Chapter 50

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They watched Lucien address Elijah from atop the bar's balcony.

"Such a treat, being in New Orleans this time of year," said Lucien casually. "But, alas, for all today's talent, nothing quite compares with watching Ella and Louis perform live."

"Yes, what a wonderful world that was," said Elijah sarcastically. "Give me my brother before your world becomes significantly less wonderful."

Lucien pursed his lips. "Mmm, I'm afraid I need something from you, first. A brother for a brother, as it were."

"Let me guess," Elijah replied, "your fantasy sweetheart wants her beloved Tristan back?"

"Hmm. Or your death, to relieve his suffering. So, either tell me how to find him, or I'll kill you. Where is Tristan de Martel?"

Elijah did not answer. Behind her, Beatrix sensed the Strix were tittering a bit, likely to see if he'd concede or not.

Lucien got impatient rather quickly. "Elijah, I've asked you a rather important question. Given our current circumstance, you'd be wise not to test my patience. So... Tristan's resting place...?"

Elijah acted as though he hadn't heard him. "You carefully craft yourself into this abomination purely to become... an errand boy to that banshee?"

Beatrix smirked as Lucien chuckled. "Oh, you Mikaelsons. Your arrogance truly knows no bounds. Do I need to remind you the prophecy is on my side? Your family is doomed. So, if you'll give me Tristan's location, at least I could make your death quick."

Elijah shrugged. "I have no idea where he is. But you know, Lucien, the thing is that I suspect you don't even really care."

Lucien mimicked his shrug. "Mmm. I never really liked him. But, at least I can tell Aurora I tried."

He lunged at Elijah, who dodged quickly and attempted to strike, though it was difficult to do so without putting himself in immediate danger of being bitten.

"You give me my brother," Elijah panted as he stepped back. "I won't ask again."

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Please, Elijah. Know when you're beaten." He stood up straighter, and his irises glowed red. Freya tensed, since he was standing near where they'd put the sigil. He strode toward Elijah and stepped right into the hot zone, the burning of the sigil removing its cloaking and keeping him from progressing further. He let out a roar of agony and dropped to his knees, and Freya walked into the room, the Strix and Beatrix still cloaked behind.

"Oh," she said with fake sympathy, "That looks like it hurts. That's what I was going for."

"What... did you do to me?" Lucien groaned as he tried to claw his way out, to no avail.

"The sigil will bind you," she answered simply. "Weaken you. The boiling blood, I added myself. Maybe I can't kill you, but I can make you wish you were dead."

He grunted and tried to push against the invisible borders, but didn' manage to do anything. He chose, instead, to stop fighting it, and got to his feet. "Whew!" he said, apparently not feeling any more pain. "Well, I admit, Freya, this is a truly valiant effort. Inspired, I assume, by your grief over Finn's demise?"

Freya sneered angrily and thrust her hand toward him, making him moan in pain, grabbing his head as he sank back to his knees.

"Pop goes the weasel!" he growled, trying to fight it. "Oh! A rather potent aneurysm spell. You never fail to impress."

"Oh, I have all kinds of tricks," she snarled. "We even brought an audience to enjoy the show!"

The Strix took that to be the signal, since Beatrix stepped in, and they all flooded into the room, surrounding Lucien and sneering menacingly at him.

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