I hope you're enjoying the story so far. With the last two chapters, I wanted to move Klaus to a better place - a better mindset. He's feeling more confident after spending some time with Jackson & Mila - he's sorta got friends (which I think he desperately needs) - or at least people who don't hate him/want to kill him. His accomplishment(s) back in the 20s have been remembered and he's understanding that he can do it again, this time for the right reasons. He's remembering Mikael, but he's also seeing contrasts to Mikael's behavior - a better way. There's one more character I've got to introduce, and then - ACTION. :) Enjoy! As always - feedback, reviews, follows are appreciated!

She made her way through the French Quarter of New Orleans, keeping a wary eye on her surroundings, and the people around her. She pushed her way through a group of obnoxious tourists as she navigated to yet another bar.

She was pretty, with light brown hair, was fairly tall, and she gave off a definite Don't Fuck With Me vibe. Consciously or not, the drunks paid attention and gave her a wide berth.

Dusk was approaching, and the city - more particularly, the Quarter, was getting restless, more so than she anticipated.

She had been in town for three days - the first day spent unsuccessfully at the police station, trying to learn anything about her brother's disappearance in New Orleans a year ago.

For a missing persons case, his file was surprisingly thin. Which was her second clue that there was more to her brother's disappearance than met the eye.

Her first clue, of course, was the complete and utter lack of professionalism and assistance she had received when she arrived at the police station.

Yesterday had been spent hitting every hospital, Urgent Care facility, and homeless shelter in the city.

Today, armed with her baby brother's most recent picture, she hit the streets, and started to hit every hotel, bar, restaurant and shop in the Quarter. With absolutely no luck.

Finally, she had been directed to a place that seemed right up his alley: a club that used to have raves every couple of months. It wasn't her type of scene, but Josh was a club kid a heart.

She came across the place - at least she thought it was the place from the description she had been given, and crossed the threshold. Immediately, her senses were on high alert. Something's wrong here, she thought as she she came into a courtyard.

The place was silent.

Crap, she thought. I'm in the wrong place, this isn't a club, it's someone's home. She turned to leave, hoping to sneak back out before anyone noticed she was there.

"What are you doing here," a voice called out.

Crap.

"Hi - sorry," she began, turning to see who addressed her.

She had been in combat. She had lost friends, comrades. She had seen children killed. She had done it all through equipment malfunctions, delayed orders, inept leadership.

She was a soldier, and no matter what the leadership said, it was still a man's world. She had been surrounded by men for the past eight years. Some were handsome, some not so much. Most were arrogant, some were nice. She knew their jokes, she knew their fears, she knew their desires.

She had proven her ability over and over - she stayed on target, she never broke down, and she never failed to give as good as she got.

She had never once lost the ability to speak.

The man standing in front of her could not be real. This man was a god - an Adonis. His eyes pierced hers from across the room. Her heart slammed into her chest.

FOCUS.

"Sorry," she said again. "I was told this was a club, obviously it's not - sorry to have barged in," she apologized.

He made his way to her. Something inside her recognized the way he walked, the way he moved, the way he carried himself: predator.

She stood her ground as he came closer.

"A club - looking for a good time?" he asked silkily.

If the alarm bells in her head went off any louder, she'd be unable to hear whatever he said next.

Great, a jackass, she thought. "My brother," she said civilly.

"Ah - a wayward sibling," he murmured.

"He disappeared in New Orleans about a year ago," she said. "I'm looking for him."

"A year ago," he expressed shock. "And the concerned sister is just now making her way here?" he mocked.

"It was a little difficult for me to get here sooner," she smiled coldly.

"Prison?" he asked innocently.

"Army. Afghanistan," she added, since that was inevitably the next question.

She felt a shift in the air, something a little less menacing.

"A soldier then, home from war. And not a clerk, I gather," he said, appraising her. "You saw action. I thought there was something I recognized," he murmured.

"Welcome home," he said sincerely.

Surprisingly, she believed him when he said that. Her muscles relaxed, but she stayed on alert.

"And you are now looking for your brother," he continued. "Perhaps he doesn't want to be found," he smirked.

"I don't believe that," she said.

"Hmm - no, you never do, do you," he muttered more to himself than her.

"Have you seen him," she asked, impatient with his innuendos and games. She showed him Josh's picture. He gazed at her a moment, smirking, then lowered his gaze to the photo.

Klaus kept his face impassive as his gaze fell on young Joshua's face. Wonderful, he thought, inwardly rolling his eyes.

"You've seen him - you've seen Josh," she said, hopeful.

Klaus looked at her, surprised. It wasn't very often he ran into someone who could read him. He smiled to himself. She was trained to notice details.

And the thought crossed his mind: I should turn her.

"He looks familiar," he said finally. "But," he shrugged.

You piece of - you're lying, she thought.

"Here," she said, pulling out her phone and bringing up another photo. "This one's a bit different, how about now? Do you recognize him?"

He sighed and chose his words carefully. "As I said, love. Are you sure he wants to be found? People disappear all the time from this city. Some meet their end, some find a new beginning. Are certain you want to pursue this? You might not like what you find."

"He's my brother," she flatly stated, "and I'm not your love."

He smirked and stared at her a moment longer. I want to turn you, he thought.

Instead, he shrugged and said, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I haven't seen him around in a while. Try Rousseau's. Bar further down in the Quarter. I trust you can find your way out." He turned and walked away.

"Thanks," she muttered, "and I'm not your sweetheart either."


Elijah and Hayley sat on the couch in the library, listening to the exchange in the courtyard.

"I'm impressed," Elijah said as Klaus came in. "You didn't turn her."

Klaus smiled. "Not yet," he said.

"Wait - you want to turn Josh's sister?" Hayley asked in outrage.

"Well, well, look who's been practicing with their enhancing hearing," Klaus said as he poured himself a drink.

"Of course," Klaus continued. "She's a human and she's proven more worthy of the vampire species in five minutes than young Joshua has in a year."

Elijah explained when he noticed Hayley's bewildered expression.

"Soldiers tend to make good vampires. The discipline is already instilled, they know how to fight, they're used to following orders, they're used to a - commanding officer."

"You're not turning her," Hayley said. "She's Josh's sister, he already hates you - you're supposed to be making friends, not more enemies."

Klaus simply smiled. "Would you like to know what I've learned from my journey into the bayou?" he asked, effectively changing the subject.


Johanna walked out of the courtyard and found herself back in the Quarter. She leaned against the wall for moment and took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart rate. Josh is alive, she thought.

She wasn't sure before, but now, she was certain. He was alive. And he's in trouble, she thought.

Her eyes focused on a sign across the street: The Golden Siren. Decision made, she walked across the street for a quick drink to settle her nerves and ask directions to Rousseau's.

An hour and two drinks later, she emerged from The Golden Siren. Darkness had fallen, and the Quarter was crowded with tourists. Some were drunk, some half-naked - all loud.

The streets were wild, untamed, crowded. Drunken fights started to break out, and rough horseplay between frat boys.

I can't deal with this, she thought, ducking into a darkened alley. She would make her way to Rousseau's through the many alley's that cut through the Quarter.


Elijah jumped from rooftop to rooftop, scanning the crowds below.

Four months in, and the wolves still felt the need to make up for lost time. Elijah knew it was an issue Francesca hated dealing with. She wanted peace to reign in the Quarter under the her control. She didn't want her wolves drunk and harassing tourists or locals. She needed to prove to the humans, that with the wolves in charge, the Quarter was a safer place than it had been when vampires ruled.

She had placed Oliver in charge of keeping the wolves in line. And yet, the majority of nights Elijah went out, Oliver was nowhere in sight.

Elijah had found himself interfering when things got out of hand. He kept himself from killing any of them - he merely knocked a few skulls together to teach them some manners. Mostly.

He killed one, who was intent on raping a young woman. He deposited the offending piece of trash on Francesca's doorstep. When she came to the door, he simply said, "He tripped."

Francesca stared a moment at the dead wolf and noticed the hole in his chest, now minus a heart. She looked at Elijah. "He tripped?" she inquired politely.

"While attempting to rape a young woman," he said.

He saw her fury underneath her cold mask.

"I thought you should know," he said.

"Thank you for bringing it to my attention," she said icily. "I'll take care of it," she said.

"Mm," he said noncommittally. "The girl is fine," he added. "I took care of it."

That had been almost two months ago.

He wasn't sure what she did, or more likely threatened, but to give her credit, the wolves began to behave with some semblance of control. Not that they completely stopped drinking, or fighting, or pursuing consensual sexual encounters.

Tonight was wilder than usual, but that wasn't unusual considering the full moon would rise in two nights.

From his vantage point, he noticed a young woman step into an alleyway. He thought nothing of it, until he noticed two men - wolves - drunkenly heading down the same alley.

Johanna sensed them before she heard them. She turned to face them. "What do you want?" she said. There were two of them, drunk from what she could tell.

"Oh, come on baby, don't be that way," one of them said, approaching her.

"Don't," she warned, "and I'm not your baby."

"Ohh - she's a tough one," the other mocked as they moved to flank her.

The one closest to her reached out and grabbed her.

She guessed he would be the one to move first and had been ready for him. She slammed her knee into his groin, and when he doubled over, she delivered a right-hook to his jaw, sending him to the ground.

She swiftly turned to take on the other - only he was already incapacitated.

Holy - what is it with the men in this city? she thought, losing her ability to speak for the second time in just a few short hours.

Before her stood a man, immaculate in a suit - a suit, of all things, in a filthy alley in New Orleans. He was handsome, and there was no other word for it - he was a gentlemen. And yet, there was nothing gentlemanly about the way he was handling the other drunk - who was struggling feebly while in a chokehold.

The man holding him looked like he was simply out for a nighttime stroll.

She had seen men like this before. She had known a few commanding officers who actually knew how to lead and she counted herself lucky to have been under their command. They all shared similar traits: a quiet confidence, a genuine concern for those under their command, the ability to make the tough decisions, and quick intelligence. They had the ability to make men follow, without hesitation.

They stood silently, appraising each other.

He didn't seem inclined to speak, and Johanna wasn't sure she could form a coherent sentence.

Finally, she simply said, "Thanks," and turned to continue on her way.

As she walked away, Elijah stared thoughtfully after her. He recognized the woman's voice and realized she must be Josh's sister.

He cursed his brother's uncanny ability to recognize untapped potential. Niklaus was correct. She would make an excellent vampire.

The wolf he was holding choked out. Elijah released him and let him fall in the filth.