A/N: This Bonus chapter was brought to you by Lord Banana19! All hail his mighty grace!
[Blood Diary Entry – Rebekah Mikaelson]
Isolde seemed to notice the sudden change in me, but ultimately decided not to comment or say anything.
We kept drinking in silence, occasionally interrupted by the bartender bringing more as we finished what we were currently drinking.
I did feel bad for the way Isolde was looking at me, but it would've happened sooner or later—and better for her to judge me than for her to judge her son.
Because from the way he behaved in the cemetery and how easily he killed that disgusting gravekeeper, he wasn't keen on being merciful to those who offended him.
Sigh…
At least now she can get used to it faster.
Speaking of Darian…
I am starting to miss the little guy. And I can't wait to get away from this city, and judging by what that witch Louise said, the sooner the better.
"Well, isn't this a cheery place to be? What's gotten the two of you so depressed?" Gloria quipped.
Seems she was done with her dirty work.
"Back so soon?" Isolde asked dryly.
"The wonders of delegating work, my dear," Gloria answered.
Isolde scoffed and turned her gaze to the cup in her hands, before downing the liquid inside in one go.
"Careful there..." Gloria's voice dragged on.
"I'll drink as fast as I want, and as much as I want! I am a big girl, thank you very much." Isolde barked back angrily.
"Key word being 'girl'."
Isolde gave her the finger for that.
Gloria smirked and turned her attention to me.
"So, I take it you're done reminiscing?"
I nodded.
"So, are you leaving now?"
"So eager to get rid of me… and here I thought we were friends, you're hurting my feelings here." I clutched my chest theatrically.
Gloria was entirely unamused. "Your brother's sense of humor doesn't fit you, dear."
My eyebrow twitched. "I get why Isolde flipped you off now…"
"I would think so, you two seem to be so very in tune... like birds of a feather."
"Fuck off, Gloria."
"Rude," she said without actually sounding offended. "But yes, I do want you gone. You see, having an Original Vampire in my establishment—especially after said vampire caused a scene—is bad for business."
My eyes narrowed, but I decided enough was enough, and I stopped playing this boring game. "I want information on my mother's talisman."
Gloria eyed my neck. "Yes, you seem to be missing it."
"No, not that one. Though I would appreciate it if you could point me in any direction regarding that."
I used to wear a silver necklace all the time. And that necklace was actually one of my mother's most powerful talismans, but not the only one.
Over the years, I grew quite attached to it and wouldn't part with it for anything in this world.
But when I woke up… it was gone. I even looked in the coffin afterwards, wondering if maybe it had fallen from my neck over the decades, but it wasn't there.
I also contacted Niklaus, asking if he had it with him, but no such luck. It seemed as if it vanished from the face of the earth.
Sigh…
"I'm afraid I don't know anything on either of those fronts. You know how precious Esther's belongings are to us witches." Gloria answered, ripping me away from my musings.
"I see… But what I meant from my first request is different," I said as I placed my hands inside my jacket and removed something from one of the inner pockets. "This is what I was talking about." I placed the medallion, Darian and I found in that haunted house, one of many my mother had used in life.
"Oh! Now this is interesting…" Gloria moved to grab the medallion on the table, but I placed a single finger on it and stopped her from doing so. "I need to inspect it if you want anything from me." She said dryly.
"Do so with your eyes, not your hands." My eyes narrowed.
She sighed exasperatedly. "Rebekah, would you stop being unreasonable?"
My eyes narrowed further into thin slits. "You seem to be under the impression that I will not kill you," I said as my hand grabbed hers.
She smiled cockily. "You won't because you need something from me."
I increased the strength of my grip and felt her bones snapping under it. "You're behaving quite naively for someone your age… dear."
She grimaced in pain. "You can't compel me to do your bidding…" she said between her teeth as she did her best not to scream.
"True… but I can always find other witches. In fact, I met a rather competent one earlier tonight." I said with as much venom as I could muster in my tone.
"Then why not go to her?" She asked, still maintaining that cocky tone.
"Because this was the last place I visited while I still had my necklace hanging around my neck, but that does not make you irreplaceable, Gloria."
Her heartbeat spiked, the scent of fear rolling off her — then panic dawned on her. Seems she has grown used to being Chicago's top dog and forgot how truly fragile witches were, under all that bullshit boasting of theirs.
I hate witches… Manipulative, greedy scum, the lot of them.
Gloria eyed the object on the table and quickly answered as best she could. "I think I saw that one in an auction way back."
"And?" I asked impatiently. "A Scandinavian witch bought it, but she went missing decades ago after she found herself a promising Romanian apprentice. That's all I know, I swear!"
I checked her heartbeat and even her scent for the slightest hint of a lie, and after I found no such sign… I applied more pressure and completely broke her wrist. "I believe you. Which is why I'm only breaking your bones. Because if you had lied to me, I would've turned you into my last cocktail of the night, right here in your own bar."
Her eyes trembled in fear and impotent rage.
"Remember your place, Gloria. I would hate for you to have a 'shaving accident' one of these days." I said as I let her go.
I turned to Isolde, who watched the whole thing with indifference. "Want to leave, or do you want anything else?" I asked.
Isolde looked at me, slightly groggy from her drinks, and just nodded. "I want to leave."
I nodded and helped her up her feet. Then I looked back at Gloria. "Thank you for the information and the free drinks. And be glad it was me and not my brothers."
Under her scorching gaze, we left the bar and went back to the hotel.
When we got up to our floor and pushed the door open, an unexpected sight welcomed us.
We found Darian in the middle of the room. His hair was still wet, and his skin still damp from his recent bath.
He was in the middle of putting on a shirt, but what caught our attention was how he had changed all of a sudden.
He was taller, about 10 centimeters taller—which should make him roughly 145 centimeters tall.
His body was leaner and already showing his growing muscles, his previous childish chubbiness nowhere to be found.
Darian's hair was darker and seemed to drink in the light around it like a voracious beast.
His face was more sculpted and masculine, though he still resembled Isolde—greatly so, by the way—he also seemed… different.
The blue eyes he shared with his mother were entirely gone. Now replaced by two crimson globes, almost resembling the shade they take when he taps into his vampiric side. But they weren't glowing. But the thing that most caught Isolde's attention was the mark on his left shoulder.
It was a strange mix between a scar and a tattoo. It looked like a shield with seven vertical claw marks on it.
Honestly, I found it quite intriguing…
"What the hell, Darian?!" Isolde screamed.