#thereforthetaking

It had been a long day of levee planning and meetings with those who liked to pretend they were in charge of New Orleans. If only they knew who truly ruled the city, they would run for their lives.

He'd left Elijah halfway through the day, tired of his ranting about how there was really no point in this whole helping-the-humans-in-their-futile-attempt-to-stay-alive thing, because “If we will live forever, what is the point in trying to preserve those who will eventually become simple gravestones in a field?” Humans were for food and entertainment. Why shouldn't they try to gain their trust? It made things much easier later.

On his way home, Klaus invited himself into a fancy gathering of the city's socialites. From the moment he walked in, his eyes were on a pair of giggling sisters, drunk on champagne and fanning themselves to prevent their over-tightened corsets from ruining the evening. They were perfect. Easily flattered and manipulated into following him out into the dark street, and when suspicion arose they were the easiest pair he'd ever compelled. Perfect.

They weren't just for him; it wasn't a midnight snack he was after. He liked the hunt. These were a present for his brother, who clearly needed some cheering up. He wondered who Elijah would prefer: the dark-haired eldest, with the perfume dotted along her neck and décolletage, or the younger, blue-eyed sister, who clearly wasn't aware of the cocaine residue under her nose, or the way her pupils turned the blue almost black.

They were in such a state that his brother could do whatever he wanted with them, without the fear of getting his hands dirty, if he so wished. Or maybe he'd want to get absolutely filthy. Cover himself in the evidence of his deeds, a smile on his face the entire time. Serious, clean, and brutal Elijah was to be feared, but absolutely wrecked, dirty, smiling Elijah was a rare sight to behold.

With a smirk, Klaus led the girls into his home, following the sounds of Elijah angrily flipping through a book. Always the library. Reading, planning, thinking, and so rarely ever acting upon the things that swam through his mind. Maybe tonight would be different.