(CHAPTER SEVENTEEN :
STATE OF GRACE)

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TENDERLY, I TOUCHED MY lips, the aftertaste of Kol Mikaelson lingering. It was in that moment I knew a love as strong as ours could never disappear — it didn't dissolve into dust one day, never to be seen again. As a vampire, I ran from that love because it made me feel exposed and vulnerable. When I was presented with supernatural abilities, it seemed the narrative of the superior, ferocious predator was thrusted onto me. After all these years, it was liberating to have finally found inner peace with my emotions. In accepting my feelings for Kol, I reached a state of grace. Nothing could be better, I was potentially being selfish in disregarding the judgement of my friends, but in being so, I was finally free.

With freedom came courage, courage to make the first move. Although I walked away from him seconds earlier, the thought of him made my knees buckle. I wanted to make the first move, show him how serious I was. If he wanted to wait, I would, but a part of me didn't want him to assume my sudden actions were a result of a delirious outburst. The paranoid part of me wanted to give both of us reassurance what happened was real. With that as my driving force, I snapped my eyelids shut in concentration and searched for his voice in the high school. Rooting through the various conversations, I located his distinctive accent within seconds. Relying on my vampire senses, I followed the familiar sound and frowned when I stopped outside of a custodial closet. Of all places, why a custodial closet?

"Where is the cure?!" Kol interrogated, a foreign harshness invading his tone. It had been a long time since I heard him speak in such a brusque, demanding manner. Upon hearing his shouts, I burst through the door to see the Original drowning a man. On impulse, I slackened my jaw as I watched the repeated violence of the brunette vampire forcing an older man's head into a sink.

I couldn't control the way my features my features contorted, twisting into disgust. "Kol, stop that! What the hell are you doing?" I frantically questioned. Something like this wasn't new to me, but death was one thing I never grew accustomed to — as much of it as I caused and experienced.

Ignoring me, Kol ripped the man's head out of the water before yanking it back into the sink again. More force was exerted into each push and pull as he repeated the movement several times, the intervals between the man being in and out the water growing smaller and smaller. Briefly, my pupils extended when I recognised the face of the vampire's victim — 'Professor Strange' from the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Better known as, Atticus Shane. 

"I—I know him." I spluttered, my voice pleading. Even if I barely knew the man, I didn't want him to die at the hands of Kol Mikaelson because — although I would raise my hands and admit I was no saint — this was somebody with a career that had the power to evoke change. Since my no humanity bend, my guilty conscious had intensified and I was more inclined to play the role of the moral monster than ever before.

From outside the room, heels clicked and the door swung upon in an exaggerated, dramatic fashion. Rebekah Mikaelson — with pin straight blonde hair, styled in designer brands — strutted into the confined space. "Perfect, you know him." She clapped her hands together with glee. "Perhaps you could be of some use before you lose the plot." Her manicured nails made a taunting 'crazy' motion, a low whistle following her snide remark.

"Your lips are moving, yet all I'm hearing is the deafening sound of desperation and insecurity." I fired back, folding my arms over my chest. "I didn't come here for you." I added pointedly, sharing a secretive glance with Kol.

"Oh, I will miss your witty remarks when you're dead." Rebekah retorted, not missing a beat. Before I could conjure a response, she swiftly rotated her body to face Professor Shane. "Now, back to business. You're human. Why do you want it anyway?" Her tone hardened, the previous traces of bemusement nonexistent.

"That's the beauty of this. You can have it." He breathed out heavily, still trying to catch the breath he lost after being tormented by Kol. "I just want Silas." He cemented, an eerie grin creeping across his face.

Silas. Grace — my friend from Dallas in the seventies — used to talk about him often. In fact, I would dare say she was obsessed with him. However, I tuned out her coven-induced ramblings most of the time, leaving my mind to draw blank on what was so special about Silas. Before I could question the name, Kol had Professor Shane dangling in mid-air, holding onto him by the collar of his shirt. "No." Kol whispered under his breath. "What do you know about Silas?" He demanded sharply, grinding his teeth.

"He's the world's first immortal being, who just happens to be imprisoned with the cure." Shane explained, not once stuttering or appearing fazed by the fact Original vampire was gripping him by the shirt. "And I want to free him." He affirmed, irises shining at the mention of Silas, gleaming with an emotion I had only been vaguely acquainted with — hope.

"No!" Kol protested, his eyes blazing and face falling flat. Atticus Shane's claims triggered a homicidal urge in Kol, the vampire plunging the man's head under the murky sink water once again. Except, he was more driven this time, keeping the cultist without oxygen for far longer than before. I glared at him and he held my gaze, it was then I knew this was a different man that the one I kissed an hour ago.

Rebekah noticed our intense staring match, opting to step in. "Stop!" She ordered her brother, the authoritative tone in her voice bouncing off of the four walls that sealed us.

"Is this why we couldn't go to New Orleans?" I chided, unimpressed. "End this, Kol. I could die soon, don't choose Silas over me." I begged, resorting to dirty means to attract his attention. One of Kol's biggest faults was his tunnel vision.

"We'll all die if Silas is raised!" Kol debated, unsatisfied by the turning of the tables.

"He's of no use dead." Rebekah rebutted, content that her sibling released Professor Shane after weighing out his options.

Despite opting to do the right thing, Kol was visibly enraged by his sister's cool composure and my manipulative tactics. "Did you not just hear what he said?" He looked between the two of us in disbelief. "Silas will kill us all, sister." He emphasised, addressing Rebekah as it were the Mikaelsons who were meant to be indestructible par white oak.

"He said that Silas is immortal." I nodded towards Professor Shane. "But, nothing is truly immortal. We can get the cure and kill him." I suggested, my eyebrows knitting together.

"Silas does not exist." Rebekah assured me, finding it humorous that an imaginary being had her brother in a panicked state. "He is a fairytale made up to scare children into eating their vegetables." She chuckled, disregarding the possibility Silas was a threat or even real. Generally, I would have rejected the idea of a creature being more powerful than the Originals given they were what we knew to be the first unnatural, magical creation. Although, the glaze over Kol's eyes convinced me Silas was to be noted.

Exhaling, I decided it was my responsibility to the ask one million dollar question. "But, who is Silas, really?" I prodded, wondering why the gritty parts of Silas were being glossed over — his purpose, his motives, his story.

Zooming towards me, Kol's chest soon found itself pressed against mine, his eyes alight with determination. "An immortal being that will cause Hell on Earth if he is awakened." He answered, his hands gliding to rest on either side of my face to focus my gaze on him. "And I just happen to like Earth exactly how it is." He chirped, our bodies being abruptly jolted apart after he caught the distortion of his reflection in the necklace hanging around my neck.

"Not for long." Professor Shane corrected the vampire. "Silas is very real. I know where he's buried, and soon I will have the spell that wakes him." He proclaimed, a radiance surrounding him as his face illuminated up like Christmas lights.

"Wait a second, you're lying." Kol accused, leaving my side to stand shoulder to shoulder with Professor Shane. "You can't get to him." He declared, repressing a relieved cackle. After spending a vast amount of time with witches, he knew the legend by heart and knew the madman before us couldn't get to Silas without a trio of sacrifices amongst other elements.

Professor Shane pretended to be baffled, cocking his head to the left. "Without his tombstone? Dozens to die in a blood sacrifice? Believe me, I know. I've done it. Those massacres are a pain to engineer." With a deep sigh, he listed off the means he exhausted to execute the rise of Silas.

Rebekah scrutinised the human with a critical once over. "You're the one who got the council blown up." She realised, a sweep of terror passing over her expression, to which she masked with a pinched look.

"It was a noble sacrifice and temporary, because once I raise Silas, Silas will raise the dead." Professor Shane defended himself, engrossed in the thought of this immortal raising the dead. And to me, it was disconcerting to be reminded of the fragile divide between life and death. "He will bring back every last soul who died on his behalf." Atticus furthered without conceivable evidence.

Not even faltering, Kol snatched a rusted, metal pipe from the ground and rammed it through Shane's torso. He was beyond angry — he was incensed. When Kol Mikaelson was incensed, he tended to lose control as his moral compass was unreliable in such dizzying situations. On a few occasions, I had been a victim to his blind and bloody rage.

Flicking her cat eyes towards me, the female Mikaelson clicked her tongue. "I think it's time for you leave, Lottie." She recommended quietly. It was a deadly quiet, one that told me it was more of a command than a friendly counsel.

"No, stay." Kol instructed, outstretching his crimson stained hand towards me. Pursing my lips, I looked at the blood on his hands with uncertainty. "That's if you believe me. You do believe me, don't you, darling?" He wanted reassurance, a rarity for the man I always knew to be an overconfident charmer.

"I want the cure." I stated. "But, I believe you. I've never saw you as defensive as you are now and you've been around a long time, I believe you know what is worth fearing." I chose my words carefully, not wanting to offend the vampire by implying he was a coward. "I'll drop my hopes for it and . . . I'm here now. I'm here for you, I'll help you in any way that I can." I promised, recalling how much he had helped me lately. He found Davina, it was only fair to return the favour. Although I was uncomfortable saying too much in front of his sister, I prayed he understood the underlying meaning of 'I'm here now.'

Rebekah gave me a sarcastic round of applause. "Your little speech was endearing — truly. But, I want a word with my brother. Alone." She urged me towards the door.

On the way out, Kol caught my wrist, pulling me into his arms so his lips were hovering near my ear. "You're here and I won't let you go anywhere." He muttered lowly. "Hell won't come to Earth and you won't go to Hell, I'll fix this." He reiterated what he said at The Grill a few days ago.

I smiled, bumping our shoulders as I walked out of the custodial closet. Without realising, I had put my faith in him — a fear of mine from the beginning. But, it was a needed faith, needed to save my friends from their downfall and him from further isolation. I was in no man's land in a war, loyal to both my past and present, thanking God that vampires heal from bullet wounds.

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A.N: Happy December guys! We had more Lottie and Kol interaction this chapter and Lottie finally decided what she wants after two books. Shame Rebekah was there to prevent them having a moment. She's definitely been ignored by the group when it comes to the hunt for the cure and Silas, so it's nice to finally have her involved in that plot.

What are your plans this Christmas? If you celebrate, of course.