“So the fae do exist. Marvelous!”
His words inform me that he knows what I am and we can skip the senseless threats back and forth, which is good because I’m not sure I can bluff well enough to convince this man to get out of the house. Truth is, I could easily do a great deal of damage to the charming demon, but it would drain me of all the energy I need to heal my husband who I now hover over in a protective stance. His health had to be my first priority, but I could do nothing until Niklaus was out the door.
“You know what I am and you should know the stories are all true of my kind, just as they were true of yours. Leave now and we shall have no further quarrel. Stay and I will prove I can dispense justice in the swiftest and most convincing manner.”
I smile sweetly without a hint of warmth melting the ice in my voice. My words must have been enough because Niklaus leans around me before flipping out his phone and taking a picture of Damon prone on the floor.
“I think this may be proof enough for my sister that I am not one to take being rebuked lightly. Even from her. Be sure to tell your husband all the ways you love him, like I’ve told my Rebekah. It makes the parting so much more romantically tragic. Good evening, Mrs. Salvatore.”
I wait for a moment for Niklaus to have left the house before rushing to the door and placing my hands on the frame.
“I revoke access to the house for Niklaus Mikaelson.”
A small amount of magic to hopefully seal the spell and I am back on the floor with Damon, my hand ripping open his shirt completely to see the bite. I set my palm on top while allowing my light to course through me and race towards the wound. After a few seconds, I remove my hand to see the wound almost completely gone, but still festering beneath the surface.
“No no no no no. This is impossible. I gave you plenty enough to heal you!”
“Babe, if your fairy mojo isn’t enough to zap the werewolf rabies from me, we may be in slightly more danger than either of us wants to admit. Think maybe we should call in some reinforcements?”
“Yes! My love, you are brilliant!” I bring Damon up to kiss him quickly, noticing the wince of pain. Laying him back down gently, I place a call to the one person who has devoted his lifetime to the research of supernatural lore - Alaric. I fill him in on the situation and ask him to come over right away with the information that will surely alleviate any of my growing worries and tell us how I can secure my husband’s immortality.
It is a few hours later that I find myself out on the porch, pondering the secret I have maintained all these years. Alaric told us of two cures for a werewolf bite. The first was cosmically perfect in a million ways. The blood of a hybrid was a swift method for counteracting the toxin. Seeing as how it was the hybrid who bit Damon, that seemed unlikely to be the answer.
The other option was even more cruel. It seems that the blood of a parent could also keep the poison from wreaking havoc. A simple sip from mother or father, a gift of pure love, was one of the greatest sources of magic known. Damon and Alaric simply dismissed that one as well, since both of his parents were long since dead. I excused myself to the porch as the realization the secret I had kept for so long could come out now. I had never told Damon of how I witnessed his mother being taken the night of Stefan’s birth. The compelled chambermaid told the story to Giuseppe of a footman taking Mary’s body to the undertaker. A closed coffin, empty but of enough random ballast to mimic the weight of a body inside, was lowered into the ground.
I knew the blonde woman had been a vampire. I could always sense the supernatural in whatever form they took and thus assumed Mary was soon to have that nature as well. If so, I never understood why she didn’t come back for her children. Why had she abandoned them so callously? There must be a very good reason based on how I had witnessed her love for her first son, but there was no way Damon would believe that. He would only see it as one more person rejecting him and that I would not allow.
And so here I sit. Burdened with knowledge and a love that consumes me. Waiting for the answer to come.
And come it does. There is no way I can place another burden on Damon’s heart when it could be one of the last things he knows. Besides, where would I even begin to look for Mary? Who was to say she was even still alive? If she was, the vast world lay before me and I had not the time to scour it. I would go to Niklaus and make an offer that would hopefully prove to be too tempting to turn down. Damon would never forgive me this, but I had no choice. I would prefer an eternity of his existence hating me, than even a moment with him dead.
I returned to the house to find Damon in a slumber and Alaric bent over a whiskey bottle, the faint trace of tears on his scruffy cheek. He looks at me quizzically when I say I have to go and would he watch over Damon in my absence. I don’t linger to give any details, but fly out of the house and head towards the only decent hotel in Mystic Falls. If you were an immortal god, would you stay at a Motel 8? As I predicted, a little bit of flattery and a flash of cleavage got me the room number I needed and I soon found myself outside the door that may lead to my own damnation. Yet I didn't hesitate to knock. There was nothing to second guess.
“Well isn’t this a most foreseeable surprise? Tell me, was it the accent or the dimples that drew you back to me? Already looking for a replacement vampire to feed your needs once this one waltzes off this mortal coil, in a manner of speaking?”
I bristle at even the insinuation that I would so easily move on from the man who I value more than my own life. However, now is not the time to get into a war of words with a man who has had a millenium to sharpen his tongue on a plethora of worthy opponents.
“I have come to make you an offer, Mr. Mikaelson. In exchange for healing my husband I will give you the only thing I possess of any value. Me.”
“If I wished for a bedmate, I could easily procure one at that nasty Grill in the center of town. I’m sure you’re quite talented and you must taste like ambrosia, but I have a sister who has chosen her friends over me and that is a slight I don’t get over with a single fuck.”
“You have received a taste of what my magic can do and I am willing to offer you a taste as to what my blood can make you feel, but there is more that I can offer. It is quite obvious you have a particular focus on familial relations. I can help you extend that. I can give you a child.”
“Hasn’t your husband let you in on a little secret, love? Vampires cannot procreate, but we sure love to try.”
“No, vampires can't procreate with humans, except I am not human. Although it is considered a grave sin in my culture to dilute our bloodlines, we have been granted the gift of fecundity with any other supernatural creature. You could have a genetic child as opposed to those vile hybrid progeny that could never match your greatness. Imagine the possibilities. You give my husband your blood and I give you my womb.”
Cold blue eyes widen as I finish my offer before walking over to the desk beside me and picking up a photo. A single finger seems to caress the image tenderly before Niklaus resumes speaking to me.
“My sister had a strange notion in her head for the longest time about wishing to be human again. She wanted children to raise and coddle in ways we weren’t. A niece or nephew would bind her to me more strongly than any form of revenge, it’s true. How do I know I won’t discover you are barren or this all is a ruse to get your cure?”
“There is a witch by the name of Bonnie Bennett in town. She could easily be able to determine my fertility. As you know, it is one of the gifts of being a witch. I would like two weeks to say goodbye to my husband. It is as long as I can keep him alive using only my magic. In that time I’m sure you could find out the truth of my words from any who know of the fae. You are a clever man.”
He places the picture down on the desk and moves over to the window, a most pensive figure who I am sure isn’t look out at the view of our pretty town. As he mulls over his reply, I move to the desk for a glimpse of the sister whose actions have precipitated this mess. As I get my first look at golden hair, my heart stops.
My god...it is her! The woman who in the dead of night made off with Mary Salvatore! That mystery woman may hold the key to saving my husband and my soul! I can barely wrap my head around it when I hear Niklaus begin to speak once more. I surreptitiously stuff the picture in my pants pocket to take with me.
“Very well. Two weeks in which to say your goodbyes, either to Damon’s life or your old one while I determine if what you say is true. I warn you, Madelena. I do not wish to add to my list of those who have earned retribution, especially not one as lovely as you, but I will place you there in a moment if you are lying.”
“Of course! Do whatever you must! Two weeks!”
I make a hasty retreat from the room and drive back to the Boarding House in a blur of speed and hope. Running into the living room, I grab the glass from Alaric’s hand and shove the picture over to replace it.
“Do you see this woman, Ric? She is Rebekah Mikaelson, Niklaus’s sister who he came here seeking vengeance against. She is the very answer to our prayers. Sit down as I tell you the story of a mother and her true fate 150 years ago.”
As Ric listens to my tale, I think of the sign I saw in the background of what appeared to be a very recent photo - Hôtel Meurice. I was about to send Ric to Paris to retrieve our most lethal weapon against the Original Hybrid.