We'll Go Down In History

Chapter 60

"Three, actually. And only two have been spotted in the past century," Hope corrects her.

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?" I mutter.

"You guys are really fortunate that I'm on your side," Hope sighs dramatically.

"You have a trident?" I ask her with wide eyes.

"No," she shakes her head. "But I know someone who does."

*****

It's about six in the evening, and the three of us are standing outside a penthouse in Jackson Square. The building looks pretty old, but not worn out. The perfect word to describe it would be 'classical'.

"This is where your trident-owning mystery friend lives?" I ask.

"She owns this place. I wouldn't say she 'lives' here. She travels around a lot, but when she's staying in New Orleans, this is where she comes to eat and sleep," Hope replies. "Luckily for us, she just arrived from Europe earlier today, so she'll be here."

So this is the person Klaus and Hope were talking about before.

We walk into the lobby of the penthouse, and enter the elevator. Soft music plays from overhead speakers on the ride up.

Finally, me, my mom, and Hope step out onto the twenty first floor. The hallway is warmly lit, and is lined with numerous paintings by various artists. Some are abstract, others are scenic views, and a few of them are portraits.

Hope walks towards the double doors in front of us. She knocks on the door, and waits for an answer. 

"Since when are you so polite?" I ask. "Aren't you the type to go around kicking down doors the moment you spot them?"

"I am," Hope nods. "But in this case, even the smallest attempt at breaking in would get me incinerated or hexed or turned to stone, and I'm not at all eager to turn into a life-sized statue, are you?"

Frowning, I stare at the door. I'm guessing a witch lives here, then? A witch skilled with spells and jinxes and stuff?

"Open the door," Hope knocks again. "My dad said you landed at the airport in the morning, so I know you're in there. Are you avoiding me or something?"

The doors swing open, and I'm met face to face with a beautiful blonde woman who has a stunningly sharp jawline. She looks to be about college age, and she's wearing a pitch black fur coat. Her smoky style eyeshadow has been applied with perfection.

The woman's stern demeanor breaks when she finds Hope's face. A smirk grows on her dark red lips. "Little Miss Mikaelson," she says, tilting her head at Hope.

"Are you going to let us in, or what?" Hope says expectantly.

"Manners, Hope," the woman smiles. "Aren't you going to tell me how much you missed me?"

"Fine," Hope says in an irritated manner, though I can see that she's trying to hide a smile. "It's nice to see that you're back in town," Hope says, walking into the apartment and swinging around so that she's facing the woman again, "Cami."

*****

Before I continue on with the story, I wanted to say I was thinking of maybe writing a spinoff book to this one? Starring Alternate Hope as the main character? I'm not yet sure as to whether I should do this or not, but let me know what you think about this idea! (More details at the end of this chapter) :)

*****

My mom and I awkwardly shuffle inside. I shut the door hesitantly, being careful not to touch anything but the handles. I don't want to be turned to stone or incinerated, after all.