*** I would really appreciate a review, I'd love to know what you guys think!***

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She didn't remember if she had tried to steal from people's pockets before, but she was good at it. She tried not to think too much about anything – she had done more immoral and directly evil things in the last 30 hours than most people did in their entire lives. After around seven hours, pick pocketing from people in downtown Vancouver she gathered she had enough money to get out of there. For a while she considered going to New York and make herself a life. Pick a name, an identity and just disappear in the crowd. But as she entered the bus station and went to the long line of people about to get away, she couldn't let herself do it. She had to know who she was. And the only lead she had was the wooden horse. New Orleans. Niklaus Mikaelson. When she reached the cashier she grabbed most of the money from her pocket and took a deep breath.

"New Orleans. One way."

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It took her 47 hours to get to New Orleans from Vancouver. She had to change bus in Austin, but apart from the few hours spend in Austin Bus Central, she had slept pretty much the entire time. She was exhausted. Now she was stuck in a town she didn't know with almost no money and no identity. She only had about five dollars left, just enough to grab a cup of coffee and some breakfast. I have nothing, she thought, nothing. Weirdly enough she didn't feel sorry for herself, she didn't feel like she was missing something – she had never had anything, as far as she remembered, so there was nothing to miss, nothing to compare to.

For a while she wandered around downtown New Orleans, looking for any kind of authority to ask about Niklaus Mikaelson. Finally she eyed a cop, and practically had to run after him, to catch him before he disappeared in the crowd.

"Sir!" she yelled, trying to catch her breath. The cop turned around, looking at her suspiciously. She realized how she must look in his eyes – unwashed hair, dirty clothes that was too big, tired eyes.

"I'm looking for Niklaus Mikaelson," she said slowly and recognition – and disgust – appeared in the cop's eyes.

"Klaus lives in the French Quarter," he snapped and hurried away, mumbling about how it couldn't be possible that he had to deal with all those awful creatures on a daily basis. He must know, she thought, and he must hate it.

"You and me both, brother," she mumbled and sighed hopelessly. This was a shot in the dark. The way Davina spoke of Klaus didn't exactly suggest that he was a kind man. Davina was afraid of him.

"Maybe I'll get lucky," she mumbled to herself, "maybe he'll kill me and save me from all the trouble."

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It wasn't as easy to get to Klaus as she first expected when she left Vancouver. She had to get past a pretty impressive number of really creepy bodyguard-guys, but luckily, she apparently was born with amazing persuading skills. And a temper – she realized this when she, sick and tired of being bossed around all day by intimidating guys, pushed her way past a tall man and went straight in the door to this powerful Niklaus Mikaelsons office. It was obvious that all the people she had talked her way through the entire day was loyal to this man to a point where they would die for him. She didn't understand why – working for him was just a job, wasn't it? – until she met him in person. Even as he sat there behind the big oak desk, he looked powerful. He was obviously agile, strong, even though he at first glance seemed skinny and boned. His entire posture radiated power, charm, malice. He was the most dangerous combination of a man, both wicked and persuasive. A psychopath. She could feel it, just by looking at him. His curly, blond hair was almost angelic, but the devil was shining from his blue eyes, as he looked up at the intruder and smiled a quirky, wry smile. The tall man who guarded the door bumped into the office.

"Sir, I am awfully sorry. She took me by surprise, I'll get rid of her," he stammered, grabbing her arm. He was strong – superhuman strong. She couldn't help but gasp.

"No need, Toma," he waved at the guy who let go of her – she rubbed her arm to get rid of the pain, "I admire a brave soul. Even a reckless wolf soul." The guy, Toma, disappeared as fast as he got there and they were alone. She suddenly didn't know how to express herself. What was she supposed to say?

"Are you here to give me your allegiance?" Klaus asked with a strong British accent, not taking his eyes from the papers in front of him. She couldn't help but laugh at his old-fashioned ways and his gaze immediately fell on her.

"Am I amusing you, young wolf?"

"Ehm… no," she said, "I'm not here to give you my… allegiance. I'm here to get some answers."

"That sounds like wolf-business. I rarely intervene in those," he sounded like he was bored.

"I was told to come see you. Da… someone told me that you could give me my answers."

"Sweetheart, I do not have time to answer your silly questions. I have plots to create, people to kill. Now, off you go." She snapped. She had been tossed around in a world that made no sense for days and she wasn't able to take any more bull.

"No, you listen to me!" she hissed and again his eyes fell on her, this time with surprise, "I woke up five days ago laying on a table with some crazy ass witch basically magically sticking knives into my body repeatedly, so I had to kill her. Then I find out that I'm in a cabin in a fucking Canadian wood! I don't remember anything, okay? I don't even remember my name! Everything that happened more than five days ago is just gone. I have been breaking every bone in my body turning into a wolf, walked round a forest for hours, then spent more than two days on a bus, just to get to speak to you! So you better just listen to me, Mikaelson, 'cuz I am done with bullshit!" A surprised wrinkle showed up on his forehead, before his entire face turned dark.

"Now, now, little wolf, what makes you think I will tell you what you need? I never do anything for free," he sounded more evil than she thought possible and she felt her mouth dry out. Before she could chicken out she grabbed the wooden horse from her pocket and placed it on the table.

"I was told that you would tell me who I am, if I showed you this," her voice was hoarse, low. Then, before she could even get anything, she was pressed towards the wall, Klaus' hand around her throat. She gasped for air.

"Where did you get that?!" he howled, showing to be the monster she sensed in him from the minute she walked in the door.

"I don't know," she gasped, "I had it when I woke up. I told you, I don't remember anything!" He stared at her with his eyes an alarming yellow, before slowly loosing his grip. His pupils expanded and she felt her free will float from her body.

"Where did you wake up?" he asked.

"A cabin in a wood about an hour from Vancouver," she immediately answered.

"In which direction did you go to get to Vancouver?"

"West."

"Do you remember the route?"

"Route 6."

"Who told you about me?"

"A witch named Davina," she promised not to tell – but she couldn't help it. He let her go from the mind control and she felt the terrible helplessness overwhelm her.

"What did you do?" she whispered – she had promised herself not to rat Davina out.

"I compelled you," Klaus said matter-of-factly and returned to his majestic desk, "a little vampire trick you wouldn't be aware of if you really don't remember anything, young wolf." She felt her head spin. It couldn't be true. But then again… she did have paws at full moon.

"Vampire?"

"Indeed, sweetheart."

"So… you're a vampire? And your guys…?"

"Oh well, my guys are all vampires, yes. A few are wolves like you, though. But I… I am a hybrid. A mix of both. Which makes me extraordinary powerful," he smiled that wicked smile and sat behind the desk, "now, I really do not have any more time to waste on this irrelevant matter. Off you go."

"But you haven't told me anything!"

"I do not know anything about you. I have never seen you before in my thousand years on this planet."

"And what about that thing?" she asked, pointing at the wooden horse.

"That is simply a creation that comes along with something very precious to me, that I seem to have lost. Nothing for you to worry about. Now, go."

"But why did I have it?!" she wasn't gonna give up – she had come this far.

"That is a mystery that yet remains to be solved," he said indifferent.

"That can't be all," she hissed, "there has to be more!"

"Toma!" Klaus called annoyed – the bodyguard vampire showed up in a nanosecond, "the little wolf seems to have forgotten where the exit is. Will you please show her the way?" Toma grabbed her arm and she couldn't help it: she fought against him.

"Now, don't fuss, love," Klaus said without looking up as she was dragged out of the office, "this is, after all, my city, and I will know."

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As in Vancouver she ended up in a bar. She didn't have any money left, but she sat at the bar, hoping someone would by her a drink or at least pass by her close enough so that she could buy herself a drink for their money.

"Are you 21, honey?" the female bartender, a woman with beautiful dark skin and curly hair, asked.

"22," she answered indifferent – how was she supposed to know? – and rested her head in her hands. Could this day get crappier?

"You do know that werewolves not loyal to Klaus aren't allowed in this city, right?" the bartender said, surprisingly openly. The girl looked around and immediately sensed it: a very few people in this place were human and those who were, were witches. She just knew.

"Great," she mumbled annoyed, "walk into a random bar, end up in the supernatural Makah. Does this mean I'll get free drinks?" The witch just smiled and shook her head.

"Sorry, honey, that's not how we play here."

"I am so tired of witches today, okay? So please, don't get on my bad side. The last person I killed was a witch," she sighed.

"Duly noted, wolf-girl. You still won't get a free drink, though," the witch shrugged.

"I'll buy you a drink," a voice interrupted and a dark-haired chick with brownish eyes and full lips sat next to her, "you look like you've had a tough day."

"Yeah. I dealt with this really obnoxious hybrid on a power trip. Exhausting."

"Since I'm the only other hybrid in town, you must be talking about Klaus," the chick laughed, "don't worry about him. He's an ass, but if you don't cross him, he got it all in the mouth. I would know, I deal with him on a daily basis."

"Yeah? Why?" the girl asked and sipped on the drink the witch brought.

"I sorta live with him. Sometimes."

"You live with that thing?! Really?"

"It's a long story," the chick shrugged and grabbed some peanuts from a bowl, "let's just say we have mutual interests. I'm Hayley, by the way."

"I'm no one," the girl sighed and emptied her glass.

"What do you mean, no one?" Hayley asked and again the girl had to tell the story of the cabin in Canada.

"That sucks," Hayley mumbled and pushed the bowl with peanuts towards the girl.

"Yup."

"But you're a wolf?"

"So I'm told."

"And you really believe your answers are here in New Orleans?"

"It's all I got."

"Well," Hayley said matter-of-factly, "in that case I should probably take you to the bayou."

"The bayou?"

"Were the werewolves lives," she said, ""we'll make you a home there." The girl was taken by surprise by Hayley's kindness.

"Really?"

"We wolves take care of our own," Hayley smiled and got up, "you coming?"

Out on the street Hayley suddenly stopped and turned around.

"You should probably pick a name," she said and smiled, "make it good. You don't get to change it." The girl looked around, not really caring what her self chosen name was, because she knew it wasn't her real name – it couldn't be – and was about to say Mary, the first thing that popped into her mind, when she saw a sign over a bar. White Jasmine. She couldn't help but smile.

"Jasmine," she said and Hayley's face lit up in a smile.

"Jasmine. Jazz. I like it."

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