The Gate

Chapter Ten: Cover Blown

   I feed the fireplace and adjust the burning wood a bit with a metal poker. Klaus has taken the liberty of pouring himself a blood and alcohol cocktail before taking his seat on the couch, looking awfully comfortable for such a hated man. I stand, dusting my hands off as I make my way to where the Salvatores keep the good Scotch. Damon is currently laying Elena down upstairs. I suppose he just plans to fill her in later.

   "I must say, Miss. Brekker, I am quite the fan." Klaus comments. I continue to poor myself a drink, a little taller than necessary. "You've got the whole eastern country talking, from what I hear you're something else." I walk stiffly to the living room, glass in hand, and settle myself into the crooked armchair adjacent to the couch. I slump back, glancing quickly in his direction then back at my drink as I put my feet up on the coffee table. "Fancy telling me what that something is?" So I guess my original plan of posing as Bonnie's long lost cousin is out the window, I suppose I should've expected a guy like him to have gotten that 'back off' message I sent in the beginning. I refuse eye contact and sip slowly at my Scotch, clutching onto the glass cup with both hands like a child.

   "Not really, no." He chuckles and leans forward to place his drink on the coffee table.

   "You know,"

   "No, I don't," I murmur.

   "I like you, Brekker. Your attitude, your reputation, etc... And it's because I like you that I'll give you a little grace." I lift my gaze and narrow my eyes at him. He's got quite the entitled play-boy smirk going on.

   "You're a real tool, you know that, right?" His face drops into an instant glare, and leans closer to me, his voice suddenly dark.

   "I'd show a little respect if I were you."

   "Why? I know what you are, I know what you can do, I'll show whatever respect I see fit." I lean forward and set my glass down next to his. I take my feet off the table, resting my elbows on my knees. "You, however, have no idea what I am or what I can do. And yet here you sit, patronizing me as if you see me as anything but a threat." I scoff. "As if you haven't been wondering whether or not I could be killed or compelled since the very first time you heard of me." I grab my drink from the table and stand to leave rather hastily. I bump into Damon on my way out of the living room. His face looks troubled, hard. In a hushed tone I ask, "Is she awake yet?"

   "No, she'll probably be another half hour." I sigh and he gives me a once over. "You okay?" I nod.

   "Yeah, today's just... proving to be a bit difficult." Between waking up next to Lucien and dealing with Damon and Elena, I'm about ready to throw myself in front of a train. Not to mention my only chance of getting home probably hates me now. Oh well, I'll fix that later. I try to start walking away again but Damon stops me, grabbing my arm and turning me back around. "What?" I snap. His face softens a slight bit.

   "Listen, I know you hate us right now, but—"

   "But what, Damon?" I interrupt. "What magic excuse do you have to make everything okay?" His eyes dart towards Klaus who is surely listening in and then back to me. He lets go of my arm.

   "It was wrong of us to lie. That's all." He says keeping his voice quiet. That's all, huh?

   "Is that your failed attempt at an apology?" His lips twitch upward into his famous 'I'm-hoping-this-gets-me-out-of-trouble' smirk.

   "Depends, is it working?"

   "Not a chance." He sighs and rolls his eyes before continuing into the living room.

   "Worth a shot," he calls behind him. Klaus tilts his head, obviously confused. I shake my head and continue down the hallway, wondering to myself which room is the most sound-proof.