Dispersora | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 8

If Tyler wasn't already dead, Klaus would've killed him.

"Well, good riddance, I say," Rebekah exclaimed. "Attacking a pregnant woman with a wolf bite to test a witch's theory... I suppose we've learned our lesson about killing people's mothers, haven't we?"

Klaus scowled. "He deserved it." He stopped himself from saying more as Yara shot him a glare.

"It's concerning to me that a witch of any kind is having premonitions about this baby," muttered Yara. "I don't know where he was when he heard this, but we can assume it wasn't close by. News has spread and we need to be prepared for it. I take it there are a lot of people who would try to prevent this. Conservative witches, concerned wolves and vampires. All of our names inspire the opposite of comfort."

The hybrid rolled his eyes, "I'll kill anyone who comes wanting to test ridiculous theories and spout absurd premonitions in our faces. Had the baby not healed your bite, there is no telling what they might've done."

The door burst open. Marcel skidded in, sinking down in front of Yara. "Are you okay?"

"I am now," she said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "Klaus gave me a little bit of his blood. I'm fully healed."

"What the hell happened?"

"Seems the baby can turn werewolves into hybrids. I killed the two that came after me. Apparently he's convinced Klaus was going to use this to build an army."

No one spoke for a minute, which made Klaus huff, offended.

"And of course you assume it's true," he said, hurt. "I mean, why else would I show interest in my own flesh and blood?"

"Nobody said that," replied Yara. "I for one don't believe it. Your last batch of hybrids seems to have met their end in a very gruesome manner. And I don't think you capable of exploiting this child like that."

He continued with a sour expression throughout the rest of the day, apparently convinced that Rebekah and Elijah had doubts they didn't voice. Marcel didn't get involved; as long as Yara was safe, nothing else mattered.

It wasn't pleasant to be confined in the Compound, but they tried to make it enjoyable for her. Rebekah had extended her stay, promising Yara that she'd keep her safe if anyone else arrived and attempted to hurt her or the baby. Elijah had acquired a room full of new books for her to read. Marcel kept her company the most, introducing her to his closest vampire friends. She rather liked hearing his pal, Thierry, play the trumpet.

"Oh, I still remember when you wished to learn how to play the trumpet," said Yara as Marcel leaned onto her, letting her caress his arm. "You were, forgive me, terrible at it. And you didn't practice because it was too loud. You might've become very good at it."

"Eh, maybe. I like what I have going on now. I got some vocal lessons a few decades back and really worked on singing while playing the piano. I've gotten good at it. Always makes for a fun karaoke night."

"My talented boy," she said, squeezing his shoulder. She raised her arms to clap for Thierry as he finished playing. "Very good! I can only imagine what you'll be able to do with another few centuries of practice."

Thierry feigned offense. "What, seventy years isn't enough for you?"

She grinned. "If you're this good at seventy, think of how it might be if the trumpet evolves in the future! I reckon in another hundred years, you'll be able to play all brass instruments that well."

"What about you? What do you play?"

"The piano, mostly. I sing, too, and dance. I never really learned to play woodwind or brass instruments. A few strings, violin, cello, harp."