Bring Me To Life | The Originals (1)

You Might've Won the Battle, But Not the Entire War

"Come on, pretty girl." He whispered helplessly as he allowed his vampire visage to appear and then he bit down on his own wrist with an audible crunch echoing in the near silent night air. Blood poured from the wound as he lifted Imogen's head to cradle her body to his chest and he pressed his wrist into her mouth as he used his free hand to massage her throat, manually forcing her to swallow as much of the blood as possible. "Come on, pretty girl. Drink up, honey."

A small moan escaped the witch as her eyelids fluttered open with difficulty and her blue eyes were unfocused as she weakly tried to move away from the arm in front of her mouth.

"Hey, hey, hey. Relax. I got you. I got you." Marcel murmured softly as he soothed her brunette hair back gently and removed his wrist from her mouth as she made a vague sound in the back of her throat. A relieved sigh escaped him as he focused on the sound of her heartbeat getting stronger with each passing second and his dark brown eyes locked on the scarlet red blood staining her slightly parted lips as she breathed labouredly. Her cheeks were ashen as her eyelids fluttered closed, falling into an unconscious state and he stroked her cheek with his fingertips as he held her against his chest like she was the most precious gem in the world.

Once he was completely positive that Imogen was healed, he carefully lifted her into his arms in a bridal hold as he stood up from the ground. The glass shards crunched underneath his feet as he tucked her head in the crook of his neck and he inhaled her familiar vanilla perfume that was so unique to her in reassurance that she was safe in his arms. He shifted her body into a more comfortable position before he used his vampire speed to run to The Abattoir and he easily avoided running into anyone who would ask question as he took her straight to the guest room she had claimed as her own.

"Here we go, pretty girl." He whispered to her as he gently placed her down on the large bed and her head lolled to the side in her sleep as her brunette hair fanned out around her like a halo. The heavy feeling in his chest was starting to slowly alleviate as he perched on the edge of the bed and watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. He reached out to gingerly rub his thumb over her lower lip, taking away the remains of his blood and she moaned in her sleep as he sucked the blood off of his thumb.

Now that he was sure that Imogen was going to be okay once she woke up, the concern that had settled in the pit of his stomach was starting to morph into rage. How dare someone hurt Imogen? She was under his protection, under the Originals protection, so who would be stupid enough to lay a hand on her? Was it Celeste trying to finish the job she had failed to do in the fire earlier that night? Was it the witches trying to get revenge on her for stopping the original Harvest Ritual? Or someone trying to weaken the vampire's hold on New Orleans by taking out one of their most valuable players?

The sound of his cell phone ringing knocked him out of his thoughts and his gaze immediately went to Imogen's face to make sure the noise didn't wake her up as he reached for his phone. He glanced at the caller ID with a sigh as he stood up from the edge of the bed and he wandered over to the opened doors that led to the balcony overlooking the street below as he pressed the accept button on the screen, "Diego, hey. Find anything?"

"You're not gonna like it." The vampire on the other end of the phone call answered warily and Marcel raised an eyebrow in question even though Diego couldn't see him as he leaned against the railing. "Me and some of the guys ran into a group of witches when we were patrolling. They were collecting the remains of one of theirs."

"Who?" the former king asked sharply as he looked over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom, a mixture of concern for the unconscious woman inside and confusion over what exactly had occurred causing him to frown.

"That's the part you're not going to like. It was Sophie Deveraux."

"Damn it!"

"I thought you'd want to know."