**STILES**
The gates to the compound were locked. Which was cute.
I mean, really cute. Like, adorable. Big, heavy, old wood and iron and a spell from Freya Mikaelson herself woven through it so tight it hummed. You could feel it if you listened. Most people can't listen. I can.
I knocked anyway. Politely. Three times.
No one answered, so I ripped them off the hinges.
The sound it made was fantastic. Like a really expensive history book being torn in half. Inside, dinner was happening. Of course dinner was happening. The Mikaelsons always do dinner when they're about to have a family argument. Long table, candles, wine that costs more than my first car. Klaus at the head, Elijah to his right looking like he was born in that suit, Freya with her hands already sparking, Hayley with a hand on her daughter's shoulder, and Hope.
Hope Mikaelson.
Okay. Pause. I had come to New Orleans for very simple reasons. Fun. Food. Freedom. Maybe rip a few assholes in half if they looked at me wrong. Beacon Hills got boring once everyone started looking at me like I was the thing under their bed. Scott with the alpha eyes and the disappointment. Derek with the growling. My dad with the... yeah, that one still stings a little. So I left. Embraced it. If you think I'm a monster, I'll show you a monster. It's easier that way.
I hadn't planned on her.
But there she was, sitting at that table in a black tank top, hair up, eyes already glowing a little because Freya's ward just got broken. Not a little girl. A woman. My age, maybe a little younger, power coming off her in waves that made my teeth ache. Tribrid. Cute.
Everyone stood up at once. Klaus moved so fast a human would have missed it. One second at the table, next second three inches from my face.
"Who the hell are you," he said, not a question. That accent. God, he really does sound like that in person.
I grinned. I can't help it. When people get scary, I get funny. It's a problem.
"Hi! I'm the guy who just ruined your door. You're welcome, it was ugly anyway. Very... haunted mansion chic, but make it pretentious. I'm Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. I'm new in town. Well, not new new. I've been here like, three weeks? I've been having a great time, actually. Your French Quarter has fantastic blood types. Very diverse menu. Ten out of ten, would feed again."
Elijah was next to him before I finished the sentence. That was faster.
"You entered a protected home," Elijah said. Calm. Deadly calm.
"Yeah, I felt that. Freya, right? Nice work. Really solid. Took me like, four seconds to siphon through it. No offense."
Freya's eyes narrowed. "You siphoned my barrier?"
"Siphoned, snapped, same difference." I held up my hand and let the leftover magic crackle over my knuckles. Blue-white. Hers. Then gold. Mine. Because I'm also a werewolf, which is where the gold comes from, and also an Original, but like... the upgrade. The one that doesn't die. Ever. Nothing kills me. I've tried. Trust me, I've tried. Stab me, burn me, rip my heart out, I just get up. It's annoying, honestly. Makes dramatic sacrifices really hard.
Klaus tilted his head, studying me. That smile started. The one that has ended cities.
"An Upgraded Original," he said softly. "And a wolf. And a siphoner. What a mongrel."
"Oh, wow. Mongrel. Original insult from the Original hybrid. Did you come up with that all by yourself or did you have your diary help you?"
His smile vanished. Good. I was getting bored of being polite.
"Let me explain why I'm here, since you're all looking at me like I'm about to monologue. Which I am, by the way. So. You people are monsters. Like, capital M monsters. Klaus Mikaelson, the killer who wanted to be a monster so bad he made himself one. Elijah, the honorable monster. Freya, the angry witch monster. Hayley, the queen wolf monster. And Hope, the baby monster who is apparently not a baby anymore."
I looked at Hope when I said it. She didn't flinch.
"I get it," I continued. "I really do. I woke up one day and I wasn't just Stiles anymore. I was this. Teeth, and hunger, and magic that doesn't belong to me until I take it, and a wolf that never shuts up. And my friends looked at me and they saw it before I did. They saw the monster. So I left. I didn't hurt them. I could have. I didn't. I just... left. And I came here because I heard this was where monsters come to have fun. And I was right! I've had so much fun. I've fed until my hands were shaking. I've torn people apart who thought they could take me in an alley. I don't care about them. I don't. I can't make myself care about the people I feed on. That's the monster part. That's honest."
I stepped closer to Klaus. He didn't move. He could smell it on me, that I wasn't lying, that I wasn't afraid of him.
"I'm here for one reason, Klaus. Because I'm bored. Time gets weird when you can't die. A couple months feels like a couple minutes and a couple minutes feels like a couple months and you start going a little crazy. So I thought, hey, let's go knock on the scariest family's door in New Orleans and see if they want to play. Maybe figure out what's wrong with my head while I'm at it."
Klaus laughed. Actually laughed.
"You come into my home, insult my family, and tell me you're bored?"
"Yeah. Also your door was ugly. I'm a man of many talents. Humor is one of them. Homicide is another."
That's when the Qetsiyah-level witches' bodyguards or whatever the fuck Klaus keeps around decided to be useful and dropped from the balcony. Four vampires. Old ones. Hissing.
I didn't even look.
One second they were in the air. The next my hand was in the chest of the first one, not his heart, lower, stomach, and I ripped sideways. R-rated. Blood everywhere, hot on my face, on Klaus's expensive rug. The second one got my teeth in his throat before he could scream. Feeding is loud when you don't bother to be quiet. The third I siphoned - just grabbed his neck and pulled the vampirism right out of his blood until he desiccated like a raisin. The fourth tried to run.
I let him get to the courtyard before I was in front of him.
"Where you going, buddy? We were just getting to know each other."
I broke his neck, then his spine, then his neck again for fun. He didn't get up.
Silence. Dripping.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and turned back to the table. Still grinning. Blood in my teeth.
"See? Monster. I told you."
**KLAUS**
In a thousand years, I have seen many things claim to be unkillable. Most of them were lying.
This boy was not lying.
I watched him kill four of my guards - guards who have survived wars - without breathing hard, while making a joke. His eyes had gone gold, then black with veins, then back to that ridiculous hazel. The scent of werewolf, vampire, and something else entirely, something that took magic and burned it as fuel.
An upgraded Original should not be able to siphon. An upgraded Original should not be a wolf. An upgraded Original should be dead, because I killed the last one myself.
And yet.
"You're a child," I said, because I needed to say something that wasn't *what are you*.
He snorted, blood still on his chin. "Oh my god, do all dads say that? You sound just like my dad. 'You're a child, Stiles.' Yeah, well, this child just redecorated your hallway with your security team. You're welcome."
Elijah put a hand on my arm. A warning. He was right. The boy's power was spiking every time he got angry, and he got angry quickly. Funny, then furious, then funny again. Unstable. Dangerous.
Freya stepped forward, hands up. "If you're a siphoner, you need a source. You took my ward. You took that vampire's immortality. What else can you take?"
Stiles looked at her and his grin softened, just a fraction. "Everything, if I want to. But I don't want to take from you. I like you. You look like you could actually kill me. That's hot. In a terrifying older sister way."
Hayley had moved in front of Hope without me noticing. Protective to the last. Hope pushed gently around her mother's arm.
"Stop," Hope said. Her voice was low. She wasn't scared. That intrigued me more than the boy. "If you wanted us dead, we'd be dead. You want something else."
Stiles looked at her then. Really looked. And for the first time since he tore my doors down, his face did something that wasn't a joke or a snarl.
It went quiet.
"Yeah," he said, quieter. "Maybe I do."
**HOPE**
He was covered in blood and he was still the most beautiful, terrible thing I'd ever seen.
Not beautiful like Elijah beautiful, all perfect manners. Beautiful like a car crash you can't look away from. He was my age, or close enough that it didn't matter. Lanky, but not anymore - whatever made him an Original had filled him out, muscle under that stupid Henley that was now ruined. Brown hair a mess, eyes that wouldn't stay one color. And he was funny. Even while killing, he was funny. That should have been disgusting. It wasn't.
When he looked at me, I felt it. My magic jumped. Like it recognized his. Siphoner. Of course. He could feel me too, I could tell by the way his nostrils flared and his eyes dropped to my neck, to my pulse.
"Don't," my mom said under her breath to me.
I ignored her.
"You feed," I said to him. Not a question.
He licked blood off his lip without thinking. "Yeah. I have to. Upgraded Original thing. The hunger never really goes away. Wolf makes it worse."
"So feed," I said.
The whole room went still. Klaus made a noise like a growl and a laugh.
"Hope—" Freya started.
"What? He said he doesn't care about the people he feeds on. So let him feed on someone who can handle it." I stepped forward, away from my mom's hand. "Can you handle it? Or are you scared you'll care?"
His eyes flashed gold. The wolf.
"Oh, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was rougher now, lower. "You have no idea what you're offering."
"Try me."
He moved. He was in front of me in a breath, one hand hovering just over my waist, not touching. Asking. Even in his monster moment, he was asking. That was the thing that got me. He said he didn't care, but he did. He cared if I said yes.
I nodded once.
He touched me then, and it was like touching a live wire. His hand was cold at first, then burning hot. He pulled me closer, not hard, and I could feel everyone watching, my family ready to tear him apart if I made a sound.
"You feel that?" he whispered, mouth against my temple, not my neck yet. "Your magic. It's loud."
"You're siphoning already, aren't you?"
"Can't help it. You're a fucking supernova."
He laughed, a little shaky this time. Not his joking laugh. A real one.
"Tell me to stop and I stop. I mean it. I don't care about them," he jerked his chin at the blood on the floor, "but I care if you tell me to stop."
"I won't."
"Liar," he said, but fondly, and then his teeth were in my neck.
It wasn't like being fed on by a vampire before. Vampires take. He took and gave back at the same time. The siphon pulled at my power, a tug low in my stomach that made my knees buckle, and the bite pulled at my blood, and his other hand came up to hold my hair back, gentle, so gentle compared to what he'd just done to four people.
I gasped, and it hurt, and then it didn't. It was hot, and too much, and my magic was pouring into him and he was shuddering against me, making a noise in his throat like he was trying not to come undone.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed against my skin, licking the bite closed immediately. Healing me with his blood in his spit, Original style. "Holy shit. Hope—"
My legs gave out. He caught me. Of course he caught me.
**STILES**
Okay. Okay, so. Plan was: come to New Orleans, have fun, be a monster, maybe get killed (spoiler: can't), be bored slightly less. Plan was NOT: meet a girl who tastes like pure power and starlight and has eyes that look right through all my bullshit and makes my dead heart do that weird thump thing again.
She was in my arms, breathing hard, blood on her neck where I'd closed the wound but not cleaned it, and her family was looking at me like they were deciding whether to kill me now or later. Klaus looked... delighted. Which is worse.
"Well," Klaus said, clapping slowly, blood still on his rug. "That was entertaining."
"Uncle Nik," Hope muttered, face in my shirt.
"What? I haven't seen someone feed from my daughter and live in quite some time. I'm feeling sentimental."
Hayley stepped forward and took Hope out of my arms. I let her. My hands were shaking. Not from hunger. From her. The siphon had given me more than power - it had given me a flash of her. Anger, loneliness, being the freak in a family of freaks. Being looked at like a weapon. Yeah, I know that one.
"You're staying," Elijah said to me. It wasn't a request.
I barked a laugh. "Oh, am I? You gonna put me in your dungeon? Very Fifty Shades, Elijah. I'm flattered, but I don't bottom."
Elijah stared.
"Okay, bad joke. Sorry. It's a defense mechanism. Also I'm hilarious, so..."
"You siphoned my niece," Freya said flatly.
"I asked!" I held up my hands. "She offered! Consent is sexy and important, Freya! Also I healed her! Look, no scar! I'm a gentleman monster!"
Hope, over her mom's shoulder, rolled her eyes but she was smiling. A little. Pale, but smiling.
"I felt you," she said to me.
"Yeah," I said, quieter. "Me too."
And that was the problem. I came here because I didn't care. I told myself I didn't care about anything anymore. Scott and Derek and Dad thinking I was too far gone, too dark, too hungry. So I left and I stopped caring about the people I fed on because it was easier. Because if you don't care, you can't get hurt.
But I cared if she was dizzy. I cared that Hayley was holding her like she might break. I cared that Klaus was looking at me like I was a new toy that might be his daughter's.
I can still love. I can still feel. I just don't feel it for the ones I kill. That's the deal I made with myself.
Now this girl was messing up the deal.
"One night," Hayley said to me, sharp. "You get one night in this city without us hunting you. You feed, you don't kill anyone who doesn't deserve it, and you stay away from my daughter."
"Mom—" Hope started.
"One night," I agreed quickly, because Hayley Marshall's mom-voice is scarier than Klaus. "No killing innocents. Only assholes. And I stay... over there." I pointed vaguely at the other side of the courtyard, away from Hope. "Far away. Very respectful distance. Like, ten feet. Twenty feet. You won't even know I'm here."
Klaus grinned. "Oh, he'll stay. Won't you, Stiles?"
I looked at Hope. She was looking at me, blood still on her neck, power still buzzing under her skin where I'd taken some. She didn't look away.
"Yeah," I said. "I'll stay."
Because I was still bored. Because I was still a monster. Because I still didn't care about the bodies in the hall.
But I cared about the way she said my name in her head when I bit her. Even if she didn't say it out loud.
*Stiles.*
Yeah. I'm fucked.
**HAYLEY**
He left when Elijah told him to, which surprised me. I expected a fight. Instead he just vaulted over the balcony like it was nothing, landed three stories down without a sound, and disappeared into the Quarter, still covered in my husband's guards' blood.
Hope swayed on her feet.
"Hey, hey," I caught her. "Look at me."
"I'm fine," she said. Too fast. "He didn't take much."
"He took enough that you almost passed out," Freya said, already scanning her with magic, hands glowing. "Your core is... depleted. He siphoned a lot."
"He asked," Hope said again, stubborn.
Klaus came up behind us, wiping blood off his shoe with a handkerchief like it was nothing. "Our new friend is powerful. Upgraded Original, wolf, siphoner. Can't die. Feeds and kills without remorse, except apparently when it comes to you, little wolf."
"He does feel," Hope said, quiet. "He's lying to himself. He thinks he doesn't care about anything, but he does."
I looked at my daughter. My grown daughter, who has seen more death than most armies, who was now looking at the spot where a boy who ripped four vampires apart had stood, with something soft in her eyes.
"Hope," I said carefully.
"I know," she said. "I know, Mom. He's dangerous."
"Good," Klaus said cheerfully. "Dangerous is interesting. Boring is dead. And he is definitely not boring."
From somewhere out in the city, maybe a block away, we heard a scream, then a laugh - that same manic, funny laugh - then silence.
Hope closed her eyes.
"He's feeding again," she whispered.
And she wasn't wrong.
**STILES**
The guy in the alley had a knife and a really bad attitude and was trying to mug a girl who was clearly a witch and clearly about to set him on fire anyway, so I figured I was doing everyone a favor.
I ate him. Not literally - though I could, wolf thing - but I drank. Fast, efficient, no romance like with Hope. He struggled, I didn't care. That's the truth. I didn't feel a single thing when his pulse stuttered out under my hand. No guilt, no thrill, just... full. Then empty again, because the hunger always comes back.
I dropped him, wiped my mouth, and looked at the witch girl.
"You're welcome," I said.
She stared at my bloody mouth and ran.
"You're welcome!" I shouted after her. Rude.
I leaned against the brick, breathing hard, tasting Hope still in the back of my throat under this guy's cheap beer blood. Her magic was still buzzing in my veins, gold and bright, making my own wolf pace.
I can still love. I can still care. I can still be funny and get angry and make stupid jokes when I'm scared.
I just don't care about them. The ones like this.
I looked down at the body, then up at the compound, where I could still feel her, like a beacon.
One night, Hayley said.
One night is plenty to get into trouble.
I grinned, blood on my teeth, and headed back toward the lights.
Let's see if the monsters want to have fun.