“He’s been a problem since the three of you washed up on shore,” Sol spat, and Elijah could hear that he was still nursing his grudge. “I’ve been informed that there’s a dead body in the east garden. One of the humans.”

Klaus.

“I don’t know what you’re angry about, then,” Elijah replied with a tight shrug. He found his own patience for diplomacy wearing dangerously thin. “If he’s busy with humans, he’s not threatening your kind. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to remind your pack to stay inside after dark. It’s just common sense for anyone who can’t take on a single vampire alone.”

The blow caught Elijah entirely off guard, crunching into his jawbone and spinning him all the way around before he could even react. He heard a snarl, and a pair of wild eyes glowed yellow somewhere in the shadows. Elijah felt his teeth grow sharp and deadly, but then the growls multiplied, and he froze.

“That’s the thing about being a pack,” Sol said jovially, his broad face creasing into a vicious smile. “We’re never really alone.”

Elijah guessed there were at least five werewolves that had joined them.

“Your brother hasn’t paid for any of the blood he’s spilled,” a voice beside him sneered. It sounded familiar—Sol’s younger son perhaps. “And yet you just walk in here thinking all will be forgiven?” The group echoed him with dark murmurs of agreement.

Elijah bared his fangs, and smirked as the werewolf took an uncertain step back. His name was Louis, Elijah remembered, and unlike his slim brother, he had inherited both their father’s height and his heavy frame.

This is why the Mikaelsons need to stay together, Elijah thought angrily. For his “pack,” six werewolves would be nothing. Caught on his own, he would have to improvise. “Sol,” he began, as strong hands grabbed the collar of his white shirt.

“Take him outside,” Sol ordered quietly, and Elijah was pulled nearly off his feet.

He had just enough balance to push off the floor and flip behind the circle of werewolves. He lashed out with his fists, not caring who he hit as long as he made contact. A swarthy werewolf with startling green eyes got close enough to jab Elijah in the ribs, and Elijah repaid him by breaking his arm. It cracked with a sickening splintering sound. Louis pushed his injured packmate out of his way in a bid to reach Elijah, and Elijah kept one wary eye on his progress. Louis was substantially bigger than the rest of the werewolves, and only one of Sol’s lackeys was effectively out of the fight.

Another blow caught Elijah in the kidney: He was surrounded again. He turned faster than a human eye could see to meet the new attacker, realizing too late that he had turned his back on the most formidable of his enemies. Before Elijah could think of a way to defend himself against Louis, he heard the big werewolf yelp in pain and fall to the floor.

Klaus stood behind him, his eyes and mouth standing out vividly against the pale fury of his face. Elijah waited for the next attack, but by then Rebekah had arrived as well. Her slim white hand rested on Sol’s sleeve, her grip deadly. Although his broad face was still hot with anger, Elijah knew Solomon was smart enough to recalculate the odds. Together, the three Original vampires were no one’s idea of easy prey.

“That’s enough now,” Rebekah warned, her voice low with her implied threat.

Louis struggled to his feet, brushing off his wrinkled coat and looking absolutely murderous. But obedience won over fury and he looked to his father for his cue.

“We’re here to celebrate Armand and his fiancée,” Sol agreed after a long moment. “This is not the night to address the city’s vermin problem.” The werewolves around them began to slink back into the crowd, Louis leaving last of all. When only the three vampires remained, Sol straightened his cravat. “Think hard about how you three fit in here,” he advised coldly. “Thanks to this alliance, both we and the witches can now devote more attention to cleaning up this city. You might find that you’re more comfortable elsewhere.” Solomon turned on his heel, and was gone.

Elijah drew closer to his siblings. Rebekah still glanced warily around the room, but Klaus only had eyes for Sol’s back. “So,” Klaus began lightly, “I think I heard something about an ‘alliance’?”

“Don’t start,” Rebekah snapped. Even as she spoke to Klaus, her blue eyes scanned Elijah up and down, probing for any sign of serious injury. “You understand perfectly well why we didn’t tell you about the marriage pact.” Elijah knew that Klaus understood, but that was the problem. “And you,” she raged, pushing Elijah hard in the chest. “What were you thinking, starting a fight tonight, of all nights? Isn’t one Niklaus enough?”

“We might have been better off staying home,” Elijah admitted, rubbing at his chest ruefully, “but I could have used a few more Niklauses once they started in on me.” He turned to smile appreciatively at his brother, but to his alarm he realized that Klaus was now covertly watching Vivianne.

Rebekah must have seen it, too, because she moved between them, cutting off their brother’s line of sight to the half witch. “This is serious,” she argued urgently. “Our place here was precarious already, but the werewolves will have more influence now. With Sol in their ears, the witches might decide to stop ignoring us.”

“You know what I’ll suggest.” Klaus leaned back a little, trying to catch another glimpse of the bride-to-be. “Army, slaughter, safety.”

“No army,” Elijah disagreed vehemently. “We can’t break the deal first. Just one new vampire will be all the excuse they need. They won’t just drive us out; they’ll band together to destroy us.”

Rebekah looked from Klaus to Vivianne and back again, her expression thoughtful. “But there’s already an army here,” she mused. “The French have a permanent camp just a few miles away. They’re human, obviously, but turning them can’t be the only way to get them on our side. We have other methods of persuasion. Isn’t that right, Niklaus?”

Klaus frowned in surprise, but Elijah realized what Rebekah was getting at. “People will do foolish things for love,” Elijah agreed thoughtfully, “and a little compulsion wouldn’t hurt our cause, either.”

Elijah could tell that, at least for the moment, Klaus was back in the fold. “My sister the general,” Klaus teased, almost warmly. “Seducing the entire French army should be an interesting new challenge for you.”

Rebekah laughed, and for a moment Elijah remembered them all as children—as humans—again. “I think seducing just the captain will suffice,” she said primly. “Soldiers obey orders.”

“How dull,” Klaus responded with an exaggerated smile, hooking Rebekah’s arm in his. “Speaking of which, this party has gone terribly stale. Let’s go find something to eat.”

“Leave it breathing,” Elijah warned under his breath, but he couldn’t keep a grin entirely off his lips.

CHAPTER THREE

THEY NEVER SAW HER COMING.

The cart horse shrieked as Rebekah launched herself at the humans, who had mistakenly believed the twilit forest north of the city a perfectly safe place to be. But the warning came too late for the couple, who didn’t even manage to look up before Rebekah was upon them. Climbing up onto the wagon, she snapped the woman’s neck with her left hand, and with her right she pulled the man’s head back to expose his weathered throat. His life ended in a burst of thick, hot blood before he could even wonder why.

Rebekah normally would have preferred to take a little more time with her meals, but she had too much to do. The army patrol passed by these woods every hour, and she had no intention of greeting them as a murderess.

She ripped apart the straps of the harness that yoked the horse to the wagon. She raised a hand to shoo it away, and the beast bolted as soon as it was free. The broken harness dangled uselessly in the dirt, and Rebekah kicked in one of the wheels for added effect. Spokes shattered and the hoop cracked, emphasizing how helpless and stranded she was supposed to be.