ON HOLD
"Everyone in New Orleans can't help but get involved with the Mikealsons...and once they get involved they can say goodbye to everything they loved."
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After receiving information that serial killer in New Orleans may be...
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It felt like I was dreaming.
It had to be it, didn't it? After Vincent caught me up with everything related to Cami I didn't know what to do first; kill her or that original vampire Klaus.
"We are all just pawns in their battle of gaining the power," Vincent said, his dark brown eyes focused on the drink in his hand, "And worst of all, it's always the innocent that pay the price."
"Cami, I'm back," I called out, looking at the empty apartment. I heard the shower going, and figured she must be in the bathroom. Putting my bag on the floor, I slumped back onto the couch, rethinking what I would say to her when she got out.
She was my little sister but she was also 25. She could make choices for herself but, again, sometimes the choices people make inevitably hurt oneself and others around them.
From the corner of my eyes I noticed a small painting. It wasn't there before. The painting was of Cami standing, alone, by the street of Rousseau's. It was beautiful. Every mark, every shadow, every line was done with such precision that could take decades to master.
I noticed on the right, bottom corner 2 cursive letters.
The initials were K.M.
The only person who crossed my mind was Klaus Mikealson. I couldn't shake off the paranoia rising in me. I was scared of how close Cami and Klaus were. Vincent said they were fond of each other but to what lengths?
"Oh, hey, Liv," Cami greeted, wrapping the towel around her wet hair. She noticed me staring at the painting and casually took it away from me. She placed it back on the coffee table. "How has your day been?"
I ignored her and said, "I know you know about vampires and witches and werewolves."
My statement was blunt, straightforward, maybe somewhat annoyed. She froze, looking at me with indescribable feelings. She sat down on the sofa, and gave out a big sigh, "You know...How do you know?"
"I found out years ago when I overheard our uncle talking to some woman," I began. I figured it was for the best to be semi - honest with her about this, knowing she would return the full favor when I ask how she knew. "The woman ended up being a witch, and kept talking about keeping the balance just like they did for decades.
"All of it seemed so suspicious," I continued, going back to that day in the church, my 17 year old self peeking over the stone wall. "And you know how I am, the moment something seems out of place, I try to fix it and solve it."
"And you learned everything about each one all by yourself?" She asked, thinking about all the evil in this world I researched alone.
"Wasn't really hard," I shrugged, motioning to the phones sitting near us. "Those came in handy."
"How could you not tell me?" She couldn't help but ask. If I was her I would be angry, pissed off even. She only seemed sad. "Didn't you think if I knew it would be for the better? I would be safer?"
