Sacred Geometry: Chapter 20
Chapter Summary: The Night above Mystic Falls just gets darker. You did not think Katherine was resting on her laurels, did you?
AUTHOR WARNING: Mature content ahead.
Chapter 20
Katherine Pierce loves, loves, loves being herself. Any time, any day. But ,on nights like this one? She loves it just a tad more.
It’s that special hit of adrenaline that reaches its zenith when she knows she is one step or two ahead everyone and she has discovered just that special move to twist to bring whole the castle of cards down-the only high she really craves, better than bloodlust, most significant than any kill, most all-around-satisfying than any drug.
“Oh, Elena I love you-”
She keeps the grin in check, affects what might pass for a teenaged, demure version of arousal by leaning back, eyes half-closed, rolling her hips in a certain way as her hands slide down his ribcage and toward his groin to stop there provocatively.
“It’s more like you love my hands…”
“Damn right-”
Whatever her lover is to say gets swallowed by a grunt as she strokes the inside of his thighs softly, slowly, teasing his family jewels for a lingering moment or two just before caressing his stomach again.
He is bringing his hot mouth to her breast when her lips tremble around a moan: “Oh, I just feel so guilty.”
Oh Elena, even pretending to be you is a mood-killer. Fortunately, there are props.
“My poor Stefan…”
“Yeah, poor Stefan”
The jock mutters with obvious disinterest, kissing the line between her collarbone and her nipple.
“I say he is a lucky man.”
Another mouth smirks against her shoulder, nips at her skin like a promise of punishment.
Hands bring her hips against other hips, and she undulates back and forth between two bodies, both nicely built and muscular, almost but not quite losing herself to the sensual feeling.
How cute for them to think of me as their sex-toy and of themselves as the masters of a poor drunk and miserable orphan, when I might flip their large frames over any second now, and so easily slaughter them. Ah, to cut their throats open, the way my father used to cut into his chickens, but without any blades - using only my fingers, or my fangs.
The thought is tempting, and nothing she has not put into action in past. This time tough, she has a project .
Such a shame. This world is so small and full of idiots- it might use some trimming.
Her hands reach for both her boys, to bring a dark head down for a kiss and another lower, back to her nipple. Her thighs spread wider and wider as she pushes her ass back to meet the hard length ready and eager to impale her backdoor entry.
Jock number 1 is careful and nearly considerate while he slides in, going slow as his hand gets her wet by playing in her secret garden.
Not a bad lay for a teenager.
Still he knows to pull her snugly close to his chest when his friend wants to enter her too.
It makes you to wonder if they imagine their candy-sweet school queen would never willingly submit to such profanation.
Katherine allows her body to be managed, closes her eyes to get a better read of the emotions coloring the air around her.
Lust for flesh, lust for control, a sliver of spoiled macho-boy misogyny: a shot of yellow-red fever that floats from body to body and sticks to her skin like sweaty imprint. The sort of sickly-green, vaguely predatory excitement that brands bullies when they team up to get their way and they succeed.
In the space of two heart-beats (theirs, not hers, because her heart is dead and they can’t touch that, nobody can, it’s only hers, it feels only for herself) all she wants is to scrub them and their filthy emotions off. They make her to feel dirty.
But the show has to go on.
She grins the loose, only too happy grin of someone who had way too much drink at this sorry high school party.
“Oh, I feel so full, it is so very good ! ”
Well, maybe that came out too shrill.
“What’s that, princess, does not Stef know how you like it?”
She stretches up, giggling in faux-giddiness, so the camera in the corner of the room will get a really good shot of her bare breasts.
“He does! He does! He just thinks I like it a bit too much! But it is not my fault! Since my parents died I only need something extra, do you know?”
Oh, if the dig to her dead parents on record while having a threesome on record does not break her in half, I will have severely misjudged her character.
“Yeah, yeah we understand. Right, Jack?”
“Sure, man.”
“Just shut it up, both of you, and get me off.”
That might be the first totally honestly-meant thing she has said in the whole night.
“Oh, is that a… a camera?!”
“Elena, honey, you were the one who wanted to do something crazy - I told you, nobody will ever see the tape except me and Jack -”
More like you and your meat-head cronie will show it to whole your pathetic football team, if I have to compel it out of you. Which I will totally do because I did not enjoy your sophisticated company for sport.
“Promise! I would die if anyone ever knew! My poor Stefan! Pretty please, do that scissor thing to me with your fingers again!”
I sure to God hope my double is not as annoying as I play it in the bedroom. Dear Stefan, what were you thinking?
At dawn, she is sliding back into her tiny black dress, slipping on her trench coat, and leaving behind two worn out, properly compelled morons and their video camera behind as silently as she can.
The fresh air of morning that hits her in the face while she steps out the house goes a long way to put distance between her and the previous night. The show can go on and the stench of mediocrity and sweat is already only the shadow of already accomplished deeds.
Elena Gilbert’s deeds, not hers.
Life is all about the little things.
All Katherine wants at that point is a good, long, hot shower and a martini.
But first things first.
Her maker never liked to wait.
She dials him up as she strolls toward the nearby bar, a vampire on a mission to get at least some caffeine in.
“Kat?”
He sounds drowsy, like she just woke him up. Good. She should not be the only one to be inconvenienced.
“Nik, I am on schedule. Elena’s life stage as Mystic Falls pure princess just got an hit it will never recover.”
“Do I want to know the hows?”
“A pointless question from a control maniac like yourself.”
“Very true.”
“So why are you not grilling me? I might to want to gloat.”
That’s basically the whole basis of their sire-childe relationship. He sets her up a task, invites her to do her worst ever-so-sweetly, and she has her fun going above his expectations, if she can. She gloats, he spoils her high by unloading on her his ever-present man-pain about family issues, and their shared assessment that yes, being an Empath does make you more and not less of a sociopath.
“Elijah had a vision.”
This one makes her to roll her eyes. There’s always a vision coming from that particular party.
“So?”
“We will lose Pearl and Anna.”
“Staked? Burned? Unsuccessful ritual?”
Maybe that Bennett witch is not powerful enough, after all.
“Land-bound, actually.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You will see.”
A frown.
“Am I not supposed to make me my best to avoid it?”
“No, play along and roll with the punches for now. Pretend to be surprised and upset when it happens. Pretend to be petty and vengeaful over it. Use it to push Bonnie Bennett around, but not too much. Divert attention from Elena while you play her, and over all …”
“Take good care of Stefan!” She finishes for him with a mocking purr.
It makes her sire to laugh, a low and sexy pleased sound she still likes.
“I want my boy on the edge when I come in town.”
“Elena?”
“See what you can do, I am still curious. Three women of your bloodline looking so incredibly alike. It sounds like a puzzle I might like to resolve. To not mention, I am missing a lamia in my entourage. I will collect the girl as willing as I can make her. If it gets me my Ripper back, all the better.”
Like if you would settle for anything less. Two copies of your first love, one vampire and the other lamia. An unresolved supernatural mystery that makes your paranoid brain to hitch for a definite answer. The possibility of getting back your masterpiece of a monster. You will want it all and you will give nobody of us any rest until you get it. It’s the way you are.
“About the Bennett witch…”
“Not pliant enough, yet?”
“She got intimate with Damon. I am not sure Elena is going to be enough leverage anymore with her. Her loyalties might shift ... and a Damon in love s a wildcard, always.”
“You would know better than anybody. But, if their little group scatters it on its own it only goes to our advantage. The witch is not my priority anyway. I have plenty of those and my Gloria is doing wonders now. Her bloodline has certainly nothing to envy to the Bennetts.”
Ah, the artist is already infatuated with his dangerous creation. Right as usual. Nik, if only you were as unique as you think yourself being…
“One of those days, this obsession of yours with adding to your … menagerie will land us all in serious trouble.”
“You love trouble and I run a business. Having only the very best in our employ is what keeps our family on top.”
The casual amusement that was there just beneath the surface of that velvet voice now to turned to pure steel. Katherine knows better than to not take it seriously.
*Our* family, or *yours*, Mikaelson?
“Naturally. You know me, I was only joking.”
Not.
“I will keep in touch.”
He hangs up without waiting for a reply.
Moody as always, my daddy.
--
AUTHOR NOTE: OKAY, DON’T HATE ME RIGHT YET. This is leading up to Elena having her own storyline, separate from her love-issues, something that personally I always wanted for her. Also, this is my chance to make Klaus the villain I once dreamed he could be. It will be dark and occasionally agansty ride, but it will be rewarding I promise.