I'm updating this a lot. Aha, I like how I'm either overly punctual or Queen Procrastinator.

But better this way, right? So this was actually fun. This involved a bit of research! Places in this chapter are named after actual places, streets, and city sectors!

Please vote and/or review.

Now for the chapter. :)

____________________________________________________________

The rain that poured through the ceiling mixed with my blood and sent scarlet rivers down my back and arms. I felt the trembling of my entire body, my hands clasped so tightly that my nails bit into my palms. The pain in my back was dulling as the skin knit back together, but I still continued to shiver in the frigid air.

I couldn't recall ever being so cold.

"He's going....to kill you," I rasped through chattering teeth, trying to lift my head. It was as if someone had put a weight inside it and after struggling, I just let it droop.

I heard the man's footsteps come nearer, catching the toe of his black shoes from the corner of my eye. "I have little doubt he won't put in that effort," he agree. "But you see, I want that rage. Because It makes a person reckless. And careless. In fact," he bent down on his knees so his face appeared in front of me, his eyes as dark as coal. "A vampire consumed by rage is the equivalent of a vampire without emotions at all."

"Well then prepare to have that little theory proven."

"You think I'll just tell Klaus where I'm keeping you?" The man asked, genuine surprise in his voice. It turned derisive. "My, you're very quick to overestimate his capabilities but underestimate his affections. I can see why he's so drawn to you. You're quite maddening to comprehend."

If I could have lifted my shoulders, I would have shrugged. I settled for a glare instead. "I'm pretty sure vampires are immune to Stockholm Syndrome. So I'd appreciate it if you could quit treating me like your pet."

He smiled, showing off those model teeth again. "Aren't you even curious as to who I am?"

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, I'm really not interested. All I need to know is that you're a melodramatic, egotistical vampire who's bent on control and power and who has officially ruined his Oxford shoes."

His eyes drifted once to his feet before leveling with mine again. That smile transformed into a grin. "My name is Aindreas. Aindreas Macintyre."

"Great," I said, looking away from him as I couldn't keep my head in that position any longer. "Kind of a mouthful. Forms and documents must be a pain to sign."

"It's Scottish."

"That doesn't make it any more interesting. Oh, and quick bit of advice: I wouldn't be so eager to give that out. It makes it very easy to track down everyone you care about and knowing Klaus, well, I'd suggest you say your goodbyes relatively soon."

In my peripheral vision, the man,- Aindreas,- just shook his head. "No issues there. I have no one left to have threatened."

"Aw, how sad," I leaked as much mock sympathy I could into my voice. "I'd nearly taken you as a father figure. Oh wait, my dad actually did torture me, so there's quite a few similarities there."

He studied my face, as is trying to read my expressions, and For a moment, I wondered what he found there. His lips pulled downward, almost is sadness. "How unfortunate."

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" I asked, my tone sharp. "I'm a sorrow magnet."

Aindreas paused for a moment, as if silently deliberating on something. Then he flicked his wrist back, and looked at the watch he wore there. "It's about time to send our next message. Have you healed yet?"

"Does it matter?"

"We wouldn't want to accidentally kill you," he mused, motioning to one of his vampires. I felt her come around and secure the bindings once more, pursing my lips as she yanked my sore arms forward.

"Nope," I said, a bitter smile playing on my lips as the cuts on my back reopened. "We wouldn't want that."

_____________________________________________________________________

KLAUS

Klaus was on fire. Or at least, his insides were. Everything in him was shouting and he didn't even try to to control it. He let his anger consume him, accompanied by thoughts of Caroline, hurting and in pain. The vivid images flashed through his mind, each one lacerating him further until he was sure he'd bleed. But the worst thing was the feeling of helplessness that followed it.

This was his fault; letting her go, not keeping her in his line of sight at all times. And now she had been forced into another man's search for power, victimized by someone who was after him. It was her convenience alone that was keeping her alive.

His fist connected with the wall again, against the one he'd smashed the recorder on, its remains littered across the ground. Klaus turned around, running a hand through his hair. He had to think; to focus. There had to be something he was missing. Caroline had already been gone for an hour, which didn't leave enough time for her kidnapper to completely leave town and simultaneously deliver his message. So she still had to be within city limits.

Klaus inhaled through his nose, past the steady rage that was wedging itself between his reason and actions, severing logic from desire. He would find this man; he would track him down and make him pay. This person would regret with his entire being ever crossing paths with Niklaus Mikaelson.

But that still didn't help him deduce where the man keeping Caroline was.

"Proof that I mean business."

Klaus flinched, glaring down at the shattered recorder, imagining it was the man, broken there instead.

"You really should keep a better eye on the things you care about."

Klaus hated that he had his enemy pointing out the core of his guilt, and hated it even more at how right he was.

"I have a few....terms for him to meet," the man's voice repeated inside his mind, followed by Caroline's. "And then you'll let me go?"

"Then I'll let you live."

What came after was the sound of that hideous whip and the resounding echo of her pain blazed a line of focus in Klaus's mind. He felt his hands clench with bone crushing force as he tried to think past the memory of that man hurting her, suddenly regretting breaking the only lead he'd had.

"This woman is my leverage," he thought back, "and if you do not comply with my wishes, I will kill her."

"I will kill her."

"Or it's another grave dug."

Klaus slouched against the wall, as if his anger and fear were too heavy for his shoulders to bear. He tried to block out the clarity of her scream but it broke through, and he rested his head in his hands.

Another grave dug.

Klaus stilled. He felt his entire body freeze, playing Caroline's words in a mental loop, like a skipping CD.

He glanced up, back at the broken device. Klaus pushed forward and bent to the recorder, picking up the fragment effaced with the button on it. Another grave dug? Was she referring to 'another' as those she'd already killed? Or was it just metaphorical?

His breathing felt heavy as he attempted to view it from every possible angle. Maybe it was nothing. A simple expression Caroline had used. A meaningless, cosmic joke she'd inserted.

Or perhaps it was a clue, telling him she was being held in a place with graves.

Klaus reacted instantly, leaving behind the alleyway and cutting through the town to the French Quarter. It was within walking distance of St. Louis Cemetary and he watched it materialize through the rain the closer he got. It was the largest cemetary in New Orleans, the land mass hidden beneath white tombs engraved in delicate, unique sculptures and names carved elegantly into the faces of them, all steepled to the sky. It was a big tourist attraction but it was barren now, and he found himself alone with the dead.

Klaus tried to tune into every noise surrounding him; he could make out the hollowed noise the rain made on the rooves of each tomb; the water snaking to the path that split down the graveyard. He caught the distance sound of a gate, creaking with weather and age, but nothing else. Just to make sure, he scouted the entirety of the cemetary, only leaving when he assured himself she wasn't there. His disappointment fell flat and empty, and the pain in his chest intensified.

Before he allowed his focus to drift, he sped to the next graveyard, known as Cypress Grove. This one was smaller but it still held the same antic beauty, its tombs almost resembling a small city. He wove through the isles of the deceased, listening in once more. Again, the cemetary was empty, devoid of anything living.

The disappointment doubled and Klaus stopped. Maybe he was just wasting time. This man who'd taken Caroline could be trying to contact him to let him know his terms. If he didn't respond in time....

But Klaus felt something. Whether it was instinct or the final severance of logic from action, he ran to the third cemetery on Canal Bullivard.

Also empty.

He growled in desperation, resisting the urge to deface someone's tomb. He didn't allow himself to pause a second time and kept going, through Hebrew Rest at Frenchman, to Lafayette on Washington, searching Holt Cemetary on Park Avenue and ending at St. Roch.

After he'd circled back to the entrance, crushed again with disappointment, he didn't try to suppress his anger and broke the door off a burial sight.

"My apologies, Mate," Klaus snapped, after he'd cast it aside, fragmenting a neighboring tomb.

There, he sat on the stone steps of it, biting his lip until it bled. He grasped his hands together, thinking through his rising panic. Perhaps it was just something meaningless Caroline said. He was reading into empty hope, staring at a dry glass he willed to fill with water.

The truth was that Klaus was just wasting time. He wasn't assisting Caroline, but instead pulling innuendos from open air.

What he needed was to do something. But apparently, that was to wait around for the man's next message, which would undoubtedly cost Caroline more pain and Klaus....

Klaus could do nothing.

He stood, tightening his coat around himself. It did little to keep the chill away, as if it had made its way inside of him and frozen over.

But with each step he took toward the city, his resolve grew, emblazoned in his own fury. This man was playing a dangerous game, and against his instincts, Klaus went along with it.

He'd play until the opportunity presented itself.

Until her captor was reduced to nothing more than the bones he left behind.