SHE PROMISED ( the originals )

0004. MY TWO DAY OLD PASTA CAN WAIT

SHE PROMISED
( part one, chapter four )

FEAR HAD ONCE STRUCK Elle's heart every time she walked through the front door. From the moment she stepped through the doorway, she once feared the man that breathed down her neck. Hell, even the sound of his keys hitting the bowl would startle her, and she'd involuntarily flinch at it. But now, she was calm as she unlocked the door and kicked it shut. It was rather surprisingly, considering all that had happened the previous year. One would have expected her to never want to go into this place again, but it's not like she had a choice. This was her home. She tossed her bag onto the couch, placing her camera down on the table beside her.

"Delia?" she called and when she got no answer, she sighed. Elle walked into the kitchen, spotting the yellow sticky note on the counter. It read: FORGOT TO TELL YOU, HAVE A DATE TONIGHT. BE HOME LATE. LEFTOVERS IN THE FRIDGE. Elle pursed her lips and nodded. "Okay, cool. I guess I'll just have," she opened the fridge door, "two-day old pasta."

Elle sighed and was about to take off her shoes when she heard someone knock on her door. She jumped but heads over to the door anyway, unlocking it. Surprisingly, Marcel was standing on the other side of the door. "Oh, hey," she greeted him, brows raised. "This is a bit... weird. Not that that's a bad thing. Well, the only bad thing is that I'm being deprived of my pasta. You have a good excuse for that?"

"I wouldn't bug you if it wasn't important," Marcel said with a grin. He shook his head. "I need to ask a favor."

"I assumed so. What's up?" She leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms.

"One of Klaus' werewolf friends has gone missing," Marcel explained. "Since he doesn't believe that I wasn't the one that took her, I thought I could use someone's help to prove it."

Elle raised one of her brows, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the doorway. She didn't want to be mean, it just wasn't in her to do so, but she couldn't help the snarky comment. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Tracker spell," Marcel said.

She raised her brow once more. Magic had been forbidden in the Crescent City for months now and yet here the king was, giving her this one grace. Elle pushed herself of the doorway; hands falling to her sides. "Wait, seriously? You're not gonna... murder me or whatever?" A spark of excitement shot through Elle's body, and it took everything in her not to jump on him and hug him. Depriving a witch of their magic was awful, and she hated not being able to use it.

Marcel grinned at her. "I got morals, Ellie, you should know that. I don't hurt kids."

Elle smiled. She knew exactly that he was right 一 if there was any rule Marcel held above all others was that he doesn't hurt kids. They'll never be his victim and he even hears of one being hurt, he'll help. She knew firsthand, and his help had been one of the greatest things in her life. "Noble. Alright, I'll help, but you owe me something."

"Of course."

"Let's go, then. Do you need me to bring anything?"

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Elle had never been in the Abattoir before, she had no reason to do so, but she knew that Cordelia had warned her to never go in there. Marcel held his lavish parties for his nightwalkers and tourists, and sometimes they got a little out of hand. She understood why Cordelia did not want her there, but she wanted to help her... could she call Marcel friend? Sure, he helped her with her problem last year, but was that enough to call him a friend? Sure, he was nice to her and never threatened her, but in some ways, he felt like her boss 一 always looming over with an iron grip.