebekah had no doubt that Tomás was rounding them up right now, and he would recruit new rebels the moment he returned to New Orleans. He would want to avenge his sibling. Anyone would.
Rebekah and Klaus rowed their way back along the stagnant river, refusing to inhale deeply until they had climbed up out of the bayou at last. Rebekah remained alert for any sign that they were being watched. The humans had gotten the upper hand too many times thanks to the Mikaelsons’ inattention, and she was done being complacent.
Lisette was seated on the front steps of the mansion when they arrived, looking like a child who’d been locked out of the house. Rebekah frankly couldn’t understand what had gone wrong between her and Elijah. Lisette had always been a good friend to her, and Rebekah couldn’t imagine her doing anything to deserve the pain her break with Elijah had put her through.
“Open the door, Lisette,” Rebekah called out, unable to stand the sight of the vampire looking so lost and hopeless.
“Hurry,” Klaus added as Lisette jumped to her feet. “Elijah needs rest.”
“We have no idea what he needs,” Rebekah said, unwilling to let Klaus forget his crime so easily, “and the only person who does know is dead.”
“I’m sure we can torture it out of Tomás if we need to,” Klaus answered, angling his body to bring Elijah through the front door without knocking him against the frame. “But I doubt that will even be necessary. He’ll recover now that the bitch’s fingers are out of his brain.”
Elijah shuddered and groaned, and Lisette’s pale hand caught at Rebekah’s sleeve. “What does he mean?” she asked, her voice trembling a little as her gaze tracked every second of Klaus’s progress up the curving staircase. “Was it his...his new...I mean, what was done to him?”
“He’s been possessed,” Rebekah explained, shaking out her burnt and muddy petticoats with a heavy sigh. “And yes, Alejandra Vargas is the one who’s responsible, and she has already answered for her crime. Unfortunately, before she died, she told us that the possession wouldn’t end with her death. Klaus thought that was a lie, but I think we can all see that it was not.”
“Possessed,” Lisette whispered. Rebekah rested her hand on the vampire’s shoulder. Lisette’s gray eyes never left Klaus’s back, even as she gave Rebekah a sad smile. “She was a witch, then?”
“She seems to know some.” Rebekah frowned. The twins were alarmingly well informed and well supplied for humans, and she suspected that was another unfortunate result of the Originals growing too comfortable in New Orleans. Humans shouldn’t even know about vampires’ existence, much less how to fight them. Rebekah knew that was partially her fault. The Mikaelsons had grown careless, and that would have to change if they wanted to survive. “She had no magic of her own, but she and her brother had a generous supply of something called vinaya powder.”
“What a strange name.” Lisette frowned. “What do we know about it?”
“Not much,” Rebekah admitted. Even after seeing it at work and experiencing its effects for herself, the substance was still a mystery. All she really knew was that she wanted to destroy it, along with every human whose hands had ever touched the vile powder.
Lisette bit her lip and pulled away. “I’ll go pull books in Elijah’s study,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m of more use there than at his bedside.”
Rebekah didn’t argue. It couldn’t hurt to learn more about their enemies’ powder, and Lisette’s worried look only made Rebekah more troubled.
A pained cry came from Elijah’s bedroom, and Rebekah hurried upstairs. Klaus’s full mouth was drawn in concern as Rebekah reached Elijah’s bedside. She took one of her brother’s hands in each of hers. Elijah’s was unnaturally cold, and damp with sweat.
“Come back to us, brother,” Rebekah whispered, feeling the full weight of her fears descend on her heart. What if the real Elijah never did return? How would she survive without him?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ELIJAH FELT LIKE his entire body was on fire. It was impossible to distinguish his hallucinations from real life. His entire world had become dreams and shadows, and he wandered through them in endless pain. Alejandra was gone. Her absence left a gaping hole in Elijah—there was nothing left of him but a burning that filled every part his mind. It was impossible to move without her, impossible to live. Yet here he was, somehow alive, despite everything.
He could hear his siblings calling to him, but he had no idea how to find them. He was trapped in an infinite forest that sometimes became a swamp, although the merciless sun beat down on the back of his neck, making the place feel like an endless desert.
Sometimes his mother was there, and once he was sure that he saw his father gripping a White Oak stake from behind a hawthorn tree. As Elijah ran, Mikael stalked him through tall swamp grasses, his face hidden by shadows.
“I’m here,” Rebekah whispered in Elijah’s ear, and he could feel that Klaus was nearby, too. He had seen Klaus...he had fought him. First at the Southern Spot, then again, with Alejandra riding him like a broken horse. She had been inside his head, filling every corner of his mind with her voice, her scent, and her relentless will. She had told him his siblings were done with him, that they were better off without him.
But she was wrong. Rebekah and Klaus were with him now, and that had to mean something. Elijah struggled to open his eyes, to see if his siblings were really by his side, but it felt like red-hot pins had been pushed through his eyelids, fixing them in place.
Every muscle in his body strained against his closed eyelids, and he felt them lightly twitch. Somewhere above him either his mother or Rebekah gasped in surprise. It was working. He worked harder, fighting against the blank space that used to be Alejandra, and his eyes fluttered open at last.
The ceiling above him looked like the one in his own bedroom, which meant he was hallucinating. Elijah knew he was still in the cabin, and that he would probably never be allowed to leave. Alejandra had told him so, yesterday or the day before or the day before that.
Two pairs of concerned blue eyes stared down at him. He’d brought his two siblings together at last, another sign that this wasn’t really happening.
“You’re safe,” Klaus assured him. His forehead was creased with worry. “You’re home, and you’re going to be all right.” He felt Klaus’s hand on his shoulder, and the weight and feel of his skin felt real. Was he actually in his room? Was he safe?
“Can you speak?” Rebekah asked. “Alejandra said she used vinaya powder on you, but I’d never even heard of the stuff until a few days ago. We need to know what she did in order to reverse it.”
Elijah tested his lips and tongue, trying to guess how his voice might sound if he managed to force it out of his dry, cracked throat. “Thirsty,” he rasped, and Rebekah jumped up at once.
“I’ll go get someone for you,” she said, and then she disappear
ed from view.
He was almost sure now that he really was awake. He could feel the softness of the mattress beneath him, and the smell of fresh flowers in the room. Nothing in his dreams had been so difficult as opening his eyes had been, and none of his hallucinations had stayed put for as long as this.
Even Rebekah had left in the usual way, by announcing her departure and then walking away, instead of hovering or vanishing or turning into someone else. He really was in his own bed...but that meant the pain that seared every inch of his body was real as well.
“Your Alejandra played a lot of games, brother,” Klaus remarked, and Elijah could hear the resentment seething beneath his casual tone. “She divided us, and intended to have us at each other’s throats in the hope that she wouldn’t have to kill us all herself.”
She didn’t have far to go when it came to me and you, Elijah thought. She got too close.
“I think she had something to do with that nasty little scene between us before you left,” Klaus went on. “You thought I was working with the werewolves against you, didn’t you? We were trying to take out Janus, but my guess is that she filled you with a bunch of half-truths and sent you to the Southern Spot at just the right time to hear just the wrong things.”
Elijah struggled to remember what had happened with Klaus at the brothel. What, exactly, had he overheard? What had he and Klaus said to each other during their confrontation? The memory was hazy and indistinct, like everything else in Elijah’s brain at the moment.
Then he felt the sheer scope of Alejandra’s betrayal at last, undermining everything he had come to believe over the past few weeks. She had lied about everything, but her cunning went further than that. Elijah had believed her when she said Rebekah had run off and Klaus was plotting against him, but they had never forsaken him. It was he who had failed them.
“I’m sorry,” Elijah said after a long moment, and Klaus nodded, his mouth in a firm line.
Rebekah returned, holding the wrist of a young blonde woman with large, doe-like eyes. She looked vaguely familiar, and Elijah had a dim memory of blood that tasted like strawberries and sandalwood. She gasped a little when Rebekah opened the inside of her arm, which suggested that she wasn’t under the control of a vampire’s compulsion. She was simply a willing volunteer, another human who had been pulled into their world.
Elijah drank gratefully from the girl’s wrist. He could feel her blood coursing through his own veins, soothing and repairing some of the horrible damage Alejandra and her powder had wrought.
Some, but not all. No matter how much he drank, Elijah couldn’t seem to chase away the misery that Alejandra’s absence had left behind. Even worse, he couldn’t drink away the sting of her betrayal, or the knowledge that he had given his heart to someone who had proven so thoroughly undeserving of it. He grew stronger on the girl’s blood, but although he drank until she swayed on her feet and her lips were tinged with blue, Elijah couldn’t consume enough to feel whole.
“That’s enough for now,” Rebekah decided, watching the girl’s face critically. “Sloane, go downstairs and get some rest.”
“Good. Now that that’s out of the way, we have much to discuss,” Klaus began after the girl fled unsteadily from the room. “Tomás is still out there somewhere, and he’s infiltrated our lives to an alarming degree. I think we should—”
“Shut up, Niklaus,” Rebekah snapped. With the human out of sight and mind, her deep blue eyes were riveted on Elijah’s. “Don’t you see? He’s still in pain. Even half the blood in that poor girl’s body wasn’t enough to undo what you did to him.”
“Alejandra?” Elijah said as firmly as he could. The sound of her name made his heart clench, but he needed to keep his siblings focused. The humans had already gained an alarming head start, and the last thing the Originals needed was to keep fighting with one another. They might as well un-dagger Kol and Finn while they were at it, and send a ship to fetch Mikael.
“Your beloved brother tore her head from her shoulders,” Rebekah said coldly, and Elijah felt that space again, that emptiness in his mind where his former lover had once been. It hurt more than anything he had ever experienced. And somewhere beneath it, in a place that was difficult to drag up through the pain, was a sensation almost like grief. He missed her. He wanted her back.
“Alejandra warned us that killing her wouldn’t save you, that it would only make things worse. She said her death would break something inside of you,” Rebekah finished.
Klaus looked as close to unsure as Elijah had ever seen him. “That two-faced palm reader did nothing but lie,” he argued. “Elijah just needs a few more moments to let the blood work, that’s all. Brother, try to sit up.”
His mind had cleared a bit, and his limbs felt stronger. With tremendous effort, Elijah made it to his elbows, then pushed up to a seated position. But as soon as he was upright, his head began to spin. Rebekah caught his shoulders before he collapsed.
“Close enough,” she said, sharing a look with Klaus.
“Vinaya powder,” Elijah said, testing the lips and tongue. They were beginning to feel like they belonged to him again. “It was made to be a weapon. Against us.”
The other two fell silent for a moment, considering the implications of what he’d said. They’d all grown accustomed to being nearly invincible. Even injuries that could kill common vampires didn’t affect the Mikaelsons.
The very idea that something could have been created to destroy them felt wrong, dissonant with everything they had come to believe about the world. A White Oak stake could kill them and Klaus’s silver daggers could put them in a deep sleep, but there had never been another weapon that could truly harm them. Until now.
Elijah licked his dry lips, summoning the strength to continue. “Vinaya was supposed to be a legend. Centuries ago, witches worked a spell on a vine that grows on the other side of the world, imbuing it with power. Supposedly it grew beyond their intentions or control, but no one has ever proven it even exists.”
“There was a strange plant that grew over that cabin in the bayou. But that cabin is gone now, and the vine with it,” Rebekah assured him. “Tomás won’t be able to make more vinaya, and he can’t have taken that much with him when he fled.”
“Good,” Elijah said, and took a deep breath. He tried to suppress the part of himself that wished there was more powder, and Alejandra to feed it to him. He knew that was only the spell that had woven itself into his mind, but its grip was strong.
“But if the vine was enchanted, witches must have been the ones to do it,” Rebekah guessed, brushing some honey-colored strands of hair away from her face. “We still have a few of those left around here. Perhaps they know something about this kind of magic.”
“The last people I want to involve in this mess are the witches,” Klaus muttered, jumping up from his chair to pace across the Turkish carpet. “There are no more witches left in this city as far as I’m concerned.”
“This isn’t the time to be stubborn,” Rebekah replied. “They’re still out there in that sad little town they built on the swamp, and they might be able to help Elijah.”
“They might,” Elijah agreed. The more he spoke, the stronger his voice felt. “Vinaya is their legend as much as ours. Maybe more.”
“Finding an antidote isn’t worth the cost of dealing with the witches,” Klaus said. “I won’t do it.”
Elijah gripped the quilt with both fists, trying to control the surge of his emotions. He needed Klaus on his side now, so naturally Klaus would choose this moment to turn his back on his brother. “You say you were never my enemy, Niklaus, but if that’s true, then act like it,” he urged. “I can’t stay trapped like this forever.”
Klaus refused to look at him.
“Even if it means negotiating with the witches; even if it means throwing yourself at their feet and begging them f
or a cure,” Elijah pressed. “You have to do this for me.”
Klaus looked furious and clenched his jaw—as if that was the only thing that prevented him from refusing outright. But to put his pride before his vow to his family would be unforgivable. All three of them knew that.
“I’ll go today,” Klaus agreed at last, and Elijah sank back against his pillows, his breath short and his heart heavy.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“IT SHOULD BE right here,” Klaus grumbled, feeling at the empty air in front of him and cursing his siblings’ stubbornness yet again. He had never had a reason to seek out the witches’ hidden compound until now, and he would have been just as happy never to know where it was.
Sampson Collado scanned the ground. “I don’t see anything there,” he said, and Klaus fought the urge to simply snap his neck.
“It’s invisible,” he reminded the werewolf, drawing out the word in case Sampson needed to hear it more slowly. “Not seeing it is the entire point.”
“There must be something to see.” Sampson shrugged. He had spent the last half hour insisting that the witches must have some kind of marker at the entrance. As if they wanted visitors, as if he and Klaus would be welcomed with open arms. “Does that yellowish stone look out of place to you?”
“It does not.” The field was full of stones, and they all looked exactly the same. Klaus was already out of sorts and Sampson wasn’t helping. He hated that he was being pressured to deal with the witches who had delighted in his torment twenty-two years before. It was even more irritating to have to bring a werewolf puppy along as well. But a show of unity might help inspire the witches to cooperate, and Sampson had argued that point persuasively. How would it look if their ancestral enemy—the vampires—had shown up alone, demanding to strike yet another doomed bargain? Klaus had to agree that even the witches weren’t that stupid.