by Julie Plec
The vast majority of the remaining vampires were Klaus’s progeny, the ones he had recently created to form his army. But there were others, like Lisette and that new toy of Rebekah’s, and Klaus could see his siblings counting their numbers and recalling each of their names. Lovers, friends, servants, and soldiers: All of them would have to die in order to save Elijah, except for one.
Each of the three Mikaelsons surely had that “one” in mind, but as Klaus looked at Lisette, perched on the bench with his brother’s head in her lap, he knew which vampire would be spared. A hundred vampires would have to die at the hands of the Originals, and when it was all said and done, Lisette would be left standing.
It made the prospect of dismantling his army even more painful to Klaus, but there was no point in dwelling. Elijah needed this, and Klaus would be damned if he was going to stand between his brother and a cure.
“I think the witches are lying,” Rebekah stated, folding her arms across her chest. “They want us to decimate our own kind to benefit them, and they thought we’d be so desperate to save Elijah that we would fall for their tricks.”
Klaus lifted the books that Amalia had given him so that the group could read their titles. “They know us too well, and already followed that train of thought. Here’s the evidence they provided,” he said. “I’ve only skimmed it myself, but I’ve found no reason not to believe what I was told. The only question that remains, as far as I’m concerned, is how we make the most of this unfortunate turn of events. How can we best turn it to our advantage?”
“Advantage?” Lisette repeated, her mouth open in disbelief. “The deaths of a hundred of your...of us, and you want to ‘make the most’ of it?”
“You can’t be surprised,” Rebekah said. “Our Niklaus doesn’t do anything unless it benefits him.”
“If we’re already doing this,” he pointed out, more stung by his sister’s accusation than he dared to admit, “why not find a way—”
“We’ll see if you really are doing this,” Rebekah muttered under her breath, but still clearly enough to be heard.
“Would you care to repeat that?” Klaus asked, his eyes narrowing. “Is there something else you want to say to me, Rebekah?” It was just like her to take a bad situation and make it worse with petty accusations.
“I think you heard exactly what I said,” she replied, sitting up and leaning forward. “I think you’re looking for a way to turn a hundred murders to your advantage, because if there is no gain for you, you’ll find an excuse not to go through with it.”
Klaus jumped from his chair, ignoring Elijah’s weak protest. “How dare you?” he demanded. “While you were off dallying with that pirate you’re so fond of, leaving Lisette to chase down Elijah, I was out there finding a solution to this mess. I went to the witches I despise and gave them a third of our city for our brother, and you dare to suggest I won’t give more?”
“I know you, Niklaus,” Rebekah spat, not bothering to rise from her seat. “I’m sure you believe you’ll do whatever it takes to save Elijah, but I also believe that you’ll save yourself first. It’s who you are—it’s in your blood.”
It was a low blow, and they all knew it. Klaus had been raised as a Mikaelson, but he wasn’t a full one by birth, and it was perfectly clear which half of his parentage Rebekah thought was to blame for his opportunistic nature. Klaus turned to Elijah, but his brother wouldn’t meet his eyes, and that was all Klaus needed to see.
“You can both go to hell,” he snapped. “Do what you want with the city and its vampires. If you still don’t trust me after all I’ve done, then Elijah can rot for all I care.”
He kicked the chair behind him for emphasis, feeling just the slightest twinge of satisfaction as the leather split and the wood disintegrated. He stalked out of the room, leaving his family to suffer in the cesspool they had made for themselves.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
REBEKAH SPRANG UP from her daybed, rushing to intercept Klaus before he could leave the mansion. It was so typical of him to storm off, leaving the rest of them to do all the hard work themselves. But Rebekah knew that her life would be much easier if Klaus was on her side. She’d gone too far in the heat of the moment, and she’d found Klaus’s weak spot. Once again, the humans had found a way to drive the Mikaelsons apart.
“Don’t you dare walk out on me,” she ordered, throwing herself between her brother and the wreckage of the shattered front door. “Don’t you dare walk out on him.”
“You don’t think I’ll lift a finger to help him anyway.” Klaus glowered, although he didn’t make any move to push his way past her. “You think I’d let Elijah suffer to protect my army. I made them to be disposable. That’s what soldiers do, Rebekah—they die.”
“Perhaps that was unfair of me. But, Niklaus, this catastrophe seems to change its face every hour. I’m feeling buffeted from every side, and—”
“It didn’t look like you minded much earlier,” Klaus taunted, and for a moment Rebekah felt the movement of the ocean beneath her again. Trust him to notice what she had been up to and then judge her for it. Just because Klaus hadn’t managed to love another soul besides his own in the twenty-two years since Vivianne’s death didn’t make him superior to the lesser beings who eventually moved on from grief.
“That’s beside the point,” Rebekah answered, grinding her teeth together in frustration. She couldn’t even think about Luc, not knowing what was next for him. “None of us is at our best right now, but that’s when we need each other the most. You know that’s what Elijah would tell us, only he’s too weak to come running after you this time. We need to work together, not tear our little family apart.”
“Elijah needs his cure, not for us to hold hands and cooperate.” Klaus shrugged. He could convey such contempt with that simple gesture that Rebekah nearly slapped him, but more fighting was just the excuse Klaus needed to go off on his own again.
“A hundred vampires will put up a fight,” she replied, clenching her fists to keep them by her sides. “Even with the best of intentions, Niklaus, this is not a task for you alone. You’ve already spent days building new alliances and doling out favors, so why not call in a few of those now? Bring Sampson and your new witch friends into play, and together we can make short work of this disagreeable task. There will be a full moon tonight, and no better time for us all to band together and do what must be done.”
“No better time to destroy Tomás and his followers?” Luc asked from the curved staircase, and Rebekah turned a little at the sound of his voice.
“That’s the spirit, Luc.” Klaus looked up at him, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “We might as well make the most of my army while I still have it.”
Luc frowned a little, his blue eyes puzzled, and Rebekah took a deep breath and gave Luc a smile. He hadn’t heard enough of the conversation to figure out that her family was about to commit mass murder, and she certainly wasn’t about to tell him.
“You said you learned nothing of use during your pursuit of Tomás,” she called up to him. “But now you speak of destroying him. Did you think of some clue you had overlooked before?” Rebekah longed to protect him somehow from the fate that awaited him, and she held her breath, hoping that he would be clever enough to demonstrate his usefulness to Klaus. Only one vampire could survive the cure, and as much as Rebekah loved Lisette, she wanted Luc to have a fighting chance as well.
“I said I found nothing but hints and rumors,” Luc corrected, descending the rest of the stairs. “But those can be meaningful as well, especially with a little time to put them together.”
“Is that what you were doing up there?” Klaus asked, although now he looked more amused than scornful. “I had no idea our Rebekah had taken up with such an intellectual.”
“Shut up,” Rebekah sighed. “Luc is trying to help, and you can’t even be decent enough to
listen.”
“I have an idea of where the humans might be,” Luc went on, ignoring Klaus’s dig. He’d been around long enough to know that it was better to let such taunts roll off him—something Lisette had never quite gotten the hang of. Rebekah bit her lip, willing herself to stop comparing the two. “I intended to go investigate myself before bringing the possibility to you, but if you would prefer to go in more force, I feel fairly confident that I’m right.”
Before Rebekah could answer, the sound of the protection spell wailed in the walls, signaling the approach of someone toward the house. It could hardly be a vampire in broad daylight, so all three of them turned toward the door, ready to strike at some unexpected enemy.
“What an interesting idea for an entryway,” a voice drawled, and Rebekah sized up the newcomer with interest. She was tall and slender, and her only adornment was her waterfall of thick black hair, liberally streaked with white. Klaus’s posture relaxed. He seemed to recognize her, and Rebekah gathered that this was the leader of the witches. “Is this the newest fashion in front doors? I’m afraid we haven’t quite caught on in the bayou.” The woman poked at the splintered wood with one pointy-toed boot.
She couldn’t come any farther, even with the door gone. The protection spell would keep her out, Rebekah realized with a certain smug satisfaction. “Can we help you, witch?” she asked, pointedly not inviting her inside.
“You’ve already done enough for me.” The witch smirked, and Klaus’s jaw tightened. A third of the city had better be enough, Rebekah agreed silently. Maybe Klaus had been right all along: Maybe New Orleans wasn’t big enough for three warring supernatural clans. “My name is Amalia Giroux, and I have come to offer you help.”
“Just like that?” Klaus sounded skeptical, and Rebekah could hear the anger that ran through his voice. “You weren’t inclined to offer any favors the last time we met.”
“I’ve traced the provenance of the vinaya vines that your humans cultivated,” Amalia explained, ignoring the tension of their meeting. “As we suspected, no witch here had a hand in the trafficking of such dangerous stuff. But we are still not as blameless as I had hoped. Some of my people had dealings with those who traded with Tomás, and a few of them knew more about his scheming than they thought to share with me at the time.”
Klaus began to speak, but Amalia cut him off before he could even begin. “I have dealt with my people,” she continued firmly. “I will not turn them over to you, or even name them. But harm was done, and I have come in good faith to help you set it right.”
“How?” Rebekah asked, genuinely curious. “With vague generalities and a healthy dose of guilt?”
“With warriors,” Amalia corrected stiffly. Her perceptive brown eyes landed on Luc, sizing him up in a way that made Rebekah nervous. “I have an army at my disposal, for...whatever it is that you may need destroyed.”
Rebekah shifted so that her body blocked the witch’s view of her lover. If he had to die, she would see all the others die first. Luc had saved her life, he had seen her true self. Rebekah didn’t intend to give him up until she was sure there was no choice left. “An army to lead against the humans, you mean,” she suggested.
Klaus made a noise that sounded obnoxiously like a scoff, and Rebekah shot him a glare.
“Tomás has been posing as a merchant,” Luc said, ignoring the strange undercurrent of the conversation. He had stayed well back from the door, avoiding the sunlight that spilled in through its empty frame. “I’ve spent the last few nights trying to find out more about his secrets, but his legitimate pursuits also intrigued me. He has warehouses by the river for his lawful business, and I believe that his followers use one of his buildings for their more rebellious activities.”
“That sounds like a reasonable possibility to me,” Klaus agreed, his mind catching on to something. Rebekah could tell he hadn’t given up on the possibility of coming out of this disaster as the victor—no matter how slim the margins. But how?
“Amalia,” Klaus mused, “if your witches helped Tomás amass his collection, might they know where those objects were sent? Surely a merchant—even one leading a double life—would use his own ships and warehouses for those kinds of trades.”
“I will find out,” Amalia agreed.
“Do it quickly, love, for we must attack tonight,” Klaus said. “The full moon won’t wait for us, and we will need every advantage against the humans—the werewolves must be in their natural form. The cult of Janus has weapons that can harm each one of us, and together we stand a better chance of overwhelming and destroying them once and for all. When that’s done we will deal with Elijah’s curse.”
Rebekah knew what Klaus wouldn’t say in front of Luc: He would let as many vampires die in the battle as necessary to destroy the human threat, before the Originals and their allies turned on the rest. But Klaus seemed too relaxed, too easy, and Rebekah sensed that there was more to his plan than even she understood.
The parlor door opened and Elijah and Lisette stepped out. Elijah leaned heavily on Lisette’s shoulder, taking small steps. He gave the witch a nod—he knew who she was. Elijah never stopped governing his city, even in these dire circumstances.
“Are you certain your brother can wait for you to wage war on the humans?” Amalia said, acknowledging Elijah’s entrance, but still speaking to Klaus. It was as if she thought Elijah was too frail to answer for himself, or that his mind had been weakened by the pain he was enduring.
“My brother is right,” Elijah answered firmly. “My cure can wait for a few hours or even an entire night, but Tomás and his people can’t. I want them out of my city—now.”
Rebekah expected Luc to react somehow, to ask what Elijah meant about a cure. But Luc seemed oblivious to the implication of Elijah’s words, and he didn’t so much as glance toward Rebekah for an explanation.
“You should be resting, Elijah,” Rebekah said after a long moment.
“There is still time to rest before the battle tonight,” Elijah disagreed, and Rebekah felt her eyes widen as she understood the full extent of his words.
“You’re not coming along,” she blurted. “You couldn’t possibly.”
“You may need me,” Elijah argued, although it was obvious to everyone that he could barely stand, much less fight.
“At the risk of being indelicate, brother, you may turn on us,” Klaus pointed out. “You’re not cured yet, and until you are you’re a danger to all of us.”
“I’ll be fine,” Elijah insisted, and Lisette bit her lip. She was afraid to argue with him, Rebekah thought uncharitably, afraid to jeopardize her connection to Elijah and, along with it, her life.
Rebekah felt the ball of dread in her stomach continue to grow. No matter what she told herself, she wasn’t convinced that Luc would be allowed to live. And if he did, it would only be because Rebekah lost Lisette, who had been a friend to her for decades. Tomás had promised that Rebekah would lose everything, and sure enough, the things she loved kept getting stripped away.
Marguerite was dead and gone—at best, she was only a pawn in this cruel game. Luc and Lisette might not survive to see the end of the night, and Elijah... Elijah was going to insist on riding into battle no matter what anyone said to stop him. And that meant Rebekah might lose him, too.
“It’s decided, then,” Klaus announced, his voice ringing clearly up and down the front hall. “We will meet near the warehouses just after moonrise, and, Amalia, you will lead us to the correct hideout. We’ll send word to the werewolves, and Tomás will find three armies at his doorstep tonight.”
Amalia curtseyed deeply, although her head remained proudly unbent. “My people will be yours tonight,” she agreed, “and then our debt will be paid.” She turned on her heel and left without the traditional farewell, leaving the five vampires to stare at her departing back.
“I nee
d a moment with my brothers,” Rebekah continued when she was sure the witch couldn’t hear. “Lisette, Luc...please.”
She took Elijah’s arm, nodding encouragingly to Lisette. The younger vampire reluctantly let Elijah’s weight pass from her shoulders to Rebekah’s. Then Lisette smoothed her hair back and hooked her arm through Luc’s. “Come,” she told him, her voice bright with false cheer. “We’ll spread the word to the others and make sure everything is prepared for tonight.”
Luc glanced over his shoulder as Lisette led him away, but Rebekah was scared to meet his gaze, troubled at what truths he might find in her eyes. Once he was gone, Rebekah turned to her brothers. “Elijah, the whole point of this desperate scheme is to save your life. Are you really willing to risk it just so you can observe the last battle of a hundred doomed vampires?”
“If they’re all going to die for me one way or another, the least I can do is fight with them,” Elijah replied calmly. Rebekah could feel his pulse racing through his skin, and up close she could see that his jaw was clenched tightly against the pain. “I won’t risk the possibility that Tomás might slip through our fingers because I was in too much pain to stop him. I’m an Original; I’m stronger than that.”
“And when the vinaya starts calling to you again like it did last night?” Klaus demanded. He stalked into the drawing room, pulling a small iron key from his pocket as he went.
“Niklaus,” Rebekah warned, but he refused to acknowledge her.
Instead, Klaus unlocked the iron box that held the White Oak stake and held it up for Elijah to see. “Don’t make us kill you in the middle of all we’re doing to save you.”
Elijah’s dark eyebrows lifted in surprise, and he leaned a bit more heavily on Rebekah’s arm. “That’s a step up from your silver daggers, brother,” he said at last. “I have every confidence that you’ll use it if you must.”