The hotel suite Klaus had procured was opulent – crystal chandeliers, silk draperies, antique furniture that spoke of old European wealth.
It now served as their war room, with maps spread across tables and phones constantly ringing as Klaus's network of informants was activated.
Rebekah stood by the window, staring out at Prague's skyline. Katherine sat on a velvet couch, her daughter Nadia beside her, both women silent.
Klaus entered with Elijah close behind. Without preamble, he gestured toward the television mounted on the wall, where aerial footage showed the devastation they'd left behind.
"A storm," Klaus said, his voice carrying deadly calm. "That's what they're calling it. A meteorological anomaly."
He turned to face Rebekah and Elijah. "Europe still stands. Which means neither of you fully transformed. You two bloody held back."
Rebekah's head snapped toward him, eyes flashing with dangerous light. "How dare you! I nearly dessicated myself! I haven't fed properly for decades because of your bloody dagger, and still I manifested more power than I have in centuries!"
"And yet the continent remains," Klaus replied, stepping closer. "Curious, isn't it? When we both know what you're truly capable of, sister."
Elijah moved between them, "And had we unleashed our full power, what then, Niklaus? Dracula could have taken Lucien anywhere - somewhere in Europe included. Had we destroyed Europe in our rage, we might have killed the very boy we're trying to save."
Klaus's jaw tightened visibly. "You let him slip away."
"Yes," Elijah acknowledged, the admission clearly paining him. "We failed. A fact that haunts me every moment. But destroying a continent in blind rage would not have saved him."
From her position on the couch, Katherine suddenly doubled over, a gasp escaping her lips. Her hands clutched at her chest as if trying to extract something painful lodged there.
The argument ceased immediately as all eyes turned to her.
"Katherine?" Nadia touched her mother's shoulder, concern etching her features.
Katherine straightened slowly, her face ashen. "It's Lucien. I can still... feel him. His emotions. I've been able to for a while now, since..." she shook her head. "I wasn't able to when he was unconscious. He must be awake."
Klaus was beside her in an instant, all previous anger redirected. "What do you feel? Precisely." Deciding to question about the 'when' of this development after all is done.
"Fear," Katherine whispered. "Pain. Confusion." She closed her eyes, concentrating. "It's like... waves. Coming too fast, too intense."
Elijah exchanged a glance with Klaus. "You've formed a deeper connection than we realized."
"Can you locate him through this connection?" Klaus demanded.
Katherine shook her head. "It's not directional, just... emotional. I know he's alive, but not where."
"These emotions," Elijah said carefully, "you say they come in waves? Rapidly?"
Katherine nodded. "Too rapidly. Like... like minutes of emotions compressed into seconds."
Silence fell as the implication settled over the room.
"Time dilation," Elijah finally said, his voice grave. "Wherever Dracula has taken him, time is moving differently there. Faster."
Nadia's eyes widened. "How much faster?"
"Impossible to say precisely," Elijah replied. "But if Katherine is correct about the compression of emotions..."
"Hours here could be days there," Klaus finished, his expression darkening. "Which means we have even less time than we thought."
Katherine stood at the window, arms wrapped around herself as if holding something precious inside.
An hour had passed. An hour.
What could have already happened in a single hour?
Another wave of emotion hit her – sharper this time. Raw fear followed by a spike of defiance. Then pain so intense she had to grip the windowsill to remain standing.
"Mother?" Nadia approached cautiously, still unaccustomed to the word. "Perhaps you should rest."
Katherine shook her head. "I can't."
"This connection... it's hurting you."
"It's all I have of him right now."
Nadia studied her mother's profile, searching for the Katherine Pierce of legend in this worried, vulnerable woman. "You truly care for this boy."
Katherine didn't answer immediately. When she did, her voice was barely audible. "He sees me. He's given me everything. Everything."
The door opened as Klaus entered with Elijah, interrupting the moment. Both looked grim.
"My contacts have found nothing," Klaus announced. "No unusual energy signatures, no whispers of Dracula's whereabouts."
"And the Bennett witches?" Katherine asked.
"Kol is handling that avenue," Elijah replied. "He should be here shortly."
As if summoned by his name, the door swung open again to admit Kol Mikaelson, his usual mischievous demeanor subdued.
"The witches have nothing," he reported without preamble. "They can't get a lock on the boy. It's as if he's been erased from their reach."
"That's impossible," Klaus growled. "Nothing can hide from a Bennett witch."
"Unless," Kol countered, "our boy has been destroying evidence of himself. Apparently, he's been quite thorough about eliminating any DNA traces he left around our home. Hair, skin cells, even burning his discarded clothing. Quite the paranoid little fellow. The witches don't have anything to work with."
Despite everything, Klaus's lips twitched in what might have been pride. "Smart boy."
"Well, my dear brother," Kol said, dropping onto a couch with casual grace, "you've certainly upgraded from 'Former King of New Orleans.' Stealing the Almighty's son? That's ambitious even for you."
His eyes glinted with dark humor. "Do you think there's a custody arrangement to be worked out? Weekend visitations with the Creator Himself?"
Klaus moved with blinding speed, seizing Kol by the throat and lifting him off the couch. "You find this amusing?"
Kol didn't struggle, meeting Klaus's fury with calm. "Coping mechanism, brother. Some of us laugh in the face of cosmic absurdity."
For a moment, it seemed Klaus might actually harm his brother. Then, with visible effort, he released him and stepped back.
"Find me a way to locate him," Klaus ordered, "or your next dagger nap will make the last one seem like a pleasant dream."
The tension in the room was shattered by a gasp from Katherine. She clutched at her chest again, this time dropping to her knees. Her eyes widened in horror at something only she could feel.
"Katherine!" Nadia rushed to her side.
"It's worse," Katherine whispered, her voice breaking. "So much worse now. He's... he's terrified. And in pain."
Elijah knelt beside her, his expression grave. "Torture."
The word hung in the air like a physical presence.
"We need to find him," Katherine said, struggling to her feet with Nadia's help. "Now."
Elijah exchanged a look with Klaus before quietly leaving the room.
The others continued their discussion, debating tracking methods and magical approaches, but Katherine barely heard them.
She was focused inward, clinging to the emotional thread connecting her to Lucien, no matter how painful.
Minutes later, Elijah returned, a small ornate box in his hands. The conversation died as all eyes turned to him.
Slowly, he opened the box to reveal a folded handkerchief stained with dried blood.
"What is that?" Klaus asked, his voice dangerously soft.
"Lucien's blood," Elijah replied simply. "I collected it some time ago, after he bled at our dining table."
Klaus's eyes narrowed. "And why, exactly, have you been keeping my son's blood, brother?"
"I was... curious about its properties. Particularly its unusual effect on Katerina." Elijah's gaze flicked briefly to Katherine. "Such addiction in a vampire of her age is unprecedented."
For a moment, Klaus looked as if he might attack Elijah. Then his expression shifted to one of grudging gratitude.
"Your peculiar hoarding tendencies may have saved the boy," he conceded.
Kol approached, examining the handkerchief with newfound interest. "This changes everything. With his blood, a powerful enough witch could break through almost any magical barrier."
"The Bennett witch you mentioned?" Elijah asked.
Kol nodded. "Tamara Bennett. Her ancestors owe me a favor from 1772. Rather significant one, actually."
"Call her," Klaus ordered. "Now."
An hour later, Tamara Bennett entered the hotel suite. She was a striking woman in her mid-thirties, with close-cropped hair. She carried a worn leather bag that clinked softly with glass vials and metal implements.
"Kol Mikaelson," she said, her voice rich and measured. "I was wondering when you'd collect."
Kol offered a slight bow. "Always a pleasure, Tamara."
She surveyed the room, taking in the Original family and Katherine with calm assessment. "You said this was about a missing boy?"
"My son," Klaus stated, stepping forward. "Taken by Dracula himself."
If Tamara was surprised by this information, she didn't show it. "And you have his blood?"
Elijah presented the handkerchief. Tamara took it carefully, closing her eyes briefly as her fingers made contact with the stain.
"Powerful," she murmured. "Very powerful. But there's something... unusual about it."
"Can you find him?" Klaus demanded.
Tamara opened her eyes. "I'll need more than this. Blood connections are strongest. Anyone here share blood with him?"
"I do," Katherine said immediately. "We've... exchanged blood multiple times."
Tamara nodded. "That will help. Anyone else?"
"I have a contract with the boy," Klaus offered. "Blood-bound."
"As do I," Rebekah added. "Mine is specifically for his protection."
"Good. The stronger the connections, the better our chances of breaking through whatever is hiding him." Tamara began unpacking her bag, arranging candles, herbs, and a large silver bowl on the coffee table. "I'll need blood from each of you."
As Tamara worked, Katherine experienced another wave of Lucien's emotions – this one so intense she staggered backward. Rage, fear, and something worse... disgust. Self-loathing so powerful it made her physically ill.
"Katherine?" Nadia steadied her.
But Katherine couldn't respond. The emotions were overwhelming, consuming. Without warning, she retched violently, vomiting onto the expensive carpet.
"Mother!" Nadia's voice seemed distant, underwater.
Katherine's legs gave out. She would have collapsed entirely if Elijah hadn't caught her, lowering her gently to a chair.
"What's happening to her?" Nadia demanded.
"She's experiencing his emotions too strongly," Elijah explained, his voice tight with concern. "The connection is overwhelming her."
Katherine's breathing came in ragged gasps. Her hands clawed at her own chest as if trying to extract something painful.
"We need to block this connection," Elijah decided. "At least temporarily."
"No!" Katherine's head snapped up, eyes wild. "Don't you dare!"
"Katherine, this is destroying you," Elijah reasoned. "This pain serves no purpose."
"This pain is the only thing I have of him right now," she snarled, gripping Elijah's wrist with surprising strength. "It tells me he's still alive, still fighting." Her voice broke. "The silence would be worse. Not knowing if he's... if he's..."
She couldn't finish the sentence. Instead, her control finally shattered. With a cry of pure anguish, Katherine seized a nearby vase and hurled it against the wall.
It shattered spectacularly, water and flowers spraying across the wallpaper.
"Where is he?!" she screamed, grabbing another decorative object – a crystal paperweight – and smashing it into a mirror. "Where!? Where! Where! Where!"
Elijah moved quickly, catching her wrists before she could destroy anything else. "Katherine. Katherine, look at me."
She struggled against his grip, her eyes wild, wings of shadow and light beginning to manifest from her back.
"Look at me," Elijah repeated, his voice commanding yet gentle.
Slowly, Katherine's struggles subsided. Her eyes, filled with tears, finally focused on Elijah's face.
"We will find him," Elijah promised. "But destroying this room won't help."
The fight drained from Katherine all at once. Her wings retracted, and she sagged against Elijah, tears flowing freely now.
"I love him, Elijah... I can feel him suffering," she whispered. "And there's nothing I can do."
Nadia watched this display with wide eyes, seeing a side of her mother she'd never imagined existed.
The Katherine Pierce of legend – selfish, calculating, ruthless – would never break down like this over anyone.
Tamara Bennett cleared her throat softly. "The spell is ready. I need the blood now."
Katherine straightened immediately, wiping tears from her face with quick, angry motions. She extended her wrist without hesitation. "Take what you need."
Klaus and Rebekah followed suit, each offering their blood to the witch. Tamara collected it in separate vials before combining them in the silver bowl with herbs and the blood from Elijah's handkerchief.
"This will be difficult," she warned as she began to chant. "Whatever is hiding him has powerful protection."
The candles around the bowl flared higher as Tamara's chanting intensified. The blood mixture began to swirl of its own accord, rising into a slowly rotating column above the bowl.
Minutes passed. Tamara's brow furrowed with increasing concentration, sweat beading on her forehead. The blood column spun faster, but remained confined to the bowl.
"Something's blocking us," Tamara muttered between chants. "A barrier I can't penetrate."
Katherine stepped forward without hesitation. "Use me. Use our connection."
Tamara paused, studying her. "It could be dangerous. Your connection is emotional, not just physical."
"I don't care."
After a moment's consideration, Tamara nodded. "Place your hands on either side of the bowl."
Katherine did as instructed. Immediately, the blood column reacted, pulsing with new energy. Tamara's chanting grew louder, more insistent. The candle flames stretched toward the ceiling, casting wild shadows across the room.
Katherine gasped as she felt something pulling at her – not physically, but deeper, at the level of her soul. She instinctively reached for that bond, offering it to the spell.
The blood column suddenly exploded outward, transforming into a map of light that hovered in the air above the table.
Continents and oceans formed from crimson droplets, spinning slowly until focusing on a location marked by a pulsing point of light.
Tamara's voice changed, becoming deeper, resonant with power. "Beyond the wall of ice where no mortal treads... upon the ashes of God's wrath... where two cities once stood in defiance..."
The map dissolved, blood droplets falling back into the bowl as Tamara slumped forward, exhausted. Kol caught her before she could collapse completely.
A heavy silence filled the room.
"Sodom and Gomorrah," Elijah finally realised, his voice hollow with disbelief. "Of all places..."
"What does that mean?" Nadia asked, looking between the siblings.
Klaus's expression had darkened to something truly dangerous. "It means Dracula has chosen his battlefield with diabolical precision."
"The ruins of Sodom and Gomorrah remain saturated with divine wrath," Elijah explained. "No supernatural creature can set foot there without being immolated instantly."
"Except Dracula himself," Rebekah added bitterly. "As Gabriel Belmont, he was God's champion. That divine connection grants him immunity."
"He's placed Lucien somewhere we physically cannot reach," Klaus concluded, his voice tight with fury.
Katherine stared at them in growing horror. "So we know where he is, but can't reach him? What good is that?" She seized a remaining vase and hurled it against the wall. "Every moment we waste, he suffers more!"
"There must be a way," Nadia insisted, trying to calm her mother. "Perhaps a spell of protection?"
"Against God's wrath?" Elijah shook his head. "No magic is that powerful."
"What about an angel?" Katherine demanded. "Couldn't an angel grant us protection to enter?"
Elijah's expression grew even more somber. "Theoretically, yes. But we don't know any angels, and if we did, it's not as if they would welcome our kind with open arms. We are vampires, and not just any vampires, the Originals, abominations in their eyes."
"It doesn't matter," Katherine insisted. "We find an angel and convince them afterward."
"It's not that simple, Katerina," Elijah countered. "Even if we could locate an angel, and force their aid in the moment, they could simply withdraw their protection once we enter, leaving us to burn in divine wrath. And angels haven't walked the Earth since the time of the Prophet Muhammad, at least not openly."
He paused, considering. "Although... there are the Nephilim. Half-human, half-angel offspring. Heaven though has hunted them nearly to extinction for their 'blasphemous existence.'"
At the word Nephilim, something instincitvely just... clicked in Katherine's mind. Like an instinct recognizing something important that can help.
Katherine's head snapped up. "Nephilim? What would their power look like?"
Elijah frowned, confused by her sudden interest. "What do you mean?"
"If an angel or Nephilim used their power – what would it look like? Would it be... light?"
"According to the accounts I've heard from those old enough to have witnessed them, yes," Elijah confirmed. "Angels typically inhabit human vessels, but their true form manifests as intense white-blue light, often accompanied by a distinct high-pitched ringing."
Katherine slammed her hands on the table, startling everyone. "I know where we can find one."
All eyes turned to her.
"Elena Gilbert," Katherine said, her voice gaining strength. "My doppelgänger. She's thirteen years old, same as Lucien. During the Red Sun ritual, she died... but then a column of white light erupted from her body. She came back to life, and that same light healed Lucien's severed hand."
"Mother, are you saying this girl is an angel?" Nadia asked, clearly skeptical.
"Or a Nephilim. I don't know which. But that light... it matches what Elijah just described."
Klaus's expression shifted subtly as he accessed memories. "She's right. I can see it in Lucien's memories – a column of pure white light emanating from the girl, healing his injuries, restoring his hand."
"Where is this girl now?" Elijah asked, deciding to later, address what they mean by "restoring his hand" and question more details about the 'Red Sun Ritual', knowing it has to do with the Godhand.
"With Lucien's mother," Katherine answered. "She and her brother were adopted by Kate after the events in Mystic Falls."
"Then our course is clear," Klaus declared. "We retrieve the girl."
"And if she refuses to help?" Rebekah asked warily.
Klaus smiled, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Let's hope she values Lucien as much as he values her."
"Niklaus..." Elijah warned.
"Fear not, brother," Klaus interrupted. "I won't harm the girl. The boy nearly sacrificed his soul saving her. I don't wish to create such a wedge between my son and me. But... It's time for her to return the favor."
-------------------------
The dungeon air hung heavy with the scent of copper and salt.
Torchlight flickered across the stone walls, casting dancing shadows.
Lucien hung suspended from the wall, chains binding his wrists and ankles. There was still a lot of dry blood against his bare chest.
In the corner of the cell, Stefan still huddled with his knees drawn to his chest, eyes hollow.
'Could that actually work?' Lucien thought to himself, for a moment throwing Stefan a side glance. 'If what I'm feeling is right, then maybe...'
The heavy iron door suddenly creaked open, breaking the stillness.
Isaac entered with measured steps, his sandals whispering against the stone floor. But this time, he wasn't alone. He dragged something – someone – behind him, the form leaving a trail on the damp floor.
A woman. Unconscious. Naked. Her red hair spilled across the stones like blood.
Lucien's eyes widened as he realised what was happening. His cracked lips parted, but no sound emerged.
Isaac silently positioned the woman in the center of the cell, directly in Lucien's line of sight. He arranged his torture implements on a small table – knives, pincers, brands – ensuring Lucien could see each one clearly.
Then he lifted a bucket of water - like he's done countless times to Lucien already - and threw its contents onto the woman's still form.
"Huuuuuuuuuhhhhh!"
She awoke with a violent gasp, her body convulsing from the shock of cold. Her eyes, green and terrified, darted around the unfamiliar surroundings before settling on Isaac's impassive face.
"Where... where am I?" she whispered, her voice hoarse with fear. "Please... I don't-"
Isaac said nothing. He simply turned, locking eyes with Lucien, his meaning perfectly clear.
"No," Lucien whispered, pulling desperately against his chains. "No! She has nothing to do with this!"
Isaac remained silent as he selected a thin blade from his collection, his eyes never leaving Lucien's as he approached the trembling woman.
"Please," she sobbed, trying to crawl away. "Please don't..."
------------------------
(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
So... Stage Two of the torture is beginning - the one where Lucien isn't the one being physically harmed, but the innocent.
Tell me, what do you think will happen?
Will Lucien give in?
Will it be fast, or will it take time with many victims pilling up?
Or... Do you think our boy has found a way out? If so... How?
Well, I'm interested in your thoughts. I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)