Vulnerable § Klaus Mikaelson

42

edited chapter

Chapter 42: Bad Blood

{D. K}

Dakota wasn't sure how many hours had passed, days maybe, a week, but she didn't care. The alcohol that was coursing through her veins was so intense that her body was numb. The upbeat music vibrated against her feet and rattled her bones. A dozen or so empty bottles of liquor was lined up bowling style on the bar table before her.

       "Maybe I should cut you off now." The bartender that had been serving her all night—or whatever time of day it was—with weary eyes and hesitant hands said. Since she was a paying customer, he continued, but when an uncomfortable feeling passed over him, he decided it was time to stop her.

        "Maybe you shouldn't."

Dakota flashed her vampiric features, veins and sharp teeth before retracting them so quickly the bartender thought he was hallucinating. "Look, I'll call you a cab."

Internally, Dakota smiled but externally she continued to stumble around with a dopey smile on her face.

Dakota waited patiently until the man —Tim hung up the phone. "Do you need help getting outside."

Shaking her head, Dakota nearly fell off of the stool, just barely catching herself from breaking her nose. "I've got it."

Tim laughed to himself, walking around the bar, and to Dakota. "How about I help you out, is that okay?"

"You do whatever you want to do, handsome." Her thin fingers walked up his shirt, as he basically held her entire weight.

The two stood outside for a minute, waiting for the yellow cab to pull up. Now, Dakota could tell that it was definitely nighttime. The sky was dark blue, almost black, as the abyss was decorated with multiple sparkles of light, and a moon that illuminated the darkness around it. Grey clouds that blended into the night sky floated around peacefully, changing shape, covering and revealing the white moon as it drifted.

"So," Tim started, assuming that he could get a brief understanding as to why such a beautiful woman would be drowning her sorrows in bottles of alcohol that should've had her passed out and on the ground hours ago. "—is there a reason why you've been doubling your weight in alcohol?"

"My boyfriend was murdered, and I decided to skip a town or two so I could clear my head, but all I feel is sad and my stomach hurts really bad."

Dakota's brown hair was very messy from all the dancing, and it knotted in various places, sticking to her face and the back of her neck. "I'm really sorry to hear that. It must be really hard for you."

"Don't be sorry, I'm going to get him back silly." Dakota leaned into him, running her lips against his neck that was littered in sun-kisses. The action sent goosebumps on his skin, and Tim began to wonder why the cab was taking so long.

"H-how do you plan on doing that exactly?"

Unbeknownst to him, Dakota's face was changing again as her heightened senses picked up on the blood that was rushing through his veins. As his heart beat faster and faster in nervousness, Dakota picked up on it, and as a vampire who was emotionally unstable and intoxicated beyond belief, she didn't even bother to hold back as she bit into his neck.

Pulling back the first time, blood dripped down her mouth and onto her black dress. He was still alive, but she knew he wouldn't be for long. "I'm going to get him back, even if I have to raise hell in order to do it." With a hiss, Dakota reattached herself to Tim's neck gulping down his sweet blood until all she could taste was air.

His body fell limp to the ground, green eyes staring blankly as his heart no longer held a beat. Just then, the cab pulled in, his black eyes focused forward on the road that was dead silent. Dakota opened the back door, sitting down on the ripped seat that held multiple stains.

Her face was still smeared with blood as she looked at him through the rear-view mirror. "Take me somewhere no one will find me."

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Dakota strutted through the crowded streets of New York, thankfully not sporting a hangover, a pro from being a vampire. Her eyes were dull, and although none of the surrounding pedestrians could see it, she was dying. Metaphorically, of course, but it might as well have been literal. There was a gaping hole in her heart that ached.

         She hadn't checked her phone in the four days that she had been MIA and not a single person had heard from her. All they knew about was the rising body count in New York, and Dakota decided that it was almost time to move on before they realized that she was reason for the increase of dead bodies.

Dakota returned to her hotel room, her bed was neatly made, thanks to room service. In the mornings, when she wasn't out getting drunk and slaughtering the town one person at a time, she cooped herself inside of the semi-crappy hotel with tubs of ice cream and The Last Song in the DVD player that she was surprised the hotel owner could even afford.

Her hands moved quickly to pick up the articles of clothing that had been stained by blood and spilled liquor. Dakota threw the dirty clothes into her suitcase, not caring how they would probably never be able to be worn again since she had waiting so long to get the blood out.

After zipping up the burgundy bag, she opened the door to room 203B to meet the face of Damon and Elena. Her eyes lazily trailed from one to the other, before she passed them, bumping both of their shoulders carelessly. "Can't any of you stay dead?"

"You killed me, you almost killed Matt, and that's all you have to say to me?"

"Please get on with the real reason why you came, because I know damn well that it wasn't to scold me about your new change to vampirism."

Dakota's skin was crawling in annoyance and disgust as she came to the realization that now she'd have to deal with the doppelgänger until either she, or someone else killed Elena Gilbert.

"Klaus is alive."