R-r-running out of time
I really thought you were on my side
But now there's nobody by my side

I need you, I need you, I need you right now
Yeah, I need you right now
So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down
I think I'm losing my mind now
It's in my head, darling I hope
That you'll be here, when I need you the most
So don't let me, don't let me, don't let me down
D-Don't let me down

The Chainsmokers - Don't Let Me Down (Audio) ft. Daya

A whisper of smoke, as silent as the night, appeared out of seemingly nothing. There was no acknowledgement of her sudden appearance in this dark dank place, as that smoke transformed into a curvaceous womanly figure wrapped up in a tight midnight blue knit dress, strawberry blonde locks falling in a cascade down to the small of her back. Caroline leaned against the wall, her arms folded. Crossing her ankles, her six inch gold heels accentuating her long tanned legs, as she tried to appear as nondescript as possible. Her mother said that she had to attend. Liz had said nothing about her participating in this impromptu meeting. But as always, heads turned, gazes trained their attention on her. "Pretty little princess" they sneered, their voices a mere whisper, but Caroline could hear the tremor of fear. Their defiance was hilarious.

If only they knew that their lives hung in balance. That the reason why Caroline's vote had always been the deciding one since she turned the delicate age of sixteen, wasn't because she was her mother's sole heir. It wasn't because of her family's money, the clout they held. Or even that generation after generation of Forbes women held the helm of what was left of their fragile demonarchy. It was, despite of Caroline's angelic appearance, because she had teeth and claws and an unending desire to make things bleed... scream.

Caroline sighed, kicking off the wall to ascend up the few stairs to where her mother's throne sat. Hers did as well, on her mother's right hand side. She avoided both her designated seat, as she always did, and her mother's penetrating gaze, before taking a seat next to Stefan where he sat on the bench with Liz's most trusted advisers. It was a fallacy in truth. Stefan, his brother Damon, and a handful of others, were blood bound to serve her and her mother, as their ancestors before them had been bound to do the same. Trust had nothing to do with it. The world Caroline had grown up in proved that power was everything. Only the strongest survived. Some inherited it, whilst others were born with something those in their caste were not and climbed to the top.

Caroline inherited quite a bit. But being the next Forbes in line wasn't what made her feared even among her mother's adversaries. It was because at the age of twenty one, Caroline had built herself quite a reputation. She wasn't content with just having what was hers by right. She wanted more. Ruling over one demon plane was a tad bit boring. And with abilities like hers... the power to do things that got even Liz Forbes tensed and ready to attack, made Caroline feel quite powerful indeed.

Her mother had started talking again. Droning on and on about some preemptive strike taken by a rogue angelic army. Nothing new there. Those damned angels couldn't just mind their own business. The first time Caroline had seen one of the ethereal creatures was when her mother was carefully cutting it's wings off with a blunt edged knife. How the pitiful thing had bawled, crying out in a foreign language, its face turned up to the sky. It was pathetic. Caroline was four at the time. As the years went by, Caroline had made an acquaintance with a wide variety of creatures. She knew the languages they spoke and the Gods they begged for mercy and the sounds of their screams. But there was always something about the angels... they were perfection incarnate. Something about them called to her on a basic primary level.

Caroline heard the gate to the cellars being dragged open, the iron making a loud grating sound. So this was the point of the meeting. For her mother's conquest against the rivals to be put on display before they were gutted. Maybe this time her mother would actually let her participate in spilling angel blood. In hindsight, maybe she should have sat on her throne but she easily dismissed the idea of ever doing as she was told.

The angels were roughly pulled through the hoard of rowdy demons to be brought before their knees infront of the steps. They had burlap sacks over their heads. They were chained in angel wire. An expensive and extremely rare commodity and allegedly the only metal in existence that an angel couldn't escape from. Caroline spared her mother a curious glance, to which Liz smiled as if pleased. The angels were battered and bruised, three of the four had at least one wing mangled. At her side, Caroline felt Stefan tense, although it was almost an imperceptible change. It was then Caroline noticed. Their wings weren't just white and silver. There were flecks of gold. The clothing they wore weren't the typical soldier's garb. These angels were dripping in gold and diamonds.

Before the sacks were pulled off their heads, and penetrating gazes so full of intent were aimed at her, Caroline knew.

Golden eyes, filled with flecks of blue.

"Archangels" Caroline breathed, the sound of her voice immediately cutting through the uproar, silence filling in its wake.

A chilling smile, slowly spread across her face.