"That...that's not possible."
The edge in Davina's voice broke through Marcel's angry pacing, the first thing to do so since he had departed from the failed war with his sire. He should have known the outcome from the beginning. Few knew Niklaus Mikaelson the way he did, and even fewer as well as his sister, Rebekah. And yet, the plan the two had concocted had been foiled, to say the very least. He was lucky just to have made it out alive. For all he knew, Rebekah was staked in a coffin in the basement of the Mikaelson plantation as they spoke.
"What's up, D?"
"I've been researching like you asked. You know, about how to kill an Original vampire. The only thing I had found until now was a white oak stake from some old tree they burned down like a thousand years ago."
"So what's changed?"
"You won't believe me."
Cordelia Levenson frowned, pouting against the window as she watched another town fade away in the rearview mirror. After running for a thousand years, it should have been easier, effortless even. She had lost count centuries ago of the places she'd lived. If you could call such a life living. Or call whatever creature she was alive.
Cordelia looked over at her cousin, Morgana, as she calmly drove. No emotions crossed her face, no regrets of leaving another life behind. But it was always that way for Morgan. She did what had to be done, as she always said. It mattered little, if any at all, to the tall brunette whether or not they had been happy there. Her only thoughts were their survival, keeping one step ahead of an evil she had always refused to tell Cordelia of. For her own safety, supposedly, and Delia respected that decision. Usually. But sometimes, particularly on the days and nights when the uncontrollable anger and blood thirst would rise, Delia despised her precious cousin for her secret. How could someone uproot a person's life over and over again without even the decency of an explanation?
Morgan caught her cousin's deep blue eyes watching her, "If you must get it out, Cordelia, do it now. I won't hear it the entire trip."
"I was really careful this time! No one knew, Morgan! No one! I'm sure of it."
"Sure of it? You say this as if you know every thought and feeling of everyone in Louisiana," Morgan paused, sighing, "The decisions of our safety are not left up to you, Cordelia. I have kept us safe for all these years because I am cautious. Overly so, perhaps, but overly cautious is better than throwing our very lives to the wind as if they mean nothing. I was given a task from my mother and I intend on making sure that task is carried out. I will keep us safe. Regardless of your feelings on the matter."
Delia knew better than to argue. Not only because it would be fruitless since she knew that once Morgan made up her mind there was no changing it with even the best laid out counter-argument. No, she had fought with her cousin with no hopes of gain many times. But she already felt the anger bubbling to the surface and controlling it was a much harder battle than a simple feud with Morgan. And she knew the outcome if she let the anger manifest. She knew what the danger that lay inside her like a volcano on the edge of eruption was capable of, as well as the guilt that could arise from the consequences.
No, it was easier to just forget Louisiana and her life there and hope for something even better in the next town they stumbled into.
While Cordelia slept peacefully in their room in the small motel, Morgan snuck quietly out to return the call. She had been calling all day, no surprise there, but Morgan needed the news while Cordelia was not around.
"Well it's about time. Here I go again, sticking my neck out for you and the kid, and I'm stuck waiting by the phone all day waiting for the news of your demise. Which, by extension, means ALL of our demises."
"You know I can't talk while she's in earshot. We've been doing this for what, five hundred years now, Katerina? You'd think you'd know the drill by now."
"Cute. Real cute. I'll have you remember I only help you to save my own skin. If he finds out about her..."
"I will never let that happen," Morgan said, venom dripping from every word, "I assume you are certain about the news?"
"When have I ever not been?" Katherine snorted, "I watch his moves as carefully as you do, don't forget it. He's in New Orleans. That much I would stake my life on."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I sent him there myself."
Morgan frowned. It was always a battle working with Katerina Petrova. Mostly because it was hard to work with anyone who you knew without a shadow of a doubt had no more concern with anything other than herself. It was always, always a risk. But what options did they have?
"No more risky moves, Katerina, if you value that precious life of yours as much as you claim. Keep in mind that he is a lot more likely to believe my story than yours."
"Are you threatening me?" Katherine laughed, "Yes, you just might be right. But you remember this. I have a lot less to lose if you are wrong about that theory."
Morgan sighed, "We all do."
Cordelia was settling in their new hotel with frustration. She had loved Louisiana. Something about it called to her like a home. She felt an electricity there that she hadn't felt in a while. There was little she hadn't adored about the place. The atmosphere, the food, the entertainment. And most of all, the weather. Or maybe she was just feeling kindly toward the warm sunny days because her dear sweet cousin had decided to plop them square in the middle of Washington State. Cold, wet, dreary. The weather reflected her mood to a tee.
Morgan had said it was only temporary, that she was currently working on getting them new passports to leave the country. It was obvious by her demeanor that the idea of staying anywhere in the US had put Morgan on edge. Regardless, Delia had become accustomed to focusing on the present moment due to the constant changes in her life, and right at that moment she was being forced into a place she didn't want to be.
A knock at the door shook her from her thoughts. Finally, room service. Typically at hotels, they didn't serve to fit Delia's particular diet of A+ but ice cream they did keep a great stock of. She pulled the door open quickly, eager to dive in to a giant bowl of rocky road. Her smile faded as she felt a pain shoot through her body. It felt like an electric shock, all but pinning her in place.
Her eyes met with dark eyes and a deadly smile, bright white contrasting with dark russet skin. Fear had her nearly as paralyzed as the shock still coursing through her.
"Hello. I'm Marcel," he paused, grin cutting deeper with every word, "And you must be the Original Hybrid."