Title: Sire

Rating: M

Genre: AU/Supernatural/Romance

Pairing(s): Bonnie/Klaus, Rebekah/Marcel, Stefan/Rebekah (minor), Caroline/Tyler, Matt/Katherine, Kol/Davina, Elijah/Celeste, Finn/Lucy, etc.

Summary: "She is my progeny. Blood of my blood. I am her maker. Her originator. Her ruler. She is of my creation and so she will never escape me." Niklaus Mikaelson sees Bonnie Bennett as the threat that she is and decides to eliminate her before she can interfere further with his plans by turning her into a vampire. However, in the after effects of the transformation not only does Bonnie become something unexpected by a connection forms between maker and progeny that neither of them are prepared for. Post 2x22

Warnings: Violence, Character Death, Sexual Content, Dub-con, Minor OCC-ness, etc.

Author's Note: This is a repost. This fic begins in between seasons one and two. For the sake of this fic, Bonnie's mortal side of the family lives in New Orleans. Basically the premise of this story is Bonnie gets turned into a vampire and is sired to Klaus, and a power play ensues in which both of them try and use the bond to their advantage, Bonnie having Rebekah's assistance throughout. I am skipping the whole Klaus needing Elena's blood to make hybrids thing because I want Elena to be obsolete in this fic and it isn't really needed in the context of this story. I will only say this once so please pay attention: forget everything that you know about the sired bond because I am basically reconstructing it into something that I find more interesting and palatable. Also this story is set mostly in New Orleans because Klaus' existence is going to supremely fuck up the balance in this and Mikael is not the only one who is going to want him dead, so the witches of the Quarter will be involved. That is all I will tell you for now. Hopefully the rest is explained as you read. Not much editing here so bear with me. As always feedback is very welcome. Thank you for reading!

One

"I have never seen a greater monster or miracle in the world than myself."

~Michel de Montaigne

It isn't a question as to whether or not he hates her. He does. It is a simple fact that reiterates itself within his mind over and over again as he obsesses over the girl and her power. The problem is that he desires her as well. But she isn't the first witch that has stirred this sort of feeling within him and so he knows what actions that he would have to take in order to remedy them under normal circumstances.

Ordinarily he would attempt to work her over in the same way in which he did the others. He would take his time. He would discover things about her slowly, and use them to infiltrate her life. He would find out the things that she most wanted to hear and then tell them to her. Whisper them into her ear, his voice low and seductive. But this one is different.

The hatred is genuine and mutual. Born of a handful of encounters and a result of the clashes of their motives and the conflict in their personalities. It isn't something that he can bypass with the right sentiments and the right words. And even if he could, he wouldn't because he wants to break her, he wants her to pay for what she had taken from him and for the feelings she had brought to the surface even as she did so.

Because of her, he nearly died. All his plans were nearly ruined. Because she refused to die and stay dead he had lost Greta Martin. He was now without a witch and until he started creating his hybrids he had no other means of protection. No magic at his disposal.

He was not a dumb man. He knew that Damon Salvatore would eventually come for his brother. Knew that the vampire would never be able to face him alone. Knew that Damon would call upon the witch and he would have to face her yet again. He also knew better than to underestimate her. He had before and it would not happen again.

She needed to be eliminated. Eradicated. Wiped out. But killing her would be too easy. Too simple. He wanted her to suffer, but he also wanted her to be powerless in the magical sense. That left one option. He would have to turn her.

Everyone was aware that one could be a servant of nature or an abomination of nature, but never both. If he turned her she would lose her power and her connection to the other side. Stefan had told him that she hated there kind and so he knew that she would suffer even more in becoming the monster that she despised. She likely wouldn't even transition. She would suffer, know what she had lost and then she would allow herself to die because she wouldn't be able to handle that loss.

She would die knowing that he was responsible. Knowing that she had paid for the transgressions against him, minor as they were. He was vengeful in nature, however, and even minor transgressions had to be atoned for in his eyes. Besides, she was a threat, and threats could not be allowed to let stand.

His intentions were clear and so even before he began to build his army, Klaus had sought the witch out. Followed Bonnie Bennett to New Orleans. A city where her mortal family dwelled. A city where he himself was once lord and master. A city he had fled from to escape from the same man that he was still running from now. Mikael. The man that he had once called father.

His presence in the city was yet unknown and he wanted it to stay that way. There were people that he had left behind that would not be pleased with his presence. There was a whole supernatural population that dwelled and intermingled with the mortal citizens that were just as likely to target Klaus as they were to welcome him.

He had done what he had set out to do. He had unleashed his wolf and had broken the hybrid curse. But there were consequences for breaking the balance and that was what his existence did. There was more than Mikael to worry about. There would be witches in the earthly realm and on the other side that would want to stop his progress. That would want to keep him from creating the army he so wanted to birth. And the witches in New Orleans were plentiful enough for him not to want to risk his existence on which side that they would land on.

It amused him that the witch's mortal family lived in a city with such a huge supernatural population and yet they were ignorant of the supernatural. Were the witch not mourning the fact that she would not be able to spend the summer with her toddler of a boyfriend; the witch would have realized the vastness of the supernatural community herself.

He had been watching her for days and she had hardly left the apartment that she was sharing with her wayward aunt whose name was Bernadette, and who fancied herself an artist. Bonnie Bennett had declared one of richest cities in culture, people, music, and magic, to be boring because she had not left the house to experience it and now she would not get the chance to.

Klaus watched her on this night as well. Sat out on her fire escape in the dense darkness and watched the girl sitting on the bed in a room that was her cousins before the man had moved in with his girlfriend a month earlier. It was a funny thing, the amount of information he was able to get about her and her family from just observing from afar. He probably knew more about her then her friends did and that was just sad.

His own family still inhabited their coffins in a storage unit at a self-storage facility on Bourbon Street. Stefan was out enjoying the city's night life and scoping things out. He had reported back to Klaus that though there were wolves in the city, they seemed to be in hiding. Klaus could lure them out easily with the promise of power and freedom he said, and so Klaus would, as soon as Bonnie was taken care of.

Klaus adjusted his leather jacket and made himself comfortable on the step on which he sat. He stretched out his jean clad legs, his boots sliding against the bars. He checked his watch and frowned. The witch was usually in bed by now.

He watched as she finally closed the grimoire that she had been looking in. That seemed to be all that she did. Look through grimoires and attempt to contact her friends in Mystic Falls through some means or another. However, she normally failed. Now that there wasn't a threat lurking over their heads, it seemed that they had no use for her anymore.

He had found out through the very few conversations she had managed to have with the others, that they had found a way to allow the Gilbert girl to survive the sacrifice. He didn't care. She meant nothing in the long run and seeing as she had had the witch in her arsenal it didn't surprise him much. He would of course have to kill her if her surviving hindered the progression of him making the hybrids in any way, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

He doubted it would have an effect in the long run. Elijah had been sure that the elixir that he had hoped would spare Katerina before would not have interfered with Klaus' plans had it worked. So whatever means the witch had used to spare Elena Gilbert, would likely not hinder him in any way.

His attention returned to Bonnie when she began to dress for bed. He watched with interest as she put on her pajamas. She was beautiful, he could admit that. From her dark curls, to her almond skin, to the eyes that seemed to flicker from green to hazel depending on the light. He found appeal in it all. Her small stature. Her crooked mouth. Her flat stomach. Her toned legs. Her small hands and slender fingers.

It was a waste. That beauty. That power. He would have to tamper it out, all because he knew that he could not sway her and her loyalty would never be to him.

As she slipped into shorts and a tank top and moved to turn out the light, Klaus anticipated his chance to strike. When the room was pitched in black, he listened as she got into bed. Listened as she settled into position. She slept on the right side. He favored the left. They were opposites in all respects in seemed.

He waited as she laid down, shuffling on the bed until had made herself comfortable. Within twenty minutes she was asleep. His enhanced hearing allowed him hear the moment when her breathing evened out and her heart rate slowed.

He stood from his sitting position and squatted in front of the window. Making sure to keep his movements quiet, he forced the window open. He was greeted by the soft sound of her snoring as he climbed through the window and into the bedroom.

He moved forward, easily able to see his way in the dark. Walking up to the bed, he watched her for a moment. She was smiling softly in her sleep. At peace.

Peace was something that he had never been able to find. Even now, after coming so close to accomplishing what he had spent decades trying to achieve, all that Klaus had was unrest. If he could not have peace, then the witch would not have peace.

Reaching down, he ran his fingers along the side of her face. A gently caress. A mock display of affection.

A moment later he was pinching her nose, cutting off her air supply. He allowed his fangs to descend and bit into his wrist. He watched the black red blood flow from the wound as he waited. It did not take long for her mouth to open in search of air.

Klaus pressed his wrist to her lips, his blood flowing freely into her mouth. He let go of her nose as her green eyes snapped open. There was surprise. There was fear. There was panic. He smiled smugly as he ran his fingers through her hair. He bore his weight down on her as she began to struggling against him as she woke.

"Shhhh," he said, his hand moving to wrap around her wrists, "It'll all be over soon, love."

He brought her wrist up to his lips, kissing her pulse point. He wanted to taste her before he killed her. Wanted her blood in his mouth. On his tongue. She smelled like lily of the valley. The sweet woodland scent wafted into his nostrils as he bit down and got the first taste of her.

Her blood was smooth and rich. Her blood had a bitter sweet taste that reminded him of dark chocolate. He could taste her fear as she continued to struggle and tried to scream. Even in her panic she was beautiful. The artist in him could appreciate the scene. The director of a horror film could not have choreographed it better.

As he pulled away from her, he hated her all the more. Even the taste of her blood was something he now coveted. "Were you not so stubborn," a pause, as he licked her blood from his lips, "I could make you something great."

In a different world she could be his greatest creation. He had manipulated. He had fucked. He had trained. He had seen potential in many a witch. But the potential of Bonnie Bennett was something he had never witnessed. It almost pained him to kill her, and all because her loyalty was in the wrong place.

As he finally freed her from his grasp she spat what blood that she had not been forced to swallow at his face. He chuckled darkly as she clutched her wounded wrist to her chest, and forced her body to sit upward. "What the hell do you want from me?" She spat, eyes darting around the room in search of an escape.

She would not scream for her aunt he knew. As much as Klaus respected the woman's artwork, he would kill dear Aunt Bernadette in a minute if she got in his way.

"All I want," he whispered, leaning in until his lips brushed against her face as he spoke, "Is you out of my way."

She moved to make a run for it, but he was on her in seconds. He wrapped his hands around her neck before snapping it violently. Her limp body fell back onto the bed a moment later.

Not bothering to cover his tracks or clean up the blood that now stained the white floral printed sheets, Klaus picked up the witch and carried her toward the window. He would take her to his haunt. Wait for her to wake. Look into her eyes as she did. Then he would laugh as he watched the moment that she realized that she had come back a monster.

:::

Stefan Salvatore had spent majority of his time with Klaus, avoiding the hybrid, binging on blood, and trying not to think about the things he had left behind in Mystic Falls. New Orleans had been a wonderful distraction thus far.

The city was too full of life for him to be bored and to brood. However, his mission tonight had been to search the city for wolves. It had taken some work. He had had to listen into a few conversations. Interrogate a few witches in the quarter.

Things had changed since the last time Stefan had been there. The werewolves were in hiding. The witches no longer freely practiced magic. The city belonged to the vampires now, and was kept under the rule of one. Marcellus Gerard, known simply to most as Marcel.

Stefan had not seen him. He had however, warned Klaus about him, and there was a look of recognition on the hybrids face that told Stefan that he knew the name. There had been pride there as well, though Stefan could not figure out the source of it.

However, Stefan had not really had time to dwell on it. After he had given him the information that he needed, Klaus had thrown two curve balls at Stefan. The first being the memories he had caused to resurface. Memories that had taken place nearly ninety years prior. Memories of himself, Klaus, and Klaus' sister Rebekah. Memories that had blindsided Stefan, but meant very little to him in the long run.

There had been many people in Stefan's past that he regretted. Many things he had done that he was ashamed of. Particularly during his years as a ripper. While he could not feel as much remorse for his actions now that he was back to binging, he also did not feel any particular new closeness toward Klaus as the hybrid had hoped that he would. He just saw Klaus and Rebekah as one more thing in his past that he had lived to regret.

It was the second thing that Klaus had revealed that Stefan found to be disturbing. It had been Bonnie Bennett. The once powerful witch, limp and lifeless. Though, she would wake. When she woke, she would be the very thing that she despised.

Stefan had known one day that being associated with them would bring Bonnie into the path of irrevocable danger. In many ways it already had, starting with her being kidnapped by Annabelle Johnson and ending now with this. It had happened so many times before. The burning of Emily Bennett. The death of Sheila Bennett. But they never changed their ways. Never looked for other resources. Never thought to protect the witches that gave to them time and time again. They had just watched them fall and found someone new.

Even now much of Stefan's remorse had more to do with the fact that Bonnie being turned would hurt Elena. The witch had been at deaths door before and so he could not feel too sorry for her now. Particularly when many times she volunteered herself for it. While he took on most of the responsibility, he gave her some as well. Besides, he reasoned that if she allowed herself to do so she would live.

Stefan watched her, chained to the bed in one of the many rooms in the house that Klaus had rented. Her hair was wild. She still wore her blood stained pajamas. Klaus had gone to wake his sister. It was Stefan's job to tell him when Bonnie was close to waking. He had wanted to be there he said. The moment that she opened her eyes.

Stefan already planned on defying him. Already planned on being the first person that she saw when she awoke. He knew that Klaus was counting on Bonnie to refuse to transition and to die. So he planned to offer her blood. Convince her to live. Tell her that she deserved life. That she could live without her powers. He knew that he owed her at least that much.

:::

Bonnie Bennett's eyes snapped open and she was met with unfamiliar surroundings. The colors in the room were too bright. She was able to make out far too many sights. Able to hear too many sounds. Including another person breathing in the room. Another heartbeat. She turned toward the sound, her movements hindered by the chains holding her arms to the bed.

When she was finally able to meet the eyes of the person who was with her they were the green ones of Stefan Salvatore. "Stefan?" Bonnie frowned, "What's going on? Where am I? Why are you here?"

"We're in one of Klaus' haunts," Stefan said, as he shifted in the chair he had pulled up in front of the bed that Bonnie was on, "Klaus brought you here after he turned you."

"Turned me? What do you mean?" The memories came to her slowly. Waking up from her sleep to the acrid tastes of Klaus' blood. Klaus feeding from her and then snapping her neck. "No," she whispered as the realization hit her. "That doesn't make sense. I can't be…" She could still feel her powers, could still sense her connection to nature. She couldn't be both could she? But Klaus had been aiming to make hybrids. This could not have been what he had planned could it?

"You need to drink blood," Stefan said, as he began to unchain her, "I have a bag here."

Bonnie shook her head. "I won't do it," she said, "I won't be what you are." As the chains fell from her wrists she glared at him. "I would rather die.'

Even as she spoke her throat was raw and dry with the thirst and she could feel the beginnings of the hunger surfacing.

"You can't just give up," Stefan pressed, "You have to live. To survive. This isn't the end of the world. Or at least it doesn't have to be."

Stefan held the blood bag to her and Bonnie blinked at him. He frowned. She didn't seem to be tempted by it at all. He opened it, knowing that the scent should have some effect on her if nothing else did. Still Bonnie stared at him, her eyes hard as she shook the chains away from herself.

"I said no. I don't want it." The scent didn't move her at all and something told her that the blood in the bag wasn't going to calm her thirst if she consumed it. Testing if she could still use her powers, Bonnie concentrated on the blood bag until it caught fire.

Stefan dropped it and leapt away from it as it melted into his hand. He looked up at Bonnie, fear in his eyes. "How in the hell did you do that?"

He knew she was a witch before and so she assumed based on his shock, that she was right. If she was truly a vampire now, then she should not still have her powers.

Before she could process the revelation a scent hit her and her mouth began to water. She looked at Stefan's hand and realized that he had been burned. Blood seeped from the wound and she couldn't help but lick her lips as she caught sight of it.

"Bonnie?" He was wary as her eyes became hungry. A moment later she pounced on him, tackling him to the ground. Fangs pierced the skin of his neck and he could feel as the blood began to drain from his body.

The blood was smooth and honeyed as it flowed down Bonnie's throat and finally the ache in it stopped. When she had had her fill she pulled away from Stefan breathing hard and she stood.

As she turned away from where he lay now unconscious on the ground she caught sight of herself in a nearby mirror. Her eyes had gone from green to a fiery amber. Blood covered her mouth and black veins pulsed beneath her eyes. She looked every bit the monster that she had accused so many of being.

She reached up and touched her blood stained fangs. She heard the sobs that came before she felt them. She lifted the hem of her tank top and frantically wiped the blood from her mouth. This could not be real. This had to be a dream. No a nightmare.

She had to get out of there. She had to find help. If there was help to be found. She turned looking for an escape and she saw the door. But somehow she could feel Klaus….somewhere in the house she was in and if she went through that door she would go to him. Something was telling her to go to him.

Shaking her head again she took a deep breath. Why would she want to go to him? That didn't makes sense. He had been the one to do this to her. Bonnie looked for another way and turned her gaze toward a set of windows just across the room.

Bonnie held out her hands toward the window across the room, concentrating her powers until the glass shattered. She sped toward it a moment later and leapt out of it. She was surprised as she reached the ground below, landing on her feet.

Knowing she would only have one chance to escape while Stefan was out, she ran away from the house, not knowing where she was going and not looking back to see if she was being followed.

:::

Marcel Gerard moved through the city streets of New Orleans in search of the source of the magic that Davina Claire had warned him of, his men flanking either side of him. The Mikaelsons were back in the city. "The old ones," Davina called them.

The witches on the other side talked. Some more than others. He had known for a while now that his former mentor had finally managed to break the hybrid curse. Still he was surprised that his first stop had been New Orleans. He had found out he had come to the city, not to reunite with his former protégé but in search of a novice witch by the name of Bonnie Bennett.

The witches of the quarter knew the Bennett name well and Marcel had had the girl watched for the first few days when she had arrived. He had thought, with the notoriety of the name, and the power Davina had sensed in her, that she would be a threat. She wasn't like the other witches in the city. Her magic was not ancestral, but her own. Were she to aid the other witches, he knew that he would have a problem on his hands.

However, the girl spent most of her time at home. The family that she was staying with was mortal and she herself seemed to be oblivious of the supernatural underbelly of city in which she was staying in temporarily. Marcel, seeing nothing there, had dropped the watch on her. But it seemed that he had done so too soon.

Ever since Klaus had broken the hybrid curse, a witch on the other side had been spreading word like wild fire that he needed to be killed to keep the balance of things in effect. The news was kept among the witches, and it was only Marcel's control over the ones in the quarter that gave him access to the information. The witch was promising all kinds of power and reward to whoever could off he hybrid, the problem was, him being what he was now meant that no one knew how.

There had been rumors of a weapon that could kill an Original but no one had ever seen it. The witches of the quarter were too scared to try and come up with a spell that would help them find it or that would do what the weapon could do were they to have it, because of Marcel's hold over them. Even with the mystery witch on the other side promising their freedom.

As it turned out, according to Davina, Klaus' blood was the issue that was causing the witches on the other side to riot. It wasn't just the matter of him being a hybrid of a wolf and a vampire, no….because he was also born to a woman who had been a witch. He had hit the supernatural trifecta as far as bloodlines went. Born to a witch and werewolf, and one of the first vampires ever to be created. That meant that Klaus could not only combine the werewolf and vampire species, but with his blood and the right spell the wolf and witch species as well. It also meant that were he to turn a witch, she would keep her powers. She would be both a servant of nature and an abomination of one, something that was unheard of.

Marcel knew Klaus well. Knew about his thirst for power. Knew about the many ways in which his identity as a hybrid had made him feel unnatural and alone. He knew that if he found out what his blood could create, that he would think himself a god. That he would turn the supernatural world on its head. The man had always had a thing for witches as it was, as he had always said, "The worse thing about keeping witches is that they're not immortal. Every time I find a good witch I lose her."

It had been the truth, and Klaus had always kept searching. Searching for a new witch to possess. To use. To fuck. To take advantage of. To own. Each time one was lost to him or slipped through his fingers. That was why, if Marcel had been privy to all of the information sooner, he would have kept watching the Bennett girl.

Now it was too late. Klaus had turned a witch from the most powerful line in existence and now Marcel had to find her before Klaus did. Marcel didn't hold any ill will toward Klaus. While there was no love lost between them since the Mikaelsons had fled the city leaving the vampire population to get slaughtered by their father, he wished no harm to come to him. The issue here was that Marcel needed to keep control of the city. He couldn't protect Davina the way he had promised, or his men, if he let it slip through his fingers. Klaus and the Bennett girl were a potential threat to that and it had been Klaus that had taught him that all threats had to be eliminated.

He didn't like the idea of killing an innocent witch whose only crime was coming to visit her family at the wrong time, but Marcel had killed people for less before. The Bennett witch would just have to be collateral damage. Having her would make Klaus an even stronger adversary were he to try and come for the city that had once been his and so in Marcel's eyes the choice was a simple one.

He stopped, gesturing for his men to do the same as the street lights began to flash around them and the wind picked up. He could hear the sound of heavy breathing. Bare feet hitting the concrete as they ran in his direction.

His brown eyes scanned the streets and he and his men positioned themselves to attack. However, he froze as the witch came into view, surprised by what he saw.

This was no hybrid monster poised to help Klaus overthrow his kingdom if he so chose. This was a girl. Probably only a couple of years older than Davina, if that. She was scared. No terrified. As she ran, her eyes darted around in search of help or shelter. Her hair was wild and she wore nothing but ripped bloodied pajamas and he knew that whatever was going on Klaus hadn't gotten to her yet.

He had seen signs, of Klaus' control. He had been victim of it. He had seen what it had done to the Mikaelson siblings, the things and the people that it forced them to allow Klaus to take from them. All in the name of family. All in the name of loyalty. The problem was the things that Klaus expected from the people around him were hardly ever returned. He was always too busy trying to control things. To own things. To force things. While Klaus had taught Marcel many things, he had learned on his own something that Klaus would never know.

True trust, and true loyalty, was bred from respect, from love. And even though Marcel wasn't beyond using force, those who were loyal to him and that he was loyal to knew that through other means more often than not. He forced the witches' hands to protect Davina, and he thought about her now as the Bennett witch stopped running as she reached him. He knew as the girl's green eyes met his, that he would be taking another young witch into his fold. If Klaus hadn't gotten to her yet, then there was hope.

His men moved to attack and he barked an order to stop them as the girl moved to do the same. He had expected her to run at the sight of five vampires but she stood up straight, her bare feet digging into the ground as her hand came up in warning. She was a fighter. That was good. She would need to be.

"I know who sent you," she said, as she eyed them, "Just let me go and I won't have to hurt you." She was clearly tired, but he saw the moment her eyes flashed an odd amber color, the orange hue reminding him of fire and he took a step back.

Under different circumstances Marcel might have laughed at the fact that he was being undermined by a teenage girl. But she was no ordinary girl. And though she was still a baby vamp, she also had her powers and it was clear even being the novice that she was she was ready to use them. "I know who you are Bonnie," he said, carefully, "And I know who you think sent me. But I'm not here to help Klaus." Something passed over her face as he said his former mentor's name that was akin to longing and he thought maybe he was wrong about getting to her before Klaus had.

"Well, I don't know you and you know me. You also know Klaus so he must have told you who I am. Sent you to bring me back to him," she reasoned.

"I know Klaus because he used to have control of this city a while back," Marcel explained, careful to leave out that Klaus was once his friend, "The city belongs to me now. And as for how I know you. Well…who doesn't know the name Bennett?"

The fight was slowly slipping out of her, he could tell, but she stood her ground. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"My name is Marcel Gerard and I just want to help you," Marcel told her, "Take you somewhere safe." He noted as she shivered and he frowned. He slowly removed the suede jacket he was wearing, carefully so that he wouldn't startle her. He held it out to her in offering.

His men took the turn of events in stride. They trusted him and so they trusted his judgment. He wasn't surprised as Theirry moved forward, taking off the skull cap he was wearing and offered it up to her as well.

The girl seemed skittish and wary. "You really just want to help me?" She was desperately searching his face. She must have found what she was looking for as he nodded, because the next moment she was taking the jacket from his hands and wrapping it around herself. She took the hat as well. It wasn't a particularly cold night but she was barely dressed and he could tell that the cold was coming from somewhere much deeper than the wind blowing around them.

He held out his hand to her and she stared at a moment. Just as she reached out to take it, she stopped, shaking her head. She was holding her head a moment later, falling to her knees. Marcel knelt down next to her, unsure as to what had happened, until she spoke. "He's in my head," she whispered, tears springing into her eyes, "he keeps calling me. He won't stop. He's worried about me. I have to go to him…..But I can't….I can't….." She began to beat her fist against her head and rock back and forth. "He did this to me," she shook as Marcel grabbed her wrists, "He's a monster. I want to hate him. But his blood, I can feel it in my blood. He's angry. He wants me home. He knows I'm in pain. He doesn't want me in pain…."

"Shit," he heard Theirry mutter behind him. That was his sentiments exactly. Not only had Klaus managed to create the first vampire and witch hybrid, but the poor girl was trapped in sire bond as well. She was already beginning to feel Klaus' emotions and she had just been turned. It would only get worse. And if what she was saying was any indication, the bond wasn't one sided. Klaus could feel her too. So no matter where Marcel took her, he would find her.

Even after making the realization Marcel tried to calm her. He rubbed soothing circles on her back until Klaus' voice subsided from her head. "It's okay," he murmured, "I've got you." He had her for now but he would not have her for long.

:::

Rebekah Mikaelson sat down in the study that the sandy haired male vampire had shown her into and waited. She could still remember the time that she and her family had spent in this house and the city. When it had been there's, and now apparently, it was Marcellus Gerard's.

Rebekah had only been awake a few hours. Had barely been able to put on some period appropriate clothes and already she was acting as a go between for her brother and her former lover.

She had woken up to her brother and Stefan's faces and she had allowed herself to hope. But she could read Stefan like the back of her own hand and she knew the moment she looked at him that her brother's actions had lost her someone else. How many loves had it been now? How many years had she lost because she had spent them daggered in her coffin? But still she allowed Klaus to control her.

She had listened intently as he caught her up on his situation because he had told her to pay attention and be quiet when she had demanded to know where they were and why he had waited so long to wake her. She had not asked questions about her siblings because he told her not to. She had not tried to appeal to Stefan because he told her that there was no time in which to do so. She had put on the outfit that he had picked for her and she had walked through the city that was now unfamiliar to her to meet with Marcel to negotiate the release of a witch hybrid that she did not know or care about because Marcel had asked for her and Klaus refused to lose the witch, and especially not to him.

And that was what mattered in the end. Nik's losses. Nik's pain. Nik's suffering. Nik's wants. Nik's methodology. Damn everyone else.

Rebekah stiffened, coming out of her thoughts as the door to the study opened. She forced herself to face forward and wait until Marcel walked around to the other side of the desk that she was sitting behind. He was another loss she had faced due to her brother's choices and her own cowardice.

He looked much the same. Tall, brown skin, muscular build, deep rich eyes that seemed to look right through her. This didn't surprise her, being what they were, they didn't really change in appearance. It was their insides that changed over time. That morphed and bended due to experience. And he had changed, she could tell. Just the way that he looked at her, with less awe and longing than before, could attest to that.

"Where is the witch?" Rebekah asked. She didn't want to get into anything else, just what she had come there for.

"After all this time that's the reception I get," a smile and then a laugh, "I know you just woke up but I would think you would be at least a little happy to see me. After you fled town to escape your father, you must have thought I would have died right?"

"We did what we had to in order to survive," Rebekah said, looking away from his accusing gaze.

"No," Marcel countered, shaking his head, "You did what your brother told you to. Which is what you always do. Which is why you're here. Am I right?"

"It's not as if I have a choice," she spat, turning back to him, "If I cross him then I end up in a coffin. But you know that already."

"There's always a choice Rebekah," Marcel stood, and walked around the desk, sitting down in front of her on the edge it, "I'm going to give you one right now. The girl is upstairs. She isn't just the witch. Her name is Bonnie. She told me her story. The only thing she did to get herself where she is right now is stand up to your brother to protect the people she cares about. That's it. The sad thing is, those people aren't here now and I'm not sure they would be even if they could be because she won't let me contact them because she is protecting them even now. So I promised her I would protect her."

Rebekah frowned as she looked up at him. "Why?" she asked, "So you can beat Nik to the punch and take advantage of her powers before he can so you can keep your precious city? Nik doesn't want the city. He has bigger plans than that. And you should know if you want to use her you'll have a hard time because she's sired to him. He is feeling the effects of the bond even now, that's why he's pissed. He sent me here as a warning-"

"I know about the bond," Marcel interrupted, "I want to help her because she doesn't deserve this. She's just a girl who lost everything in one night for doing the right thing. For not being a coward. Now you have a chance to do the right thing and help me help her." He reached out and took her hands in his. "I know that I'll have to send her back to him," he sighed, "There isn't a way around that. He'll break her. He'll control her and she won't know how to fight him. Not unless we teach her. These bonds….we know how they work. We may not be able to break it, only Klaus can do that and he won't. But you and I both know that these things go both ways. If we teach her how to use this to her advantage then she will have a fighting chance."

"Why would I help her?" Rebekah asked, snatching her hands away, "Why would I go against my own brother for someone I don't even know?"

"Because," Marcel shrugged, "Maybe if you help her then you can learn to help yourself. Your father is still a threat. I get that. But if you think the controlling will stop once Klaus has his army then you're wrong. If you think it will stop with Mikael's death then you're wrong. Klaus will have power over you as long as you allow it. How much more are you going to let him take from you, Rebekah?"

She was silent as she looked away and considered his words. She knew he was right, but he didn't understand how hard it was to break the cycle. Klaus was like family to him at one time, but she was Nik's blood. His sister, and he was her constant. But did that mean she should continuously allow herself to be victimized by him? "We'll have to be careful about this," she said, after a moment.

Marcel smiled and nodded. "I'm always careful."

He called to one of his men instructing them to bring Bonnie down to them. As they left to do his bidding, he turned back to Rebekah. "I better not regret this," she said.

"You won't," he assured her, though he wasn't so sure himself. His attention was caught a moment later as the door opened and Bonnie walked in. She had showered and had borrowed some of Davina's clothes. She didn't look too worse for wear.

He smiled a little as he studied her. It was clear to him that Klaus still had a type. And it wasn't just witches. It had to be a particular kind of witch. And if Marcel remembered correctly, Niklaus hadn't been the only Original brother who had found witches to be interesting.

"Who is she?" Bonnie asked, eyeing Rebekah, and breaking Marcel out of his thoughts.

"This is Rebekah," Marcel introduced carefully, "She's Klaus' sister."

Bonnie frowned and took a step back. "You said that you would help me," she glared at him, "You promised. Now you're just going to ship me back to him?"

Marcel opened his mouth to defend himself but Rebekah spoke first. "No," she said, "He's not. In fact he's the only reason why I came and not my brother. If Nik had come you would have been dragged out of here by now." The girl just blinked at her and Rebekah sighed. "Marcel came to me because even though Nik and I are similar in temper I am much more reasonable than my brother and I understand what it is like to be under his control," she explained, "He's asked me to help you and I've agreed. But you have to cooperate and you have to do exactly what we say."

Bonnie looked between them both, her eyes full of suspicion and her emotions in turmoil. Everything was heightened and consuming and it was hard for her to concentrate being what she now was. The thing that overshadowed everything was the mixture of feelings that were growing and stirring in her regarding Klaus and she wanted it to be over. But she didn't like her odds if she was going to have rely on another Original.

"We can't break the connection," Rebekah said, eyeing the girl, "But we can navigate around it. Use it to your advantage." She reminded Rebekah of so many others that Nik had taken before her. But there was something different about her. Something that Rebekah couldn't but her finger on.

"Why the hell should I trust you?" Bonnie asked.

And there is was. The fight. Rebekah could see it in her eyes even now. She had put up a fight against him and that was likely why Nik found her so much of a draw in the first place. If anyone could circumvent the sired bond, Rebekah thought that it might be this one. "I don't really see that you have a choice," Rebekah finally answered her.

Bonnie still looked doubtful. Rebekah raised an eyebrow as Marcel stepped forward and placed his hands on the girl's shoulders. "I told you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you if I could help it and I mean that," Marcel said, "We just need you to play the game for a little while and we're going to guide you through it."

Rebekah watched as the girl finally nodded. She recognized the look in her eyes, she had seen it many times in herself. It was desperation.

"This bond between me and Klaus," Bonnie said, "What is it? What does it mean?" She had been plagued by hearing his voice all night and his emotions were invading her own. No one had explained it to her as of yet outside of giving the bond a name. Theirry had let it slip however, that it would likely get worse rather than better over time.

"It is a bond that sometimes forms between maker and vampire," Rebekah said, quietly, "Made stronger if there is blood sharing involved." She noted the moment the girl winced, and knew that Nik had tasted her before he had turned her. "No one really knows why it happens. Most attribute it to a compatibility of power. Some a connection formed by feelings that existed prior to the transition. And very few to an intermingling of the souls. Whatever the case, it has a profound effect on both maker and progeny."

Bonnie frowned. "So Klaus can feel it to," she asked.

"Not only that," Marcel said, "But you have almost as much power over him as he has over you. You're both hybrids so there are things that might come up that we don't expect or aren't prepared for but as it stands right now we're going to treat this like any other bond of the same nature."

Bonnie didn't know anything about any of this. As much as she had done for vampires over the past couple of years she knew next to nothing about them outside of what they could do and their need for blood as means of survival. Then again, she didn't know all that much about her kind either. Her lack of knowledge would be her undoing and so she knew that Klaus' sister was right. She had no choice but to trust them. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go to him tonight," Rebekah said, "Go along with what he says for now. He needs to feel like he's won. He needs to think he's in control or things will only get worse for you. If we are going to exercise the pull you have on him we have to do it slowly and subtly or it will never work."

"What about my aunt?" Bonnie asked, "My family here. I can keep my friends in the dark for now. He'll go after them if I don't. But if my aunt wakes up tomorrow and I'm not there and she sees the blood…"

"I took care of it already," Marcel said, "Sent some of my men to clean up the mess and collect a few of your things. Some clothes. Your grimiores. Your laptop. Your cell phone. You can call her and tell her whatever you want. Just make sure it'll buy you some time. It wouldn't be safe for you to be around her right now anyway. You might attack her."

Bonnie shook her head. "Human blood doesn't seem to appeal to me," she said, scratching her throat, even now it was hard to control her thirst, "I think it's because I still have my powers. I was meant to protect them not harm them."

"So it's true," Rebekah said, "What Stefan said about you attacking him?"

Bonnie nodded. She thought that there would be fear at the revelation but they both just looked at her curiously as if she were a puzzle they were trying to solve.

"I have more than enough vampires at my disposal," Marcel said after a moment, "Many who want to earn daylight rings. I can compel some of the staff at the hospital down the street to draw some blood from them and send the bags over to you in the morning."

"You'd do that?" Bonnie asked, her eyes widening in surprise. The vampires that she had known for much longer wouldn't have even gone to that kind of trouble for her and she and Marcel had just met. She wondered if this was just how Marcel was or if it was because she was vampire of sorts now and if she should expect for other vampires to treat her differently because of it.

"I told you I would help you," he glanced between Rebekah and Bonnie, then back again, "I'm not someone who breaks promises."

"Thank you," Bonnie whispered, feeling hope since the first time she had woken up a monster.

:::

Niklaus Mikaelson lifted his glass of bourbon in salute to Stefan Salvatore as the vampire sat down across from him. He smiled in amusement as Stefan glared at him. Things were going even better than he had expected them to go.

He had wanted to get the witch out of his way. He had wanted to watch her suffer. He had mourned her wasted potential. But she had become in just a few hours, his greatest accomplishment.

She would still suffer and yet because of the bond that would grow between them she would not harm him or act against him. He would not have to mourn her loss of potential because he now had the opportunity to recreate her. Now that she was both witch and vampire he would no longer have to worry about the mortality of the witch in his arsenal. And because of her existence he now knew that he was not a monster but a miracle. The key to combining the existing supernatural species. The greatest supernatural entity to ever exist.

"How's your neck?" Klaus asked, as Stefan poured himself a drink.

Stefan ignored the question. "Is Rebekah back with Bonnie yet?" he asked. When Klaus shook his head he took a sip from his own glass. "Do you really think Bonnie is just going to roll over and not fight this?"

"She'll try," Klaus laughed, "But it won't matter in the end. I never intended for this to happen but now that it has I couldn't be more pleased." He would use the bond to his advantage in every way imaginable and he would enjoy every moment of it. "She is my progeny. Blood of my blood. I am her maker. Her originator. Her ruler. She is of my creation and so she will never escape me."

Stefan responded but Klaus didn't hear him as he suddenly felt Bonnie's presence. She was close. She had not even made it inside of his haunt yet but he could sense her just as easily as if she were already standing next to him. Her emotions were in turmoil and they bombarded him the closer that she came to him.

He set down his glass and stood. Listened to her footsteps as she walked through the house and came closer to the room that he was in. He had been calling to her on and off for some time. Almost the moment he had felt the stirrings of the bond and realized that it was there. She had managed to resist him for a while but he knew that she would come to him now. She would turn herself over to him and he would not let her escape him again.

"Get out," he said, to Stefan, without looking at him. His eyes were on the door to the room. He was waiting for his witch to walk through it.

Stefan stood and left the room and Bonnie entered a moment later. She was much more put together than when she had left but she still looked angry and apprehensive as she closed the door behind her. "Klaus," she nodded, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, hands playing with hem of the white dress that she was wearing.

She was trying to ignore the pull she felt toward him he knew. However, he was of no such mind to allow her to do so. "Come here," he said. Her hands clenched into fists but still she walked forward. She stopped in front of him, though not close enough for his liking. "Closer."

Bonnie looked him in the eyes, her own gaze hard. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I can," he beckoned her with his index finger, "Now come closer." She moved closer to him and stopped just as she was about to bump into him.

Bonnie cringed as he leaned down and inhaled her sweet flowery scent. "I'll do what you want," Bonnie said, "As much as the thought of hurting you pleased me before I can't fight you physically now because this thing….whatever it is making me feel the opposite. But if you try to hurt me or anyone I care about I will run."

The bond didn't allow him to hurt her either, though her friends were not off limits. Still seeing her in physical or emotional distress would bring him a certain degree of discomfort. But he could handle that. And he wouldn't tell her that. Instead he reached out and brushed her hair over her shoulder and leaned down so that he could speak into her ear. "The painful part is over now," he whispered, "You're mine and I'm going to take such good care of you."