The Library

Title: The Library
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandoms: Twilight Saga / Vampire Diaries
Pairing: Bella Swan/Klaus
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: We don’t like Edward, Cold Ones, Soulmates, Original Witches, Mentions of Sex, Umm… Klaus is a good guy (really?)
Prompt: for HappyScrumptiously who wanted Bella/Klaus

The Library

Niklaus didn’t know why, but Seattle boasted one of the largest Supernatural libraries in the country.  He was still uncertain what role the Doppleganger would fully play in the ritual that would unlock his werewolf nature, so he decided to go there and find out.  There was this one particular book he needed—

When he applied to the librarian, she smiled at him.  “The Orphan has it.”

“The Orphan?”

“We don’t know her name,” she admitted, stepping away from the Reference desk toward the stacks.  “We assume she’s from the local orphanage.  She comes on foot and all of her—things—are beaten up.  The girl’s polite, quiet, and has a keen interest for the supernatural.  I’ve never seen it in one so young.  She’s been here the last few weeks.  She’s been particularly interested in the Native American legends, though not exclusively.”

She led Niklaus down a row of books and then paused at a table.  There he saw the most enchanting creature he had come across in his one thousand years of life.  She had mahogany hair with lighter brown highlights that went down past her shoulders, naturally pink lips, brown eyes, distinct cheekbones, and a long face.  The girl was wearing a thin nondescript brown shirt, but it didn’t matter.  Niklaus wanted her in his bed, underneath him, and he couldn’t bear the thought of drinking from her.

“Thank you,” he murmured, approaching the table. 

It took the girl a few moments to realize he was standing over her.

Hesitantly, she looked up and brushed her exquisite hair behind her ear.  “Er—yes?” she asked.

“I understand we have a common interest,” he murmured as he took a seat next to her.  She was at the head of the table, with several books piled to her left, so he sat at her right.  The girl had a neat notebook beside her with a pen where she was clearly taking notes on—Niklaus slyly glanced on it.  Cold Ones.  She was interested in Cold Ones.

She paused for several moments.  “I’m looking at vampires,” she admitted.

“Are you currently looking at Tanz der Vampire?” he all but purred.

It didn’t seem to affect her.  “I certainly hope not.  I wouldn’t be able to read it without a dictionary.”  She went through her pile and, after about a minute, pulled it from the stack and gave it to him. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, letting the words caress over her in the hope she’d find it alluring, but she gave him a short nod of the head before going back to her work.

Niklaus looked at her for a long moment before opening his own book.  The words blurred on the page until he realized that a text Elijah had written had been transposed into German and placed within these pages.  Absolutely worthless.  He closed the book in disappointment.  He looked up to see brown eyes looking at him behind mahogany hair.  Niklaus smiled at her.

“Not what you were looking for?”

“Not quite,” he answered.  “I’ve read part of the book before.”

“Yes,” she agreed.  “I’ve had that trouble, too.  The same exact legend with almost identical wording again—and again—and again.”  The Orphan looked down at her pile of books with distaste.  “Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.  No matter what I try to do, he will be waiting out there to give me a lift, exactly as legends describe him, and I’m just a mouse caught in his trap.  All the while he’ll go on about how dangerous he is and how I should stay away from him.  He’s the most peculiar—person—I’ve ever met.”

Niklaus leaned forward.  “Are you saying, love,” he murmured so no one around them could hear them.  “That you’re being stalked by something,” he pressed his finger lightly to the pile of manuscripts in front of her, “in these books.”

“You think I’m crazy,” she sulked.

“No,” he disagreed coolly.  “I don’t think you’re crazy at all, and judging by your notes, you’re being stalked by a Cold One.  Right.  Where does he pick you up?  When?”

“Oh,” she murmured, “About two, at the front.  Somehow he manages to get my truck home.”

“Of course he does,” Niklaus sighed.  “Well, it’s just past noon now, and I fancy a bite of something to eat.  Let’s see if we can draw this Cold One out a bit, and at worse we can get you some lunch.”  He looked down at her adoringly.  “I’m Klaus.”

“Klaus,” she repeated.  “Bella.”  She tossed her hair a bit.  “Isabella.  I don’t much like it.”

“I like it for you,” he murmured, coming up to her and, carefully, resting his hand on her cheek.  “Let me like it for you.”  His eyes dilated and she looked into his gaze before shaking her head.

“I—” she murmured.  “Is ‘Klaus’ short for anything?”

“That’s the mystery, isn’t it, love?” he asked, a little surprised that she was all the way out in Washington, where he didn’t know of any witches, and yet had broken his hold on her.  There were only, it appeared, Cold Ones, and vervain was useless against their talents.  “Lunch.  Your choice.”

“Not pizza or fish,” she begged, causing him to laugh.  “No, really, that’s all we eat at home.”

He took her to Chinese.  He had fun watching her eat with chopsticks.  She was so terribly human, so terribly lovely.  He wanted to see this young human in his bed, hold her at the top of the Eiffel Tower as he pointed out the sights with her, run with the bulls, twist along the Great Wall of China, feed with her and watch as her face was splattered with blood—

Niklaus had never considered taking a mistress before.  His pleasures had always been short lived and soon forgotten.  Still, looking over his miso soup at this girl, he remembered what it was like to be human and to love another.  It was a strange memory, so long ago, and yet here with Isabella—well, he was about to get into a turf war over her.

“Cold Ones aren’t vampires,” he told her carefully.  “One bite from them and their venom infects your heart.  You die and are turned into them.  Their skin is hard and sparkles in the sunlight.  Some have gifts—strength, foresight, telekinesis—and they are ruled ruthlessly by three kings in Italy.  They are as cold as ice; some say their hearts are as cold as ice.  Your Cold One seems to be playing with you.”

“How do you know—?”

“I’m not human, love,” he told her simply.  “It’s best to know the other races.”  Niklaus picked up his large, flat spoon and took another sip of his soup.

Bella was staring at him.  After a long moment, she set down her spoon and sat back.  “You look as human as the rest of us,” she murmured.  “Edward and his family don’t.”

“Of course they don’t.  They probably have enhanced physical features to draw you in as prey and skin paler than white, which not even cosmetics could help.  Am I correct?  Not to mention their eyes.”

“It’s odd when they turn black,” she admitted.

“Never mind red,” he agreed.

She started.  “They’re never red.  They’re golden.”

Niklaus looked at her.  “Oh, I see.  Is their name Denali or Cullen?”

“Um—yes.”

He smirked.  “They call themselves vegetarians.  They only eat animals.  Useless, if you ask me.  However, I’m a different species all together.  I cannot comment on their morals or habits, only how I view them.”  Of course, this wasn’t the truth, but Bella was so delicate, taking it all in.  She was being stalked by a Cold One.  It was a miracle she wasn’t hysterical.

She had pluck.  Bella certainly had pluck.  And he liked her all the more for it.

He walked out of the library with her at two o’clock.  She had to be home by five and it took her three hours to get there, the way she drove (according to the speed limit; the way Edward drove, it took closer to two). 

“Do you see it?” he asked as Bella looked around to try to locate her truck.

Her shoulders slumped.  “No,” she murmured.  She pointed toward a row.  “It was right there.”

“I’ll take you home,” he promised.  “I’m not finding what I needed in the library.  I can always come back tomorrow.”  He ran a hand up and down her back and she leaned against him. 

“I don’t even know what you are,” she breathed, and then they both noticed a Cold One approaching.

He was certainly good looking, for a teenager.  This Cold One was unfinished, despite his chiseled jaw and golden eyes and brown-gold hair that was spiked up.  He didn’t look like a man.  He was stuck perpetually in the body of a teenager.

If Niklaus turned Bella now, it wouldn’t be the same.  Females were considered women traditionally by the age of fifteen, and she was certainly older than that.  She was finished, complete, beautiful.

A growl pulled him out of his thoughts, but Niklaus couldn’t have that.  He reacted, and the next second he had this Edward by his throat.  “Intriguing,” he murmured.  “I would suggest you not attack your betters—Edward, is it?  You will not find the outcome favorable.”  He squeezed his fingers and felt his solid stone neck crack before he released him, the Cold One falling to the pavement, grabbing his throat.

Bella was standing a short bit away, her hands over her mouth in shock, her eyes wide.  “You—and he—and—”  She swallowed. 

Niklaus offered Bella his hand and she took it.  Stepping over Edward he took her to his car, which was a black Lamborghini, with doors that swung up instead of out.  Bella stared at it for a moment, before stepping inside with her frayed backpack.  He was going to have to do something about that. 

“From the frying pan into the fire,” Bella muttered as he drove past Edward, barely missing driving over his head.  If only he had the audacity to do it in front of Bella.  It wouldn’t hurt the Cold One, honestly.  He just didn’t want to traumatize Bella anymore than he had to.

Ignoring her, he asked, “Where to?”  He was looking at his GPS.

“Forks,” she responded.  “It’s past Port Angeles.  Er—Sorry.  I know it’s a bit of a ways.”

He looked over at her and smiled.  “I signed up for this, love.  I’m more than happy to oblige.  I’ll just catch a hotel for the night.  Do some hunting.”

Bella raised her eyebrows at him.  “Hunting?”

“I don’t kill my victims, Isabella,” he told her carefully.  “They enjoy it and they forget it within a few minutes.—I would never use you as food.”

“You—eat humans?”

This was the moment that they had been circling around.  He had told her that Edward was a Cold One, which she knew, but that he wasn’t a real vampire.  She knew that Niklaus wasn’t human.  “I’m a vampire, love,” he told her.  “An actual vampire.”

She turned in her seat to look at him.  “It’s the daytime.  It’s terribly cloudy, but—”

“I’m old, love,” he told her.  “The older we get, the more those nice little facts you know about us don’t apply.”

“Okay,” she murmured.  “Stake to the heart.”

“Generally true but not to me.  It will incapacitate me for a little while.”

“Crosses,” she stated in excitement.

He smiled at her, the corner of one lip lifting up.  “Pure myth.”

“Garlic.”

“I like Italian,” he assured her.

“Inviting someone into their house.”

He paused.  “I’m afraid that’s quite real.  I was hoping you’d let me into yours—just so I can check the perimeter.”

Bella was silent for several moments.  “I woke up one night about a week ago,” she admitted.  “I saw Edward.  He looked terrified, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  I turned to turn on my light, and when I looked back he was gone.”

“We can try to fix that,” Niklaus promised, reaching out and squeezing her hand.  “Isabella, I would never hurt you.  I’ve known that since the moment I saw you.”

“Why?” she asked.

That was certainly a good question.  The frightening answer passed through his head, but he’d have to go and research it a bit tomorrow.  “Allow me some more time with those books of ours,” he told her, looking over at her.  Finn had claimed Sage was his mate and, well, Elijah fell in love every few hundred of years… It was something to certainly think about.  Then again, there was Rebecca with Marcel and then the Ripper.  He didn’t like to think of his little sister as in love or sexually active.  It was too disturbing.

She breathed out.  “I want to show you something.”

He looked over at her.

“I can’t—here—I’m not going to compromise my seatbelt given how quickly we’re going—but in my room.  Just tell me: What is your name?  I’ll tell you mine.”

“I can easily get into your wallet,” he told her dryly.

“Fine,” she snapped.  “Isabella Marie Swan.  My mother is actually my stepmom.  On the night of my dad’s stag party he met a woman named Marie and she had a name written on her back.  When she heard Charlie’s name—my dad’s name—she got him drunk and seduced him.  She had me nine months later and dropped me off on his doorstep.  Mom insisted on DNA testing and took me with her when they got divorced a year later.  I think it was her way of getting back at Charlie.  She never wanted me.  I cooked for her, I cleaned for her, I dealt with the finances.  You get the picture.  The woman’s name was Marie.  Charlie’s mother’s name was Isabel.”

He paused, “She had a name written on her back.”  He had only heard of older lines of witches having names imprinted on their skins.

“What’s your name?” Bella asked again.

Niklaus paused.

“It says ‘Klaus’, doesn’t it?”

“It says ‘Niklaus’,” she responded.  “You’re the closest I’ve gotten.  You know how rare that name is.  What’s your name, Klaus?”

“Niklaus,” he answered after a pause.  He then was silent for several long moments, considering.  She waited for him.  “Mikaelson.”

Bella nodded.  “I have something to show you.”

“Shit,” he murmured.  Niklaus looked over to her.  “Your father married a woman other than his soulmate.  Your mother should have done everything she could have done to stop that wedding.”

“Maybe she did?” Bella wondered.  “I don’t know.  I wasn’t inside her head.  The marriage was obviously doomed, or I doomed it with my very existence.”  She turned silent and contemplating and Niklaus took her hand and then swerved off the road suddenly, his tires screeching. 

He undid her seatbelt and demanded, “Show me.”

Looking at him, Bella turned her back to him and took off her long sleeved purple tee, to show a tattoo along her spine that clearly spelled out his name in gothic lettering.  He unstrapped her bra to get a closer look.  Running his hand along the tattoo, he breathed out, before helping her dress again. 

She sat back in her chair and ran her hand through her hair.

“How old are you, Isabella?” he asked her.

“Seventeen.  How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” he responded.  “I want to turn you as quickly as possible.”

She swallowed.  “People are going missing right now.  I suppose you can take me to Seattle and do it there.  Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Yes,” he told her, grasping the side of her face gently, forcing her to look at her.  “My name is tattooed on your back.  That is old magic.  I remember when my mother invented it.  She was the Original Witch.”

Bella blinked, clearly startled, but she didn’t question it.  “Does that mean we’ll fall in love?”

He leaned over to her and hovered in front of her lips, seeking permission.  He would have her come to him.  After a few moments, she closed the distance, and it felt amazing, like that little piece of himself that was missing, separate from his vampiric side, separate from his trapped werewolf, a piece of himself he didn’t even know was there, was suddenly present.

She licked her lips, her eyes closed, and hummed.  “Yes, I see.”

“Come to me.  Now.  We won’t go to Forks.  We’ll just turn around and leave now.  Hopefully Edward will be blamed.”

Bella blinked and considered.  Then, carefully, she nodded.

Niklaus looked at her and then nodded.  “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

“How could I regret this?” she whispered, as he put his car in reverse and began to make a u-turn in the road.  “I have your name tattooed on my back.  I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”

Niklaus looked over at her and smiled at himself.  With Bella by his side, he was sure he could accomplish anything.  He would be stronger with her.  He would be fearless with her.  She had been made for him.  And with her, together, they would be unstoppable.

The End.