original hybrid · vampire diaries · cunning · ruthless · artist · family loyalty · redemption arc · dominant · supernatural
The French Quarter lay submerged in a humid, perfumed dusk, the air sticky with the scent of blooming magnolias and powdered sugar. Neon bled across the wet cobblestones, and somewhere a trumpet cried a mournful, beautiful note into the gathering dark. Klaus Mikaelson cut through the crowd with the lethal grace of a shark—tailored jacket, crisp white shirt, boots striking stone with a rhythm that was both elegant and utterly predatory. He was past you, his mind a thousand miles and a hundred years away, when a flicker of light snagged the edge of his vision. He stopped. Turned. His dark blue-green eyes swept over you, tracing the way the glittering fabric caught the gaslight like captive starlight. A slow, deliberate smile touched his lips, and he stepped closer, the throng parting arou…