The Originals: The Loss Read online

  He had been told she would rise with the moon, and that Vivianne would find him. So Klaus waited at the edge of the bayou, trusting that Lily hadn’t betrayed him a second time.

  He was torn between the two impossibilities, trapped where he stood by the warring forces within his own heart. He hoped that Vivianne would come and suspected that Lily had lied. They balanced against each other, needing only one tiny nudge to consume him.

  There was a flash of white, just barely visible through the tangled and matted undergrowth. It might have been the lifted tail of a deer or the moonlight glancing off a pool of stagnant water, or it might have been the love of his life. Perhaps it was her ghost, come to punish him for failing to save her.

  But it moved like her....That little scrap of brightness across the swamp could mean something true and profound. It could be an arm; it could be a hem. And then, unbelievably, the indistinct flash of white stepped out into the open, and it was Vivianne Lescheres.

  She wore a loose white gown that shifted and twisted around her as she walked. It stirred the mist that rose off the water, which swirled in her wake. It seemed to Klaus that she wore the night itself, the stars and moon moving with her as she made her way toward him. Finally, finally toward him.

  He almost couldn’t understand that it was really her. There had been too many disappointments, too many dead ends and dashed hopes. Klaus had never given up and he never would have, but at the same time it was hard to keep his faith alive.

  And yet there was Vivianne, walking toward him through the mist. The full moon shone on her raven hair and her bare arms. Could she feel the night air pressing against her skin? Was she now warm for the first time in years? She was graceful and lithe in her bare feet. Had her people entombed her that way? Or had she simply slipped off her shoes along the way, eager to feel the solid earth beneath her feet again?

  She came closer, her black eyes never leaving his face, an unreadable smile on her warm, solid red lips. He could see a hint of her sardonic humor in the face that tilted up toward his. He could feel the heat radiating from her fair skin, and over the hum of the bayou he could hear her heart beating, clear and steady. Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes...He could see her living soul flaring through those marvelous eyes.

  “My love,” he gasped, and he couldn’t wait any longer. With one step he closed the space between them and took her into his arms. She melted against his body, molding every curve of hers into its proper place. It was as if they had never been apart.

  “You found me,” she whispered, and her voice sounded hoarse from disuse. “I was so lost for so long.”

  “I found you,” Klaus agreed, brushing her dark hair back from her forehead to kiss it. “I brought you back.” It was as if the moon were growing brighter, as if the whole world were glowing with the joy that caught hold of him. After forty-four years, he could finally feel this again: this almost painfully exquisite thrill of contact with the woman he loved.

  She rested her head on his collarbone, exactly where it belonged. Her hair smelled very faintly of lilacs. He remembered every second they had ever spent together in vivid detail: the initial, testing conversations; the secret meetings; the passionate letters; that first, amazing night in the hotel that had blown down in the hurricane just a few short weeks later. He remembered her smile, her skin, her laugh, and the pale half-moons at the base of each of her fingernails. Holding her in his arms again, he could recall every single thing about her at once.

  Then she lifted her head and kissed him, and every other thought fled from his mind. He wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her close and tangled his other hand in her loose black hair, wanting to freeze time so that their kiss would never end. He wanted this forever.

  “Marry me, Viv,” he demanded when she finally broke away, their breath coming fast and ragged. He threw himself to one knee, feeling dampness from the bayou soak through his breeches. “Say that you will. I can’t live without you, and I won’t do it again.”

  She smiled. He searched her face for any sign of her former state, but there was no trace of death on her. He had assumed that she would be fragile, even traumatized when he managed to bring her back to life. It was a gift beyond price to have her back at all, but that she was so unflawed, so present, so whole, was more than he could have asked for.

  “Don’t you even want to know what I’ve been up to?” she asked teasingly, and his head spun with the strangeness of it all. “You don’t look a day older, my love, but I know I spent longer than that on the Other Side.”

  Klaus hesitated, flustered by her frank manner. She seemed so at ease with the subject of death that she might as well be discussing the latest fashions at a dinner party. He had expected her to be haunted or at least shaken. But Vivianne was so natural that he could almost forget she had ever been gone. “Do you remember it?” he asked curiously. “You can tell me, or not—whatever you wish.”

  She smiled again, and this time it reached her eyes. “I’ll tell you that I will marry you, Niklaus,” she told him reprovingly. She took his hands and lifted him back to his feet, one quirked eyebrow indicating that she thought the question had been unnecessary to begin with. “Of course I will. I’ve spent my afterlife thinking of you and wishing that I could be with you again, and now you have made that impossible wish come true. We will marry when and where you like—now, even.”

  He gathered her against his chest again, feeling the miracle of her heartbeat. She had been gone so long, and she had missed so much. Vivianne had died at nineteen years old. She had been full of dreams and plans, and then she had simply ended. He had vowed to himself that when he brought her back, she would have everything she had lost, everything she had not yet had a chance to experience. Vivianne would have a wedding fit for a queen. She would never have another regret, or another squandered moment.

  “I will give you the wedding of your dreams,” he promised, running his fingertips along her spine. She shivered and snuggled closer into his chest. A wolf howled in the distance, and Klaus started, holding Vivianne away from him at arm’s length to study her. “You are here in your own form,” he marveled, “even though it is a full moon.”

  Vivianne looked down at her own body as if she were surprised to see it. “The Other Side cleansed me of that terrible mistake that I made.” She smiled. “I am as I was born, not as I became during my first life. We truly have a fresh start, thanks to you.”

  And thanks to Lily, but he pushed the thought from his mind.

  The only two things that had ever come between him and the love of his endless life—Vivianne’s changing ceremony and her death—had been erased. Whatever else came their way they could face together. Now that she was back they had all the time in the world, together as husband and wife. He bent down to kiss her lips once more, whispering, “Vivianne...Vivianne Mikaelson, my wife.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  REBEKAH HAD JUST finished a light meal of chambermaid when Klaus wandered in. The protection spell had warned her that he was not alone, but she felt like she was in a dream when she saw who trailed into the house behind him.

  “Elijah,” Rebekah whispered, staring at the girl who looked exactly like Vivianne Lescheres. When she repeated it, it came out as a scream. “Elijah!”

  He was with them in a heartbeat, and Rebekah noticed that he looked as if he had been thrashed by a vampire twice his size. Deep scratches crisscrossed his face, and a bruise on his cheek wasn’t healing quite fast enough to hide its vicious purple-green color. Rebekah wanted to ask him about it, but the problem on Klaus’s arm was far more pressing. “What is the meaning of this?” Elijah demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “Klaus, what have you done?”

  Vivianne hung back, her eyes flicking back and forth between the three vampires. Rebekah wondered if dying once had made death seem more or less frightening for her.

  �
��Can’t you see what he’s done?” Rebekah asked, waving a hand toward Klaus. “Is it really so hard to believe that Niklaus would endanger us by playing with magic and generally being a reckless fool? The proof is standing right here.” Her brother’s expression was so smug that she fought the urge to slap him.

  “Rebekah,” Vivianne said suddenly, her eyes locking on her future sister-in-law. Rebekah felt a chill, as if death itself had snuck up to breathe down the back of her neck. “I’m sorry this is such a shock. I’m so thankful to be back, but I didn’t realize that Klaus had acted on his own. I wish you were happier to see me again.”

  Elijah’s face reddened, and he looked as if he might spring on Klaus at any moment. “Have you lost your mind?” he demanded. “Niklaus, explain yourself.”

  “Congratulate me, dear siblings,” Klaus suggested with every scrap of arrogant boldness he possessed. “Mademoiselle Lescheres and I are engaged.”

  The colossal upheaval in Rebekah’s mind drowned out even Elijah’s scathing reply. Not only had Klaus resurrected a dead woman, he had proposed to her. It was insane and yet typical. Rebekah studied Vivianne closely, ignoring the rising shouts of her two brothers. The girl looked well enough, not weak or scarred by her time in the grave. Maybe it was only the surprise of seeing her that unsettled Rebekah. Maybe Klaus’s lunatic plan had somehow, impossibly, worked. Of course the lucky bastard had gotten the love of his life back.

  Not that magic ever gave anything away for free. Surely, Klaus had paid a hefty price for his prize. But he owed his sister as well. For everything he had put her through, for the disrespect, the self-indulgence, and for dismissing her loss while obsessing over his own.

  As shocked as she was that he had raised his bride from the dead, Rebekah realized that Klaus had just presented her with an opportunity to collect on his debt to her. “Congratulations,” she blurted, and an expectant silence fell over the hall as all eyes turned toward her. “Sister,” she added for good measure, striding toward Vivianne to embrace her warmly. Vivianne felt solid and real, although Rebekah’s skin still crawled slightly at their contact. She didn’t show it, though. She had far more to gain by appearing to accept this perversion of natural laws.

  Elijah hesitated, and then decided to follow Rebekah’s lead. “Engaged,” he echoed, as if he had not quite heard Klaus say the word before. “I cannot say I approve of your methods, brother, but you certainly couldn’t have chosen a worthier bride.” He bowed his head politely toward Vivianne, and she gave Elijah a forgiving smile.

  The scratches on Elijah’s face were fading, but Rebekah detected some stiffness when he moved. It was just one more mark against Klaus: His problems always had to eclipse everyone else’s. He didn’t even seem to notice his brother was hurt.

  “I truly am sorry to surprise you both,” Vivianne offered, and Rebekah hushed her gently.

  “It’s hardly your fault,” she pointed out. “Please forgive us for our hasty reactions. When do you two plan to wed? Or have you had time to discuss that yet?”

  Elijah glared at her, but Rebekah ignored him. Elijah had forced diplomacy and caution on his siblings so often that he had no grounds to complain about whatever his sister had learned from him.

  “Soon,” Klaus replied, his voice intense and earnest. The tightened muscles in his jaw betrayed his impatience. Rebekah could use that eagerness to her own advantage. Klaus could be so single-minded when something he wanted was within his reach. As focused as he was on marrying his dead bride, he would never see Rebekah’s little act of revenge coming. Even now, he didn’t seem to realize that there was anything suspicious about her sudden interest in his nuptials. “As soon as possible, but we would like something...festive.”

  He met her eyes then, and Rebekah realized that in his own grudging way, Klaus was asking for help. Her help. Of course, he could never possibly plan a wedding without her. It was almost too easy. “We will throw the most dazzling wedding this city has ever seen,” she assured him. “I know how long you have waited for this moment, and we’ll make sure it doesn’t disappoint.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help,” Elijah disagreed, his tone bordering on ungracious. Klaus’s lips tightened, and Rebekah stifled a smirk. Even Elijah was unwittingly helping her cause, making her Klaus’s only real ally, the sibling he could rely on. “I encountered something in the bayou tonight that I have never heard of before, and I will need to devote my time to—” He broke off suddenly and stared at Vivianne as if he were seeing her for the first time. “Did any other witches return with you?” he asked urgently. “Were there more on the Other Side who came back?”

  Vivianne frowned. “I woke up alone in my coffin,” she said. “I saw the witches who performed the spell, and they only seemed concerned with raising me. Have you seen others who were—who should be...?” She bit her cherry-red bottom lip.

  “They weren’t like you,” Elijah admitted. “They were single-minded and barely able to speak, but they called themselves witches. All of them were unnaturally strong. I crushed the skull of one, and she kept right on fighting as if she didn’t even notice it. They ate the heart of...of a vampire I knew.”

  Klaus looked as stunned as Rebekah. He finally took in Elijah’s wounds and scratches, speechless.

  But Rebekah was more interested in Vivianne’s reaction. The young woman’s expression was strange, tense and hungry like a feral animal that had gone for days without eating. What exactly had she seen on the Other Side?

  “I have never heard of a witch like that,” Vivianne apologized, and whatever look Rebekah had seen was gone. Vivianne’s face looked just as it always had, and she sounded entirely sincere. Rebekah shivered a little, trying to shake off the fleeting impression that there had been something else where Vivianne now stood. “The witches who brought me back were just like the ones I have always known.” She frowned, her black eyebrows drawing together in concentration. “One said we were kin. But then she told me that I had no more business with our kind, and that I should go to Klaus and not return. I don’t think I have any real family left to ask about creatures like the ones you describe.”

  Klaus wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. “I will be all the family you need,” he promised, and Vivianne laid her head against his shoulder.

  They were well matched, even Rebekah had to admit. “Learn what you can about this new threat, Elijah,” she urged her brother. “I will take care of everything else, and we will hope that this new evil can be stopped. These two deserve a wedding that will be remembered for centuries, and I’ll make sure they get it.”

  * * *

  “ROBERT!” REBEKAH SHOUTED, growing more impatient by the second. He appeared in an instant, hat in hand, and she realized it was Rodger she’d meant. “No, not you, Robert. Go fetch Rodger.” She was going to have to pin tags on their clothing or something, but at least neither of her admirers seemed to mind being called by the wrong name. “And is our coach ready yet?” she called after him.

  “Yes, miss. The horses are waiting in the courtyard,” he turned to say as he went off to find his counterpart.

  If there were any more delays, Klaus might find a reason to convince Vivianne not to go into town at all. He had been absurdly protective over her since her return, and it had been almost impossible for Rebekah to get even a few minutes alone with her. It was understandable that he would worry, especially with Elijah’s mysterious un-witches roaming around, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

  Rebekah was putting together an extraordinary event in record time, and now and then she needed to consult with the bride. Even more important, she needed to lull Klaus into trusting her, into believing that she thought of Vivianne as the sister she had never had. If he saw Rebekah as an ally, he would never suspect that she was behind the little prank that would be the highlight of his wedding.

  It was only go
ing to be a minor inconvenience, not dangerous at all. Just embarrassing and easy to blame on some rogue werewolf.

  All she needed was to get going. Vivianne needed a wedding gown, and Rebekah needed a vial of werewolf venom. Neither of Vivianne’s two families had shown any interest in embracing her upon her return, and so her wedding guests would be exclusively vampires. A little poison in the food would create the right amount of chaos...and Klaus would have to dole out his own blood to heal the vampires stricken by the venom. Only a hybrid’s blood could stop the wolf poison from killing a vampire—but it’s not like the prank would even go that far.

  Between sampling hors d’oeuvres and comparing place settings, Rebekah had even been turning new vampires, just so that there would be more of them to cure. The more blood Klaus had to shed, the happier she would be. She reached for Eric’s silver chain in the pocket of her skirt, wrapping it around her fingers. She’d begun to carry the broken silver chain everywhere, letting it be a physical reminder of the grudge she nursed.

  “Viv, dear!” she called through the foyer as the coach pulled up to the door. “The coach is here!” Vivianne finally drifted down the broad, curving staircase.

  “It will be nice to see the city again,” the girl remarked, although Rebekah knew Vivianne would never think to blame Klaus for keeping her so isolated. She’d been infatuated with him even before he had rescued her from the Other Side, and now they were virtually inseparable. Rebekah had always thought of Vivianne as an intelligent and perceptive young woman, but she had rather unfortunate taste in men. The werewolf fiancé had been dull, but he would never have put her through a fraction of the heartbreak Klaus had caused.

  Then again, Rebekah had followed her own heart to disaster a time or fifty, so she wasn’t one to judge.

  Rebekah gave Rodger the barest of nods as he helped her into the open-topped coach, and he looked as if he had just been pardoned from certain death. She enjoyed his flattering attention too much to kill him over something so minor, but there was no upside to letting him know that. “Madame Pavin’s shop,” she ordered, “and we’re in a bit of a hurry.”