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Chapter 6: Expertize

"That's a deal, then," Kol listened as Jess made an agreement with the recently deceased witch named Robert. He watched as she raised her finger, making a motion of crossing her heart. Raising an eyebrow at that, Kol didn't comment. It was an odd way to swear to something. "I'll be sure to pass your message along." The witch nodded, raising his glass to her and drinking. Jessica stood, grabbing her jacket and walking out of the bar with the directions to a local coven jotted down on a napkin.

Kol followed her out of The Hallow and onto the street, where she pulled her jacket tighter around herself and walked on with purpose. Jess paused after a while, looking back, then walked ten steps the way she came and up to a small shop in the middle of the sidewalk. He'd heard Nik refer to them as bodegas, but Kol simply found them fascinating, because they reminded him of the juice stalls he'd seen across the African continent during his travels. Small houses in which people sold their goods, but actually, most had more than simply what was on display. He'd gotten fairly cozy with a witch from Morocco who had lived in one of those things.

"What are you doing?" Kol hissed through his teeth. "They could be tracking you right at this very moment," he tried to sound aloof. He really did. But, there was a fatal flaw that Kol had to admit that he had – attachment. His whole life, and death now, he supposed, he was always quick to take to something that he found amusing. He didn't hang on to the attachments he formed, but he couldn't bear to get rid of them, either. He supposed that was why he had collected so many magical objects and grimoires throughout the years. Not to mention his collection of friendships with the odd and the weird across the world. Yes, he had never truly been able to value cool detachment like his brothers.

"That'll be six sixty-five, miss," the young man, really barely out of his teenage years, in the little house said to Jess and she dug through her pockets, paying.

"Thanks," she took the packet of, Kol couldn't believe it, cigarettes, from the boy and gave a small wave, continuing on her way.

"You're not going to really smoke those, are you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"After the shitstorm I've been through, I think I'm allowed a cigarette or two," Jess replied. Good, she'd stopped ignoring him. "Maybe even a Red Bull." She ripped off the protective foil around the pack and pulled out a cigarette, sticking it into her mouth as she struggled to find a lighter.

"That is a horrid habit," Kol huffed, but didn't leave her side.

"Thanks," Jessica replied, making him roll his eyes. She finally managed to light the blasted thing, pulling smoke into her lungs and stopping for a brief second in her walk to enjoy it. Then, she was back on track yet again.

By the time they reached the address Robert had given Jess, she'd gone through three cigarettes, bought a Red Bull on the way, and the sun was lazily coming up. She had found it very curious how her Mr. poltergeist had questions about the Red Bull. What was in it? Why did she drink it if she didn't know what was in it? Why would one want to drink something that would make them stay awake for two days? Why would one want to mix that thing with alcohol, even? He'd concluded how it would be interesting to try, though, which had made her laugh.

She figured that the ghost of a vampire hanging about her was old. Through the various dreams he'd given her and the way he interacted with the world, she estimated him well over five hundred. However, there was an odd gap. He seemed not to be in touch with the pop culture and he couldn't recall anything around the time of the two World Wars. Jess had to admit, she was curious about it. Was it amnesia? Has something happened to him? Had he died back at the turn of the 20th century and only now realized that he was deceased? No, that had to be wrong. He couldn't interact with his surroundings well as a ghost and if he'd been dead for a century, he would've gotten the hang of things. Besides, his clothes were too modern for that theory. Jess decided to put a pin into her mental musings as she neared the location Robert had jotted down for her.

The address of the coven was a house in a fairly old neighborhood. It was nestled between two taller ones, both more modern than her destination. Jess took one more look at the napkin in her hands, before she stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans and walked through up the small path through the front lawn. It wasn't particularly well-maintained, but it was tidy enough. The house seemed to give off a vibe, but Jess couldn't put her finger on it. It was a little bit eerie and a lot ethereal. Witchy business, she decided.

"Oh, fuck me," Jess murmured to herself, ignoring the chuckle of the British ghost who seemed glued to her hip these days. Secretly, she was thankful for his presence. She'd known about the existence of the supernatural for a while, but she tended not to get mixed up in their respective business. Sometimes, witches would seek her out. Sometimes, vampires would. Often deceased. She hadn't particularly liked her dealings with either sort.

Jess rang the doorbell. She heard it resounding through the house, and then she moved away, wrapping her arms around herself and waiting. Soon, there were hurried footsteps.

"Who in the-" the door flew open and a woman in her fifties, at least, was standing there. She looked like she'd just woken up, in her silk pajamas and a bright orange bathrobe with artsy flowers on it. Her hair was a wild mess of curls, black, and her skin was dark. She had large eyes, which went up and down Jess' form. "How may I help you?" her voice was welcoming, a little vexed by the ungodly hour, but it had a pleasant crackle to it. Like a burning fireplace.

"Hi, um, sorry for the early hours," Jess started, stumbling over her words. "I'm in a need of a spell and a friend, Robert Goode, told me that I could come to you in good faith." She managed to stop her fuzzy, sleep-deprived brain from adding more unnecessary words. The woman frowned at her.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but Robert passed away some time ago," she finally said. Jess nodded, the movement of her head jerky.

"I know," she told the witch. "I mean, I met him after he died," at that, the old witch's frown deepened. "I'm a medium, ma'am."

"I see," the lady replied, pensive. "I suppose this spell that you need is urgent?" She gave Jess a once over. It was then that the medium realized that she probably looked like hell. Sure, she'd changed her shoes, socks and jacket, as well as tied her hair, but there was no hiding the dirt on her face, the bruises around her wrists or the muck on her jeans. Knowing how easily she got baggy eyes from lack of sleep, she would bet that she looked like some kind of an ill toad, muddy and neurotic, standing on the poor woman's porch.

"I'm sorry," Jess said slowly, sighing, her hand coming up to run through the loose parts of her hair. It had become oily from the lack of washing. "I know it's really early, but it's very urgent." Then, just as Jess was about to apologize again and walk away, the woman nodded.

"Alright," she moved to the side, letting the redhead slip into the warm home.

"Hello?" the ghost who'd been unusually silent called out, raising his hands and giving Jess an expectant look when she glanced back at him. "An invitation would be bloody nice?"

"Erm," Jess stopped short, looked at the witch, then back at the ghost.

"Darling, I've spent centuries running around witches, you want me in there," the ghost added exasperatedly.

"What's wrong?" the witch asked.

"Well, I have a ghost companion with me," Jess began, then turned to the witch and winced when she saw the raised eyebrow. "He's a former vampire and can't enter your home unless he's invited." The witch glared at her. "I understand the issue of hostility, but I will vouch that he will be on his best behavior and won't harm you or bother you in any way."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, love," the ghost cheekily said, which made her toss a glare in his direction.

"And I should take your word for it because?" the witch was still looking down at her with a hostile glare in her gaze. Jess sighed.

"Look, I don't know much about witchcraft, and he's very knowledgeable," she began. "I trust only him to judge your skills." She felt the change in the ghost's feelings as soon as the words left her mouth. There was a wave of an emotion she couldn't really identify, but it was a warm one. Like a blanket enveloping her.

"Tell her my name," the ghost said, his voice suddenly lacking any urgency and sass. It was a much lower tone that the one he usually used, as well. "Tell her it's Kol Mikaelson."

"He says his name would convince you," Jess added before the witch could refuse the offer.

"Oh?"

"Kol Mikaelson."

Jess sat down on the comfortable two-seater sofa in the witch's den, it had a wooden frame and a floral pattern in browns, golds and oranges. It looked antique, like everything else in the house. There was an air to the space, some kind of ancient hum which she couldn't help but respect. The witch came back into the room, carrying a tray. Her name was Odette Chevalier and she had proven most welcoming when she'd learned of the ghost's name.

"Now, tell me the whole story," Odette said, sitting down and taking one of the teacups, putting in three cubes of sugar. Jess took a breath and then nodded.

"Well, last night when I was coming home from work, someone grabbed me," she began. "They were two men, one Caucasian the other African-American, and they managed to knock me out. I woke up in an old house on the outskirts of Seattle, in the basement. I managed to get out of there while they were distracted, waiting for something I think," she took her cup of tea, forgoing the sugar and drank some. It burned her tongue, but broke through the haze of her sleepy state. "I don't think that they expected me to have help. They were certain that they had restrained me enough with metal bars and handcuffs."

"Witches?" Odette asked.

"I'm not certain about the coven, but they were definitely witches," Kol spoke up from his spot, leaning against the side of the fireplace. "They had the ingredients for a spell in the living room." Jess nodded to him.

"Kol says that they were definitely witches and that they had been preparing to do a spell," she relayed.

"A spell?" Odette frowned. "Do you know what kind?"

"Well," Jess trailed off, glancing at Kol. "I'm not very familiar with anything witchy…"

"Sacrificial magic of some sort," the vampire supplied, giving her a pointed look. It clearly spelled that she owed him for that one. "I made two rounds of the room, but I could only see the general idea, because they had the ingredients laid out but not the whole spell." Jess relayed the information to the witch.

"I see," Odette mused, drinking her tea. "You would like a protection spell against them? Or a cloaking one?" Again, Jess glanced at the ghost.

"Both, ideally," she told the woman after a brief consultation with the spirit. Odette smiled, shaking her head.

"Let's get it set up, then," she said and stood, using the armrest of the sofa chair for support. Then, she vanished down the hallway, before reappearing again. Odette brought in a wooden box, laid it on the coffee table and went back the way she came. The next time, she returned with a bowl and some jars. Finally, she fetched a piece of paper and a pen. After a moment of writing in silence, she presented the sheet to Jess. "Will this be satisfactory?"

Jess took the paper tentatively, glancing at Kol yet again, but he was already crossing the room in long strides. She felt him lean down, his head next to hers as he inspected the spells on the sheet. All ghosts were cold. It was something akin to passing through really thick mist if one accidentally went through a spirit. However, it was altogether unpleasant. There was also a wave of emotions which ghosts were unable to hide in their undead state. And what Jess could feel from her Mr. poltergeist at that moment was calm. A cool calm and confidence, vast like an ocean and just as deep. It was the knowledge he had accumulated, she realized. He felt comfortable and confident in it, knowing his skills precisely. For the first time, glimpsing into that deep cool abyss, Jess felt that she wasn't just dealing with a petulant child. This was a ghost who had had centuries to his name before he'd passed. It wasn't that he knew ancient things, he was the ancient thing. And, for the first time in his presence, she was intimidated.

"She can do better," Kol finally said with a huff. "This is basic stuff. Ask her for a piece of paper and a pen, I'll tell you the spell and she can do it," his tone was commanding. There was no room for argument. He was the one, not the witch and most certainly not Jess, who held the most knowledge in this room. And, he knew it.

"May I have a piece of paper, please?" she asked the witch, who nodded and handed her a sheet. Jess bent forward, placing it onto the coffee table next to the tray with the tea.

"Follow my finger with the pen and trace the symbols," Kol instructed. Then, the tip of his finger touched the page and Jess followed the path he showed her with the pen. Symbols appeared on the page, complex twists and turns of sigils and markings Jess had never seen before. Kol dictated phrases in a language she had never heard of, correcting her spelling at times and showing her where to jot them down on the page. Finally, in about five minutes, he was done. Jess handed the paper to the witch. Odette took it and smiled.

"Kol Mikaelson," she said in an almost nostalgic, warm tone, "all the stories I've heard about you appear to be true." Jess glanced at the ghost, who looked beyond smug, giving her a nonchalant shrug. "This is old, Ancient Magick. It will take quite a bit to cast them," Odette looked up at Jess. "What will you give me in return?"

"How about I solve your attic issue?" the medium suggested, doing her best not to smirk knowingly when she noticed the shock on the woman's face.

"You… can tell?"

"It's hard to miss," Jess admitted. The presence had been there since the moment she entered. It was something pretty nasty, by the look of things. A proper poltergeist, she figured. Perhaps an earthbound spirit, though. She could feel its eyes following every single thing in the house.

"Alright," Odette agreed. "I will get started with these," she nodded to the paper. "Would you like to see the attic first? Since the preparation for these spells will take some time, and for one of them you will need to take a bath. Also, this house is heavily protected and cloaked, so there is no need for urgency."

"I'll see the attic first, then," Jess agreed, breathing a sigh of relief.

Kol watched as Jessica entered the attic and sat in the middle of the room cross-legged, on the dusty floorboards. He could feel the presence now that they were upstairs. It wasn't sinister, but it wasn't pleasant either. He would bet that it had been a summoned spirit at one time. A guest asked to guide a witch who worked with divination or spiritual magic in their spells. But, the presence had lost its focus and at this point, it seemed to Kol as merely a feeling of uneasiness. He was mildly impressed that Jessica had noticed it and been able to barter with the witch by using its presence.

"Alright," Jessica murmured, to herself or to the spirit, he wasn't certain. "Talk to me, I'm open." She tapped her knee with her fingers. Odette left them, walking back downstairs to work on the spells, with one last look at the medium. The door of the attic closed behind her. That was when it happened.

The light in the middle of the room, which had been turned on, swung wildly, flickered and went out, leaving them in the dark. Kol sought out the windows, small circular things he'd noticed while they were approaching the place, but they were covered in thick curtains. Jessica, though, didn't seem bothered by the reaction of the presence. Then, the shaking came. A knocking, like someone rapping their knuckles on the door could be heard from all around them. Doors and drawers of numerous dressers and nightstands discarded at the attic opened and closed by themselves. Items fell over, rolled around the floor. Something made of glass shattered to the far left.

"Jessica, you should get out of here," Kol crouched by the medium, reaching for her. He didn't like the strength of the tether this apparition had to the world of the living.

"I'm okay," she reassured him. "You should go, though. I'm not sure how ugly this could get. It seems like they've tried to banish it numerous times." Jessica tossed him a smile, and Kol contemplated the option. "Go, check on the witch and the spell. I'll handle this."

"If it gets dangerous, you get out of here," he told her, waiting until she nodded before leaving. As he phased through the closed door, he saw Jessica's head drop back, eyes wide and looking at the ceiling, but he doubted that she was seeing it. Kol, for the first time, realized that Jessica wasn't all spunk and friendly conversations with neighborhood ghosts. She was a proper medium and she knew what she was doing.

Kol walked down the steps, admiring the house as he went. It had been truly well restored. It reminded him of the last time he had been awake, before Nik had so rudely daggered him for his little misstep. The creaky wooden stairs, the pictures depicting different ancestors, the Persian carpets in red, brown and black. Yes, it was an old house. A spelled witch's house. He had always enjoyed those.

The spells themselves were rather complex, he could recall the ages when the witches started writing and using them, but they were a trend back in the day. Around the 16th or 17th century was when one couldn't walk into a witch home without it being spelled, if he was recalling that right. The complex spellwork would allow the house to almost become a sentient being, protecting its inhabitants. He could recall an occasion when he'd been staying with his witch friend in one such place, around the end of the 17th century, when Nik and Elijah had found him and attempted to dagger him. The house had spit them out like the unwelcome trash they had been, tossing them onto the sidewalk and slamming the door in their face, even after they'd been invited in. Marvelous spellwork, truly.

Kol walked into the den, where he found Odette bent over the spells he'd helped Jessica write for her. The woman had started with the simplest concoction, the one meant for a bath. The entire house shook, a screech coming from the attic. Kol resisted the urge to go back upstairs, instead sitting on the sofa and watching the witch. Odette glanced at the swinging chandelier, but then returned to her work.

Rosemary, rue, lavender, fresh basil and mint. She tossed them into a mortar and recited the spell as she mixed them and ground them together. The smell of the herbs mixing spread throughout the room, making Kol sigh. The sweet memories. He could remember the time when he'd learned that one. It was a long, long time ago. The 12th century. A coven of aspiring witches had welcomed him, taught him about the magic they practiced in exchange for his own knowledge and then sent him on his way. He could remember the women in the white dresses, dancing in the meadow during their new moon rituals, lanterns aflame. He could recall them shedding their robes and basking in the energies which came from the heavens at that time of renewal. The new moon, after all, was even more powerful than the full one for certain types of magic. It was the perfect moment for cleansing and sharpening senses, embracing the power that they had been given. He missed the feelings which came from the cycles of the moon. He missed the surge of strength he would gain when basking in the light outside. He missed it all.

Odette sighed, covering the mortar with a cloth and laying it to the side. She moved onto the next spell. It was one of medium complexity, trapped into a bottle to be carried around in one's pocket. Dill, cinnamon, sea salt, basil, black pepper and dried onion, Kol counted the ingredients. Then, she murmured the words he'd had jotted down for her. Finally, she lit a black candle and sealed the bottle with wax, leaving it with a press of her lips to the mass when it cooled. Her own addition, he figured. She probably used kisses in her other spells, as well.

The house shook again, a long wail coming from the attic. This time, neither of them glanced up. Kol mused on the topic of kisses in magic as Odette continued onto the last spell he'd had written down for Jess. Kisses were like seals, as well. They left lingering intent in the magic, amplifying it further. If Odette used them, she likely was rather powerful. He could see that she had the knowledge, but he hoped, for Jess' sake, that she also had the strength needed. Footsteps, a little irregular and rather loud, came from the direction of the stairs.

"All done," Jess came back into the room, a smile on her face, her clothes and hair disheveled. She still looked just as tired as before, but there was a certain energy about her. Like she had been revitalized, more than what that Red Cow drink had done for her.

"It's gone?" Odette asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, no," Jess shook her head. "I'm afraid that it won't leave. Something about it having the right to remain here. However, I managed to convince it to enter a medium which could be used in spellwork," Jess extended an antique silver fork to the woman. "I hope this is fine? It was the only thing I could find which it liked enough."

"A… fork?" Odette was befuddled. Kol coughed out a chuckle, attempting to cover it up as a proper coughing fit. Witch's ghosts usually came in more elegant mediums, like skulls, crystals, golden or silver jewelry, and so on. The object itself could be used as an amplification item, which made them popular in all kinds of practices. However, this was a first for him, seeing a spirit willingly be bound to a fork. He supposed that, with it being antique and silver, it could be counted as a valuable?

"Yep," Jess nodded. The witch took the fork and immediately the lights flickered and there was a buzz of magic in the air. "Oh, and, he likes to be referred to as Lord Henry," the medium added with a cheeky smirk. Kol couldn't restrain himself, he bent over, wheezing in laughter.

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