siren • km ✔️

XXV - 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱

(edited)

"KLAUS, I'M HERE! LET'S DO THIS."

"And so the cowardly killer shows his face," Lilura said, stretching her arms and getting up from the comfortable chair in the Mikaelson Manor study. 

"What a pig," Klaus supplied without hesitance. "I suppose it's a good thing we're the wolves."

Rebekah joined them inside the living/tortue room with malicious frown. She cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms, staring at Stefan Salvatore . "Oh good, a hero. What do you want?"

Stefan dropped a black dufflebag, clanking whatever was within into a metallic cacophony. The siren and Klaus winced, exchanging irritated looks when Stefan didn't bother to apologize.

"I'm here to make a deal," He declared.

"Stefan, what are you doing?" Damon groaned, easing his head the slightest bit to look at his brother, eyebrows pulled together at the other's cheerless smile. He was still strapped to the ceiling, blood running down his face, chest, and arms due to Rebekah's unique torture methods. He arched his eyebrow lazily as if the gory sight was something that happened to him daily.

Stefan shrugged and said shortly.  "Eight stakes made of white oak. The part of Wickery Bridge that you forgot to burn."

The Hybrid held back a laugh. Lilura smiled. 

"That's impossible," Klaus said.

"Actually it's not. Finn is dead," Stefan replied vacantly, glassy eyes retracing the designs on the Mikaelson Manor wall.

Rebekah's eyes blazed ice fire. "You killed my brother?"

The blond Salvatore didn't even spare his old lover a glance. "Damon in exchanged for the last eight weapons that can kill you," He gestured to the duffel bag. 

"But how do we know there aren't any more left?" Lilura voiced suddenly, staring mistrustfully at the blond Salvatore. 

One moment of silence, which transpired uneasily between the two parties, left Lilura even more certain of the fib.

"Because there aren't," Stefan finally muttered.

Lilura raised her eyebrows. "And we're supposed to believe that blatant lie?"

Klaus grinned, "Let's be certain, shall we?" He walked over to Damon. "Leave."

"No," The raven haired vampire said through clenched teeth.

"Go on. Leave."

Rebekah exhaled loudly and crossed her arms, "Nik, he's my plaything not yours."

Klaus flashed her an insolent smirk and then grabbed Damon's neck, pupils dilating in preparation for the compulsion.

"I said," He repeated, "go home."