Sweetest Revenge

I want to clear things up by saying that I never wanted this life. Most times people think they become who they are because there's always a part of them—their darkest part, that made them that way.
I never had a dark spot in me. I was innocent, I was loved and I had a shining future ahead.
But then Fate must have PMS’d all over my life and, well, I was stuck in a world I didn’t belong in and thirsty for revenge. I watched everyone I love die—figuratively and literally. But I had made a few pacts over their memories. If you’ve ever lost anyone, you would understand the need for closure, revenge. I knew I couldn’t die without my vengeance, and those pacts had sealed my future, a future dedicated to my family.

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4. Chapter Four

 

At the beginning of a book, you settle down in your seat to focus. You want to concentrate, so you'll be able to make sense of what will happen during your fictitious escape.

The smart readers will pay extra attention, because they know it is always at the beginning where everything is hinted at. The shallow will read with little opinion and allow themselves to take everything at face value.

But all readers will know that the end of the story, everything will be tied neatly in ribbons and bows, that everything will make sense.

That might be why the world depends so much on these escapes, or books; because in reality, rarely anything is tied so neatly. If you're lucky in life, you won't have to deal with too much loss. You will learn every day and mistakes will teach you without drastic consequences. You change for the better and not for the worse.

But like I said, that will only happen if you're lucky.

My 'fictitious escapes' were not books. They were my dreams.

If you've ever read a good book, you understand that the story in itself will only be as good as its author. Most deep parts of the story that are passionate have been experienced or understood by its author. A small part of the story always rings true. If you're a writer, even better.

Quite confusing to understand, but my dreams are my 'fictitious escapes' and I am the author of them. There will always be a part of my dreams that rings true. Everything I've experienced and understood in life comes back to haunt me in my dreams.

"Goody bags for the kids,"

I showed no reaction when Klaus walked into my apartment and threw bags of blood to each of my brothers in turn. They each scooted back just a little further into the shadows, but their gratitude flashed in their eyes in the split second of eye contact they made with Klaus.

They were still afraid of him.

Klaus looked at me last. He was wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans, something I couldn't help but notice. It was kind of... strange. Too casual for a wolf-y vampire.

"You know I never asked for them," I stood from the desk and turned the lights on. We had been sitting in the dark since I woke and it was making me sleepy, not in a good way.

Klaus nodded impatiently.

"Well, the kids have to eat at some point, love. Better for me to feed them than you."

He turned and walked around my apartment. It was the first time he was actually inside it; usually I never let him past the foyer.

I glared at his back. He trailed a hand over the flat screen, stared at the cartoon my brothers were watching on mute for a moment before turning back to me.

"You have to sleep at some point, too." He rose his brow as he said it but I saw the way his gaze lingered on my eyes and almost slumped posture. Frowning, I straightened and turned away from him to the kitchen.

My apartment was large and wide, open spaced and heavily protected against the sun despite its many windows. They were all shuttered heavily with metal, save for a few in my bedroom and bathroom, which also conveniently led to the large balcony and an emergency exit...

I guess I still didn't trust the last of my family.

"What say you have a rest and I'll watch over them?"

I had just started making myself coffee while watching my brothers from the corner of my eyes. Klaus braced his arms over my kitchen counter.

I turned to face him coolly. Would he watch over them, or me?

"You don't have to try to get on my good side." I would never tell him I was avoiding sleep not for the physical weakness but for the mental. "I told you I'd call in that favour when I needed it."

I placed my hands on the side of my mug as I stared back at him. I saw the impatience in his eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what the favour is or make me wait to death?"

I believe that the lengths people go to for their own purposes—be it revenge or an achievement—should not affect other's judgement over their character. I know what wanting and needing something does to people. I haven't judged Klaus over what he does to other people, but rather only what he does to me. Call me self centred, but I have my own purpose.

Maybe one day I'll revisit my beliefs.

I wanted to say, "Well, Klaus, if I knew that's what would lead you to your demise, then of course."

Instead, I gave him a whisper of a smile and the impatience in his eyes abated.

"I saw the Salvatore's yesterday." I changed the subject. "I must say I'm surprised. The last I saw of Stefan, he had a limp girl on him and he was still trying to drain her."

Klaus was watching me carefully, waiting for me to elaborate.

I held the mug to my lips and sipped my coffee, before drinking half in one go. Coffee was addictive.

"And?" The impatience was back and he glared at my mug as if it had stolen my attention. Men.

"Was there something you wanted, Klaus?"

He wanted to know what I thought of Stefan. If I would team up with him and go against Klaus. He stared at me before gesturing to the duffel bag he left in the doorway.

"Your old things," He explained.

"Leaving town?"

He turned back around, waiting to see my reaction to the news. Maybe Carlo could see right through me, but Klaus couldn't.

"Actually, my sister was about to burn them. I figured you wouldn't appreciate that."

I wanted to laugh.

"They're clothes, they're disposable." I shrugged and waited for him to leave. Subtly, I eyed the door. He had closed it after him. I had a feeling he got the hint but wasn't taking it into account.

"I mean it, you know." He said seriously. "You could get some sleep and I'll watch them."

There was the question again. Watch them or me? Were his eyes too wide? Was he trying to look innocent and sincere?

I finished the rest of my coffee, a way of declining. I saw the anger in his eyes. He didn't offer things often and didn't like to be rejected.

The slam of the bin top caused his eyes to snap toward Alex, who was throwing the blood bag away. He gave a little shiver and in the next second he was sitting stiffly on the couch. I noticed a drop of blood on the white leather.

"Clean it up, please, Alex."

"Do you let Carlo—"

"If you're so interested in talking about Carlo, maybe you should meet with him."

"No." His voice was low, bordering on a growl. I tilted my head.

"Alright." I glanced at my brothers. Alex had just sat down again, the boys were watching us. Their gazes snapped back to the TV at my stare. When Klaus leaves, they would be upset with me. Angry, maybe. Any predictability I used to know with them changed when they turned.

"Did you see Elena yesterday?" He was looking for reasons to stay. He wanted something from me. I kept suspicion off my face and nodded.

"It was hard not to."

"I heard about the attack. Tyler was shot with a stake."

Tyler must have been the hybrid. I had thought the shot sounded strangely abnormal, but I had chalked it up to wooden bullets.

"Flawless aim." I couldn't help but admit. "He was shot straight through the heart. I must say that's impressive." He was narrowing his eyes again.

He dropped it anyway and leaned on his side over the counter, staring at my brothers. They went still, staring at the TV, trying to look unfazed.

"How do you want to do this?" Klaus stood straight and angled his wrist toward me over the counter. "In here? The bedroom?" His gaze darted toward my closed door down the hall. I shot his look down with a glare.

"No thank you, Klaus. I'll be fine for a few days."

"This has nothing to do with your favour. What are you afraid of? It's not like I drink vervain, although it does seem to be a growing trend among vampires."

I ignored that last part, because I had no idea what he was talking about and I didn't want him to know he knew something I didn't. Pride is a tricky thing.

"Actually..." If Klaus knew the full effect of what his blood did to me, he wouldn't consider it. Last time I drank, I thought I'd pass out from his...baggage. I was a little afraid of what I'd find.

Without warning—or maybe I was too blind to see it—he bit into his wrist roughly, eyes flashing amber, and held it toward me.

"Come on, hurry up. Before it heals."

I grimaced as I pulled his hand toward me and drank. He kept his gaze on me as I choked down mouthfuls, and when I finished, I felt admiration, a little regret, and surprise. None of the emotions were mine.

And now I felt... interest. Something fond, maybe.

I exhaled and looked around for the dish towel. He had it in his hands, wiping away a little blood. I took it from him to wipe my mouth.

"You should go." Disappointment. "But, uh... thank you."Something fond again, pride. I groaned inwardly, stomach churning. "Um." Confusion. What was I supposed to do? Fluff him up so he'd do it next time too? "You didn't have to..."

Damn, when did I get so awkward?

The feeling was not mutual. Klaus was happy, prideful, looking at me with a cool gaze but he was feeling fond of me. He turned to leave and seemed to even think fondly of my brothers as he looked at them. Again, the feeling wasn't mutual. My brothers shifted their gazes as he walked out the door without another glance back, or a good bye.

If I hadn't drank his blood, I would have said he was impatient, slightly annoyed, glad to be leaving. But I did drink his blood, and he wanted to stay and talk, he was feeling fond of my brothers and I, he was proud of himself for getting back on my 'good' side.

I was not one to ignore new information. Two months ago, I had drunk Klaus's blood and all he felt was a little disgust and wonder. What the hell changed? I was barely seeing him. Was it the whole, absence makes the heart grow fonder?

I looked back toward my brothers.

My family had all looked alike. My mother had long blond hair and my father brown, although my father was olive skinned and my mother was fair. My two older brothers both had dark hair and olive skin, but Ryan had green eyes where Grant had blue. Jared and Alex could have passed for twins if they were the same age. They both had blond hair and blue eyes, tanned skin, although they were paler from the lack of sunlight. Micah looked like me; blue eyes and brown hair, tanned skin. Although his eyes were—

"Here we go,"

A pistol flew through the air and I caught it before it broke my glass cupboards. I looked up to see Klaus again, now in a leather jacket with a hoodie. Again, it was too casual.

Pride again, like he was the one responsible for my sharp reflexes. In a twisted way, he was.

I looked down at the pistol in my hand. A K100, 9mm semi automatic pistol. Loaded.

"I have my own," I said to him with a frown.

"We're going after the hunter. I figured you'd want to come and see what it's about."

"I do want to see..." I looked back at my brothers. They were on edge now, waiting for me to leave, they would be on lockdown in the dark house, reeling away from the sunlight. "Let me change."

I turned to go down the hall into my room. I didn't bother with stealth, only changed out of my pyjamas and threw on jeans and a tee. I threw on a leather jacket and slid the gun in the back of my jeans, tied up my shoes, and shoved my phone in my pocket.

Carlo had wanted me as far away from the Hunter as possible... but the Hunter could know something.

"I'll be right back, alright guys?" I called before shutting the door behind Klaus and me.

"Be careful, sis!" Jared called after me. I frowned when the door was closed, wondering where the affection came from.

True, it was hardly affectionate, but it was the most kind of emotion I'd gotten from him in two years that wasn't violence, anger, rage...

Klaus had driven his Cadillac Escalade here, a car he had bought on my advice, but only after I completely went off my head explaining it. Truthfully, I wanted him to buy the car for me to see if it was worth buying for myself.

"You updated it," I ran a hand over the side door, noticing the changes instantly.

"I only had it repainted." It was black in colour with matte details. I nodded in appreciation and I felt his satisfaction at my acceptance.

"We're going to hunt a Hunter," I said to him. "This isn't exactly covert."

"Covert isn't my style," Klaus said like it was obvious, and truthfully, it was. I still climbed in the passenger seat while he drove.

The man was tall, well built, bold, African American most likely. All business. Really I was surprised he didn't notice us. He was not quite human... he was, but just a little... off.

"What do you think?" Klaus whispered, although we didn't need to. If anything, we'd just look stranger.

I shrugged.

"Strange." I said out loud. "What's stranger still is that you haven't told me a thing about this plan,"

Abruptly, he walked away, confidence oozing from him and sureness that I would follow. I rolled my eyes and followed.

The Hunter was half crouched to the floor with arrows sticking in his arm and side, preventing him from reaching to pull out the arrows. I smelt the explosives in the cases bound to storage shelves and looked toward Klaus's back. Was he that sharp with his senses?

"Hello, mate." Klaus said in a friendly way that actually seemed sincere.

Damon Salvatore was leaning against a storage shelf. Were they literally working together?

"What do you think?" Klaus asked me again. The Hunter's gaze snapped toward me and he stopped struggling for a moment to stare, slightly slack jawed. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head at him, confused by his reaction.

Damon whirled to face me and suspicion clouded his features.

"So you're working with Klaus." He somehow managed convey a million shades of judgement in his tone.

Klaus was satisfied, I was not.

"I'm not working with him." I didn't want to get caught up in Klaus's issues.

She met him? Klaus was wondering in his mind. His voice pierced my skull but I kept the wince off my face. He'd gotten much stronger, or I drank too much of his blood. It was the sharp thought he'd had since I drank from him.

"Well, you smell like Hybrid." Damon narrowed his eyes in accusation.

"Maybe we should get back on task, boys." I crossed my arms and looked fixatedly at the Hunter.

He was struggling to pull the arrows out.

"Keep it up, buddy. We'll be scraping you off the ceiling." Damon's tone was almost playful. I glanced at him sharply, then at Klaus. Weren't they more serious about this?

"You're gonna kill me anyway." The Hunter said.

"Well, let's not be too hasty." Klaus said offhandedly. "I feel like we're just getting to know each other."

Klaus turned to look at me with his brows raised. I shrugged at him from the doorway. I didn't quite know what the Hunter was. He seemed different...

"Let's start with the basics." Damon slid his fingers around a piece of paper and walked to stand beside Klaus. "Where're you from, what do you know? Maybe you can cue me in on this 'greater evil' because I've fought this guy," he gestured to Klaus, "and there's nothing more evil than that."

Again with the playfulness.

"Truth be told, I'm as evil it gets."

Klaus gestured for me to read the letter. I shook my head. I didn't care for their problems. The Hunter was only a threat to my brothers and I, and by the end of this little visit, he'd be eliminated.

"I'm not telling you anything," The Hunter said adamantly. "You think if you kill me it's gonna be over? There's another waiting to take my place."

"See, this is what I like to hear," Damon assured Klaus. "Vague threats, ominous prophecies, disappearing tattoos..."

I felt the tension in the air a moment before the violence. Klaus's smile dropped, the Hunter turned to glare at Damon suspiciously.

I took another step forward, then another, until I was in front of him. There was a tattoo—on his arm. It was hard to believe it could disappear; it went all the way to his elbow from his wrist. It was too dark in the room for me to make out its details.

"What do you mean, tattoos?" Klaus was asking.

"Don't bother; you can't see the damn thing."

"It's a... vine? What is it?" There was a symbol on his hand and what looked like a vine or a snake trailing around it, past his elbow, even. I looked into the Hunter's face. He was frowning again, giving me that strange look from when I first entered.

"You can see it?" All three men asked at the same time.

I stood and backed away. I shouldn't have said it out loud, but curiosity got the better of me.

Curiosity killed the cat.

The three men didn't further question, thankfully, although in their own twisted ways, they sent me silent messages. Klaus gave me a look that said, we'll talk of this later, and Damon narrowed his eyes once again suspiciously at me. The Hunter... nodded at me, like he was making me a promise. I found myself nodding back, as if I had a clue as to what we were nodding about. Really I just wanted him to stop looking at me like that.

"There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" Klaus crouched in front of the Hunter.

He'd said the same thing to me once.

I felt the violence in the air a second before. "Klaus—"

The Hunter's arm shot out and in it a wooden stake of sorts. Klaus's hand shot out too, catching the wrist of the man, and for a moment I swear the tattoos shifted.

"Nice try, but I'm faster than the average vampire." The weapon cracked against his face and his wrist t snapped too. Klaus stared at the weapon he took from the Hunter, tracing a finger over the identical symbols on his hand. "You're one of the five." He murmured.

"The what?"

"I'm faster than your average hunter,"

Everything went slowly. All eyes shifted to his hand on the wire. The wire connected to the explosives, and in the next second, I was in the air, then face down on the floor and a blast of heat scalding my back. There was an arm draped over my back and glass crushed into my palms.

I stood, moving away from Damon, brushing glass from my clothes. There was glass embedded in my arms, preventing me from healing.

A moment of panic and I wasn't sure if it was mine or Klaus's. There was a fire still raging and then the glass was pressed further still into my arm and I cried out in pain in the air for a painful moment before I was shoved on my feet again.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Carlo growled in my ear viciously. His hand was still vehement on my upper arm, making me silently scream in pain. The glass was going in, deeper, and his hand was getting tighter before it loosened and he glared at the vampire on the floor. Blood trickled between his fingers and down my arm. There was a maddening rage about him, and he was looking at me up and down, unsure of what to say first. I was surprised he wasn't stammering with rage.

"Get off me!"

He was growling, low, and people were screaming up and down the halls.

"You bloody fool!" He snarled and began hauling me out roughly towards the exit. "I left you for a day and you're involved—"

"Carlo, let me go." I snapped, hoping he didn't hear my voice shake.

"You even drank him—"

"It's not like that—"

"It's exactly like that!"

I was stronger now. I had hybrid running through my veins. I pulled his arm away from mine and walked out in front of him, not wanting to be caught in the chaos.

"Do you want your family to be stuck alone? Do you want them to see your body and know all hope is lost for them?"

He was walking so close to me I felt his breath on my neck as he growled, violent, angry.

"I wouldn't have died." I said tightly as we walked out to the sunlight. His Ducati was almost right in front of the doors.

"Get on the bike, Isabella." He snarled. "And get your story straight. You're telling me everything."

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