Chapter Text
Elena didn’t regret picking up the phone, even if it meant saying goodbye to the cute, six-foot-four, curly-haired, dimpled-smile guy she’d been talking to.
Okay. Maybe she regretted it a little.
He had that easy laugh. The kind that made you lean in without meaning to. The kind that suggested he didn’t know what it was like to bury people. Or fight for them. Or resurrect them.
She glanced at the screen.
Rebekah Mikaelson.
Elena exhaled through her nose, offering the guy an apologetic smile. “Family emergency,” she lied smoothly.
He grinned. “Should I be worried?”
“You have no idea,” she muttered under her breath before answering the call.
“Rebekah.”
“Elena,” came the crisp, impatient reply. “I require your assistance.”
Elena straightened slightly, memories of traveling together in Pennsylvania coming to the forefront of her mind.
“And why,” Elena asked lightly, “would I help you?”
A pause.
Then, sharp and edged with fury: “Because my brother has done something unforgivable. Again. Last I heard, you’ve gained quite the doppelwitch upgrade.”
Elena’s jaw tightened. There it was.
Klaus.
“What did he do this time?” Elena sighed. “And what makes you think I’d want to be back in his hitlist?”
“He’s daggered Elijah.”
Elena didn’t answer immediately, deep in thought. Her mind snagged on a single memory; Elijah standing between her and a bond that had stolen her choice, quietly dismantling Damon’s sirebond because she’d asked him to. Not that it mattered, in the end.
Across the table, her almost-date tilted his head. “Everything okay?”
Elena blinked, dragged back into the present. The restaurant lights flickered once above them.
“I have to go,” she said, giving him an apologetic smile as she stood.
On the other end of the line, Rebekah exhaled sharply. “I assumed as much.”
“You assumed correctly,” Elena replied, voice steady in a way she didn’t entirely recognize as her own. She grabbed her jacket.“For the record, I was on a date.”
“Tragic,” Rebekah replied flatly. “Wear something you can move in.”
The line clicked dead.
—
“I’ve acquired a witch to help us,” Rebekah declared, head nodding towards Hayley. “That should even the playing field quite a bit.”
Klaus didn’t bother looking at her at first. He swirled the amber liquor in his glass, watching it cling to the crystal as though it were infinitely more interesting than the threat she implied.
“Rebekah,” he sighed, almost fondly. “You once ‘acquired’ a witch who set my drapes on fire in protest. Forgive me if I don’t tremble.”
“She’s not local,” Rebekah replied, clipped and certain. “Do try not to kill her once she arrives, Nik. You, of all people, know the power her blood possesses.”
The liquor stopped mid-swirl. Rebekah smirked.
Hayley frowned, confused. “Wait. Who are we talking about? How is a witch going to help us? Hasn’t Marcel banned witches from using magic? That was kind of the whole point when I got into this mess.”
The doorbell rang. Rebekah’s smile widened. “Right on cue.”
Klaus set the bourbon down, forgotten.
Rebekah opened the door.
Elena Gilbert stood on the threshold, wind tugging lightly at her hair. The atrocious red was gone, and she had finally stopped forcing it straight or curling it into something deliberate, letting it fall in natural waves instead. Her gaze passed over Rebekah, lingered briefly on Klaus, then settled on Hayley.
“My, my. You’ve taken up spellwork?” Klaus’ eyes sharpened.
“I got tired of being part of the spell,” Elena shot back, remaining where she stood.
“You do still make a rather useful ingredient.”
Elena shrugged, head tilting lightly to the side. “Depends. On how powerful a spell you need.”
A beat.
Then Klaus smiled.
“Well,” he said smoothly, “I’ve always preferred powerful allies to reluctant sacrifices.”
Rebekah’s smirk faltered slightly.
Klaus gestured lightly toward the interior of the manor.
“Do come in, Elena. I’m sure Elijah’s mentioned it’s terribly uncivilized to negotiate on the doorstep.”
“The doppelganger?” Hayley’s head snapped towards Rebekah. “You thought inviting trouble with a pulse was a good idea?”
Surprisingly, it was Klaus that responded. “Do try not to reduce her to tabloid romance, love. Her kind’s considerably more useful than that. Tell me, Elena, how does one go from human to vampire to human to witch? Made a wish with a genie? Strike a bargain with a fairy?”
Elena stepped inside, duffel bag in tow. Her expression shifted lightly, “something like that.” She dropped the bag to her feet, choosing to sit in one of the love seats. “Though the fairy didn’t know what he was doing before he died.”
“And should I be concerned about this particular fairy tale?”
“Only if you plan on messing up the ending.”
“How could you help us find Elijah?” Hayley cut whatever it was they were doing. “You try to do a spell, Marcel will find and kill you.”
“Doppelgänger blood tends to solve most things.” Elena shrugged. “I’ll be cloaked. And unless your Marcel commands two thousand years of sacrificial magic, he won’t even know I’m here.”
“Then by all means,” Klaus said lightly. “Let us see what two thousand years can accomplish.”