Chapter Five

Davina groans in frustration as the vase she has been trying to levitate crashes to the floor in pieces. She flicks her wrist in a slow circular motion feeling the light burning in her veins as her magic comes to life. She closes her eyes as the burning surges in her veins, trying to keep it contained as the pieces rise from the floor, floating until the fragments piece together like a puzzle to take their original shape of the once broken vase. The vase is floating in the air once again. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes to focus on her magic to keep It floating in the air a little longer this time.

"What are you doing?"

Davina opens her eyes, using her magic to carefully set the vase on the floor, glancing over her shoulder at Josh, sitting in the pew behind her with a bag of Flaming Hot Funyuns in his lap. "Levitation is great practice for learning control. The heavier the object, the more magic is required to keep it floating. The more magic is needed, the more control is needed," she says, twisting around on her behind, holding her hand out. "I want my chips."

"I didn't bring these here for you," Josh teases, smirking as she narrows her eyes at him, snatching the bag of Flaming Hot Funyuns and holding it up in the air away from her, awaiting hand. "You shouldn't be eating these anyway," he says, lowering the bag back into his lap and shoving a handful into his mouth. "They are way too hot for you."

Davina snorts, climbing to her knees and then to her feet. "I can handle my spice," she says, grabbing the bag out of his hands as she sits beside him, helping herself to the bag. "Needs more heat if you ask me," she declares, stuffing another handful into her mouth, loving the peppery zing on her tongue, but she craves more heat. The spicier, the better. Spicy is the flavor of New Orleans, after all.

"You are insane," Josh mutters, leaning his head back. "My tongue feels like it's melting, and I'm a vampire." Josh breathes, waving his hand at his mouth, trying to calm the burning flames.

"I am insane," Davina giggles, pushing her hair out of her face. "You should be used to the spice by now. All that blood you drink is filled with the Cajun flavor of the city."

"That blood makes the spice tolerable," Josh argues. "Something about the coppery taste."

Davina scrunches up her nose at that. "Ew," she mutters, not wanting to think about the flavor of blood. She turns her attention to the vase on the floor, thinking of ways to challenge her control. She loves a great challenge and hates when things are too easy. The more complicated the challenge, the more accomplished she feels when meeting her goal.

The vase is a great challenge, and she is looking forward to moving on to something else when she can make the vase float for a certain amount of time before it crashes and breaks. The goal is to pick the vase up from the floor, allow it to float for a certain amount of time, and lower it to the floor without breaking it. She hasn't been able to hold the vase in the air for more than a few seconds, and she blames that on not being able to use her magic as openly as she wishes. The more she uses her magic, the more control she will have over her magic.

Magic will be the greatest challenge of her life because the goal is getting the magic to listen to her. Magic and witches are strangers until they come to respect one another. Magic is wild like an animal in the deepest jungles of the world. And like a wild animal, magic is dangerous when it is not controlled. Her magic is also affected by her emotions. The more out of control her emotions are, the more out of control her magic is. Her emotions are as expected, considering she is only a teenager and not yet an adult. The teenage years are when witches should be deep in the study of their craft to help fight the hormonal imbalances as they near their adult years.

She is also a young witch with barely any life experiences that witches use to shape how they use their magic. Witches have a choice in how they use their magic throughout their lives. She has no idea how she wants to use her magic. Since the night of the Harvest, this thought has lingered in her mind. Seeing magic being used in such a way makes her not want to practice at all. She doesn't want to become a monster like the witches of her coven or more of a monster than she already is.

Memories of flames and smoke cloud her mind, taking her back to the night that changed the course of her life forever. Everything happened so fast that the night left her filled with many unanswered questions and confusion. She doesn't even remember all that happened except the fire and the lives that the fire claimed. After that, she bounced from one foster home to another within the witch community, hoping to find somewhere she could call home with a family that truly loved her. A place that she has yet to find and probably never will since she will be eighteen next year, and she doesn't know if she will live to see her eighteenth year. It's a rule to keep orphaned children within the community to keep the mortal from discovering their part of the world. It's also to keep the children from being cut off from their magic which is what happens when removed from the witch community. When children are unable to use magic, their magic will grow dormant, and that will have explosive consequences when the magic is finally released.

Something knocks on Davina's head, breaking her from her thoughts to see a hand waving in front of her face, and she turns her head to look at Josh.

"Where the hell did you go?" he asks her, lowering his hand as he glances to the front. "Can you dial back the flames before you burn the place down?"

"Huh?" Davina mutters, following Josh's eyes to see the flames on the candles, standing an inch tall and flickering angrily. "Oh…" she gasps, closing her eyes, feeling for the heat of the flames in her magic.

She connects with the flames, searching for the element of earth that gives the balance of life to fire. She gasps as the oxygen fueling the fire's burn filling her veins with the element of air, and she searches for the element of water. Davina allows it to flow through her veins like a mighty river. The coolness of the water meets the burning essence of the blaze. Davina loves the feel of the calming nature of water as it lulls the burning in the fire to sleep, making her smile. It's one of her favorite feelings in the world.

Water has always been a great source of comfort for her. The sight. The sound. The feel. Everything about water, she loves. Davina loves using it in her artwork. Watercolors are always her best paintings, and it's her favorite medium. It even beats her love of a pencil. It's the control water offers. The water level mixing with paint is what gives the color a dark hue or a light hue. She misses her watercolors and has been tempted to ask Marcel to buy her some, but she is picky regarding her watercolor paints. She has her favorite brands, and those brands can be harsh on the pocket. Besides, she likes to buy her paints herself because she knows what to buy. Davina loves Marcel, and she owes him her life, but the blank look on his face during her rants on watercolor paint is enough to tell her that he knows nothing when it comes to art mediums. She is an artist at heart, so sue her for liking what she likes to use.

Pencils are a different story and easier to find. There is one brand that she sticks to, Faber-Castell, for her pencil works both graphite and color. She feels they have the best texture for the landscapes she loves to draw. Water always makes her think of art which is another great source of comfort for her since it allows her to escape this world for a little while.

Davina takes a deep, calming breath, allows the heat of her magic to cool into a light slumber, and opens her eyes. She smiles when she sees the flames are back in their gentle form, offering the place light and love as fire always should. "Better?" she says, turning to Josh.

"Okay, I am seriously jealous of you," he says, shaking his head with awe in his tone. "That is really fucking cool."

"What do you have to be jealous of?" Davina asks him, grinning at him. "You have superspeed, superhearing, and superhealing. Isn't that cool enough for you?"

"It's cool," Josh agrees, "but you have the magic and the man."

Davina jerks her head back at that. "The man? What man?" she asks him, trying to understand what he is referring to.

"A certain new vampire that is new to the town," Josh says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and thumbing at the screen before turning it around to see what is on it.

"Kol?" Davina sputters, feeling her cheeks burn at the sight of the Original's smug mug on his screen. "He's not my man. Why would you even say that?"

"Overheard Diego telling Marcel about Kol snapping his neck earlier today," Josh says, pocketing his phone. "Diego was the one standing guard until I finished the job Marcel had me on, and it turns out that this is the same Kol that saved you just last night."

"So?" Davina says, getting up from the pew to pick the vase up to place back on the alter. "He just came by to get his jacket back, and that doesn't make him my man."

"Ooh, you're red," Josh teases, getting up to follow Davina as she walks over to the stairs to go up to the attic. "You're cute when you blush."

"Shut up," Davina snaps, feeling her face burn under his words, but that burning feeling vanishes when a heavy force of magic washes over her. "Oh no…" she breathes as it grows heavier as the world grows wide around her.

"Davina?" Josh's voice floats through the air sounding far away. She feels a hand on her shoulder as she opens her mouth to warn him as the magic is pressing on her lungs, taking away her oxygen and her voice. "What's wrong?" Josh asks, appearing beside her, cupping her face. The feel of magic isn't connected to a single soul but multiple souls. Those souls feel very close to her as if they surround her.

Davina gasps, looking around the church, trying to find those souls. "They're here," she says as the world fades away, and Josh's voice is the last thing she hears.

"Davina!"

After dealing with his business at the docks, Marcel stops by his place to grab a quick shower before heading to the bar. The thick humidity has him sticky and gross and he wants to get rid of that nasty feeling.

Minutes later, Marcel steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel around his waist as he walks into his bedroom. He quickly dries off, trading the towel for a dark blue shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He runs his hands over his head as he sits on the bed, sinking into his thoughts as he glares a hole into his floor. His eyes burn, begging for a couple of hours of sleep, but sleep will have to wait as it always does. His city doesn't run on sleep after all, and Marcel doesn't trust anyone with his city but himself. He wants it run right, and if he wants something done right, he has to do it himself. Even if he did crawl back on the bed and lay his head on the pillow, he knows he will not fall asleep.

Why?

Kol Mikaelson.

Kol Mikaelson has stepped his foot back into his city, and he doesn't know how he feels about it. Seeing the man has stirred up some leftover feelings about the Mikaelsons leaving him behind in the ashes he hasn't felt in a long time. It crosses his mind from time to time since they fled the city. He always wondered why they never looked back for him. They are his family or are supposed to be his family. They said this to him many times as he grew up as a small child. Their fleeing had him questioning if they had actually meant those words or had been lying to him the whole time he lived with them.

Hell, he's even missed them. All of them in their own right, even if they had qualities, he didn't like. The days after they fled the city had been filled with great sadness because he didn't know if they had survived or not. As the years kept ticking by, Marcel would pick up the name of Klaus Mikaelson in conversation in the present tense, telling him that his father figure had survived. This is when the sadness and grief turned into bitter anger.

Kol isn't the one who abandoned him, only a piece of his family, and it is enough to bring that hurt roaring back. It's easy for him to lash out at Kol because he serves as a target for all that anger that he holds on to. This anger feeds his need to keep his city so great so that he can show Klaus that he survived and shaped the city into his kingdom. A kingdom that is he damn proud of and has a right to be proud of because it is all his.

But still, Marcel wants to walk up to Kol and punch the fucker until his anger dissipates, or maybe it was seeing him with Davina, looking right at home, and he can't have that.

And Davina.

Davina.

Davina.

The girl who lives in his head rent free and clouds every thought. That poor girl. She has shared her painful childhood, and he wishes he had found her sooner. If only to get her out of this town and away from the evil that wishes her dead. Or get her out of town and into a family where she could grow up and be only what a child should be. A child. A child who grows up to live a normal life. Going to a school of her choice to have the art career she deserves to have. He's seen her artwork and wants to give her the world, so her talent grows. Her pieces deserve their own gallery so people can come and admire her work.

But it's not that simple because it's never that simple when it comes to the witch community. It kills him to keep her locked up in that attic, but Marcel doesn't know where to put her. He doesn't know what it is about this girl, but he doesn't want to put her out of his reach. He wants her close to him so he can ensure no harm comes to her. He doesn't trust anyone in this city not to turn her into the witches so they can finish what they started. So, he keeps her where no one will find her, and if his vampire men turn on him to help the witches, he will kill them, no questions asked. There are more than enough people in this city to fill those empty slots.

He just doesn't know what to do, and he's never been a parent or learned how to be a parent. Parenting does come with several manuals, but they are mainly for babies and not teenagers with a traumatic past. Marcel is determined never to let her down. She's had enough people do that, and he will not be the next. He will do what needs to be done so she can see another day. Marcel pushes himself off the bed, grabbing his phone to stuff in his pocket. He looks around the empty room, checking to see if he's forgetting anything before walking out the door.

The sun is high over his head and is brutal as it slays his city in a heavy damp heat. He walks three feet from his compound, and already there are beads of sweat on his head. Being the southern gentleman he is, he nods at people with a polite smile as he passes by them. He stops to hold the door open for an elderly lady and even offers to help her to her car.

After placing her things in her truck as neatly as possible, he continues down the street. Marcel looks around and smiles when he sees his city is alive and well. The sound of the jazz floating through the air as it always should. A group of girls stop him and ask him how to get to a place, and of course, he points them in the direction and tells them how far to go. The girls remind him to check on Davina, so he pulls out his phone and searches for her name. He gets a lot of texts throughout his day so her name gets buried. When he finds her name, he taps it and puts the phone to his ear.

It rings until it goes to voicemail. He listens to her weird little voice message, but he hangs up and calls her again. It still rings until it goes voicemail. Marcel frowns as he ends the call and scrolls until he finds Josh's number and taps it. It goes straight to voicemail and it sends a flash of worry down his spine.

Marcel grits his teeth as he pockets his phone and turns around to head toward the church. He looks to the sky, asking the clouds why on earth he decided to deal with teenagers when adults are much easier to handle.