The Mystic Falls branch office of Kingmaker, Lucien Castle's company, is nearly completely renovated. An existing building was purchased and quickly staffed within the past few months, though I had yet to confirm if everyone here bought into Lucien's twisted plans, or if they were all compelled to look and behave like your average office to develop undeveloped land properties. Either way, the signs of a renovation company still fill the parking lot nearest to the backdoor.

The near billboard-sized sign sits outside, prominently displaying their most public project to the highway: a series of tourist trap four to five-star hotels to "experience historic Mystic Falls, Virginia." They were scheduled to begin breaking ground in the spring, though I wouldn't be surprised if it were sooner. It's all a front for something, but I don't know what. The only real history here is something too awful to really be celebrated.

My phone captures an image of the sign as the autumn air cuts me to my core, leaves rustling all around me. The text reply from Elena is quick, much quicker than I ever learned to do. He's really planning to be here for a while, then?

The group thread dings with another message before I can even put my phone down; only Caroline is that fast. There's no way my mom would let him stick around here if she knew what he was.

I sigh, not sure how to broach that whole topic. At the moment, the others were not completely aware of the founding families' involvement, but keeping them in the dark is only going to cause issues. Especially Caroline. That said, I don't want to see her upset, so it's a no-win situation. Ripping the band-aid off in a way that leaves me some semblance of "I didn't keep this from you for weeks" feels more appropriate.

The sun shines brightly on my neck, confidently protecting me from vampires under his employ who do not have a daylight ring. Something tells me that he wouldn't share that with many of his followers – he's too much like Klaus to trust anyone that implicitly without some real effort. That said, the windows on this building have definitely been replaced with the best sunlight-proof windows that money can buy, so going inside won't be anywhere near as safe.

Magic flows in my system for now, and it's on my person if I need more. I already checked the scrying pen – he's here, now. He wants me to join him, to work for him. Just have to play along, while the others get ready for whatever is next.

I wish I were a better liar.

"Excuse me, ma'am." The somewhat pudgy redhead at the front of the elaborate, modern office twists up her frown into the most awkward fake smile that I can imagine; she's a terrible liar too. "Let Lucien Castle know that I'm here to speak with him."

No need for fake cordiality. There's a strong chance she's as evil as they come.

Fiddling with the phone, the slightly plump woman nods after half a second. "What business do you have with Mr. Castle today?"

"None that overlap with yours, Patty."

After a long, grumbling sigh, she dials the intercom. At the sound of the beep, three dark-haired men enter into the awful fluorescent light, each showing signs of vaguely implacable nationalities and general attractive features. It's not that every attractive person that I meet might be a vampire, but ugly people aren't as likely to be turned; handsome or pretty features are desired by everyone, but especially when vampires look for whom to turn in a crowd. After all: why would you want to share your eternity with someone like Steve Buscemi when you could aim for Ian Somerhalder?

Either way, I suspect the three of them are vampires, moving in unison to guard the lobby from my presence. Smartly, they stand far enough away from the glass double doors that letting the sunlight properly inside would give them enough time to get out of the way. Their hands are coolly clasped behind them, hiding potential daylight rings.

I try to ignore them, though they cannot help but occasionally send predatory glances my way. All three of them would love the chance to feed. An odd thought comes to mind to provoke them, but that's suicide.

Patty returns to my attention. "An escort will be down soon enough. Have a seat."

The uncomfortable bench is uncomfortable, but I know for a fact that Lucien is just keeping me waiting on purpose. Or perhaps this bitch is. Either way, it's a petty show of power.

Finding my seat, I casually sit in as best a position as I can. "How long have you been working for Lucien, Patty?"

She rolls her eyes as she answers the ringing phone, and it turns out Lucien does enjoy delivering small mercies. There are no terrible waiting room magazines.

The group thread continues as I wait, but no real ground is covered. Damon's still on the outside of my plans and not communicating with Stefan or anyone else. Matt's not spoken to anyone in a couple days, but Vicki's been to work recently. Bonnie has arguably more on her plate than Elena's impending demise, between magic and reconciling with her family. Meanwhile, Elena remains as confused as ever about all this, second only to Caroline, but they're all learning.

Involving them in all this is probably a mistake, but I know they're capable allies. Finding and killing one of the Five would probably be a good thing overall for Jeremy, assuming television logic would still choose Jeremy to be the next hunter, but that opens far too many cans of worms, both morally and practically.

Finally, a beautiful redheaded woman enters the room from the elevator in the hallway, striding toward me in a sleek black dress that is by no means professional, nor suited for before ten in the morning. The two of us lock eyes from across the room, and the vampire guards stand at attention between the two of us, hawk-like eyes following my every move.

Alexis, Lucien's witch, the one who can prominently forecast enough of the future to drive an entire season's plotline. That's far more impressive than any predicting that I've ever done, but not sure how she compares to Megan, my not-mother.

"It's nice of you to join us, Logan."

"It's nice to meet you too. Alexis, right?"

We shake hands, and she links arms with me, leading me toward the elevator. No messages pass between us through our close proximity, but for all I know, I'll never be able to read her. She seems the type to have that sometimes-tactile-insight blocked away. Bonnie's better at it than me, anyhow.

The button for the top floor is not as impressive as it might be in a city like New Orleans, this one only the fifth floor. Even so, I still suspect that the entire top floor is his to play with.

"I've seen a lot about you. Curious events lie ahead." She's a smooth talker and far too pretty to now know it.

"They always do."

Calm elevator music fills the silence as we ride to the top, though she does not let go of my arm the entire time. She must know that I could siphon away her magic and leave her defenseless, so this, too, is just to display her advantage.

Not having it.

I reach up with a finger on the button to hold the door to the elevator closed before it can open, muttering a single word to cloak our audio for a few seconds.

"Witch to witch, seer to seer. Why do you work for him?"

She glances down at the floor, nonplussed, as she does nothing to interact with the magic cloaking us for the moment. Her eyes meet mine. "My reasons are my own, just as I'm sure that your reasons are your own for why you are here."

I'm tempted to break into the whole "servants of nature" situation, but I've never really bought into that philosophy. It'd feel hollow.

"What have you seen about me?"

With a feat of strength that is not at all impressive for someone of his abilities, the double doors slide open against the will of the elevator's technology to reveal a sharply-dressed thousand-year-old man with dark hair and a slender build, his eyes sparkling excitedly like he would with any potential guest. With a metallic whine, I drop my hand from the button and end the spell, just as he wipes a bit of blood away from his mouth, leaving it mostly dry but stained. A glimmer in his eye meets my gaze, before he turns to address the room.

"Apologies for the disarray. I'm a messy eater." He clicks his teeth, and two half-dressed women on auto-pilot stand from their lounging positions, not bothering to hold their wounded necks from dripping across the neat hardwood. "Run along friends, and be sure to come back for dinner."

They make their exit down the elevator shaft, leaving Alexis and I in the small foyer with him. She moves to adjust his tie, but he brushes her off with a lazy wave of his hand, before stepping far too close to me for comfort. "Would you mind?"

I stare at him for a long moment and then carefully adjust the piece of fabric, feeling a bit of not-quite-dry blood against my fingers. As I hold it taut against his throat for longer than necessary, I wish that siphoning were something that could do more damage immediately than just causing him pain.

"Did you enjoy my gift?"

"No."

"Come now, some part of you must have enjoyed the prospect. I could smell your attraction to him from a mile away." When I shake my head fervently, anger steadily rising, he sighs. "Perhaps another candidate then?"

"No! No matter what the rest of my dealings here may hold, I don't want you to do that to anyone else, or threaten anyone else that I care about." I grit my teeth tighter with each word. "I should kill you where you stand for that. Toying with someone's life to make them a… plaything? In what universe would you think that's okay?"

"A fun one?" He laughs as he steps away and stands behind the desk, drumming his fingers across it, and then gestures for us to find a seat. "I can see your point, Logan. I promise that nothing of the sort will happen again."

"Am I supposed to believe you?"

"You'll have to learn to."

Alexis scoffed. "Lucien's more bark than bite."

I'm not sure that I could have rolled my eyes harder if I tried. "So… why am I here, Lucien? What is it that you need me to do?"

Lucien grins a Cheshire grin, and I finally take a seat on a chair as far away from the bloody sofa as I can.

"This world is nothing but a complex network made of several… interwoven threads. The food wars amongst itself, ignorant to the hidden factions that should and ultimately do hold the true authority in this chaotic world. Even still, threats rise and powers fall at every turn. I wish to have every advantage at my disposal to… weave my interests into the fabric."

This philosophy is fascinating, but he strikes me as nowhere near as Lawful Evil as that statement may read.

"Why haven't you stepped in to stop human wars, then? A bit of compulsion here and there, and no politician in the world would have a desire to declare war."

Lucien blinks, and then his face stretches into a smile again. "I have a feeling that a colleague of mine would love to have you in his employ. He is far more concerned with… nobler pursuits for our superiority than I."

Tristan and his Strix.

"So you don't actually have a problem with it, then."

He shakes his head. "Not especially. It is wasteful, but oh so fun to see them all riled up over a few dozen dead in some horrid desert. Getting the sand out of my teeth was so difficult the last time that I was there." He chuckles, and then leans in as though sharing a secret. "One day, I hope you get the chance to experience just how much better they taste when they are in distress. There is nothing like it."

I do not miss the glance that Alexis just gave to me upon hearing that. How much does she know about what I would be if I transitioned?

Hell… she may have seen it. I don't quite defeat the shudder that rumbles through my shoulders, and Lucien's eyes twinkle.

Clearing my throat, I resettle on another thought. "So... what, then? Are Alexis and I just tools for you to make sure you end up on top? Foresee threats before they come."

"I prefer the term resource, and I can be a resource to you, Logan. You've already seen one way that I can help you."

My fist clenches, a fact that does not go unnoticed. An immaculate eyebrow rises in response, but Alexis interjects. "That idea aside, we can aid one another and find common ground."

"Yes. Alexis can teach you to wield the future like a scalpel, to carve out your greatest desires."

I peer at him, my brow raised this time. "Do you prefer a scalpel for that thing you do to your face, or will any old knife do?"

The mirth disappears quickly. He feigns serenity after a few short seconds, anger brewing beneath his gaze. He calmly stands, approaches the fireplace, and stares at the cool firewood. Alexis eyes me curiously, feeling the tension in the room, and he waves at her without looking back at us.

As though understanding a signal, she clears her throat. "When I was ten and barely conscious of magic, something that my coven called a psychic quake shuddered through me. Names, images, faces and words that I didn't recognize were a mix inside my mind, and I ran in terror from my family, not understanding the horrors that I alone truly witnessed. Years of working through those visions became an obsession, and a few years ago, I sought out the most prominent figure that I witnessed in them." She gestures to the man before her.

Interesting and certainly something that the show did not cover specifically, but…. "Why are we talking about this?"

The redhead shares a face of disappointment, lazily playing with a piece of fabric on her dress. "Because working with Lucien would get me to you."

"Me?"

"You – a Gemini newborn who triggered a psychic quake."

Oh.

Oh…

He mentioned my involvement before, but this? This is definitely not good.

Lucien's smirk is brilliant as he stands before us, hands clasped together before him. "You're the reason that I've come to town, Logan, and the future is bright for all of us. You just need to play nice."

The cell vibrates in my jeans as I contemplate my next move carefully.

"I don't know what you thought, or what you saw, but –"

"Let me show you." The cloth in her hand burns suddenly with vibrant smoke, spiraling around us. I'm not fast enough to avoid breathing it in, and my head slumps against the back of the couch. Sharp pain strikes into my wrist.

..:O:..

A darkly-lit room smells of sterile chemicals and sheets of blood-covered plastic. A masculine figure covered with an apron and wearing goggles and a facemask stands over a gurney, a still-twitching body strapped to it.

The gurney turns with a forceful shove from the doctor, revealing a bound Tyler Lockwood, his cries muffled from the huge contraption strapped to his face. Yellow liquid collects within tubes, trailing off toward some sort of collection chamber.

"Now now, there's no need to struggle." Why is that voice familiar? "Just like all the rest."

With a solid and desperate kick, Tyler manages to knock over a stand full of tools. As the doctor scrambles backward, syringe in hand, he hits the cabinet haphazardly. Tyler's screams begin anew when the head of his uncle falls off a shelf and lands on his chest, eyes unblinking at him and jaw broken.

..:O:..

The flames and smoke filling the night sky over Mystic Falls are nothing compared to the figures that dance across the street with impossible speed, my eyes unable to track them quickly enough to understand their identities. Wooden benches splinter into pieces, become projectiles thrown with impossible speed, and crack the not-yet-melted glass store-fronts. Car windows shatter as bodies crash against one another, and the front of a semi-truck flips end over end and smashes through the front door of the Mystic Grill.

The vision shifts, focuses on the shimmering blade sticking from the clocktower. The metal of the shortsword flickers in the fire-light as the flames threaten to approach the building. The hilt of the sword glows as the familiar jewel glows vibrantly in the chaos, almost taking in the light and the heat around it.

An obscure shape bolts up the wall with an impressive move of parkour, snatches the weapon from its perch, and descends downward in a blur. The figure bounds, step after step, right toward Caroline Forbes, her fangs on display.

..:O:..

The flood of images and sounds melds into the unmistakable angry roar of Niklaus Mikaelson as he warps and twists with pain, body contorting into the form of a great lupine beast over the course of seconds. Lightning cracks and wind swirls around him, a great storm bearing down upon the forest and threatening to flood the nearby lake, reflecting the light of the moon.

The pained anger becomes a howl, fresh blood dripping from his fur as he races through the forest, climbing with voracious speed up the embankment. The crunch of the canopy floor beneath his feet, the whine of the wind, and booming thunder is all anyone can hear.

He collides with nothing, rolling to a stop in the same breath as he returns to his canine feat, growling at forested manor. Several familiar voices chant in unison and fill the silence, yet I step onto the porch with my palms raised upward, electricity sparking between them and surging all around me.

The Original Hybrid howls once more, charging at the boundary even as ozone fills the forest. Electricity arcs toward him, forcing his immortal body to char and blacken as his flesh and his fur burns. His charge ends before he reaches me, body twitching as lightning makes its mark for a split-second, and it's through a great force of will that he remains in wolf form.

A new but expected figure darts onto the scene, stopping for a split-second before he strikes Klaus with a powerful kick, sending the wolf flying. A bloody smile with too large fangs marks the appearance of Lucien Castle, eyes as red as blood.

..:O:..

My eyes flutter with surprise, and a bit of focus shoves Lucien away several feet, shoes scuffing the hardwood as he slides to a stop almost gracefully. Blood from my wrist stains his sofa once more and ruins the front of shirt, and Alexis nearly shares his smirk.

"Fuck."

"My thoughts exactly." He wipes away the blood with his bare hand, licking his fingers. "What do you think that you saw?"

"I don't know." My instincts haven't led me wrong so far.

"Don't lie to me. The mayor and the sheriff have such interesting children, not yet enveloped in the world of the supernatural. They frequent that awful restaurant nearly as much as you do." He leans in, grinning. "Yet here they are."

"If you hurt them, I swear-"

He laughs. "I'm not interested in them." Face contorting into a serious expression, he leans closer. "Who were you bravely attempting to barbecue, Logan?"

Fuck.

Is he skipping over the Phoenix Sword intentionally?

"You're going to tell me anyway, aren't you?"

With mirth, he pulls back and chuckles. "Of course. That would be none other than Niklaus Mikaelson. You seem to be rather intelligent, so you've likely heard stories about him, haven't you?"

I nod, playing along as I rub my wrist carefully. "Witch circles say he's the worst of the Old Ones, but I've never seen a picture of him. All rumors. Wasn't sure what to believe."

Lucien's eyes twinkle. "Well, these visions are certainly hard to believe, but Niklaus being part-beast certainly explains a bitabout his behavior over the centuries." He says it like it's a joke, but it's anything but. Alexis watches the exchange with a bit of smugness that feels off. Maybe she's the one who figured that part out.

"This shouldn't be possible."

Lucien shrugs. "It certainly goes against what most believe possible, but in my experience, many things are possible with enough effort, a bit of elbow grease, and the right spell."

He turns without consideration for the conversation, approaching his desk. Thumbing carefully through a stack of books, he pulls just the right one with a graceful flourish. Bound in maroon leather and tied tight, the relatively new book shows no signs of yellowing pages. If it's a grimoire, it's new.

"Write down everything that you think would make such a… hybrid between an Original vampire and the werewolf possible."

I stare blankly at him.

Was… this his plan in the show? I thought Tristan, Lucien, and Aurora wanted to trap him with that weird inescapable prison spell. Or is this some weird consequence of him getting involved in the plot earlier than he should? Does he even know about the curse on Klaus, or even the faintest idea of how this all shakes out?

Feigning ignorance, I hold up a hand. "The Gemini Coven hasn't encountered werewolves before – this is all new information to me. How would I-?"

"Tell me your theories. Write them down." His face grows terse with every word, forcing the journal ever so closer. "Share what you think, what you believe, about how something like this could be possible, and what you think it would take to do it."

Fuck.

Alexis shares his grin from her position on the other sofa, lounging. "We can work this out together, Logan."

There's an opportunity here, somewhere, to fuck him over. Give him the wrong ingredient, give him the wrong words, leave out a specific component. Beyond the fact that it shouldn't be possible for him to have any werewolf abilities, there's so much nuance in how magic works that it would be ridiculously easy to ruin such a spell.

And that's what worries me. Alexis is not the only witch in his employ, and I'm sure that I'm not the only witch working on this. If they get closer or if Alexis notices that I'm baking in a fatal flaw, then I'm fucked.

...

There is even more of an opportunity to help myself.

I shakily pull the journal from his hand.

Lucien claps his hands together. "I am glad that we can come to an arrangement."