I have to die."
The hairs on the back of his neck stand up like the world's electricity has collected in the room. The scorching river flowing through his veins makes it seem like the electricity has entered his body. The fire should make him feel warm, but instead, he feels as if he is standing in the middle of the Arctic Circle in the dead of winter. Kol's witch brain clicks on to the full power. The French Quarter Witches practiced a magic termed Ancestral Magic. Ancestral magic is a magic that has never appealed to him, so he never took the time to learn about it in full. He only knows the basic fundamentals of the magic, and that is it. One thing Kol has learned from his time with witches is that they can go to extreme lengths when motivated. One thing he has come to understand is that witches have one rule that they all seem to follow is to never harm kids. Children are considered sacred because they are the future of their covens. Children are the ones who will carry their faith through to future generations.
His decision not to study ancestral magic more in depth is now coming back to bite him in the ass. Kol runs a hand over his face as he walks around the room because he can't stay still while his thoughts are running amuck in his head. He doesn't even have access to his grimoires since he doesn't know where his siblings put his things after they threw him back into his prison cell. Kol knows that his mother has grimoires on this subject, but he doesn't know where those grimoires are either. He could always ask his siblings about their locations, but that will only lead to questions that he won't be able to answer, which has the potential for dangerous consequences.
Unwanted attention with the risk of them tracking him in New Orleans when he is supposed to be somewhere else. Denver. Why did he even agree to go to fucking Denver in the first place? It allowed Kol to put as many miles between himself and his family as possible. Now that he is finally tasting that distance, Kol is determined to keep it that way for the rest of his long life. He doesn't care if he never sees his family again. It's not like they will miss him anyway. Their long history is full of evidence to support that mindset. Denver is beginning to look farther away from his windshield, and Kol needs to focus on what is in front of him, and he doesn't know what he is staring at yet.
Kol moves over to the bed, sitting down in front of her. "I need you to tell me everything," he tells her gently, placing his elbows on his knees. "What do you mean you have to die?" he asks, wanting to get to the most crucial aspect of this situation.
"It's what the Harvest Ritual is," Davina replies as a smolder of anger enters her voice. "Our Elder Bastiana told us that our connection to our ancestors weakens over time, and we need to appease our ancestors to keep our power flowing."
"What else did they tell you?"
"They told the four of us that we would be placed in a peaceful limbo as part of the offering, and later at the reaping, we would awaken and be reborn," Davina says, "basically, they were trading us to get more power, but I didn't get as far as the limbo part. Which means the harvest isn't complete."
"What happens if the Harvest isn't complete?" Kol asks, dreading the answer because he knows that it can be anything good and something he needs to look into as soon as he leaves the church.
"The reaping will come, and the witches will be punished for their lies," Davina hisses as fire fills her eyes, "everything will go back to normal, and I'll be free."
Kol tilts his head. "Free from what?" he asks lightly, hearing the longing in her voice.
"Of magic," Davina says, and Kol winces as he feels his soul die a little from that statement. "All our power will fade away. I'll be normal."
Kol smiles at her. "Why on earth would you ever want to be normal for, Davina Claire?" he asks, "you should treasure being a witch, Love. Magic is one of the greatest gifts."
Davina glances down at her hands. "I don't want to be the monster I am," she says tearfully. "I've never had good control over my magic, and I don't want to hurt anymore people."
"You, Love, don't have the face of a monster," Kol offers soothingly, "control is something that is learned. All you need to do is practice your magic and be patient. Good control isn't something that is learned overnight as it takes time to learn great control."
"Like playing the piano?" Davina asks curiously, and Kol thinks about this analogy for a minute.
"I never thought of it that way before," Kol says, "but it's something like that. Can you play?"
Davina nods. "I've been playing most of my life, but I haven't been able to play since I got stuck in here," she says.
"How come?"
Davina smiles sadly. "Marcel is worried that someone will hear the music and come looking," she tells him.
"A nice silencing spell can prevent that," Kol tells her, snickering when she plants her face into her palm.
"Why didn't I think of that?" Davina mutters into her hand.
"I'm sure your mind has been busy," Kol says, glancing around the room with disdain. Being stuck inside these four walls for weeks at a time isn't the happiest place for one's head. Hell, he tries to imagine living in this place for two months with no eviction notice in sight, and it makes him want to burn the place down to nothing. "Tell me more about this Harvest Ritual. How did it begin?"
Davina closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before getting out of her chair. She walks around the room, picking up a couple of candles. Davina sits down on the floor, curling her legs under her, and places the candles on either side of her. "Sit here," she says, pointing to the space in front of her.
"Why?"
Davina snaps her fingers, and flames come alive on the candles. "I'm going to show you," she says, crossing her arms with her palms in the air.
Kol frowns as he moves to sit in front of her, copying her stance of sitting. "You don't have to show me," he says, looking at her hands.
"I know I don't," Davina says, waiting for him to take her hands, "it's just easier for me to show it rather than say it aloud," Kol says nothing as he crosses his arms, placing his hands into hers and closes his eyes. Davina says something in French, and he feels himself being pulled into a force allowing them to cross over and into Davina's mind.
Kol opens his eyes, and he is standing in a crowd of witches dressed in various colors of gray dresses and necklaces for the women and suits for the men. Four torches come aflame, burning bright and hungry, providing much need light to battle the night sky. The group looks down a long path, wearing proud smiles, and he moves around a few of them to get a better view of what is happening. An older lady with dark curly hair is leading four girls, all wearing white dresses. Davina is the first girl, and her hair is done up in a half ponytail, and the rest of her locks fall over her shoulders. Something about seeing them all dressed in white has his stomach turning sour.
An old crone begins to speak. "Our magic fades," she says, as the girls continue to walk until the witch leading them signals for them to stop, "as ties to our ancestors weaken over time. We beseech them. Accept this offering as a sign of our faith."
The four girls turn away from the elder as she begins to walk around them as the girls lower to their knees.
"I call upon our great elements to bind our past and future magic together," the crone continues, "Earth to connect them to our ancestors. Wind to carry them to our ancestors and back to us. Water to heal our community. Fire to purify." She dips her finger into a bowl she is carrying and presses a red mark to the forehead of each girl. A strong wind flows through the cemetery, blowing through the fire, sending old leaves scattering along the ground.
She trades the bowl for a knife and walks over to one of the flaming torches. She lowers the tip of the knife into the fire, letting the flames lick the metal. She points to the blond girl at the end and waves for her to come up. Everyone is quiet as the girl climbs to her feet and goes to stand in front of her elder.
A woman with long dark hair runs into the crowd. "No, stop! Bastiana, stop! You have to stop!" she screams at the redhead, and a man standing beside her grabs onto her arms. "Bastiana! Please don't do this!" she pleads as the man wraps an arm around her to place his hand over her mouth, muffling her pleas.
The elder nods at the man and turns back to the blond girl. "To be born, you must sacrifice," she purrs at the young girl, smiling coldly at her. "Do you have faith?" she asks.
The young girl nods timidly, holding up her left hand. The woman takes the girl's hand, pressing her thumb to her palm, and quickly slides the blade under the girl's chin, slicing open the flesh. The girl gasps as blood spill down her front as she falls to the ground. Kol closes his eyes as he turns away from the scene, stunned at what he just witnessed. His stomach rolls violently, and he has to swallow to keep himself from heaving. The cries of the other girls have him opening his eyes to see them jumping back, trying to get away, only to be grabbed by men to keep them from fleeing.
Davina is struggling to get free from the man holding her captive, crying as she watches another man grab the girl with short brown hair, forcing her to move to stand in front of Bastiana. "Stop," she sobs.
"Don't kill her! No!" Davina cries out as she watches the poor soul join the other girl on the ground. "No! No!"
Bastiana looks up from her last victim, ready for the next one. "Monique Deveraux," she calls, and the man holding the girl pulls her forward.
Davina struggles harder against the man. "No! No," she screams as Monique looks back at Davina, reaching for Davina, but the man is stronger than the teen girl and steers her away from Davina. Davina is pleading to the woman standing next to her, but the woman looks at her as if she is nothing and turns away from her. The woman from earlier is looking at a woman beside her, screaming and yelling.
Someone whistles making everyone turn in the direction of the sound as people start jumping down from the wall of tombs. Some speeding out of dark corners and attack some of the witches, biting into their necks. Marcel appears, growling with his fangs bared for battle as he takes in the scene before speeding off. For the first time in his life, he is happy to see Marcel's ugly mug. A vampire grabs Bastiana, and she cries out in pain as the vampire tears into her neck.
There is so much going on it Is hard to focus on one thing until the witch who led the girls out picks up the knife and grabs hold of the girl from behind and slices her throat.
"No! No! Monique, No!" Davina cries as the girl turns around in shock before falling to the ground as she falls to join the blood.
Davina starts fighting harder against the man who is holding her. "Let go of me," she cries hysterically, trying to get free of the man, but he only tightens his grip as Marcel reappears, blood staining from where he attacked his prey. "Stop it! Stop it! Let go of me," she screams at the man before throwing her head back into the man's nose.
Marcel growls, flashing forward and punches the man, causing him to let Davina go, but Marcel grabs the man and snaps his neck. "I got you," Marcel says soothingly, reaching for Davina, who is crying as he pulls her into the safety of his arms.
Davina looks to her friend, who is now lying in the arms of the loud woman. There is a glow in the arm of the dead girl, flowing down to her fingers into the earth. Davina reaches out, and the glows enters her arm and fade away. Marcel tightens his hold on her before speeding her out of the cemetery and away from the scene of horror.
Kol feels the energy holding the connection begin to weaken until it fades away when Davina lets go of his hands. Kol opens his eyes, and Davina gets to her feet, silently outing the flames and picking up the candles to put them back where they go. Kol is silent because he doesn't know what to say as the scene rewinds and plays again. Yes, Kol is a monster, and he has done unspeakable things to people, but this. This is something he wishes he could unsee. And unhear.
The sound of the girls screaming in terror is almost too loud for him. Terror that is a product of their own people's doing. People who are supposed to protect them. Guide them. Killing them senselessly when they barely had a chance to live and enjoy what this world has to offer to witches. Davina's screams are the loudest as she watches three girls fall to their death, each one louder than the last, fearing the time of her turn to stand in the same spot.
Davina.
The same girl walking around the room, picking up clothes and folding them before placing them in a basket. He wishes he had the power to turn back time and change the course of that night, but he can't. This is something that she will have to live with for the rest of her life because this night will leave behind deep scars that time may never heal. Kol doesn't blame her for being angry with her coven. Hell, he is even angry for her and has an urge to go knock some heads off their shoulders for making her witness an event that even shocks the likes of him.
"Holy shit…" he mutters, getting to his feet as he tries to come to terms with everything he has just seen.
Davina sniffs, wrapping her arms around herself. "That's why I wanted you to see," she says as tears trail down her cheeks. "It's still very fresh, so it's hard for me to talk about it."
Kol nods, reaching up to wipe a tear away with his thumb. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that, Davina," he tells her softly, "I promise I will find a way out of this for you."
"Please tell me you did not invite him into your room, Davina."
Davina glances over to see Marcel standing in the door with his arm crossed over his chest, looking like a very stern father, and wearing a very disapproving glare on his face to complete the look. "How long have you been standing there?" Davina asks him, walking over with her arms open wide.
Marcel smiles warmly at her, pulling her into his side. "About ten minutes," he answers, running a soothing hand up and down her back. "Honey, you have got to be more careful. What if I was someone dangerous?"
Kol snickers as he walks over to them. "A brown recluse spider is more dangerous than you, Marcellus," he mocks, grinning wider as he earns a nice cold glare from the younger man.
Marcel presses a kiss to Davina's temple, tightening his hold on the girl. "Want to explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to let him in here?" he asks her, keeping his eyes on Kol.
"We were having a nice proper chat before you so rudely interrupted us," Kol says, answering the question for himself. "Getting to know each other a little better as new mates tend to do. Do you know that sort of thing?
"You are not her new mate," Marcel hisses protectively.
Davina steps back, pulling away from Marcel. "I was telling him about my situation," she explains, and Marcel cups her face in his hand.
"Are you okay?" he asks, brushing her cheek with his thumb.
"Now, you're concerned," Kol mutters, sarcastically earning another hateful glare from Marcel.
"It's time for you to leave," Marcel growls at him, pointing to the door. "And don't come back."
Kol shakes his head. "I will leave when I am good and ready," he hisses back, getting tired of Marcel's attitude. "Sounds like you have a bit of a mess involving the French Quarter Witches."
"Marcel," Davina gasps, causing both vampires to look at her. Davina winces sharply as her complexion turns ghostly white. She is panting as she reaches out for Marcel and stumbles as her legs give way.
Marcel catches her before Davina can fall to the floor. "Breathe, Honey," he whispers, running his fingers through her hair. "Just breathe."
"What's wrong with her?" Kol demands, wanting to know what he is watching. The floor under his feet starts shaking, and the sound of glass rattling fills the air. Something falls off the wall and breaks as it lands as the shaking grows more violently.
"It hurts so much," Davina wheezes, going limp in Marcel's arms, and the room grows still to its original state. Marcel swears loudly as he scoops her up, carrying her over to the bed, and lays her down. Marcel carefully lifts her head so he can slide a pillow under it.
"What are you doing here?" Marcel asks him, pushing a couple of loose strands off Davina's cheek. "I told you to stay away from her."
Kol chuckles as he walks over to stand beside the man. "Marcellus, you speak to me as if we aren't familiars," he says, "rules are always meant to be broken, and breaking the rules is my favorite game."
Marcel rolls his eyes, sitting on the bed beside Davina. "I wish I knew how to help her," he mutters, picking up her hand and presses a kiss to her flesh, "but I don't know how." Marcel is staring at Davina as if she means the world to him, as Kol thinks to himself.
Marcel isn't just another man in the world, but someone his family loved dearly. Kol has never been a fan of Marcel, which goes for Marcel. Yes, he did go about the wrong way with handling Marcel's position in his family, but that was due to his jealousy and longing of wanting his family's affections. However, he will never tell anyone this, but he did consider Marcel to be a part of his family, and it is clear to him that Marcel is in over his head with this situation with the witches. Out of anyone in his family, and apart from his lack of knowledge about this Harvest Ritual, Kol is the one to turn to for all things witchy related. "Sounds like you need an expert on witches, Marcel," Kol says, causing the man to look up from Davina, "I promised her that I would help her."
"Don't make promises that you won't be able to keep," Marcel hisses icily, "she has been through so much. I'm not going to let anything or anyone else hurt her, especially you."
"You mistake me for my brother, Marcel," Kol hisses back as icily, "I am a man of my word as I have been a friend to witches for centuries. While my brother is okay with killing witches, I am okay with spending time with them, and something like this will take time to sort out."
"This is none of your business," Marcel snaps at him, causing Davina to stir in her sleep, and he runs his fingers back through her brown locks until she settles.
"It's my business now," Kol says firmly, "but for me to help, I will have to learn more which will take me some time."
"No, I don't need your help," Marcel snaps coldly.
"You're right," Kol agrees, nodding his head, "you don't need my help. Davina is the one who needs my help, and your stubbornness will mean her death if you don't let me help her."
Marcel looks at Davina, glaring at her as his shoulders sag with defeat. "Fine," he sighs, and Kol knows he's won his case. Marcel stands up from the bed, pulling out his phone, and taps on the screen a couple of times before putting it away. "Since you are here, I don't have to track you down."
"Track me down for what?" Kol questions curiously.
"There is something I need to show you," Marcel says, bending down to press a kiss on Davina's head before walking over to the door, "something only you can answer."
Kol frowns, looking down at the sleeping witch. "Don't you think we should stay to make sure she's okay?" he asks.
Marcel shakes his head, pausing at the door. "Josh is almost here, so she'll be fine until then," he says, walking out of the attic. His heavy footsteps are loud on the wood.
Josh?
That is a name that sounds very male.
Could she have a boyfriend?
Why does he care if she has a boyfriend or not? Davina is a beautiful young girl, and he wouldn't be surprised if she had male suitors lined up at her door, wanting a moment of her time.
"Who's Josh?" Kol calls after Marcel, following the vampire out of the attic to where Marcel is taking him.
Kol follows Marcel into a small warehouse located not far from the Quarter. He is being led down a dark and narrow stairwell to a hallway that is even darker. Thankfully, Kol's enhanced vision takes away some of the darkness allowing him to see where he is going. Marcel stops outside a door to enter a four-digit number into the number pad on the wall before opening the door to go inside. A light flickers on automatically as Marcel walks deeper into a room home to a wall with two rows of stainless steel doors. Kol feels that he is standing in some kind of a morgue. He finds his suspicions correct when Marcel walks over to a door in the middle, works it open, and pulls out a long table holding a black leather body bag.
"So, this place is here because if we fill the human morgues with dead people with bloody necks, people will start to get suspicious, which will lead to unwanted questions about our way of life," Marcel begins, dragging the zipper back to open the bag. "Also, when you live in a place where vampires roam the streets freely, you have the risk of people waking up in transition. People who accidentally end up in transition or don't fit the bill to be a vampire end up here. This is also where I store dead vampires until I can safely dispose of their bodies which is why I brought you here."
Smart idea. Kol is impressed by Marcel. This is one struggle that all supernatural creatures face on a daily basis, and that is to keep the mortal world from discovering the secret world of the supernatural. A world they believe to be purely fictional. The only good thing that comes from the mortal world is the endless supply of dinner options to keep their hunger satisfied until the next meal comes along.
"I want to make sure that I got the right guy," Marcel says, pulling back the bag's flaps to uncover the face of the dead man inside the back. "So, is this him?"
Kol glances at the face on display, searching for clues that will tell him otherwise, but he finds none. The structure of the jaw is the same. Nose is the same, Shape of the eyes is the same. The hair color is the same. "Yep, he's the one," Kol says, nodding at Marcel.
"Great," Marcel says, zipping the bag up and pushing the table back into the hole it came from. "My question is answered, but my problem isn't solved."
"What's the problem?" Kol asks.
"He's not one of my guys," Marcel says, pacing the floor in front of him, "I know all of my guys by face and by name, but I don't know this one."
Kol raises his eyebrow. "How is this a problem?" he questions him.
Marcel takes a break from his manic pacing. "An unknown vampire attacked Davina," he points out, "and I don't know the reason behind this attack."
Now, that is a problem.