Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

CHAPTER SIX

"Ouch," Marcel said, chuckling into his glass. "What did he do to put you in a mood?" Henrik hummed and swirled the liquid in his glass.

"I tend not to like it when he doesn't trust me to make my own decisions," Henrik said, earning an exasperated sigh from Elijah. Henrik's eyes narrowed. Marcel glanced between the two of them, eyebrows slowly rising. He looked amused.

"I do trust you, Henrik," Elijah argued, earning an eye-roll from Henrik. "It's Tristan I don't trust." Henrik's mouth twisted. Elijah was acting like Henrik trusted Tristan, and the thought alone made his blood boil.

"Yes, Elijah," he said, sighing. "I know." He didn't say anything else, and their small group descended into uncomfortable silence. Marcel was the one to break it. He cleared his throat and nudged Henrik with his elbow.

"Please tell me you came over here to help me, and not to say goodbye?" he asked as a way of changing the subject. Henrik raised his eyebrows, and then he scoffed, nudging Marcel back.

"We're not saying goodbye in a very long time," he pointed out. Marcel shrugged, eyes going back to searching the crowd. Henrik watched him for a moment, thinking about drawing it out, but then he thought better of it. Instead, he smiled and said, "I know who will have the ring at dawn." Marcel's eyebrows shot up again. He shared a glance with Elijah as Henrik descended into silence. He grinned into his glass when Marcel let out a sound of exasperation.

"And?" he asked with a huff. "Also, you might want to lower your voice." He cast a suspicious glance around. Henrik's eyes went to Aya and Mohinder again. They were still dancing, but as Aya twirled under his arm, she caught Henrik's eye and flashed him a smile. Henrik's eyes narrowed.

"They won't change who it is," Henrik said, eyes following Aya until she disappeared in the crowd. More people were starting to dance. He pulled his eyes away and smiled at Marcel. "Tristan wants you in the Strix, Marcel. He wants you to win this." He motioned with his hand at Mohinder, who had reappeared, Aya now gone from his arm. "Mohinder will have the ring at dawn."

"Mohinder?" Elijah asked, straightening. "He'll destroy Marcel in a fight." Marcel cast him an irritated look.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he grumbled sarcastically, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. It was the only thing that showed Henrik how nervous he actually was. Henrik patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine," Henrik reassured. "I know a lot about Mohinder. The information should help you construct a plan fast enough." Marcel stared at him for a long time, eyes narrowed.

"You could snap your fingers and everyone in this mansion would pass out," Marcel said, voice flat. "But yeah, okay, leave me to get myself out of this mess."

"I don't appreciate your tone." Henrik wasn't actually annoyed. If anything, he was amused. He wasn't worried about Marcel, not anymore. Despite the tension between him and his brother, he trusted Elijah to get Marcel out if he was about to die. Henrik wasn't planning on staying at the party until dawn. The longer he stayed, the more likely it seemed that he would lash out with his magic at someone. Even more enemies was the last thing Henrik needed. "And hey, if you don't want to hear the information..."

"No, no, I'm sorry." Marcel motioned with his hands. Another nervous habit. "Please, continue." Henrik cocked his head to the side.

"Mohinder only drinks the blood of those he defeats in battle." He raised his glass in a mock-toast. "Do with that what you will." Marcel's face had screwed up, but no more than ten seconds after Henrik had said those words, he saw Marcel turn and look directly at Hayley. It took him a second to understand, but when he did a wide grin stretched across his face. Marcel had always been smart—much smarter than Klaus or Elijah ever gave him credit for—so it didn't surprise him that Marcel had come up with a plan within seconds. He downed the rest of his drink before looked at Elijah.