Bring Me To Life
Long Way Back From Hell:
"Eat." Marcel ordered sternly as he set a porcelain plate down in front of the brunette witch sitting on the opposite side of the counter and she pursed her lips in slight annoyance as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. The delicious smell of crispy bacon wafted from the plate set in front of her, coupled with handmade pancakes and fresh cut fruit, it looked as though it could've been photographed for a magazine. Normally, she would've been thrilled to be on the receiving end of one of Marcel's meals, having tasted one of his home-cooking more than once but she knew that he had only put in the effort because he felt sorry for her.
"I'm not hungry, Marcel." Imogen said in a small voice, the grief evident in her voice as she tried to push the plate back across the counter. There was a part in the back of her mind that knew his concern was probably justified, she hadn't exactly handled Davina's death with the class she normally exhibited.
Learning about Sophie's death had sent a sharp pain through her chest, like getting struck by an arrow out of nowhere but she buried her emotions down deep underneath the hardened exterior and compartmentalised it to the back of her mind to deal with at a later date. The French Quarter was in the middle of a civil war and she was one of the key players in the fight to rid Celeste back to the depths of hell. If she was going to be at the top of her game, she needed to think about everything logically and prioritise what was most important aspect of her life. Everything Imogen had ever done was for one reason and that wasn't about to change as long as there was a chance to bring Davina back to life.
"I said, 'eat'."
"And I said, 'I'm not hungry'."
"Imogen, come on. It will make me feel better." He told her innocently as he leaned his crossed arms on the counter across from her, tilting his head to the side with a small genuine smile. She scowled at him in exasperation, knowing that he was trying to guilt her into doing something that actually benefited her instead of him.
"Fine." She spat out through gritted teeth as she pulled the plate back towards her, narrowing her eyes at the smug grin that spread across his lips. She shook her head to herself as she took the fork he'd placed beside her plate, attempting to ignore his searing gaze and stabbed one of the strawberries with more force than necessary before popping it into her mouth, "You happy?"
"Thrilled." Marcel acknowledged in amusement as he pushed himself off of the counter and she grumbled under her breath with a roll of her eyes as she continued eating the food in front of her.
"Shouldn't you be out looking for Klaus and Rebekah?" Imogen asked nonchalantly as she picked up one of the freshly baked bagels from the bakery down the street and took a bite as she quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I got people on it. But right now, I'm biggest problem is sitting right across from me." he remarked teasingly with a charming grin as he lifted his mug of freshly brewed coffee to his lips. She smiled sarcastically in response while continuing to chew and inclined her head as she held her bagel up slightly in acknowledgement. "Besides, when your best friend attempts to kill herself – "
"I didn't try to kill myself!"
"– you put everything else aside and make sure that she doesn't try again." He finished pointedly with a slightly raised voice, ignoring her offended interruption and she rolled her eyes at him as she took another almost savage bite of her bagel.
"I didn't try to kill myself. I made a calculated strategic manoeuvre." She reminded him with a quirked eyebrow, a playful lilt in her voice as she tilted her head to the side and he placed his coffee down on the counter as he matched her amused smirk. "It only works if Celeste continues to think I'm dead, so I'll be staying indoors for the foreseeable future. And I have to wait out the vampire blood in my system before I do anything stupid and life threatening."
"Or you could just not do anything stupid or life threatening."
"I like to keep my options open."
Marcel laughed at her nonchalant comment as he shook his head slightly with a wide grin and she shrugged her shoulders innocently as she turned her attention back to her breakfast. It always surprised him how resilient the young witch seemed to be when it came to danger and while he was impressed by her determination to win, it also concerned him that she was so indifferent in regards to her own safety. Some days he needed to remind himself that she wasn't the façade that she showed the world, the smiling carefree young woman who never complains but in reality she was wounded beyond belief by the actions of the people that surrounded her and she didn't want to look dramatic or weak so she kept everything hidden inside.
"Okay, pretty girl, I'm going to go get an update on Klaus and Rebekah. Stay here, finish your breakfast. Don't even think about straining yourself today." The former king ordered lightly as he strolled around the counter to stand next to the stool she was perched on and Imogen lolled her head around to glare at him half-heartedly. Marcel pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of vanilla to rid himself of the mental image of her unconscious body crumpled in a pool of her own blood.
"If you're in a 'do-whatever-for-Imogen', 'make-Imogen-happy' kind of mood, I wouldn't mind one of those chocolate croissants from Le Petite Café!" the brunette witch called out to his retreating back as he exited the kitchen and he waved a hand over his shoulder in acknowledgement, a grin spreading across his lips at the sound of her laughter following him.
There was something about Imogen's laugh that was contagious, something addictive in the undercurrent of sincerity in each bout of laughter. An undeniable innocence in a dangerous and treacherous world, her laughter was infectious to anyone who listened to the charming sound. It gave a cold-hearted man like Marcel hope that someone as damaged as him could be worth being in the presence of someone like the brunette witch.
Some of the daywalkers standing to the side of the courtyard caught Marcel's eye when he entered, gesturing for him to join them and he immediately started in their direction, hoping that they had information about the location of Klaus or Rebekah.
"WHERE IS SHE?!" a masculine voice thundered from behind him, the words vibrating off of all the walls in the cavernous room and causing every individual in the Abattoir to freeze in place. There was a chill in the atmosphere, an almost crippling apprehension over what was to come. Many of the vampires took advantage of their enhanced speed and fled the courtyard before the conflict could commence.
Marcel felt his blood run cold at the sound of the familiar voice, the tone causing him to flashback to when he was a young child but he gathered his courage and slowly turned around to face the eldest Original. "Elijah. What's happening?"
Elijah Mikaelson had never looked so savage. His brown hazel eyes were skirting around the room wildly, searching for something or someone in a frenzied manner. They seemed to never stop on one thing for more than a moment, something in his eyes haunted. His normally flawless brown hair was in a state of disarray, like he had run his hand through it more than once. There was an achingly troubled expression on his handsome face before his frantic gaze landed on the dark skinned vampire standing in the middle of the courtyard. An enraged snarl twisted his lips as his eyes narrowed dangerously and he used his vampire speed to cross the room, curling his hand around Marcel's throat as he slammed the younger vampire against the closest wall. "WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Where's who?" Marcel asked in confusion, his voice strained because of the pressure against his trachea but the question seemed to anger the Original more and he slammed the younger vampire's head back against the wall. The former king groaned in pain when his skull cracked and he squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before opening them to offer the Original an incredulous frown.
"Where is Imogen Claire?!" Elijah asked in a threatening whisper, his voice cracking with anguish and his brown eyes flashing with despair as his fingers around Marcel's neck flexed uneasily. Monique Devereaux's emotionless voice played in his mind like a record player stuck on repeat: 'Return Imogen Claire's body to us so that we can bury her and she can rest eternally with the ancestors.' The declaration leaving a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to belong, a sensation he hadn't experienced since he had learned of his young brother Kol's death.
"Imogen? She's in the kit – "Marcel started to inform the Original with a perplexed frown but Elijah released his grip on his throat, dropping him on the ground in a heap before he could finish explaining the witch's location. He massaged his neck gingerly as he coughed slightly, watching as Elijah vamp-sped out of the room in the direction of the kitchen and he shook his head a little with a frown as he climbed to his feet.
Imogen sipped the last of her coffee as she hummed absently to herself, enjoying the feeling of peace that had washed over her when she realised that for the first time in a while she was actually safe. None of the witches were hunting her like they had been for nearly the last year and none of the vampires in the Quarter would dare harm her in fear of acquiring the wrath of Marcel or the Originals. In all of the chaos surrounding her, in the mayhem of the civil war, it was exceptional that she had found a small fraction of safety.
The sound of the kitchen door flying open, hitting the wall with the force behind the swing and the witch turned her whole body around in surprise as she instantly went on the defence. Some of the tension in her muscles alleviated when her gaze landed on Elijah, her features softening with affection at the mere sight of him.
A concerned frown spread across her lips as her blue eyes swept over his appearance, taking noticing of his distressed expression on his handsome face and the less than pristine condition of his designer suit jacket. The thing that bothered her the most was the frantic glint in his eyes, the tightened clench of his jaw as he looked around the room until his gaze came to rest on where she was sitting.
"Elijah, what's – "Imogen began to ask but the words were stolen from her mouth as he crossed the room in two large strides and captured her lips with his own, placing one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her cheek as he guided her head upwards. She gasped slightly, surprised by the sudden action but clung to the lapels of his jacket as she met the kiss with an equal amount of force. A fire was ignited in the pit of her stomach, a smouldering flame that wasn't like anything she had ever experienced. His lips were commanding, taking what they wanted from her without asking and she folded under his demands easily, sensing that he needed to control something in that moment.
The Originals tangled his nimble fingers into the brunette hair at the nape of her neck, using the leverage to guide her body closer against his chest and she made a muffled noise of surprise against his lips at the sudden movement. An animalistic hunger clawed at the inside of his throat, a thirst for her blood, her body, her mind, her soul and he took as much of her as he could in the one action. He kissed her like he was drowning in the ocean and she was the air, the very thing that would keep him alive. The kiss was a desperate and frantic desire to express themselves in the moment, a rushed manifestation of their suppressed lust after months of circling around each other.
Imogen reluctantly pulled back from the embrace when breathing became necessary, the burning in her lungs a reminder that she was mortal and the ferocious beating of her heart a reminder that she was human. Her eyelids fluttered open as he untangled his hand from her hair, sliding the tips of his fingers down her neck lightly and she tilted her head to meet his brown eyes as she focused on regulating her breathing. She was positive that her lips were swollen from the intensity of the kiss, her eyes glazed over from the delirious feeling she'd just experienced and brunette locks a tangled mess from his hands.
"Imogen…" Elijah whispered her name like a prayer, an almost silent plea to the universe and he focused on the feel of her velvet skin underneath his fingers, the rapid pattering of her heart within the confines of her chest. The repetitive pulsating of the blood flowing through her veins, a constant reminder that she was alive and safe sitting in front of him.
The sound of her name coming from his lips sparked a deep yearning inside of her, an ache that radiated throughout her entire body and she pushed herself upwards until her lips crashed against his own with a hunger she didn't know she possessed. Elijah matched the intensity of the kiss as he spread one of his hand across the small of her back, keeping her balanced as she raised slightly from the stool and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she pulled herself close enough to brush against his chest.
The witch withdrew from him slightly, panting to catch her breath as her nose grazed against his tauntingly and her eyes fluttered open as he rested his forehead against her own. His gaze swept over her features with a soft smile touching his lips as he cupped one of her cheeks and her lips quirked up in a small genuine smile as she tilted her head into his touch. He slowly leaned down to connect their mouths leisurely, taking the time to appreciate the assorted taste of strawberry lip-gloss, rich coffee and something indescribable, something that he never sampled in his millennia of living. But he knew that it needed to be savoured.
Imogen refused to acknowledge the whimper that escaped the back of her throat when Elijah withdrew from the kiss and a pang of lust went through the Original at the sound as he brushed his lips softly over her own.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?" the witch asked breathlessly as she ran her hands down to his lapels and smoothed her hands over the material absently. Some clarity had returned to her eyes as she looked up at him with a small smile, contentment and confusion warring in her expression.
"Why must there be a reason for a man to want to kiss a beautiful woman?" he asked her softly with a faint upturn of his lips as he gently traced his fingers down her cheek, watching in intrigue as a blush spread under his touch. She hummed in a mixture of amusement and pleasure as she leaned into his hand, a grin brightening her expression as his own widened at the sight.
"You never need a reason to kiss me, Elijah, but you came storming in here like I was returning home from World War II. There must have been a reason you were so…let's say, determined."
Elijah hesitated for a moment as he studied her inquisitive expression and he took a small step backwards to distance himself, his fingers falling from her face as he made the decision not to inform her of the catalyst. He didn't want their moment to be tainted in her mind, he didn't want their first kiss to be tarnished by thinking he only went forth with the kiss because he was distressed.
But he also didn't want to blemish their nonexistence relationship with lies of omission and he sighed slightly as he reached out to tuck a strand of brunette hair behind her ear with a small smile. "I paid the witches a visit this morning."
"Oh, if this was about Sophie, I know already know. Marcel informed me earlier this morning." Imogen told him sadly with a grief-stricken smile as she laid her hand over his heart and his forehead in befuddlement, confused by her seemingly nonchalant attitude towards her best friend's death. "I'm compartmentalising. And I have a plan to defeat Celeste. I should probably tell you before you find out through someone else, but I kind of orchestrated my own death."
Elijah's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she grimaced guiltily, her hand falling from his chest as she leaned back on her stool and she clasped her hands over her knee as she tried to appear innocent under his intense gaze. "I had a feeling Celeste wouldn't be pleased that I had survived the fire, so I cast a revival spell on myself as a precaution when I left here last night. Turns out my assumption was right because Celeste tracked me down on my way home and tried to kill me. Marcel found me and gave me his blood before bringing me back here. Anyway, now all the witches probably think I'm dead."
"Yes, I, uh, I was informed of your supposed death." He admitted softly, his melodic voice breaking slightly as the memory of pain echoed in his chest and he instinctively reached out to touch the delicate skin of her thigh with his thumb, a reminder of her presence in front of him.
"Is that why you were so troubled when you first came in here?" she asked him quietly as she focused on the feeling of his thumb tracing circles just above her knee. There wasn't any accusation or reproach in her voice, only mere concern over his state of mind as she offered him a small smile. It surprised him that someone could be so understanding, he'd never met anyone who could empathise with such ease and yet a twenty two year old woman could do what centuries old vampires could not.
In that moment he wanted nothing more than to declare his feelings for the young witch, to tell her exactly how the very sight of her caused his breath to catch in his throat, how she could make him smile even when she wasn't in the room. The desire to be completely honest with himself, with her, with anyone who would listen was almost too strong to resist. But another part of him was terrified of being dismissed. He didn't want to risk the chance that she didn't feel the same way and he didn't want to put the friendship that they'd developed in jeopardy because she'd become such an important aspect of his life in the last few months.
"Come along." Elijah urged gently instead of answering as he held his hand out towards her and she gave him a significant look as she slipped her hand into his without a word, allowing him to easily help her off of the stool. An undercurrent of electricity emanated from their conjoined hands as he led her out of the kitchen and she suppressed a smile behind his back as she hurried her pace to keep up with his long strides.
Marcel was standing to the side of the courtyard, speaking to two uniformed police officers in a hushed tone of voice and he turned his attention towards the entryway when Elijah and Imogen entered hand-in-hand. He excused himself from the officers politely, sending them back out to search the city and he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited impassively for the duo to reach him.
"Anything?" the Originals asked shortly as he walked towards the former king with purposeful strides, not pausing for a moment as he headed in the direction of the room he had claimed as his own office when they'd overtaken the Abattoir.
"They're putting eyes and ears out everywhere. Daywalkers are working every contact we've got. Cops, dock workers, guys in the Treme. Word is out: anyone trying to earn favour with me gets a lifetime of it if they find them." Marcel answered sagely as he narrowed his eyes at the pairs joined hands, a protective need to rip them apart swelling in his chest.
"Good. I need a pen and paper."
"Hey, am I taking orders from you now, or are we in this together?"
"Pen and paper, Marcellus. Now!" Elijah snapped in frustration as he released his hold on Imogen's hand before stripping out of his suit jacket. The witch crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him in confusion, her eyebrows drawn together as he threw the jacket on the closest couch.
"I want her back just as much as you do, you know... The both of them." The dark skinned admitted sincerely with a defeated sigh as he started to leave the room and Imogen cast him a slightly concerned look because she had completely forgotten about Marcel's dalliance with Rebekah in the midst of her own drama. She turned her attention back to where Elijah was standing in the middle of the study and her blue eyes widened when she saw that he'd managed to strip out of his white dress shirt in the small amount of time that it'd taken to turn around.
"Oh!" she exclaimed quietly in surprise as she traced the muscular planes of his chest with her eyes, discreetly surveying the well-developed torso in display and then her gaze landed on the cursive black writing printed on his skin. "Oh. I'm guessing that's not an adventurous style of tattoo fetish?"
"No. No, this isn't my doing." The Original answered in amusement as he watched her make her way towards him, her blue eyes darkening in a mixture of intrigue over the new magical situation and the desire to run her finger along every inch of his body.
"So, do you have any tattoos?" she asked softly as she came to a stop in front of him, the warmth of her body emitting onto his bare chest and he offered her a reserved smile as she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "Come on. You know I have them. Hell, you've seen two of them."
"You have more than two?"
"Do you have any?"
The couple stared at each other in a comfortable silence, playfully daring the other to be the first to answer the suggestive question. One of Imogen's eyebrows quirked boldly as she smirked enticingly at the man in front of her and his grinned widened when he heard the slight uptick of her heartbeat. The impression of the kiss lingered on her lips like an echo as she absently grazed her manicured nails down his abdominal muscles and he shivered under her touch as she leaned in slightly in an attempt to feel more of his skin.
"Elijah! You're back. Did you find any…?" Hayley started to ask the Original expectantly as she entered the room in a rush, not taking note of the situation but she stopped in the middle of the entryway with her mouth gaping open awkwardly when she saw the two of them standing so close together. "…thing?"
"Morning, Hayley!" Imogen chirped brightly with a grin as she took a step back from the handsome vampire, not feeling embarrassed in the least and she held back a chuckle at the uncomfortable blush on the werewolf's cheeks.
"What is happening?"
"We need to make a list of these names." Elijah answered her after clearing his throat sheepishly, trying to avoid looking in the direction of the brunette witch but couldn't help feeling the warmth of her skin as she circled around him to examine the names tattooed across his shoulders.
"'Sabine?'" Hayley recited out loud as she read the name tattooed on the inside of his forearm and she frowned in confusion as she looked up at the Original with suspicion shining in her hazel eyes. "Elijah, what is this?"
"I believe they represent the names of the women Celeste inhabited for the past two centuries." He told her honestly as he glanced over his shoulder at the witch with a small frown on his lips, silently asking her for her opinion on the matter as she traced the writing on his back with her fingertip.
"It's called a Devinette. Its old school but our coven still use them sometimes. It's a kind of a riddle we use to teach kids. I remember doing them all the time when I was younger. The one part of magic class I actually enjoyed. Well, that and sneaking some of the magical herbs the Elders used to grow in the green house." Imogen said wistfully with a reflective smile as she came to a stop next to Elijah, her shoulder brushing against his slightly and he raised an eyebrow in amusement with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She blinked the memories away as she sent him a bright grin before looking at the werewolf and softening her smile in understanding because she knew that Hayley didn't know coven rituals. "The older you are, the harder the riddle. Solve it, and it disappears."
"Why? What's the point?" Hayley asked them as Marcel walked into the study with a notebook and a pen in his hand, a pensive frown overtaken his features as he held the utensils out towards the werewolf because she was standing the closest to him.
"Celeste forced me to make a choice between yourself and Imogen or my siblings, and now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game. The longer the game, the more they suffer. To find Klaus and Rebekah, we need to solve this riddle. The solution lies somewhere in these names." Elijah explained solemnly with a frown playing on his lips as he scrutinised the tattoos on inked his arm and he snapped his head up in surprise when Imogen suddenly reached out to grasp his left arm, sending a sharp strike of electricity coursing across his skin at her touch.
"The name next to Sabine... Annie La Fleur, she's the witch that was shunned from the coven just over a year ago. I was out of town when it happened. We weren't close, maybe a word or two, so I didn't care enough to look into it when I got back." The witch informed the gathered group as she released her hold on the vampire's arm and took a step back from him as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her nose crinkled slightly as she lost herself in thought, studying the markings as though she was back in one of the classrooms of her youth.
"I never knew why, but I can find out." Marcel added helpfully as he sauntered over to stand next to the witch and she hummed absently in response, not hearing any of the words coming from his mouth. He sighed knowingly to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest, recognising the glint in her eyes that only appeared when she was trying to decipher a puzzle and wouldn't stop until she had figured it out. "Imogen? You with us?"
"Yeah. I'm just thinking."
"Alright. Come on." He murmured quietly with a roll of his dark brown eyes as he gently grasped her elbow, guiding her towards the couch to the side of the room because he knew that she wouldn't be coming back to reality until she had mentally worked out the riddle.
"Marcel, I'm not incapacitated. I can walk on my own." She protested half-heartedly with a grimace on her lips as he sat her down on the couch and she sighed heavily in defeat because she knew he wouldn't give in to her complaints.
"Stay here out of sight. The witches think you're dead, let's keep it that way. And you have my blood in your system, so nothing dangerous or you'll have to deal with an eternity of me saying 'I told you so'."
"I hate when you say 'I told you so'." She admitted with a pout on her lips as she leaned back on the couch, a playful glint in her blue eyes and he grinned in amusement as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before pulling back offer her a fond look.
Elijah actively avoided looking in their direction as he silently redressed himself, ignoring the bubbling sensation of jealousy in his stomach. The bond between the two was evident in the way they spoke to each other, the affection clear in their infliction and a part of him was glad that Imogen had someone in her life that would protect her no matter what. But another, more vocal part of himself hated that he wasn't the one who was making her laugh, the sound like church bells at sunset or making her smile brightly, the perfect mixture of innocent and mischievous.
"You guys go play hero. We'll sit here like good little girls and paint our nails or something." Hayley quipped sardonically as she crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance, her voice dripping with frustration over the situation. Imogen chuckled in amusement as she folded her legs underneath herself with a grin and the werewolf smiled sarcastically at the men standing by the door to the study as she threw herself down on the couch beside the witch.
"We'll let you know when we've found something." The Original assured them with a small upturn of his lips as he picked up his jacket from the couch beside Imogen, deliberately brushing the back of his hand against her bare leg.
Imogen watched the two vampires leaving the room, waiting a minute until she was positive they were out of hearing range before jumping up from the couch. Hayley quirked an eyebrow curiously as she observed the witch move around the room like she belonged there, strolling over to the antique desk towards the back of the room. She crouched down behind the hand craved mahogany desk and opened the top drawer carefully as she hummed absently to herself, searching through the contents before finding what she was looking for.
"Aha! I knew he wasn't all old-school." Imogen murmured to herself victoriously with a grin spreading across her lips, removing the expensive Apple MacBook pro from inside the drawer.
"What are you doing?" Hayley inquired in a mixture of curiosity and amusement, standing up from couch with her hand resting on her expanding stomach. The other brunette set the laptop down on top of the desk as she sat down on the comfortable chair behind the desk, tapping her fingernails absently on the polished wood as she waited patiently for it to turn on.
"I'm going to research those names. I hate riddles and I hate feeling useless."
"Good idea. Now, get up. I'm pregnant." The werewolf scolded playfully with a smirk as she walked over to the desk and Imogen scoffed in mock indignation as she raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Come on. My feet are swollen."
Imogen rolled her blue eyes teasingly as she stood up from the chair with a faux annoyed expression and Hayley took the seat with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. A pleased grin spread across her lips as she settled back in the comfortable chair, pulling one of her knees up to her chest as she turned her attention to the laptop screen. The witch turned the computer towards her slightly as she logged onto the internet and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, only the sound of the keyboard echoed through the room.
Hayley silently chewed on her thumb nail as she watched Imogen glance in between the laptop screen and the notebook where she'd written down the names tattooed on Elijah's torso. "Why do you think Celeste is doing this?"
"'Cause she's a bitch?" the witch asked sarcastically without looking away from the computer monitor and the werewolf snorted in amusement with a sly smile as she leaned back in her chair. Imogen paused in her movements, turning her head slightly to offer an apologetic smile and ran a hand through her hair in frustration as she scrunched her nose cutely. "Sorry. It's just, she's not exactly on my Christmas card list."
"I get it. Trust me, I get it."
"Celeste told me last night that she was here for justice. To teach the Original the error of their ways. She wants to punish them for their actions. She's making big proclamations about the greater good, but in reality, she's a vengeful bitch. You know the saying 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'? Perfect description of Celeste. Klaus killed her and Elijah stood by him. She's bitter and hurt. Historically, not an awesome combination."
"God, I hope my daughter has better sense." Hayley murmured in a disgusted voice as she rubbed her stomach fondly and Imogen's lips twitched into a reassuring half-smile as she sat down on the edge of the desk.
"I'm sure Celeste didn't have a loving mother like you." She told the expectant werewolf as she folded her arms over her chest, the sincerity in her voice causing Hayley to look up at her with a small upturn of her lips.
The smile faded into a contemplative frown as she adverted her gaze from Imogen's understanding expression and she internally struggled whether or not to revel her doubts to the other brunette. There were a lot of reasons why Imogen was probably her best option: she had a degree in psychology, she had some experience raising a child, and she was one of only people Hayley would actually call a friend. But the thought of being that vulnerable in front of anyone made her want to cringe but she that if she was going to be a mother, she would need to get over herself and realise that vulnerability was the most accurate measurement of courage.
"Hey, um, can I ask you something?" Hayley asked hesitantly without looking at the witch, gliding her hand over the swell of her stomach. She heard Imogen make a sound of affirmation but she still couldn't bring herself to meet her gaze, afraid that she would chicken out if she had to see the pity in the other girl's eyes. "How do you do it? I've spent my whole life surviving on my own. Not even living, just surviving, and I don't know if I'm enough. I don't know if I can be what my daughter deserves."
"Do you love your daughter?" Imogen asked bluntly as she rose from the edge of the desk with a blank expression on her face and Hayley snapped her head up with her lip pressed into a straight line as her eyes flashed with defiance, unable supress her anger over someone asking her that question.
"More than anything."
"Then you're already doing everything right." She assured the wolf softly in a sincere tone with a small upturn of her lips, resting her hand on the other brunette's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You never know what the world's going to throw at you, but as long as your daughter knows you love her and that you'd do anything to protect her, you're already an amazing mother. She'll know that. She might not always appreciate it, especially in her teenage years, but she'll still know that it's true."
There was a companionable silence that followed Imogen's reassurance as the women shared a conspiratorial smile, a new understanding forming between them. It was a pleasant sensation to feel connected to another human being, to feel that metaphoric bond.
The sound of a cell phone vibrating on the inside of Hayley's jeans interrupted the moment and Imogen turned her attention back to the laptop screen as the werewolf searched for the phone with a frown on her lips. She leaned back in her chair as she answered the phone without checking the caller ID and held it up to her ear as she greeted the caller with an unenthused "Hello?"
"Hayley." Elijah's melodic voice greeted her through the phone line and she raised her eyebrows in interested even though he couldn't see her as she sat forward in her seat. "Marcel and I spoke with a gentleman who was acquainted with Ms La Fleur before and after her ostracism. According to him, although it was out of her character, some of the other witches claimed they had proof she was practicing dark magic. Once she was shunned…well, she didn't have much to live for."
"Hang on a second, Elijah." She told him as she reached over to slap Imogen's thigh to get her attention, ignoring the indignant noise the witch made and pressed the speakerphone button so that they could both hear what was going on as she held the phone up between them. "Okay, Imogen and I can both hear you now. Annie was framed by her coven for using dark magic. She killed herself?"
"Yes, drowned herself in the Mississippi, to be precise. Celeste was clearly tired of the body and ready to take Sabine's."
"How do you know that?"
"Because she leaped to her death from the very location Celeste and I had our first kiss."
"Poetic, I guess... in a creepy-vendetta sort of way." Imogen said in a creeped out tone of voice as she grimaced slightly and Hayley nodded in agreement with a matching expression of disgust on her face.
"All these names, these lives, stolen that Celeste might take her revenge. I suppose we have no choice but to see where they take us. Hayley, Imogen, I have to go. I'll call you back."
"Elijah, wait!" the werewolf rushed out in a slightly raised voice as she brought the phone closer to her mouth and Imogen gave her an incredulous look but she just shook her head instead of answering the silent question.
"What is it?" Elijah asked apprehensively on the other side of the phone call, the wariness in his voice completely obvious and Imogen stifled a chuckle as she pressed her lips together in a tight line. Hayley shot the witch an unamused look before rolling her hazel eyes and allowing herself to smile slightly at the innocent expression Imogen tried to pull off.
"Ask Marcel if he knows anything about a name on that list- Brynne Deveraux. Sophie said that it was her family's bloodline that put the curse on the Crescent wolves, but Celeste said that she was the only one that could break it."
"Huh. If Brynne Deveraux was actually Celeste when she cast the spell, then maybe Celeste can still break it. If the spell is bound with blood, then it's entirely probable. Magical energy is like DNA, it's unique to the individual." Imogen informed them contemplatively as she looked towards the fireplace with her eyes narrowed in thought, her mind running with possibilities and theories regarding magical enchantments.
"I'll see what he knows." The Original promised them both sagely, knowing how important reversing the Crescent Curse was to both of the women for very different reasons. The familiar sound of the dial tone indicated that he'd hung up before they could thank him for his effort and Hayley sighed heavily as she dropped her hand down to her lap with a small frown.
"Hm. Okay, then." The witch murmured sarcastically as she set the laptop down on the desk beside her and jumped down gracefully, "That was kinda rude. But, whatever. This vampire blood has made me really jittery, so I'm going to go make some tea. You want some?"
"Yeah, sure." Hayley replied easily with a shrug of her shoulders as she stood up from the chair and Imogen offered her a small smile as she linked their arms together, feeling more hopeful then she had in weeks.
"Gretchen?"
"Gross."
"Eunice?"
"Ew."
Laughter reverberated around the spacious study as Imogen and Hayley sat facing each other on the antique couch, their legs folded underneath themselves and matching wide grins on their faces. It'd been an easy transition into conversation for the two women, a subtle change in subject once they entered the kitchen to share a cup of tea had spearheaded a discussion about the fact that Imogen was practically a gourmet chef while Hayley couldn't boil water. Once the dialogue had started to flow between them, it just came as naturally as breathing and that was how they ended up back in Elijah's office discussing possible baby names.
Imogen felt slightly guilty for enjoying Hayley's company when Sophie hadn't even been gone more than a day but she couldn't bring herself to regret something that made her smile. The last few weeks had been hard, there were times when she really didn't think she'd make it through. Davina had always been the person that anchored Imogen to the world, the person that made everything make sense when nothing made sense and without her, Imogen was slowly drowning on her own existence. But laughing on the couch with Hayley, eating breakfast with Marcel, kissing Elijah, even fighting with Celeste, it made her feeling alive for the first time in a while.
"Okay, so if not any of those, what names do you actually like?" Imogen asked curiously with a bright smile as she shifted her position on the couch, her hands cradling her nearly empty mug of tea.
"Alright, alright, um, let's see." Hayley pondered out loud with a thoughtful expression, the amusement evident as her lips twitched upwards in a small grin and she appeared almost sheepish as she shrugged her shoulders. "I like Zoe."
"Zoe Mikaelson. Or is it Zoe Marshall? Or Marshall-Mikaelson? Mikaelson-Marshall?"
"I don't know. I don't even know if that's her name. Nothing feels right. Perfect, you know?"
"Not really. I've never had to name a child before. But I do like Zoe. It means 'life', very on the nose." The witch mused with a smirk on her lips as she tilted her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow as she lifted the porcelain mug to her lips in order to take a sip of the lukewarm tea. "What other names have you got on the maybe list?"
"Um, Kaitlyn? What's the meaning of that one, oh knowledgeable one?" the werewolf asked sarcastically as she took a drink of her own tea, enjoying the easy conversation and the opportunity to talk things out with someone impartial to the pregnancy.
"That one means 'pure', also very accurate." Imogen replied in a smug tone of voice as she leaned back against the arm of the couch with a mischievous smile and Hayley couldn't help the impressed raise of her eyebrow as her hazel eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm sure whatever name you end up choosing will be perfect. I'll look at your baby girl and you'll just know."
"I hope so. I don't want her to end up resenting me for naming her something she hates." Hayley admitted reluctantly with a slight pout on her lips as she ran a hand through her hair and Imogen shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly with a smirk as she leaned forward slightly as though revealing a secret that wasn't meant to be overheard.
"Eh. The wolfette can always change her name when she's eighteen. Go by a nickname. There are options."
"That's true. She can – "the werewolf's response was interrupted by the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the cushion in between them and she frowned to herself as she picked up the device, one of her eyebrows quirking when she read the screen. "Text message from Elijah. 'All deaths are suicides but one. Clara Summerlin.'"
"I'm actually genuinely surprised he learnt how to text." Imogen murmured honestly to herself as she rose from her position on the couch and Hayley snorted in amusement as she followed her newly acquired friends lead with a small smile. "Let's see what we can find on the mysterious Clara Summerlin."
"Summer's a nice name." Hayley pondered thoughtfully with a considering expression as they strolled over to the antique desk near the back of the office and Imogen faked gagged jokingly as she swerved the chair around towards the werewolf, silently offering her the seat so they didn't have an exchange like before.
"I don't like names that have other meanings, like Summer or June or Autumn. Come on, be a little more creative people!" she said with a roll of her blue eyes as she turned her attention to the laptop on the desk and she shook her head to herself as she winced slightly, feeling guilty for projecting her own opinions onto the expectant mother. "I'm sorry. Summer is a gorgeous name. Bright, hopeful. They're amazing traits to possess."
"Please. You're entitled to your opinion. And I wouldn't ask for it if I didn't want you to be honest." Hayley informed her with a scoff as she sunk down onto the comfortable seat she'd been offered and Imogen's lips quirked up in a grateful smile as she concentrated on typing Clara Summerlin's name into the search engine.
The pair worked in silence as they researched the life of the French Quarter witch and Hayley pulled one of her knees up to her chest as she tried to keep her eyes from drifting closed out of boredom. The witch couldn't help the small smirk that spread across her lips when she glanced over at her friend and it occurred to her that she would probably be in the same state if she wasn't used to late night studying for her college courses. She had spent nights pouring over psychology textbooks, absorbing every word of information and mainlining caffeine in an effort to stay awake. It was only going to get worse when she started attending Tulane in the fall to get her doctorate in psychology.
"God, this Clara girl lived one boring life." Imogen murmured under her breath as she scrolled through the limited information available, her legs swinging absently from where she sat atop of the desk with the computer on her lap. "Granted, she was only twenty-five when she died…And it was 1919."
"Oh, yeah? And what would your biography say?"
"Well, let's see… I've defied the French Quarter witches and stopped an ancient sacrificial ritual. I've basically raised my baby sister. I've done what no witch has done and befriended the vampires of the city. I've befriended all of the infamous Originals. I've graduated college and I'm attending grad school next fall. And I've travelled all over South America. I'm pretty well-rounded."
"And you're younger than she was. You win!"
"I wasn't competing with a dead girl." The witch pointed out in amusement with a quirked eyebrow as she continued to type on the laptop, finding another resource to extract accurate information from. Hayley's lips twitched up in a smirk as she shrugged her shoulders, unashamed by her own blunt nature and that alone elicited a distracted chuckle from Imogen.
The sound of footsteps approaching the office drew both of their attentions, causing them to snap their heads around to face the main entrance way in an almost comical fashion. Hayley subconsciously shifted closer to the witch, feeling the uncomfortable urge to place her faith in someone else, to trust Imogen to protect her and her unborn child. Imogen felt the familiar sensation of magic rising in her stomach as she placed the laptop down on the desk and positioned herself protectively in front of the pregnant werewolf in case whoever approaching wasn't an ally.
Elijah appeared in the entranceway with a determined expression on his handsome features and Imogen immediately relaxed at his presence with a genuine smile spreading across her lips, "Hey, look, we found– "
The Original interrupted her by placing a hand on her shoulder when he reached her and used the opposite hand to hold a finger to his lips, the silent gesture to indicate news quietening her instantly. She quirked an eyebrow at him in question as she leaned back against the desk while he looked between the two women and he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone before saying in a quiet tone, "You were right about the Deveraux witch."
The admission caused Hayley's eyes to widen as she sat up straighter in her chair, the thought of more information on how to break the curse placed on her family made her feel hopeful for the first time in a while.
Whatever other information Elijah was about to deliver was interrupted when Marcel strolled into the study and looked over at the group assembled around the desk, his gaze focusing on the witch next to the laptop, "Find anything about Clara, the mystery witch?"
"Not much. She was a nurse at the Fleur-de-Lis Sanitarium." Imogen informed them with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders as she picked up the laptop and she enlarged the black and white photograph of the Sanitarium workers from 1919 until it focused on Clara's face. She turned the screen around to show the vampires the picture of the deceased witch and she quirked an eyebrow in question as she asked them curiously, "Recognize her? Top row, second from the right."
"No, I don't. Marcel?" Elijah asked slowly without removing his gaze from the screen, almost as though he was trying to force a memory to the surface of his mind. He sighed in defeat when he couldn't bring himself to recall the witch in the photograph and his frowned slightly as he lifted his head to look at the dark skinned vampire who hadn't uttered a word. The panic was evident on the former king's expression as he turned away from the group, his lips turned down anxiously and his dark brown eyes dull with anguish.
An internal alarm went off in Elijah's mind as he stalked around the desk to stand in front of the younger vampire and he tilted his head to the side with an unwavering expression, "Marcel? Do I need to remind you that Niklaus and Rebekah are somewhere suffering horribly? If you know something, talk."
"The Sanitarium. That's where you'll find them." Marcel told them in nearly a whisper with a despaired downturn of his lips as he moved over to the other side of the office.
"Are you sure? How do you know?" Hayley asked doubtfully with her eyebrows raised as she leaned forward in her chair to see around Imogen's body and the witch tilted her head to the side curiously as she quirked an eyebrow in silence question.
"I just know."
"How do you know?" Elijah repeated in a forceful tone of voice as he took a threatening step forwards, his oak brown eyes flashing with authoritative pressure. The dangerous note in his voice made the breath catch in Imogen's throat as she watched him intently, the familiar swirling of lust building in her stomach as she gripped the edge of the desk until her knuckles turned white under the pressure. It was hard to describe how the sound of his voice made her feel, the mellifluous tone had her shivering inexplicably with a tingling pleasure.
"If I'm right, you need to know exactly what we're walking into. We did something, Rebekah and I... I think the witches are trying to use it against her. It was, uh... something that you're not gonna like." Marcel admitted hesitantly as he kept his head angled down to the ground, avoiding everyone's eyes in shame as he shifted uncomfortably. He could feel everyone's burning gaze on him but couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest and lost him himself in memories of the past as he recalled the events out loud in a soft tone, "Back in 1919, Bekah befriended a witch that worked as a nurse at the Sanitarium, Genevieve and asked her to do us a favour. We summoned Mikael to New Orleans."
A stunned silence followed his admission, no one uttering a word in the tense silence. Hayley's forehead furrowed in confusion for a moment before realisation washed over her and she gaped at him in shock, knowing how bad the relationship between the Originals and their father was through the memories Elijah had shared with her when she'd first learned of her pregnancy. Imogen had her jaw clenched angrily with her arms crossed over her chest, the disbelief shining in her blue eyes because she could remember her own experience with a tyrant father and she had bonded with Marcel over their shared encounters one night while drinking a bottle of wine.
Elijah stared at the dark skinned vampire in front of him, a heavy feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach but there was also a small sense of relief because for the first time he knew what truly happened. It was as though the last piece of the puzzle had been deposited in position and the whole picture had come to light. He rubbed his hand over his mouth gingerly as he tried to focus his anxious mind, there were so many thoughts running rampant inside of him and he didn't know which one to address first as he slowly dropped his arm to his side. "For the better part of a century, I have wondered how Father found us, what foolish mistake that we had made to destroy our time in the one place that we could finally call home. Did you know, I even blamed myself for a time, Marcellus?"
Imogen gasped out loud in shock as she jumped up from the edge of the desk when Elijah suddenly grabbed the younger vampire around the neck and used his vampire speed to slam Marcel against the wall on the other side of the office. She shared a concerned glance with Hayley before she slowly circled around the desk and she approached them as though she was advanced towards a skittish animal. "Elijah—"
"Niklaus treated you like a son." he reminded the dark skinned vampire through gritted teeth with a hint of a growl in his voice as he tightened his fingers, narrowing his oak brown eyes dangerously.
"Rebekah. I loved her. I still love her. All we ever wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around, that was never gonna happen." Marcel rasped out painfully in an honest tone as his voice came out hoarse from the burden on his trachea and he tried to appear unconcerned with the situation, even though his eyes glinted with anxiety. He narrowed his dark brown eyes at the Original holding him off of the ground as the intoxicating scent of vanilla flooded towards him and he glanced towards where Imogen was standing with the werewolf girl, waiting to see if it would become necessary for her to intervene. "But hey, I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, huh?"
The mention of his own indiscretions sent a flare of rage through Elijah but he knew that there were some truth to the younger vampire's words and he gritted his teeth as he reluctantly released his hold around Marcel's throat carelessly. "When Klaus learns the truth, there will be no end to his rage. I will not let my sister suffer that wrath."
"Then we need to get to them before he learns the truth."
"They've been missing for hours, chances are he already knows." Imogen reminded them regretfully in a gentle voice as she crossed her arms over her chest and both of the vampires turned to face her with matching expressions of realisation. "You're no longer saving them from the witches. You're saving them from themselves."