"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake."

-Napoléon Bonaparte-

"Not that it's any of your business," drawled Marcel as he began to pace back and forth, as if he were about to give the most prolific closing argument, of his long life, before a waiting grand jury. "But, now that I possess the necessary means to help anyone stupid enough to cross me meet their end, I'm not backing down. I'm taking back my city and if I have to, I'm taking down the Mikaelsons. Their reign ends here."

Cheers rang out around the room as the barricaded vampires expressed their excitement at Marcel's impassioned words. Swinging his arms out around him towards the cheering crowds, he continued his speech.

"The icing on all of this is that Klaus' own sire-lings get to bear witness to their maker's, and his family's downfall. I—"

Yet, before he could finish, Arsetti cut him off with another question. She really didn't care one way or another about his petty agenda. After all, he was just a means to an end. However, she did care about something he had said in the mists of his long-winded spiel.

"Marcel, what means do you think you have?" She asked carefully.

"As far as I know, there is only one thing that can kill an original; and to be quite honest, you're not strong enough to take them down with it—even if you had it in your possession," she scoffed, as she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

Raising her eyebrow, and crossing her arms under her bosom, she derided, "so, enlighten me and everyone else here with what this weapon you supposedly have is."

Clearing his throat, Vincent shook his head. Sighing heavily, whether it was the situation in front of him or at his own folly that led to this showdown he was unsure—yet, he sought to explain his part. He only hoped that the new Queen would be as merciful as the last one was—pertaining to his punishment.

"This is all my fault," Vincent began solemnly. "I thought I was doing a good thing giving Marcel that serum, but I had no idea this would be his intentions for it. But, to make a long-story short, and to answer your question, it's venom."

Slowly, his eyes drifted over to meet Elijah's, conveying an unspoken message within his otherwise somber expression.

"And it's strong enough to kill anything, even an original." He watched as the older original's eyes narrowed in thought and both his younger brother's eyebrows raised in surprise at the new information being given.

Seeing the question in their eyes, Vincent added, "and before any of you ask; no, there is no cure. If Marcel bites you, you will die."

Looking back to Arsetti, who had been quietly taking in all this new information, he apologized. "Like I said before, I had no idea that he was gonna do this and all of this happened before I knew you had even returned. I never would have done it otherwise; and for that I'm so sorry."

Nodding her head in understanding, the young Queen waved him off and turned her attention back to the now smirking Marcel. Scoffing, she prepared to address the current issue head on.

Outside she could hear the French Quarter witches' chants and could see that both barriers were still holding strong.

Interrupting her thoughts, the cocky super vamp addressed the regent, but his actual target had been the Voodoo Queen herself.

Snidely, he heckled, "who is she to be apologizing to? It's none of her business. I'm not changing my stance on any of this and whoever gets in my way will get cut down like a dry rotted tree." Then turning his attention to Arsetti, he smirked coldly.

His eyes betraying his thoughts even before the words left his lips, but the warning was still the same.

Darkly, he threatened, "so, if you don't want to die where you stand, I suggest you leave and take your coven with you."

Aloofly, Arsetti stared him down. Unafraid of his measly little threat on her life. He had no idea of just what he was dealing with, nor who. She had decided that she would take the upmost pleasure in wiping that smug smile off his face. She would make him wish he had never uttered those words. Hell, he would wish he were never born, by the time she was finished torturing him.

However, with bulging eyes, a nervous Vincent interceded,hissing, "Marcel are you crazy? You can't go around making those kinds of threats, especially not to her. There's no way in hell I can save you from her wrath if you keep this up."

Sighing, he ran a shaky hand through his hair in frustration. In more calmness than he felt, at the moment, he reasoned. "This is not someone you want as an enemy, trust me. This is a woman that you would want as your ally. So, just, save yourself some pain and back down; do whatever it is she tells you to. Be smart Marcel."

Elijah's wheels began to turn as he took in the scene before him. The way Vincent practically pleaded with Marcel to not open Pandora's box, as it pertained to the young woman before him. Looking around, he also noticed the other man that had entered the Mikaelson manor with them.

He was tall and trim. His long purple and magenta hair had been pulled back into a sleek ponytail. He tapped his long rhinestone covered brightly painted nails against the buckle of his expensive purse, as he too, took in the scene with a serene smile.

Noticing Elijah's stare, Fe' looked in his direction, winked, and blew him a kiss.

Frowning thoughtfully, the elder original brought his attention back to the intriguing young woman. Who, if he had to guess, Vincent seemed rather afraid of. Turning to his brothers he could see from their expressions that their thoughts were similar to his own.

"I'm guessing that by both of your expressions, neither of you have any idea as to who this girl might be," Elijah observed astutely.

"I saw her at Rousseau's the night of Camille's funeral," supplied Klaus thoughtfully. "It was odd actually. She was surrounded by witches almost the entire night," he recalled with a slight frown. He had purposely left out the part where he tricked her into owing him a debt. He didn't think his brothers needed to be privy to that little tidbit of information.

Kol tried everything he could to keep from pacing, as he processed what Klaus had reveled and the events that they were currently witnessing. Rubbing the bridge of his nose in growing agitation, he carefully queried, "those witches you saw around her, they weren't by chance bowing or giving her gifts—were they?"

As he waited what felt like years for his brother to answer, he hoped like hell Niklaus would say no because the other option would be too horrible to even deign to imagine.

Unbidden, his mind traveled back to a time where he and Elijah had encountered such a woman and it caused an involuntary shiver to course down his spine. There were very few beings in this world that truly frightened the immortal. In fact, before that, he would have said only their parents could inspire such soul screaming fear.

However, after that fateful day many—many years ago, he and Elijah swore they would never tell another soul of what they witnessed and after that day his family wasn't the only thing the youngest Mikaelson feared.

Nodding, completely unaware of his brother's inner turmoil, Klaus replied, "yes. As a matter of fact, they were."

At his admission, Kol's heart dropped. Horrified, he whispered, "Elijah, it's her."

Shocked, the older Mikaelson didn't have to be reminded of the her Kol had been referring to. Instead, cautiously he inquired. "Are you sure Kol? While, I do admit the similarities between them, I do not believe they are in fact the same individual."

Now in full panic, the youngest brother pointed to Arsetti. "Look at her tattoos. Elijah, it's her. She's one of them, if not the one," he whisper-argued alarmed.

Coming to stand next to his debating brothers, a slightly confused Klaus asked, "she's who Kol?"

"She's a goddamn monster. That's what she is," exclaimed Kol, only to realize belatedly the unintended volume of his voice. In a much softer voice, he continued, "if Marcel keeps poking that hornets' nest, that girl will kill everyone in this room—including us."

"Kol," Elijah warned calmly.

Rounding back onto his brother, the youngest Mikaelson snapped. "No, Elijah. You know what a girl like that is capable of. We've seen it—felt it. There is no way in hell I'm dying because Marcel is a dumbass and has no clue who he just threatened."

Frustrated at not receiving any reliable answer, Klaus turned his attention to Elijah as well.

"Tell me, brother; who is she?" He asked in a barely strained voice, emphasizing the last part.

Running a calm hand through his hair, Elijah didn't deter in his cool visage. "We think she might be a family member of the strongest woman we ever met. I can not recall her first name, but I do remember that her last name was LeRoux," he explained patiently.

"And if she is then it means she might be the Queen of New Orleans. Which means that we are royally fucked," added Kol, still with barely contained panic.

"New Orleans has a Queen?" Smirked Klaus arching a brow.

"Brother, it has always had a Queen," supplied Elijah cryptically. However, before more could be said Arsetti's voice thundered down on the room.

"You have no idea who you're even talking to, nor what you're even talking about. You can NOT run or reclaim a city that has never belonged to you in the first place," maintained the young Queen.

Her calm facade was quickly fading in the wake of her growing rage at Marcel's audacity. It was times such as now where her razor-sharp tongue and bone chilling coldness would show themselves. Arsetti had a way with words that would exploit even the toughest person's deepest secret vulnerabilities, and now would be no exception.

Laughing darkly, she jeered haughtily. "You are nothing. Not a king or even a real threat. All you are, is an angry little child forever in his own family's shadow. Never good enough to actually be a Mikaelson and trying desperately to fill that missing piece," scoffing, she rolled her eyes. "You're nothing more than a hurt little boy—lashing out at the world because his daddy didn't love him enough."

The energy in the room began to shift, bunching and coiling around the room like a snake waiting to attack. Even the air became more stifled as everyone's anticipation grew to new heights.

Baring his fangs Marcel had enough. What she had said was a harsh truth that he tried to keep buried deep inside. Yet, she had so callously called him out in front of everyone and made his insecurities known to the entire room. He didn't care who she was, for that, she had to die.

Seeing everything unfold before his eyes, Kol did the only thing he could think of at the moment.

"Marcel, you stupid wanker! You are literally about to sign your own death warrant if you attack her!" Yelled a pleading Kol. "You're just going to piss her off."

However, his words were lost over the roaring of the vampires as they egged on the impending battle. Each eager to see the witch brought to her knees by Marcel.

On swift legs he lunged for the Queen, as she stood perfectly still. Yet, he hadn't been quick enough.

Arsetti's eyes flashed white and wind began to sweep across the room. Looking Marcel straight in his eyes, she lifted her delicate hand. Her tattoos began to sway gently in time with the blowing breeze, as hot searing pain swept through his body.

Frozen, from fright or pain, his bloodcurdling screams filled the room. One by one his limbs began to twist and bend unnaturally, as the sound of his breaking bones rivaled his screams in volume. One by one, joint by joint, they broke. Then the bones would relocate just to break all over again. Every finger, toe, kneecap, ankle, elbow, and shoulder blade; if it could bend, Arsetti broke it.

Fe' and Vincent stood century, prepared to intervene if needed.

Not one to sit idly by, Klaus tried to leap into action, determined to put a stop to this. However, he found himself quickly brought to his knees. Hot white pain raced up his spine to pool in his head. It had felt as if his very brain were on fire. Quickly, he grabbed his head feeling that blood had begun to seep from his ears.

"Oh, no, honey," chided Fe' cheerfully with his hands extended and his eyes flashing a preternatural cinnamon. "We can't have you spoiling this here good time. So, y'all are gonna sit here and watch like everybody else."

Slowly, Klaus tried to fight against the magic and after a while was able to turn his head enough to see that both his brothers had been restrained in the same manor, by both Vincent, the other more effeminate male and a newcomer.

She stood regally next to Vincent, clad in an expensive silk blouse and perfectly tailored pinstriped trousers. Her long ebony mane pulled back into a neat ponytail. He hadn't even noticed her before and had to assume that she had entered after the initial explosion. What fascinated him the most had to be her fangs. Yet, at the moment he found his attention pulled away from the dark haired beauty and drawn back to the other intriguing young woman currently torturing his progeny mercilessly.

In a voice that roared like thunder over the room. Arsetti condemned, "you might be strong Marcel but you will never be stronger than us. It is by our will alone that you even exist and our power which flows through your veins. With out us, that venom you carry would not exist and you would be nothing more than a regular vampire with daddy issues. By that alone, you will never, nor can you ever, be a king to my city. And for your crimes against the French Quarter witches in my absence, I have every right to sentence you to death."

With that, his body began to rise higher in the air as his screams grew more tortured in volume. Faster and faster the magnolia tattoos swayed on the Voodoo Queen, almost as if caught in the middle of a strong storm.

"Don't," shouted Klaus, all to aware of the killing blow she had been about to deliver Marcel.

Never taking her eyes off of her target, she questioned, "why? Why should I spare him? I could have sworn he was about to kill you and your brothers just before I got here, and yet you're still asking me not to kill him?"

Sighing, Klaus pulled the only cards he knew he had—hoping like hell it would work. "Because," he began slowly. "Because he's my son and because you owe me."

Smirking, Arsetti fought not to show the absolute elation she felt. Fe' had been right, using Marcel to get out of debt with Klaus had worked perfectly. She never had any real intention of killing him, but she did want to torture him for what he had done to the witches.

That was something that was unacceptable and for that he would pay.

Sighing deeply, she played her part of the pissed of Queen to a tee, huffing, "fine. I won't kill him. But as long as he feels that he has the venom to kill, he'll never stop trying to claim the city. And that is something that I just can't allow."

Painstakingly slow, she lowered Marcel until he stood before her. Raising her hands, she used one to grab him by the throat and the other to pry open his mouth. Eyes flashing white once more, she forced his body to bare his fangs. Everyone watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as his veins began to swell beneath his skin; turning black as they became visible. The black substance moved towards his head until it had collected within his fangs and his veins disappeared back underneath his skin.

Viciously, Arsetti snatched both fangs from his mouth. "If you have no fangs you can cause no more problems," she laughed chillingly, as Fe' looked on proudly and Aura nodded in approval. "Don't worry, you'll get them back once I feel you have learned your lesson. Until then, you get the pleasure of enjoying all of your meals with decorative straws."

With that, she snapped his neck and tossed his body away from her, like one would bat away a fly. His crumpled unconscious form landed right in front of Elijah.

Now that that had been settled, she focused her attention on the vampires still trapped within the barriers.

Smiling softly, even as they roared their anger, she began politely, "okay, as for the rest of you; abandon this sad ass, 'woe is me my sire's an asshole' so I want him dead mission and just leave New Orleans."

"Look," she continued, even as they raged against the barrier and called her every foul name in the world, in just as many languages. "None of you have any right to put anyone on trial for their crimes when you have spelt just as much, if not, more blood. What's done is done. So, just move on. I mean, if you still feel bitter about it then by all mean hunt his ass down; track him any where in the world and make him pay, if you think you can. Any where but, here, in New Orleans."

Angered by her words, the vampires began shouting their displeasure. However, it was one voice that stood out among them all.

"I will rip out your fucking heart and eat it, you witch-bitch," yelled a deep baritone from somewhere in the back.

Shocked but not surprised, Arsetti sought diplomacy. "Excuse me," she began nonchalantly. Raising her hand above her eyes like a visor, she scanned the crowd trying to see if she could find the face to match the voice. However, there was just too many of them. So, instead, she tried a different approach.

Pleasantly, she asked, "could the vampire who said that please step forward. I can't see you with these human eyes of mine and I'd like to discuss this matter like adults. I really feel like we can reach an agreement."

Dramatically, the crowd parted, and a giant of a vampire made his way up to the front of the barrier. His bald head glistened under the manor lights. Not only was he tall but also quite stocky, as if he could have been a club bouncer or maybe someone's bodyguard.

"Jeez, what beanstalk did he fall from," quipped Arsetti, as she took in her antagonist's form. She heard Fe's whisper of, " Fe, fi, fo fum" and tried her hardest not to laugh; even though she had been thinking the exact same thing.

Clearing her throat, she asked calmly, "so, can you repeat exactly what you said? I just want to make sure that I heard you right."

Yet, instead of an answer he spit at the barrier and called her a bitch—again.

Faster than he could grind bones to make his bread, Arsetti's eyes flashed and lightning rained down on the bald giant. Everyone watched in twisted horror as his body was ripped apart before exploding like shattered glass.

Holding out her hand, the Voodoo Queen caught his heart and while smiling at the crowd—bit into it. As blood trickled down her chin, she addressed the now horrified onlookers.

"You know, I tried to be nice about this," she began, then stopped to take another bite of the giant's heart.

After swallowing, she continued crestfallen, "I really did, but it seems like we just aren't gonna come to an understanding, are we?"

Smirking, Klaus watched in morbid fascination as she continued to consume the heart until she had eaten it all. He was shocked that anyone aside from himself would do such a thing and, to say the least, she now had his full attention. He had initially thought that she would be demure and let Vincent or the other guy with her fight her battle but he had been wrong—very wrong. She not only was no coward; she also possessed a brutality that could rival any Mikaelson. Quirking a brow, he left his thoughts on the intriguing Queen to focus back on what she would do next.

"Bloody Hell," gasped Kol in awe and terror at the Queen's brutal display. "She's going to kill us all."

Sparing him a look, before turning her attention back to Arsetti, Aura had to wonder just what the hell had happened in the short time she had left the manor that would make her friend display such a brutal show of force.

Laughing maniacally, Arsetti flicked the blood from her hands. "Ah, fuck it," she huffed as the magnolia branches began to spread down her body and her eyes, once again, bled to white. Lynched skeletons began to appear from the branches, their faces twisted in grotesque shrieks as they dangled seemingly caught in the same winds as the blossoms.

"I was gonna let you leave, but now—now, I'm going to make you watch as I rip your body limb from limb and devour your fucking souls," she promised in a sinister and unnaturally deep voice.

And as the branches reached her feet, the vampires closest to her barrier burst into flames.

A/N: Soooo...What did you guys think? I'd love to know! I would say poor Marcel but...well, he was being cocky and that's exactly what being cocky gets you. Anyway, next chapter we'll find out what our Voodoo Queen has planned for the rest of the vampires. You won't want to missed the next chapter of Treme`