This book is based and inspired by the Originals, with a tinge of the Vampire Diaries. I suggest that you watch the shows to understand some occurrences.
All rights go to The Originals television show on the CW, and Lisa Jane Smith (the author), except the characters and events that are purely of my imagination. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, OR ELSE YOU'LL BE REPORTED.
I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT IF ANYONE IS COPYING SECTIONS FROM THIS BOOK THAT ARE OF MY INVENTION, PLEASE TAKE ACTION.
(EDITED)
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The song of the chapter is: Stay by Rihanna
Not really sure how to feel about it, Something in the way you move,Makes me feel like I can't live without you.It takes me all the way,I want you to stay.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - I STALL YOU, YOU STALL ME
I HUFF, SPEED WALKING through the pathways between the graves in the cemetery. I keep my head down, pushing past humans giving their respects for the dead and keep my instincts alert for any familiar scent or voice.
After that phone call, I had decided to go back to the Mikaelson Mansion to see if I could help with anything. Truthfully, I just wanted to keep busy so I would not be physically be able to think about Rose, Cathy and Duane. It was my fault that they turned against me, and I had no one to blame. It hurt too much.
Much to my annoyance, no one was there. Hayley had disappeared, which meant that Rebekah was with her, since Klaus had more or less ordered his sister to tail her wherever she went. And if my instincts were correct, Hayley would have followed Sophie because, well, let's face it: Sophie was as stubborn as a mule and would most definitely go to the clearing to consecrate her witches. Which meant that the first place she would go to was the cemetery to stock up on witch ingredients.
I mean, it is what I would do. Besides, I needed her stocked up if she was going to help me in the very hush-hush 'cause'. Power is everything nowadays. Especially in a city in which its different supernatural factions were waging quasi-wars against each other for the crown.
God, it was like the Game of Thrones all over again.
Seeing that it was daytime, there were quite a few humans stragglers, which was the main reason why I could not just break out into vampire speed. Also, I felt a bit queasy about using anything vampiric when unnecessary after talking to Duane. I don't know why. I just did.
Pretty soon, I caught their scent. Unsurprisingly, all of them were in one room, arguing with other on whether to go or not. I stop at the entrance and take a breath before plastering a smirk on my face.
"Looks like all of the dumbasses of the generation are gathered here." I drawl, strolling through the room, stopping at the centre. "Sophie, now that you've established your stubbornness let's finish this conversation and get going already." Sophie looks slightly surprised that I have agreed with her but zips up her bag anyway, following me to the entrance.
"Are you really going to let her do this?" Rebekah asks, one hand on her hip. "She's the only friendly witch here. Plus, she is linked to Hayley, which means nothing bad can happen to her as long as they're connected. I want her to be stocked up on at least a little bit of power. I'm not taking any chances." I pause, and then notice that Hayley is standing close to Sophie and I. This obviously meant that she intended to come with us.
I sigh and mentally brace myself for the fight. "Except you, Hayley. You're going back to the Mansion right now." Hayley crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "I'm going with you." She states firmly.
I copy her stance and tilt my head to the side. "It may escape your notice, but you're pregnant. With Klaus' child. Do you have any idea how many targets are on your back right now?"
"I can look after myself, Melissa." She grits her teeth, starting to get annoyed. I step closer to her, maintaining eye connection, equally as irritated with her carefree behaviour regarding her pregnancy. Did she not realise how rash she was being? "Yeah. You definitely showed that when you got kidnapped and linked to the likes of her." I briefly flicker my eyes to Sophie who doesn't seem know whether to be offended or neutral that I added her in the conversation.
"Well, I'm still here, aren't I?"
Still in the fight mode, I smirk. "You're only alive because Elijah and Klaus agreed to the witches' deal. Without them - hell, without me - you would've been buried in the ground right now." Hayley juts out her jaw, steeling herself for another rebuttal. I sigh, realising that this could go on all day. And we needed light to search for the remains.
I soften up. "Hayley, look, even if we aren't on speaking terms right now, I still care for you because we've been friends for a long time. I'm not doing this because I want to be a mega-bitch to you. I'm doing this for your welfare." I pause. "I'm also doing this because of the baby. Hayley, your one of the biggest targets in New Orleans if Marcel discovers who you are. We need to keep you safe." I pause once again, deciding to test a theory, "I promised Elijah to keep you safe."
Her face softens and I have to maintain an incredulous snort. Oh, so now she listens?
"So please, go back to the Mansion. We'll meet you there." I say, and then walk about before she can say anything else. I don't think I can take another one of her glares. Did she not have any respect for the friendship that we used to have? Yes, I am lying to her frequently, and yes, our friendship is on hiatus. But did that mean that we had to be utter bitches to each other?
Rebekah comes up beside me, curiosity pouring out of her eyes. I sigh silently, not wanting to get into this. "What?" I demand sharply. "I know we talked about this yesterday, but what is going on with the two of you?" Rebekah asks.
I stay silent. "Okay, then." She snaps. "Be like that." I bite my lip and grab her hand, drawing us to a stop. She looks back at me, her face stony. "Wait." I mutter. "I'm not being snappy because of you. It's just been a few very stressful days." I pause. "I'm sorry."
Rebekah frowns. "What?" I ask. "It's very rare to see such an old vampire apologising." I let a small smile slip out. "Thank you? I think?"
"How do you do it, though?" She asks, falling back into step with me, as we follow a stressed Sophie to the bayou. "Do what?" Rebekah shrugs, letting out a small huff. "Contain your humanity in an equal balance to your bloodthirstiness?"
I shrug. "I just don't look at it that way. I know it sounds cheesy, but I just try to be myself. I don't really look at humanity as a chore. I just . . . remind myself that I was human once, and even though that once is a very long time ago, it is still part of me."
"But, doesn't it hurt?" Her voice cracks. "All the feelings, the emotions. Doesn't it cripple you?" I purse my lips and look into her broken eyes. I can literally see her sadness etched into the webs of her orbs. "Of course it does." I answer seriously. "It hurts so much that sometimes I can't even get out of bed until I need to feed. I'm a vampire just like you. Sometimes I let the darkness seep out, but I always come back, because, truly, I am two sides of a coin that makes one."
Rebekah ponders solemnly. "That should be an Oscar speech."
I throw back my head and laugh raucously. "Stop ruining the moment, you bitch!" I shove her arm playfully. She shakes her head, her blonde hair swimming in the sunlight. "I am Rebekah Mikaelson." I snort good-naturedly. "You're so humble."
"Don't you know it." She laughs and winks not really discreetly. "Will you guys stop giggling? This is a place where people died!" Sophie condescends from the front. I pause and take in my surroundings. I did not even need to ask if this was the place. Torn and stinking bodies lay scattered like pebbles on the ground, dried blood adorning the sides of their wounds, now turned to crusts under the scorching sun.
"Well," I say evenly, precariously stepping over a werewolf à la shredded meat, "by making use of that logic, everywhere we have stepped in our lives is a burial ground. Remember the dinosaurs?" Sophie sends me a tiny glare. "What?" I shrug. "I respond intelligently to stupid remarks."
A branch cracks in the distance and I swivel around, my eyes darting around the vicinity. "Who's there?" Rebekah calls out. I tense my body, ready to prepare myself for a fight of any kind. But I get a whiff of something really familiar.
Hayley.
I growl, clenching my fists as my former best friend walks out of the thicket of trees. "Are you honestly that idiotic?" Hayley swats a bug from her hair and crosses her arms. "Listen, Melissa. The entire reason why I came to this god-forsaken place in the first place was to find my family. And last night, whomever saved me likes me. It could be a link."
I sigh heavily and massage the bridge of my nose. "You've waited for twenty-one years. Can't you just wait for nine months and then worry about your former family?" I compromise, stalling for time. "You're not going to change my mind." Hayley says firmly. "After all, isn't family important to you?" My mouth slackens, not really believing that she used one of my weaknesses against me.
Realising that there was no way that she would agree with me, I take a step towards her, forcing her to meet my eyes. "They might be your family, but this baby," I gesture at her stomach, "is your family, your priority, right now. And if you can't see that, then you don't deserve to be a mother."
Hayley's eyes flicker with something like hurt. Thing was, I didn't like saying what I said either, and I did not say it because I felt mean — I needed her to see that the baby was the most important thing in her life, and if I tried saying this sweetly and it did not work, then I had to be the villain of the story. That's what friends do.
"Anyhow," Rebekah clears her throat, spinning on her stiletto's heel, attempting to diffuse the situation, "Sophie, hurry up, consecrate the witches already."
Sophie tightens her jaw as she nears the reeking bodies and removes several items from her bag, setting them on the forest floor. I start to lean back against a tree, waiting for her to finish the job, when I realise that the tree had been disfigured.
A large, red paw mark lay imprinted on the bark of the tree, and three lengthy scratches dragged on the wood. I frown, peering closer, examining the marks. I could tell that the imprint was mingled with old blood. On instinct, I turn my back on the scratches and attempt to cover them up before Hayley was struck with even more delusional fortitude.
Almost like my actions were linked to her brain, Hayley spots them before I can lean back fully. She rushes towards me and shoves me away lightly, scrutinising the clues. "See!" She smiles victoriously, "it's definitely werewolf."
Before any of us can comment on the changing factor, we simultaneously crack our necks as we follow a crunching noise, suspiciously like footsteps on the outskirts of the forest clearing. "Who's there?' Hayley calls out loudly. I quell her with a condescending glare and return to try to use my abilities to their maximum. It was definitely a person.
And why would a normal person find himself in the middle of the woods at this time? As far as my knowledge stretched, it was definitely not hunting season. So, the only other option was spying, clearly.
A man stumbles into the clearing, his pupils dilated with terror as he spots Rebekah. "You?" He gasps. I exchange a mystified look with Rebekah, who looks equally as clueless. "An Original." His voice trembles before zooming off.
"Ah," I register, my puzzled expression clearing up. He was definitely not human. Before any of us can say anything, Rebekah rushes behind him, no doubt following him. Without thinking, I fling my cell phone out of my pocket and press on a contact, immediately whipping the phone to my ear.
"Hello?" He greets. "Hi, Klaus." I say confidently, still buzzing from my fight with Hayley. "Melissa." He says with surprise in his tone. "To what do I —"
"Listen up, Klaus. We're in the bayou because Sophie needed to consecrate the bones of those witches." I interrupt. "Ah." He says simply. I can't really tell if he's angry or not. Regardless, because I know that time is of the essence, so I roll out the information quickly. "While we were here, a man stumbled into the clearing. I think he's Marcel's informant because he is the only one with an agenda that fits. Rebekah's gone after him."
"So, against my very clear orders, Sophie, my sister and you went to consecrate the dead witches." I hang my open slightly, not having thought ahead this far. "Yes." I finally say evenly, deciding against informing him that Hayley was here too. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.
Klaus sighs on the other end of the line, not really seeming surprised. "Fine, I'll deal with it. But I need a distraction." I had no doubt what he was asking of me. "Klaus," I say, trying to keep my tone neutral, "I literally only had one conversation with the guy. I don't know what —"
"You're an intelligent woman," he cuts me short, "figure it out. I'll send Rebekah, but I presume she'll be a while." With that, he hangs up. I lift the phone away from my ear, trying to digest and think of what I'd have to do.
I look helplessly at Sophie who looks sympathetic. I sigh grimly and jam my phone into my pocket, starting to make my way to the bar. Big Auggie's, was it?
I'd have to start a fight with the King of the Quarter.
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I waltz in the bar and set my face into an aggravated expression when my eyes fall on Marcel leaning on the bar. As I neared him, he smiled with that little twinkle in his eye, but I could tell that his body was tense. "Melissa!" He spreads his arms wide. "What brings you here?"
I roll my eyes and turn towards the bartender. "A margarita please." I throw the money on the bar top. "Honestly, Marcel? You." He frowns and I force out an exaggerated sigh. "You know, since you seem to haunt the Rousseau's bar because you have an unhealthy obsession with Camille O'Connell, I thought you wouldn't be here so I could enjoy my drink."
Oh, come on. I had to throw in a snide comment about Camille.
"Come now, Melissa, I'm not that bad." He defends himself with that aggravating smile that made me want to hurl. I incline my face towards his and feel a rush of hate towards the man before me. "I've certainly not forgotten the charity gala, Marcel." I glare.
He sighs heavily, but I have the feeling that he was just doing it to placate me, to get me in his good graces. "I will admit, maybe I did go too far with that. But I'm sure you would do the same thing if you start seeing a swarm of powerful vampires just waltz in and pretend they're home."
The bartender sets my drink on the table and I reach out for it, taking in a tentative sip. I could barely feel the alcohol run down my oesophagus; perhaps my anger converted to heat energy and evaporated the liquid itself.
"The difference between me and you is that I wouldn't have let a . . . what was it? 'A swarm of powerful vampires' come through the doors in the first place." I reply tartly.
"Besides, don't you dare compare me with you." I spit out, my lip curling slightly. "Family is family, and trust me, I would have followed my family to the ends of the Earth when I had the chance, unlike you." Marcel freezes, but at the corner of my eye, I spot his knuckles whitening. "So," he drawls out, "the Mikaelson's have told you the story."
"Yes, they have." I shake my head. "I can't believe that you chose to steal their rightful power over their love. Who would do that?"
"Hm." He smirks. "I had my reasons, but if you think that the Mikaelson's are big on family, well, sweetheart, you're in for a massive disappointment. Ask Rebekah. She isn't as family oriented as you think she is."
I pause while lifting my glass to my mouth. "What do you mean?"
Marcel smirks, getting that pleasure knowing that he had me caught up with curiosity. "Well, you're going to have to find out, aren't you?" I stare into his dark eyes, wanting to know all the secrets he claimed he knew. I mean, he was Klaus' ward. He grew up with the Mikaelson's as their heir. He probably knew everything.
Idly, I wonder if Klaus ever told him about me. I shake my head mentally, ridding the idea from my head. Klaus had better things to do than think about his ex-lover. Besides, by the time Marcel had joined the Mikaelson's as their heir, or ward or whatever, hundreds of years had passed. Klaus was probably over me, Melissandre Fiorelli.
"You eyes . . . they're exactly like hers." But was he? Was he really?
"Nice party you've got going on in here." I snap out of my little daydream and avert my eyes, realising that I was staring at Marcel way too long for a normal person. "Hi, Rebekah." I greet, scooting over so that she could sit down between Marcel and me. I halt for a few seconds, wondering if I could possibly ask her directly, get the entire story. But something in Marcel's body language told me that I should not. That she would make up a story.
I growl internally, angry that Marcel made me have doubts about Rebekah. Damn him and his way with words! I trusted Rebekah a hell of a lot more than I did him, but his little comment still made my mouth sour. Could I truly trust Rebekah, the vampire that I was starting to trust with my life? I mean, how bad could the little secret be? Did Klaus and Elijah know?
Elijah. The promise. Shit. Where was Hayley? Was she safe, being with Sophie? I could not even ask Rebekah vocally about it, since Marcel was sitting a mere few centimetres from us. Maybe Klaus would know. "Excuse me," I say, standing up while downing my margarita, "I'm feeling rather light-headed. I think I'll go outside to get some fresh air." There. Let Marcel think that my alcohol tolerance was low. If he tried to get me drunk in the future to spill secrets, I could just pretend. I wouldn't put it past him. After all, he was the King of the Quarter.
I stagger lightly out of the door, pretending to feel a wave of dizziness. However, when I turn back to close the door, I see the duo caught in a staring contest, one that reminded me of what happened in that car park with Joshua.
"Maybe to make sure I didn't get too drunk and spill secrets better left unspilled about you and me. I know better." Marcel whispers. Rebekah leans even closer, making me kindle some doubt if he was merely the former heir to her. "I hope so, because you don't want to end up on the wrong side of me." Marcel smirks, something that I am beginning to hate. " Oh, Rebekah Mikaelson." He elongates his enunciation for effect, "You do not want to be on the wrong side of me."
With a slight chill, I shut the door close and turn to face the dusty, dirty car park. Marcel and Rebekah were definitely hiding something. And I needed to find out, because judging from Marcel's expression, it was something big. And it could not hurt Klaus' plan whatsoever.
Stepping outside, I am greeting with a beautiful morning, the sun's warmth caressing my skin, the chirping of birds and Klaus snapping the spies' neck. "Hey." I say, stepping beside him. "Hello." He replies, kicking the guys' body carelessly under the shade of a random car. "Did you distract him?"
I nod. "Sufficiently enough. Rebekah's taken over." Klaus nods and starts striding to the bar door, before entering. I cannot help but feel something sink in my stomach at his dismissal of me. A thousand years ago, he would never have done that. Taking a deep breath, to ready myself to face Marcel once again, I follow him through.
"Where's Marcel? In there, touching up his lipstick?" He gestures towards the bathroom. His sister rolls her eyes. "Credit me with some taste, it's filthy in there." She shudders slightly before asking: "Where'd he go?"
I frown and exchange an alarmed look with Klaus. "What do you mean? Is he not here?" I ask. "No, he said he was going to talk to Nik." She pauses, her face getting increasingly anxious. "Do you think he realised that we were stalling him?"
"No." Klaus says firmly. "Unless . . ." he trails off. I quickly exhale, slapping my hand on the bar table. "Unless he was stalling us." I finish for him. "Right," Klaus decides. "Rebekah, Melissa. Go back to the house, make sure that Hayley is okay."
"What are you going to do?" I ask.
"I'm going to have a chat with Marcel." He smirks grimly.
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Slamming the car boot's lid shut, I bend down to pick up the plastic bags. On our way here, I separated from Rebekah, who went straight to the mansion. I, on the other hand, went to the grocery store. Don't judge, it wasn't for me, it was for Hayley. Who still hates me.
Fantastic.
With some struggle, I shuffle the bags from one hand to the other and somehow manage to open the front door to step inside. I kick the door closed and make my way into the kitchen, which was unnecessarily gigantic for people whose meals consisted of blood. Shutting the fridge's door, I make my way to the living room where I can hear her heartbeat.
"Hayley, I bought some milk for your breakfast, it's in the fridge ―"
Elijah. That's literally the first thing I see. He appears healthy and well, dapper as usual in his suit. I can't seem to move, my feet are stuck to the floor. Funnily enough, I don't feel happiness for his return, just dread. He knows. He knows my secret. And he could do anything he wanted with it. Shut me up, make me go on New Orlean-ic business for him. Be his little pawn.
Tell Nik.
At first, due to the thick tension that I am positive wouldn't be able to be cut through even with a sharp knife, I believe that Elijah's told them. And judging by the way they all look at me, it doesn't help. My first instinct is to flee, and it disgusts me. What a coward I am. Running from them, from him all these years have embossed such pusillanimity in me. And to be honest, it scares me. What would I do if this New Orlean war came to a head. Despite being protective of Hayley, would my spirit, my animus, force me to abscond?
I force myself to shift my eyes elsewhere, and I drink in the sight of Hayley, Rebekah and Klaus all perched on different sofas. A small rush of relief passes through me when I see that Hayley is safe. I didn't break my promise to Elijah. He wouldn't tell him.
With impetus, I spread a smile, one that I hope looks warm enough to pass off as genuine. "Elijah. Welcome home."
"Thank you, Melissa." Elijah doesn't bother to smile. Honestly, I don't think he's smiled for a long time, because he doesn't have much to smile for, and it makes me reminiscent of when all of us were happy back then. Hell, I wouldn't even mind fighting with my father about that stupid marriage he wanted to organise for me.
Whatever the hell happened to Luke anyway?
"Everything that brought us here to New Orleans was a lie." Elijah begins. "This story that Sophie Devereaux fabricated, this struggle for control of the French Quarter, this war between vampires and witches, wasn't over territory at all, this was over Davina." He stresses.
Curious, I perch myself on the arm rest of one of the sofas. "Davina?" I ask, feeling left out. "I know that Marcel uses her to control the witches, but if they wanted her, I'm pretty sure that they would already have gotten her."
Rebekah shakes her head. "When you were off distracting Marcel, Sophie told me something. Davina was part of the Harvest." There it was again; The Harvest. So Davina was one of the ingredients, one of the four girls.
"Sophie said that the Harvest required four girls to appease the ancestors. And Davina was one of the said four girls. Yet Marcel has her." I piece together slowly.
Elijah nods. "While I was in the attic, Davina told me a bit more. Apparently, her best friend, who went by the name of Monique, was also one of the chosen ones. Interestingly enough, Monique was also Jane-Anne's daughter."
My eyes widen. "And Monique is Sophie's niece."
"Exactly." Hayley pipes up, before looking directly into my eyes for the first time in days. "And Jane-Anne died by magically connecting Sophie and I together."
"Where's Monique now?" I ask.
The rooms falls to a strained silence, and I know the answer without them requiring to fill in the sentence. "She's dead." I mutter glumly. Poor girl. No once deserved to die that young. I died around that age, I realise. Perhaps Davina wasn't the bitch I thought she was. She was just a scared teenager. "Not dead." Elijah cuts. "Murdered."
"Murdered?" I exclaim, looking upwards at him. Elijah nods patiently. "Davina informed me on the more . . . sanguinary elements of the Harvest that Sophie purposely refused to inform us of. To appease their ancestors, to keep the magic flowing, the Elders needed to kill those four girls, who were unaware of this bit of knowledge." Elijah walks smoothly to the window of the living room, peering at nothings that I couldn't see.
Turning back to us, he continues what I thought was a fable at first. "As you're probably all aware, Marcel has a rule about children. None would be harmed. When he heard of this, he intervened and rescued Davina. That is why Marcel hides her up in that attic."
I breathe in deeply. I hate the guy, I did, but he seemed a hell of a lot more decent and . . . humane, now. He saved a teenager who was going to be slaughtered by a gaggle of megalomaniac lunatic witches for power. Maybe he wasn't all that bad. Begrudgingly, I have to respect him for that, despite what an ass he is to me.
"The Devereaux witches believed that by killing Davina, the last of the Four, the ritual would continue as normal and Monique, along with the others, will resurrect." I wrinkle my face. I believe in numerous things. Witches, vampires, werewolves, supernatural hunters. Hell, I'm still waiting to see if Cathy will receive her Hogwarts letter when she turns eleven.
But resurrection? Even Dumbledore couldn't do that, let alone a quartet of sixteen year olds. Even if Davina was a magical prodigy. "What was the criteria of selection for the Four?" I ask. "Did they need to be more powerful than usual, like Davina is?"
"I'm not sure." Elijah responds. "But Davina is definitely not a normal witch. The reason she is this powerful is because, as each girl was killed, their power flew through each one until it returned to the Earth, to the alleged ancestors. And ―"
"And since Davina is the remaining person, all this magic is flowing through her, worthy of four people." I complete.
"She's dangerous." Hayley voices. "All this uncontrollable magic is bad for her."
Elijah swivels on his heels fluidly and leans against the wall, eyeing each and every one of us. "Eight months ago, Sophie Devereaux and her sister Jane-Anne lost everything. Now, four months after that, a young pregnant girl wanders into their restaurant. Suddenly, all hope is renewed. Jane-Anne actually sacrificed her life so that her sister can use you to find Davina." He nods towards Hayley's stomach.
"If Sophie Devereaux is successful in capturing Davina, she can return Jane-Anne's daughter back to life. We thought we'd come here to wage a war for power. This, is about family. In order to return her niece to life, Sophie Devereaux will fight to the death." Elijah stares at the wall behind me so ferociously that I would not be surprised if it burnt right through with the intensity of his gaze.
"That makes her more dangerous than anyone."
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I'm updating this right before school, so I hope I'm not late for the bus but whatever. I too live dangerously. It's my birthday today (wohoo, a birthday on a school day, whad'ya know), so I had to resist the urge to post chapters until now. I'm so excited!!!
Sorry for the shitty seventeenth chapter. I needed a filler, so yeah . . .
But I hope that this chapter was slightly more up to the mark, although I'm pretty sure it will never beat the 100K, because even I'm surprised at how well the 100K flowed.
I want to thank all my followers (OMG ALMOST 300) and all the commentators and voters. When I began this I had no idea that it would reach this kind of attention. My story might not be the highest on the list if you search for 'The Originals', but I find myself uncaring of this, when I see all of you supporting this project.
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