The Beautiful and the Faultless | Cami O'Connell

Chapter 2

She was currently scanning the citizens of New Orleans, making note of who stood out the least, to prepare them for her kenning spell, a version a tad more specific than Dahlia's. While her aunt (and her, as well) could easily take control of a massive group of people at will, Ingrid had developed a kenning spell that would allow her to take control of proxies for long periods of time. She could peek into them whenever she wanted, from wherever she wanted, even several hours away. In Dahlia's case, she needed to be close by to monitor her proxies, and once someone from that group left the kenning perimeter, she wouldn't be able to control them again unless she marked them.

"Not the vendor," she hummed to herself, taking a sip of the coffee she'd purchased. "She's too charismatic. In a crowd, she will stand out, and my cousins are unfortunately good at picking suspicious individuals out of a group."

She glanced at a woman holding a hat out, asking for money. "Not her, either. They're rich. Elijah likely donates to everyone he sees on the street."

She turned the other way, catching sight of a photographer, who everyone was ignoring as he snapped pictures of different shop signs. "Him," she said, smiling wickedly. "No one will question someone with a camera even if they're looking around quite a bit. They'll simply think he's a student."

She passed by the man, bumping into him and murmuring her spell under her breath, marking him on contact. He just looked at her strangely, likely wondering why she couldn't watch her step. She winked, and he brushed it off with a smile.

Again, the ringing in her ears began, and she ducked into a nearby alleyway to answer Dahlia's call. "Tante," she said a bit more impatiently. "I cannot make progress if you are constantly interrupting me."

"There's been a change of plans," she said. "I will join you in New Orleans tonight."

"Why?" she asked, crossing her arms and glaring at her. "You said you would give me time to do this alone."

"The sister's host is fighting back," said Dahlia. "Freya, of course, will help her out of desperation to be seen as an asset to her family. We cannot wait any longer. If Niklaus accepts her help, they may abscond with the child. If Freya cloaks her, it will be far more difficult to find her."

Ingrid rolled her eyes. "I am stronger than Freya will ever be. I could easily break through any Cloaking Spell she places on the child. Let me remind you, Tante, I was the one who located her twice in the past."

"You are also the one who lost her," snapped Dahlia. "You may be stronger, but she is no longer alone. The sister is in a witch's body, and she could begin to channel her at any moment. I will not stand for failure. We will make our move now. You had a day to learn about them, and you learned nothing. I will arrive at your apartment tonight."

Ingrid exited the vision, rolling her eyes once again to herself. Dahlia was always like this. Selfish and changing her mind when it suited her, not caring if it inconvenienced anybody else. Ingrid had insisted that it was better to play it smart, to leave the Mikaelsons thinking that they weren't going to show up, to take the time to learn about them, find out every last weakness, and exploit it. But Dahlia preferred direct, quick, and lethal attacks, even if it meant they wouldn't know enough about the family dynamic to have a true advantage over them. Ingrid knew it would be her downfall.

She chose to observe them from afar anyway. Using the one man that she'd already prepared for the spell, she sat in the alley, out of view from the pedestrians, and hummed, closing her eyes for a moment before they snapped open again on their own.

This time, she was seeing through the eyes of the photographer. She had him walk down the street, heading toward the Compound. On the way, he passed Rousseau's, and she made him stop to look inside, where Cami was cleaning glasses behind the bar.