Little Witch

Chapter Five:

Klaus grabbed my wrist, stopping me from opening the car door. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get out of the car."

He growled. "That was not what I meant."

"In my past, there is so much that I regret not doing. So much suffering that I could have prevented. So, now I don't overthink things," I said and pulled his fingers from my wrist. "Don't think, Klaus."

The mansion was dark with a warm glow coming from the sitting room. Upon my entrance, I was greeted by a man. The stiff. "Elijah."

He smiled softly. "Tempest. Your sister is well versed."

"She's strong." After a thoughtful pause, I spoke again, "Hayley's in bed?"

"I've made up a room for you," He said, obviously ignoring my inquisition.

Klaus's shadow loomed over me. A look of confusion crossed his features and his eyes danced between Elijah and myself. I reached behind my back, clutching at Klaus's sweater and pulling him to my body. The bewilderment that graced Klaus's features moments ago now held a similar presence in Elijah's demeanor. Unlike Klaus who didn't understand the moment between his brother and I, Elijah smiled gently as if knowing. A smile that was reserved for older siblings when they knew all too well what was going on.

I offered Elijah another small smile and stroked a heavy hand down Klaus's sternum before climbing the stairs. The murmuring of the brother's voices was angry and strong but the way they spoke was like a tango. A dance that they had been doing for a thousand years, which I supposed they had.

When I was finally lulled into the quiet place between sleep and consciousness, a hand stroked my hair. My eyelids flickered on their own accord. For a moment, I opened my eyes, watching Klaus's blurred form towering over me.

When I awoke the house was humming, a quiet sort of noise, with the movement of each of its occupants. Each occupied room's door was ajar signaling the everyone was up. The thudding of my socked feet against the hardwood echoed in the halls of the old house.

In the middle of the living room where Klaus sat was a dead girl, bleeding from her neck in a heavy flow that spilled across the expensive carpet. I raised an eyebrow, looking at Klaus with a disapproving frown, however, he did not look up from his book. Rebekah was on her knees scrubbing chemicals into the carpet.

"What is this?"

"A peace offering from my little brother," Elijah said. "Tempest, I have some reading material, specifically our mother's grimoires, would you be interested?"

I nodded. "Thank you. At least something beneficial came out of her existence." I paused, realizing my mistake. "Well, not including you all of course."

Rebekah snorted and rolled her eyes, "Of course," before her attention turned to her brother. "Poetry about poisoned apples from dead trees. Looks like someone's worried about impending daddyhood."

Clearly amused, Klaus shook his head. "Nonsense. Elijah's back. In his presence, all problems turn to pixie-dust and float away!"

Rebekah side-eyed him before they both broke out into spitting grins. Elijah and I rolled our eyes. "That is what older siblings are for," I hummed with only a small amount of bitterness in my voice. Rebekah glared at me. As if birth order really factored into protecting your siblings, everyone in this room knew that.

"Strange, I don't recall any pixie-dust from the darkness of the coffin I was recently forced to endure."

"What are you doing with Mother's spellbook anyway?"