Chapter 6
Santana had never really been one to take direction well, especially from a stranger. But here she was, in New Orleans, under the tutelage of Kol Mikaelson; one of the most infamous vampires in the world. Not exactly a winning situation, but she wasn’t in a position to argue. She didn’t have anything else to do, and she’d come this far. She figured she might as well try to make it work.
Kol was all too eager to help her, but the way he carried himself made Santana feel like she was a little bit of a project. He didn’t say much about his past at first, just a few casual mentions of his ruthless reputation. Santana had always known Kol was dangerous, even when she’d first met him in New York, but the more he opened up about how he’d become the person he was, the more she realized he wasn’t just a killer with abs; he was a product of a broken family and emotions he could barely control.
The two of them were standing in a secluded courtyard of the estate. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow across the city, and the air was thick with the kind of tension that always existed before a fight. Santana couldn’t decide whether she was nervous or just annoyed at being here. Probably both.
“You’re still not using your strength correctly,” Kol said, his eyes narrowed with focus. “You’re stronger than you think, but you’re wasting it by not channeling your emotions properly.”
Santana crossed her arms and shot him a skeptical look. “Yeah, ‘cause my emotions are really something I want to deal with right now,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Kol smirked. “And yet, your emotions are exactly what you need to focus on. Being a vampire, it’s not just about the physical strength. It’s about control. You need to learn to harness your rage, your frustration, whatever it is that’s driving you, and turn it into something useful.”
Santana scoffed. “So you’re saying I should just bottle up my feelings and punch people with them?” She rolled her eyes. “Great. Like I don’t already do that.”
Kol chuckled, clearly amused. “Not bottle them up, no. But don’t just go lashing out randomly. You’re more dangerous than you know. The way you’re feeling right now, angry, lost; you’re letting it run wild, and it’s making you unpredictable. Uncontrolled. You’re lucky no one’s pissed you off enough to turn you into a problem yet.”
Santana’s brow furrowed, her arms tightening around her chest. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” she said, the bite in her voice sharp. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel all... this,” she waved her hands in the air. “Everything’s different now. And you can’t just snap your fingers and tell me how to feel.”
Kol didn’t flinch at her outburst. He’d dealt with far worse, and he knew better than to push her too hard. “I understand more than you think,” he said quietly. “I know exactly what it’s like to not be in control of yourself. My emotions have always been my greatest strength and my greatest weakness.”
Santana raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t strike me as the ‘feelings’ kind of guy. More like the ‘kill everyone in the room’ type.”
Kol’s lips curled into a wry smile, and he exhaled softly. “That was true once. I didn’t know how to handle my emotions, especially my resentment toward my siblings. I always felt like the black sheep of the family. Always trying to prove myself.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “But then I used my vampirism to vent my anger, my frustration. And, of course, that earned me a reputation for being ruthless. A serial killer, if you like. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.”
Santana stiffened at his words. She hadn’t exactly asked for a therapy session, but she was still listening. She couldn’t help it. There was something about Kol’s dark past that made her feel a little more connected to him. Like maybe he wasn’t so different from her.
The silence stretched between them for a moment before Davina appeared at the far end of the courtyard, quietly watching the two of them as Kol continued his lesson. The powerful witch hadn’t said much since Santana’s arrival, but it was clear she was just as sharp as Kol when it came to handling people. Santana didn’t mind her; she wasn’t the type to give anyone the benefit of the doubt, but Davina was an exception. Her calm demeanor was an anchor when Kol got too intense, and her magic was useful when things got a little out of hand.
“I didn’t always have control either,” Davina added softly, joining them. “I was a Harvest witch, a source of power that was supposed to be a gift. But I had no idea how to handle it. Like you, I bottled everything up, and it led me to make mistakes. It wasn’t until I stopped trying to bury my emotions that I was able to actually use my power for good. You don’t have to bottle up your anger, Santana. You just need to channel it. Control it.”
Santana glanced at her, her lips pressing together. “You really want me to control myself, huh?” she asked, the skepticism evident in her voice. “What, no more rage-fueled rampages?”
Kol let out a soft laugh, a dark chuckle that seemed to rumble in his chest. “Exactly. If you want to survive, you’ll need to learn to use it to your advantage. Vampirism heightens everything; your senses, your strength, and yes, your emotions. You’ll feel things more intensely than you ever did before. That’s part of the curse. It makes you moody, irritable... and if you don’t get a handle on it, you’ll burn yourself out.”
Santana gave a small, bitter laugh. “Moody? Yeah, that’s me. All moody, all the time. But I guess you already know that. I’m the queen of feeling everything too much.”
Kol’s gaze softened just for a moment. “I know what that feels like,” he said quietly. “When I was first turned, I didn’t know how to handle anything. Every emotion felt like a wave crashing into me. The anger, the grief... and it took a long time to learn how to deal with it. It’s not something that happens overnight. But you can learn to control it. You can choose how to use it.”
Santana looked down at her hands, the words sinking into her chest. It wasn’t easy to admit, but she had never really been in control of her emotions. It was something she’d always struggled with, everything from her anger at her family to her frustration with herself. Even now, being a vampire didn’t make it easier. If anything, it only made things harder.
“I don’t even know if I can control this,” Santana muttered under her breath, almost too quietly for anyone to hear. “It’s like I can’t stop myself from... being angry all the time.”
Davina’s voice was gentle but firm. “You don’t have to do it alone. It’s okay to ask for help, Santana. You’re not the only one who’s had trouble with their emotions.”
Kol smiled faintly, recognizing the subtle shift in Santana’s expression. He wasn’t sure if she’d fully understood the gravity of what he was saying, but he could tell she was starting to absorb it. The walls she’d built up were cracking, bit by bit.
“Kol?” Santana said, suddenly changing the subject. “You mentioned that your ancestors messed with your emotions during the spell to bring you back from the dead. What happened there?”
Kol’s smirk grew, and his eyes glinted with something dark, almost mischievous. “Ah, yes. They hijacked the spell and, well, I didn’t react well to the... emotional manipulation. I ended up doing something rather foolish. I killed Davina, actually.”
Santana’s eyes widened in shock. “You killed her?”
Kol chuckled. “Yes. But don’t worry, she came back. The ancestors didn’t quite know what they were doing when they messed with my emotions. But there you have it, being a vampire does strange things to a person.”
Santana blinked, trying to absorb the absurdity of the situation. “So, you’re telling me, you killed your wife, and she just came back? Like it was no big deal?”
Davina raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re catching on.”
Santana shook her head in disbelief. “I gotta say, you guys are way too casual about this whole ‘killing people’ thing. But hey, at least you didn’t kill me, right?”
Kol gave her a sly grin. “Not yet, at least.”
Santana snorted. “Yeah, I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”
As the evening wore on, Kol and Davina continued to work with Santana, guiding her through the complexities of controlling her vampire abilities. Santana’s snark never faltered, but beneath it all, there was a sense of progress; slow, steady, and painfully real.
She might not have everything figured out, but at least for the first time in a while, she wasn’t alone in this. She had Kol. She had Davina. And, though she hated to admit it, she was starting to see what it meant to really take control of her emotions, instead of letting them control her.