Bloodlust

Chapter Sixteen

When I open the door, after painstakingly filling Tomasz's vials with my blood - a shade darker than the natural human color - the boys are leaning against the wall, chatting amiably. As I step out, their heads turn to face me.

Something peculiar passes over Niklaus' face, while Will's reaction is clearer: a dropped jaw is a hard thing to miss. "Damn, Ms. Telemun," he says, his eyes unabashedly roaming over my figure, "you're a knockout."

I grin at him. "You're a charmer, Amstraat. And you don't clean up too badly yourself." I eye his suit and before I know it, my hands fly to his tie, straightening the night-blue fabric. "Pierre was always amazing when helping strays from the street."

"Oh, I'm a stray now?" he says, smiling down on me. "What does that make you?"

I finish straightening his tie and pat his cheek fondly. "Your handler, William." I turn back to Niklaus, to say something to him, when I find him gone. "Where...where'd he go?" I say helplessly.

There's an unnatural stiffness in Will's voice as he says firmly, "He probably just wanted to get going. You know Nik, he's unbearably proper. Doesn't know the meaning of being fashionably late, poor boy."

Nodding unsurely, we walk towards the elevator. We pass down the floors in silence, until I start absentmindedly humming a folk-tune from my youth. Underneath my breath, I add the words,

"Нани, нани, брате, The cradle is swinging,

Сънчо пак те кани Kalina is singing.

Сънчо ще ти прати Na-ney, na-ney, brother

Дарове богати –" Sleep, my little brother.

"What song is that?" Will asks, just as the elevator door pings.

I wait for the doors to open and reply quietly, "Something I should've forgotten."

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The sleek and elegant black limousine that Niklaus ordered for us idles by the curb of the hotel, with the man himself leaning against it. His tie hangs untied around his neck as he peers at his feet, clearly irritated by the fact that we took longer than he did to get downstairs.

"Well, don't you look like a dream," I drawl as we approach.

He glances up at me and says dryly, "And you a vision." I send him a half-fake, half-genuine smile as I slip into the backseat behind Will. Niklaus finishes our trio, closing the door with a snap behind him. "Driver," I call out, "to the Palais de l'Élysée."

The car hums to life and we pass through the busy streets in silence for a few moments, before Niklaus says softly, "What is your plan, Nadya?"

"I don't have one."

Silence envelopes us once again before Nik hisses, "If you're serious, I will rip out your throat and throw you into the street."

"Please, keep talking dirty to me," I say, rolling my eyes. "Of course I have a plan, dumbass. Did you think I would walk into the presidential residence and...what? Figure it out as I went?"

Will shrugs. "To be fair, it seems in character."

I roll my eyes and rub the back of my neck. Nik says, "You have to tell us about the Cadieux witches, Nadya. We clearly don't know what you do."

"Of course you don't. The Council preaches that you're to destroy the Underworld, not learn from it." I shift in my seat. "The Cadieux witches are hardly mentioned in Council records. That is by choice.

"When the Council was formed, it was...what, the 1800s? I think. The years blur together, after such a long life. The Cadieuxs and I have a long history, stretching back further than the origination of the Council. I assume that the Council omitted their persecution of witches from your history lessons?"

I snort as a set of dark and blond eyebrows shoot up and the boys' eyes flick towards each other. "What?" Will asks. "That's...that can't be right. Alastair--"

"Is not who you think he is," I cut him off, grinding my teeth. "The Council - Alastair - ordered the destruction of witches during the 1800s. A rebirth of the Salem Witch Trials, except it was done through compulsion. If you look through death records of the 1830s to 1843, you'll see a suspicious number of witchling suicides.

"The Cadieuxs knew what the Council was doing. I happened to be in Paris, for...reasons. They asked me to erase them from history and I did. Even if I did refuse them, I couldn't. Like I said, we have a long history."

The car rumbles to a stop and by the flashing lights from cameras and the burgandy carpet rolled out, I can tell we've arrived at the Palais de l'Élysée. "I thought you said the Cadieuxs hated you," Will says suddenly and I glance at him as I nudge Nik's leg: a silent urge for him to get out of the car.

"Who's to say, ma cherie? History's a funny thing, and if you're the only one there to tell it...." I shrug. "History bends to the victor and I am always the victor."

Nik throws open the door and the shouts of paparazzi instantly greet us. Putting on my coyest smile, I step out. Throw my shoulders back. Loop my arms through Will's and Nik's. "Tonight, boys," I say just loudly enough for them to hear, "make sure you are the victors." 

I DID IT!!! I forced out a chapter. Sorry that this has taken so long, I've been in a rut with writing lately and other stuff has been going on as well. Hopefully, this somewhat makes up for it!