What's At Stake, Part Six

This got kind of long.  Sorry. 

A note:  If you're wondering where a couple of references in this story are coming from, they go back to my one-off, "Don't Look".  I'm using that as the emotional backdrop/landscape for Elijah, so if something hasn't made sense, that may clear it up.

Aaaaaaaand, in this installment (actually, in all of them, pretty much), the part of The Exposition Fairy will be played by Jonas.

As always:  Feedback, please!
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Assured that the warlocks would have the containment spell broken before evening's end, Elijah ended the call with Jonas and pulled up another number on his speed dial as he walked from the Gilbert house to his Lexus, parked a little way down the street. His conversation with the doppelganger had given him a lot to think about, but that would have to wait until he had attended to more pressing details.


The woman answered on the third ring. He could hear snippets of various conversations in the background, along with music and the intermittent crack of one billiard ball striking another. "Where are you?" he asked, without introduction or preamble. He assumed none was necessary.

"I'm in town. Some restaurant."

"Did you speak with the mayor?"

"Yeah. And the sheriff. They're opening up an investigation."

Elijah checked the coordinates on his GPS and pulled away from the curb. "And the boy?"

"Met him briefly, but we didn't have a chance to talk. The conversation may be a little more meaningful after tonight, anyway."

"The information I provided was useful, then?"

"Yeah." Elijah could hear irritation and the beginnings of impatience in the woman's voice. Werewolves – so touchy during the full moon. "Which I guess begs the question: What do you want, Elijah?"

"There are a number of elements that, though innocuous in and of themselves, are highly potent when gathered in combination. Vampires, werewolves, witches... a certain little white rock..." he drawled. "I think you know what I'm getting at. I have interest in the Lockwood boy."

"He’s one of us. What makes you think I'm going to just hand him over to you?"

"The weather has been particularly nice in Ocala as of late," he said, conversationally. "Your mother has been working on the front flowerbeds. She finally pulled out that overgrown rhododendron and planted some peonies." At the prompting of the GPS he turned left, heading out of the village area proper and toward the more wooded areas of the old church property. "Oh, and your niece... Jasmine, is it? She won the district spelling bee. There's a regional competition just next week..."

"Okay, fine! I get it," she growled into the phone. "What do you want?"

"Merely to insure that I have a werewolf when and where I need one." Elijah turned onto a gravel road, overgrown to barely a car's width. "I'm assuming you'd rather it not be you, Jules?"

He heard the woman sigh sharply, and wondered just what ill-advised retort she'd bitten off. "I'll be in touch," she said tersely.

The call ended abruptly. Elijah smiled as he killed the engine, turned off the headlights, and waited for Jonas's text to tell him the deed was accomplished.

**********

Elena had been something of a surprise to him. She'd been frightened, to be sure, and no doubt horrified that he'd managed an invitation into the house, but she hadn't panicked and raised the alarm, not once he had shushed her with a gesture.

Her room had offered a fascinating glimpse into her mind. It was well-ordered, and suited to a girl on the cusp of womanhood. Relics of a childhood so recently passed kept company with articles of adulthood, like the small stuffed animal standing guard over make-up and beauty products where they lay carelessly on her vanity. As had been the case downstairs, there were family photos and photos of friends on the shelves and the bureau. A soft blanket and a book left open on the window seat whispered of a penchant for curling up there in the sun to read, or perhaps to write in the journal that he had noticed peeking out from the under the cushion when he'd shifted those items to seat himself. What he'd give to read it and gain further insight into the young woman.

Elijah had been prepared for pleas of mercy, for desperate but impossible vows of aid if spared, but Elena hadn't offered those things. Instead, she had been surprisingly astute – tripping right away to the fact that he didn't know Klaus's current whereabouts, weighing his actions to date against the words he offered, smartly questioning how he might accomplish the things he promised. She was a clever girl.

Clever, and brave. She had recognized that he did not guarantee her safety as he did that of those she loved. He was sure he'd seen that understanding flash through her eyes. It hadn't stopped her from accepting his deal, though, not once she was assured of her friends' and family's safety, which to all appearances was of more paramount concern to her than her own. She had even negotiated for the younger Salvatore's release. Nothing about the meeting had been quite as he had expected.

It had been so very different with Katerina.

***********

Mere weeks had passed since Klaus had returned from a visit to his southern holdings, but already his new mistress had caused untold upheaval in the household. Elijah had been careful to keep his distance, allowing the shock and the pain of her sudden appearance to dissipate somewhat before attempting direct contact with the woman.

Even from afar, though, it was not difficult to ascertain the effect her presence there was having. None but he and Klaus knew of Katerina's true destiny and purpose; to the rest she was simply the utterly spoiled and entitled mistress to the master of the house, a role she played with evident relish. Nor did she yet know the true nature of the company she kept. Elijah suspected she would not so much be horrified as intrigued by the contemplation of eternal youth and beauty, vain creature that she was.

Katerina flaunted the new gowns and sparkling gemstones Klaus showered upon her under the noses of the other women, using her sharp tongue to prod them to jealousy when her baubles were insufficient to the task. Klaus's lavish attentions were apparently not enough for her, though; she bedeviled the men with her flirtations, causing rift upon rift between men and their wives and betwixt close friends who strove to be first in her affections.

Frightened as they were of Klaus, no man dared press himself upon his mistress, and she used that fact to entice them almost beyond bearing. After Elijah had broken up his third fight that week between grown men – vampires! – who should damn well have known better, he had had enough.

With Klaus away for a couple of days, Elijah expected that Katerina's games would ramp up to new levels of deviousness, and he was thus unsurprised when she returned to her chamber so late at night. He had been waiting there, in the dark, for hours when she finally made her appearance. He sat motionless, hearing the rustle of her clothing as she worked the laces loose from the velvet. Once he heard her step free of the dress and pad toward the bed, he struck flint and lit the candle waiting beside him on the table.

"Good evening, Katerina."

Katerina shrieked and whirled around, eyes wide. Though her shift covered everything of import, her arms still crossed protectively over her breasts. He continued to sit, and when he made no move toward her, she let them drop, quickly growing bold as she recovered from being startled.

"You're Elijah. Klaus's second-in-command."

"Yes."

"I've seen you, here and there about the estate." She tilted her head in what he supposed she thought was a fetching manner. "You've been watching me."

"I have."

"Yet you wait until now, when Klaus is away, to make formal introduction, and in such a... provocative manner." She stalked in a slow circle around the far side of the table, drawing to a halt behind his chair. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she leaned in toward him. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she purred.

Elijah slid his hand up to take her wrist, drawing her around in front of him. "You're proving to be quite a distraction to my men."

"Am I?" she demurred.

"Mmm. But I think you know that." He stroked his thumb idly over the pulse on the inside of her wrist.

"Perhaps your men lack discipline; could it be that your training lacks the proper efficacy?" she suggested, stepping closer so that she stood with her knees touching his. Her free hand brushed hair back from his face.

"A general's firmest hand often proves unequal to the softest of caresses from a wanton woman."

“Am I wanton?” Katerina settled herself on his lap and slid her wrist from his fingers to intertwine her own with them, brushing her thumb across the base of his. "I bet your... hand is very firm," she said. She brought their joined hands to her lips and, when he didn't resist, drew one finger into her mouth.

"What game do you think you're playing, Katerina?" he asked, his voice a low warning.

"Why?" she said, her tongue stroking over his fingertips. "Do you want to play with me?"

One moment she was draped across him, languid and suggestive. A split second later, she was flat on her back on the table, Elijah's hand tight around her throat, eyes gone wide with fright to find herself in that predicament with no real sense of how she'd gotten there.

He bent forward so his lips were close to her ear. "Listen very carefully, Katerina; I will not repeat myself: You will stop parading yourself in front of my men like a bitch in heat. You will cease causing trouble between the women, and between the women and their men. You will comport yourself with whatever modicum of class you can conjure… And you will never, ever, touch me again. Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded as best she could with his hand on her neck. He released her as suddenly as he had pinned her, and took a step back. Katerina pulled herself upright. Though tears gathered in her dark eyes, none yet fell. Elijah saw her throat and jaw work as she straightened her shift and let her temper rise. Her intent was plain well before her arm moved.

Elijah caught her wrist again as her hand came up to strike him. "You bastard!" she began, in Bulgarian. "Klaus will – "

"Klaus will allow me to do to you whatever I wish, so long as I leave you alive at its surcease." With his other hand he grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her to look up at him. Catching her gaze, he rolled his will over her, and with it unleashed a cavalcade of images as to just how much torture could be committed upon someone without it killing them.

Her eyes gone wide and blank with terror, Elijah didn't release her until her body sagged, held up only by his grip on her hair, and he smelled the sudden, sharp scent of urine. She fell back onto the floor once he no longer held her up, and scrambled backward until her back fetched up against the bed.

Elijah squatted down so that his eyes were level with hers. "Are we clear?" has asked again, softly.

The tears that hadn't escaped before ran freely down her cheeks. "Y-y-y-yes," she stuttered, her voice trembling along with her body.

"Good," he said, tone friendly, as though none of the preceding had taken place. Giving her a pat on the head, he rose and exited the chamber, leaving her crying and shaking on the floor.

**************

Having heard the noise of the tomb's door being moved, the two vampires came around the corner. The younger Salvatore looked confused; Elijah had, after all, been dead the last time he had seen him, and apparently no one had disavowed him of that notion. Katerina gasped and backed up when she saw who visited. "Elijah!"

"Good evening, Katerina," he said, enjoying the sight of her – dirty, hungry, afraid. "Thank you for having the good sense to be frightened." He turned toward Stefan Salvatore. "Your release has been requested."

"By who?" Stefan asked, obviously still off guard.

By whom, Elijah mentally corrected. "The lovely Elena drives a hard bargain. However, we reached a peaceful agreement, she and I." He stepped back and motioned to Stefan. "Please, come."

"I can't."

"Yes you can," he explained, as though to a particularly dimwitted child. "I've had the spell lifted." This was the one to whom Elena Gilbert showed preference? He would have guessed the elder brother. At least she didn't appear to partake of them both, unlike the woman standing before him.

Stefan crept cautiously toward the entrance, where the spell's embrace had so recently held them prisoner. When he didn't encounter that resistance, he pushed forward and cleared the threshold.

Elijah had been watching her and waiting for it, so he was ready when Katerina broke for the entrance at speed. Faster than her, he barred her way with his body, backing her up without needing to lay hands on her. "As for you, however..." Elijah caught her eyes with his and compelled her. "You should not exit until I say so. When Klaus comes he'll want to know exactly where you are."

He released her gaze as quickly as he'd caught it and stepped back out into the antechamber. "You're free to go," he told Stefan. "Elena will explain the arrangement to you. If she keeps her word, I'll keep mine."

Elijah gave Katerina one last, hard stare, and left the tomb. As he walked away he could hear her pleading with the Salvatore brother not to leave her there, and smiled to himself when he heard Stefan tell her good-bye.

****************

Luka was still up when Elijah arrived at the Martins'. Father and son sat at the table, about halfway through a rather greasy looking pepperoni pizza. A bag of potato chips and either a soda or beer (age depending) rounded out the meal. He refused Jonas's offer of food but accepted the beer this time, seating himself. "Hello, Luka," he said, taking a sip of the micro-brew.

"Hey."

Ah, yes, the monosyllabic response of adolescents. "How are you doing at your new school?"

The boy shrugged. "Okay." He glanced at Jonas, who gave him a small shrug. Elijah set the beer down and leaned forward slightly. "I know that this has probably been quite a disruption to your life. I want to thank you for your help with regard to securing the moonstone, even if the method of its procurement sits ill with you."

Luka shrugged and reached for another slice of pizza. "I want my sister back. So, whatever we have to do, we have to do."

Elijah watched the grease ooze and pool on the paper plate; Luka dumped more chips out of the bag to go with the slice. "You are a physician, are you not?" he said to Jonas.

"I didn’t exactly have time to prepare a soup, salad, and entree course, what with the running around breaking containment spells and all," he said pointedly.

Elijah took another swallow of beer and addressed Luka again. "I know you feel badly for deceiving someone you would like to call a friend, but the moonstone is critical. And really, when all is said and done, we all desire the same outcome."

"Yeah, that’ll sell. Whatever." The boy rose and discarded his empty plate, polishing off his soda as he went to the kitchen. "I'm going to bed, Dad. 'Night."

The bedroom door closed, and moments later they heard some sort of rap or hip-hop music, Elijah could never keep straight which was which. He propped one foot up on Luka's abandoned chair. "I thought that went well."

Jonas chuckled. "Welcome to my world."

"So," Elijah said, finishing off the beer. "I spoke with Elena Gilbert today."

"I hope that conversation was more successful than this one." Jonas rose and went to the refrigerator, returning with two more beers.

"It was. We've reached an accord, she and I." Elijah accepted the second bottle and popped the top off. "She will live her life and stop seeking one of Klaus's men to end it, and I – meaning we – will protect her loved ones."

"But not her."

“About that…” Elijah scratched at the label on the bottle with his thumbnail. "Do you recall a discussion we had before we knew of the doppelganger's existence, regarding the possibility of using a witches' death ground to achieve the power necessary to overcome Klaus?"

"Yeah, I recall. But that was more a hypothetical or theoretical discussion. Why?"

"Between your research on bloodlines and a cursory glance at some of the more obscure records here in Mystic Falls, I think there may be such a site in or near this town." He discarded one strip of damp paper on the table in front of him and started on another section of the label. "If I'm reading between the lines correctly, I believe a substantial number of witches may have been burned there."

"Isn't Klaus supposed to be weakened after the sacrifice of the doppelganger?” Jonas pulled a piece of pepperoni from the remainder of the pizza. “We may not need to find the site.”

"Or, perhaps, we can lure Klaus in with promise of a doppelganger, only to use the grounds to pull enough power to finish him." He freed the last of the label from the bottle. "In which case, the sacrifice would be unnecessary."

The warlock took some time to consider. “I don’t like the idea of murdering a young girl. If we can pull this off without the sacrifice then great, I’m all for it. But.” Jonas sat forward, his elbows on the table. “My daughter is my first priority. If we can’t find the grounds, or if I don’t think we can do this without the sacrifice, then I will bleed her myself if that’s what it’s going to take to bring Greta home.”

“Understood. In the meantime, I think it might behoove us to provide a demonstration to Miss Gilbert of our intent and ability to protect her loved ones from harm.” Elijah drained the bottle and set it beside the first. “Are you up for a little werewolf wrangling?”

"Wait, what?" Jonas paused with his beer halfway to his mouth.

"The Lockwood boy. He's reportedly triggered the family curse. In fact, he should be turning tonight as we speak."

"And he… needs to be wrangled?”

"Not him, no. But I passed along some information regarding him – and the disappearance of his uncle – to a particular werewolf bitch who has proven useful in the past. She’s here to see the boy."

"I’m still not following.”

"Werewolves are nothing if not predictable. And predictably stupid. She’ll take the boy under her wing, then she’ll figure out readily enough that it was the local vampires who disposed of the uncle. She’ll whistle for the rest of the pack, they’ll converge on Mystic Falls, and they’ll try to take care of the vampire problem.”

“They’ll go after the Salvatores.” Jonas nodded, catching on.

“And we will of course rush to their defense, as per my agreement with Miss Gilbert.” Elijah propped his other foot on the chair and leaned back, arms behind his head, one eyebrow raised at Jonas.

The warlock lifted his beer in a gesture of salute, and drank. “Let’s wrangle some werewolves.”