One: A Night At El Fey

"Bennett! Your break's over! Stop daydreaming and get those skinny patas back upstairs!"

Bonnie looked up from her book with a sigh.

"Just two more minutes, Jimmy. Gotta finish this paragraph."

The man who had rudely pulled her out of her reveries now stood over her shoulder and snatched her book from her grasp.

"Hey!"

"Huh, The Blacker the Berry. Are you reading smut on my watch?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"It's a novel."

Jimmy grinned. "What's it about?"

Bonnie put on her pumps and tied their laces, preparing for another feet-killing shift.

"It's about this girl who…has to accept herself."

She didn't go any further. Jimmy may have been Puerto Rican (his real name masterfully erased), but he still considered himself two or three steps above "Negros". If she went on to tell him that the novel was about accepting your dark skin, he'd call her a radical and maybe even consider talking to the boss about lowering her wage.

She tucked the novel back in her purse, under the counter and went to refresh her lipstick in the staff room, which was just a cupboard with a mirror.

She turned on the dangling light bulb overhead and was accosted by her own pale image. She had not slept well the night before. Or the night before that. She was cramming textbooks by streetlight, memorizing dates and numbers as she helped old Cara Sedwick, the unemployed widow on the block, feed her kids, solving algebra equations in her head while she helped Grams at the market.

"One day, I'll hear my Bonnie's been run over by the tram and I'll be comfortable knowin' she was reciting Shakespeare in her head," her grandmother would joke to her friends.

Day in, day out, Bonnie Bennett was studying for her college admission. All her free time outside the bar was spent at the Schomburg Center. That was where she'd gotten The Blacker the Berry.

She was determined to be the girl on East 130th Central Harlem who would go to a women's college. She was applying to Wells College in Aurora, the Scotia Seminary in North Carolina and Oberlin in Ohio. One of these was bound to accept her.

But she had to be sharp and better than most of her peers to get a full scholarship, so while she powdered her cheeks in the mirror, lined her eyes and rouged her lips, she also started enumerating the major ramifications of the Hamilton financial system of the 1780s.

Two bejeweled hands caught her by the waist and tickled her ribs.

"Whatcha doing, Bon?"

The stocky blonde behind her gave her a brilliant grin. She was oiling her bob, puffing it up so it looked bigger.

"That trick's not gonna work, Care."

"Oh, shush. It's a quiet night tonight, anyway. So, studying up again?"

"You bet. I think I'm going nuts."

"Remember my offer? It still stands. I could easily set you up with one of my fellas, and you wouldn't need so much education. I mean…it's swell and everything, but a girl needs a rest. And you really do. I've got just the right banker."

Bonnie smiled. "Thanks. One day I'll take you up on that offer."

Caroline was always joking like that. She still worked as a waitress, but claimed she could give it up at the drop of a hat, if she ever felt like it. She was one of those happy spirits who chose to believe hard work was just a hobby. She was sure several men would open their pockets if she ever got into real trouble.

Bonnie knew very well few of her "fellas" would keep a black mistress, and those who did, did not treat them very well. But wasn't it nice to think that one day someone would walk into that sordid bar, a man with great intellect, great tolerance, great wisdom, and he would tell her that it was all right, after all, if she went home with him, because he wouldn't treat her like an exotic bird?

But even such men, when you got a closer look, were compensating for something, wanted to feel less guilty for spending the night in front of a drink.

Caroline tightened Bonnie's corset and slipped a dollar between her breasts.

"Here. I made that Rio Rita joke you told me and it got me a tip. I'm giving you half."

"Such generosity," she quipped.

"That's all you'll get from me in a while. My cousin from Baltimore is coming to stay with me and she's all broke. I gotta help her out, Ma's orders."

Bonnie helped Caroline fix her blue peacock shawl on her shoulders and tapped her cheeks lightly to get the blood running.

"If I get evicted, can I live with you at college? I'll carry your books."

"Funny," Bonnie murmured, smiling softly.

"I'm not even joking. Anyway, you should wear your red bow tie tonight."

"Is there a special occasion?"

"Well, no, but if they raid us tonight, you can pretend you're a Ziegfeld girl or something."

Bonnie ushered her out of the cupboard and they both climbed up the stairs to join the rest of the girls in the club. The guests were going to arrive soon.

"Well, seems the best looking girls are hiding behind the bar. Now how is that fair?"

Caroline bent her head and winked at the terrifyingly handsome young man in front of her. His jaw was strong and he wore a white tux like no other. This was no small compliment, because she liked to believe she was not easily impressed. He seemed to want to talk to her and he smelled nice too; he wore expensive cologne, not the cheap kind that made her tear up.

"Ah, sweetheart, could you get another glass for my good friend, Nik?"

He pointed out a table in the back where a serious-looking business type and a bored blonde were eyeing the crowd with condescension. Caroline bit her lip. She would've rather stayed here at the bar with this mysterious stranger.

"How about you? Aren't you thirsty?" she asked, tongue-in-cheek.

He paused, his eyes lingering on her figure in a way that made her stomach flutter. He seemed to want to drink her.

"What's your name?"

"Caroline."

"Lovely. How did you read my mind, Caroline?"

"I guess I have a talent. Let me guess, Bourbon?"

The young man grinned. "I'm impressed. Would it be against the custom if I kissed your hand?"

"Only if you stopped there," she flirted, blushing. Usually, she liked to tease and keep the guy guessing, but he was dazzling her and she found she was being more honest than usual.

"Well, you're quite something," he murmured and his fingers suddenly tipped her chin up, sending a strange shock throughout her body. He looked into her eyes. Caroline felt elated. A strange compulsion made her want to sit next to him all night long. It was those hazel eyes which seemed to delve into her own and reduce her will to nothing.

It was time to send out a signal to Bonnie.

She took out a small pocket mirror and aimed it in the direction of her friend, who was serving a table nearby.

Bonnie recognized the small, regular flashes coming from the bar. Caroline was talking to her in Morse Code again.

Talking to swell guy. Help with drink? Guy in back near chandelier.

Bonnie threw her a look.

Caroline puckered her lips and blew her cheeks like a character in a sentimental tramp movie, a display she knew her friend would find hard to resist.

Bonnie nodded reluctantly.

She filled her tray with flutes of champagne and meandered her way to the couple in the back.

"Welcome to El Fey, sugars. How may I serve you, tonight? Glass of bubbly champagne?" she recited with a put-on smile, batting her eyelashes. The black girls were supposed to affect an accent too. She had decided on a mixture of German and Yiddish. The latter she had learned from Mrs. Sedwick.

The beautiful blonde raised her eyes and surveyed her critically.

Her eyes darted quickly behind her towards the bar. Bonnie had a feeling she was watching Caroline and her mysterious stranger. She did not seem pleased.

Her companion, a strange-looking man with sharp cheekbones, raised his fingers for a flute.

Bonnie bowed down until the tray was at the level of his hand.

He eyed her neck for a moment before taking a glass.

She had worn the bow tie, after all. Her throat looked like a Christmas present.

"Nik, she's not wearing any gloves," the blonde spoke up in a thick British accent.

It was then that Bonnie realized she had indeed forgotten her gloves in the cupboard. Jimmy would have berated her for her "indecorous manners", but she thought little of it. The guests, however, were the masters.

"Beg pardon, Madam," she replied, her accent slipping, "it won't happen again."

The blonde smiled a rather cold smile. "No, no, it's quite all right. Easier access."

Bonnie could not decipher the meaning of her words. She was momentarily confounded.

"Now, Rebekah. Show some self-control," the man spoke in a kindred British accent, all the while eyeing Bonnie's bow tie.

Bonnie had dealt with "eccentric" individuals before. They never seemed to give Caroline as many problems as they gave her.

She smiled a sweet smile and asked, in a honeyed voice,

"Shall I get you some cigars?"

"Thank you, love, but I will have to pass. Now, why don't you sit down? I'm sure you're tired," the man replied, patting his hand on the seat between him and his companion.

"Thanks kindly, but I'm as jittery as a junebug and have to get back to work," she replied in the stilted manner of someone who had had to learn these lines.

"Work can wait, surely. We will tip you extra," he continued, undeterred.

The policy of the speakeasy was you had to do what the customer told you, especially if you were a black girl with "arrogant aspirations", as Jimmy had coined it.

She had been fondled and groped before, but the couple before her looked a cut above such activities.

She hovered around them undecidedly.

"I can't sit down, I'm afraid, but maybe the Madam wants a glass of champagne?"

The blonde trailed a sharp nail on the small ornate table in front of her.

"What I want is for Stefan to return. But, since he is occupied at the bar, you will have to do. Now sit down."

She looked straight into Bonnie's eyes with a fierce, almost commanding gaze.

Okay, she's loony, Bonnie thought, stepping back.

"Why don't I get you a gimlet? All the girls love it. It's got gin, a spot of lime and soda."

The blonde sighed tiredly.

"I'm out of practice, Nik. You compel her. I'm bored."

The copper-haired man leaned forward and smiled a rather devious smile. She could not pinpoint what was so strange about it. After all, many men leered at her on a daily basis, but there was something hollow and wrong about his smile.

"What's wrong, love? Nervous? There is no need. We just want a bit fun. Why don't you join us?"

His pupils shrank and dilated in the same moment. Bonnie watched with morbid fascination. Whoever these two were, they certainly did not belong here.

He offered his hand.

"My sister will enjoy your lovely wrists. And I will untie that pretty little bow round your neck."

Bonnie gasped, repelled by his insinuations.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not that kind of establishment, Sir. You will find a brothel just round the street. No need to tip me," Bonnie said in her normal voice, turning around with a shiver of something between fear and disgust.

She could feel their gaze on her back, but she kept on walking calmly towards the bar, even though her heart was hammering in her chest. There was no doubt they would talk to the manager about her "impolite conduct". It had happened before. She had not been fired then, but now?

She was almost tempted to run back and beg them not to complain, but Grams had told her that once you lost your self-pride, you lost everything.

"Good God, Nik. Are you getting old?"

Niklaus swatted her hand away from his shoulder. She grinned with ferocity. Rebekah so enjoyed making fun of him.

"Don't act like you did any better," he retorted.

"I can't believe you couldn't do it! It's the first time in – what? – a hundred years?"

"Tread carefully, sister. I'm not in the mood to be provoked," he replied, eyeing the room with renewed dark interest. The little minx, whoever she was, had disappeared, along with her red bow tie.

"Do you think she'll tell on us?" Rebekah giggled spitefully, leaning back into her seat.

"I'd cease this display, Bekah. It's no laughing matter. The girl managed to walk away from two Originals."

"I know, and that's what I find hilarious. I don't suppose this bar stocks on vervain."

Nik scowled. "Vervain or not, she should have been unable to fight the compulsion."

His sister inspected her fingers indifferently.

"Where is Stefan, anyway?"

"He is probably feeding on some unsuspecting escort, but he's hardly our problem now."

"Do you think he went after that vapid bint at the bar? Oooh, maybe he's found the bowtie and is feasting on her already."

For some obscure reason, the suggestion angered him to a surprising degree and he threw his sister a withering glare.

"He had better not."

"Lord, Nik, you're already besotted with her. You and Stefan always fall for some poor kitchen mouse and then I have to sit alone all night long."

"For once, stop thinking only of yourself."

"Right, I must always care about your feelings first. Well, go after her then. I know you want to. If you end up killing her, save me a glass. She looked rather delicious," Rebekah commented wistfully.

Bonnie massaged her weary ankles. The night was still young, but her toes were already protesting. Her break would soon be over and so far, no angry Jimmy had barged down the stairs, shouting abuse.

But soon…

She felt a shiver every time she remembered the way those two had looked at her, like she was only a piece of meat. The man's gaze, in particular, had startled her. It seemed to speak of eerie depths and bottomless pits. New York was full of such dreamlike creatures, rich, glassy-eyed, indifferent, but utterly fascinating in their Otherness.

She heard footsteps down the stairs.

Oh, God. Here it comes.

The click of heels on wood. It was only Meredith, dressed in her usual dancing costume. She was adamant about reminding people she had once been a trained dancer.

"Bonnie, have you seen Caroline? I'm swamped up there and I can't find her anywhere."

"Maybe she went out for a smoke?" Bonnie suggested. Come to think of it, when she had walked away from the nefarious couple, her friend was no longer at the bar. It had been some time since then.

"I checked outside. I checked the bathrooms. I even checked the cellar. Thought she might've grabbed a drink. She's no show."

Bonnie rose from her chair, wobbling on her swollen feet.

"I think she left with a guy," Meredith suggested with some rancor.

"She wouldn't do that during a shift."

"Well, she was flirting a mighty lot with this fella who looked a bit too cut, if you know what I mean."

Bonnie frowned. She remembered the man who had impressed Caroline enough to make her use her mirror. He did not strike her as particularly dangerous, but then again, appearances deceived.

"You don't think…he did something to her?"

"Ha. No. Caroline probably left willingly."

Bonnie shook her head. "Doesn't sound like her." Her friend let unknown men walk her home and buy her flowers, but she was not in the habit of taking off with a stranger. At least not until she talked about it with Bonnie.

"Once in a while, a girl gets crazy about some guy and you can't do anything about it," was Meredith's wise reply.

Bonnie suddenly remembered something. The strange guests had mentioned the man at the bar. The blonde had been looking at Caroline with displeasure, perhaps jealousy? Could they possibly know him, then? In fact, hadn't she also said a name?

Stefan.

Bonnie felt cold. If he was part of their entourage, she had many reasons to get worried. The two had not "enjoyed" her, but all three might "enjoy" Caroline. Or worse, they might harm her.

"I – I'll try to find her," she said, running back up with her heart in her throat.

The couple was no longer seated at their table. And Caroline's mysterious beau had also disappeared. The sensible thing would have been to tell Jimmy right away, since he took care of such incidents, but she feared he would take issue with Caroline and believe the girl had left of her own accord. She went up to the Mexican doormen who were always polite to her.

"Guys, I need help. I think Caroline's in trouble. She's missing."

She went on to tell them about the three eccentrics and their unsavory intentions.

"Ay, chulada, there's one problem. She didn't go through these doors. We would've noticed, lo sabes?"

"What about those three?"

"Que no, we didn't see them. I can send Julio to check outside, if you like. But we can't make a big fuss. We don't want any noise. You understand."

She understood all too well. If people dressed in formal wear were seen coming out of what was supposed to be an innocuous warehouse, they would get in trouble.

"Please, I'd be very grateful."

"We'll handle it."

But she couldn't very well sit and wait, nor could she go on serving drinks. At the risk of angering both Meredith and Jimmy, she grabbed her coat and went outside to look for her.

Goddamn shoes.

Bonnie felt as if her soles were on fire, as if every step was like walking on hot coals. She ducked in and out of alleys. Julio was running up and down the street, shouting Caroline's name.

Bonnie exhaled and steam rolled out of her mouth like wisps of smoke. A cold February chill was running down her spine and through her thin coat.

"Caroline!"

She was scared, but she did not want to imagine what she should be scared for. Caroline was a strong girl. She had punched Jimmy in the stomach once and he had gotten so red, he had to leave the room. But could she overpower three people?

"Any luck, Julio?" she called out, watching a feral cat jump up the brick wall and into an apartment window.

"Julio?"

The street was empty, save for her.

"Julio, where are you?"

She walked towards a blinking street lamp. Had he gone too far?

She could see a black mass at the corner of the street, darker than the warehouses in the distance.

"Julio? Caroline?"

The silence unnerved her. She thought of going back into the club, perhaps to get more muscle, but leaving now might mean abandoning her friend to God knew what fate.

Gritting her teeth, she walked towards the black mass.

It was a lavish car, a Boattail Tourer, a modern marvel for someone who had never traveled in a Ford Phaeton, much less tried an Italian brand.

Then, quite suddenly, she felt both relief and fright when a pair of familiar hands grabbed her waist and tickled her ribs.

"Care –"

She turned around. Caroline was smiling lazily, her eye shadow slightly smudged. There was something absent about her.

"Oh, silly. You look so scared," she drawled, leaning forward.

"Are you okay? What happened -"

"You don't need to worry. Everything's perfect."

With that, she shoved Bonnie towards the car until the girl slipped. But instead of hitting her head against the pavement, she fell into a pair of strong arms, which caught her and pulled her inside the Tourer.

Caroline hopped in the front seat.

"You can trust them, Bonnie."

She gasped. She was staring into their eyes again, the man with the hollow smile and the blonde with a sharp appetite.

They were holding her down, their grip as strong as iron casts.

The man leaned down and dipped one finger under her bow tie. With one gentle flick, he tore it from her neck.

"I told you I would untie that pretty bow," he breathed hotly over her exposed throat.

Bonnie closed her eyes. She heard Caroline's laugh in the distance. Outside, Julio was shouting her name.

a little something I've been working on, hope you'll enjoy!