Anemoia • Mikaelsons mate

Chapter 11

• • • New Orleans, present-day • • •

"What are you doing?" Florence looks up in alarm as Kaleb suddenly shoots up from his chair, nearly tripping over his own feet as he hurries to grab the nearest stack of books, carelessly stuffing them in his backpack.

"We have to talk to an acquaintance of mine." Kaleb replies.

"Why?" Florence looks on with an alarmed expression as she watches Kaleb accidentally crease some very rare documents. She was certain he would receive a fine if someone caught him. Kaleb's current behavior was in stark contrast to his calm demeanor from five minutes ago when she told him about her vivid dreams starring the Mikaelsons. But perhaps she had misinterpreted his composure and it has been astonishment instead.

"Because she might be able to help us solve your enigmatic situation." Kaleb slings the heavy bag over his shoulder before grabbing Florence's arm, pulling her towards the exit. "Or at least clear some things up."

"You know, this feels an awful lot like kidnapping." Florence mutters, disregarding the way Kaleb referred to her problem as theirs instead.

Though Kaleb's grip wasn't painful or uncomfortable, it was firm enough to pull her along if she didn't hurry. Florence could have protested or asked one of the staff for help, but since she's been conversing with vampires for the past few days, she assumed the warlock would be reasonably safe, no matter how erratic his mood might be.

"Don't be silly, Florence. We are going on a spontaneous adventure." Kaleb smiles whilst swinging the door of the library open with great enthusiasm, nearly hitting another visitor.

Florence smiles kindly at the grumpy-looking man that had been inconvenienced by Kaleb's carelessness, before scowling at the back of Kaleb's head. "That's what a kidnapper would say before dragging their victim into a van."

Kaleb shoots Florence a smirk over his shoulder, before pulling her into an alleyway. "It's a good thing I don't own a van."

"Great, that resolves all my concern at once." Florence deadpans, eyeing the trash-littered alley with a hint of disdain.

"I'm so glad we're friends." Kaleb agrees, grinning down at Florence, who was putting in quite some effort to keep up with him.

"Oh, you have already decided we went from aspiring friends to a confirmed friendship?" Florence inquires, nearly bumping into Kaleb, who had come to a halt.

"Someone had to make the call, I decided I was that person." Kaleb takes the backpack off his shoulders and flings it over the wire fence. Wincing a little as the book-filled bag hits the ground with a loud thud.

"You are far too confident for your own good."

Kaleb grins boyishly at her. "Thank you, this is the third time someone has notified me of this fact."

"Third?" With raised eyebrows, Florence looks up at Kaleb's joyful expression, not fully understanding why he seemed so pleased at the moment.

"Sorry, you are evidently not the only person with great observational skills." Kaleb teases.

"Such a pity that is." Florence mutters under her breath

"Yes." Kaleb sighs, feigning a pitying expression. "It's a good thing you have other talents."

"Like what?"

"Picking fantastic friends, of course. I mean, I'm not fully impressed with your acquaintance with Marcel, but mistakes get made." Kaleb looks down at his shoes before remembering that Florence was still on the other side of the fence. "Are you coming or what?"