sigh* The formatting is always off here. Either italics don't show up, or scene breaks. If you want to read elsewhere, this story is also up on "a oh three." *

--

The Bentley glided through the downtown streets, its presence quiet and regal. The glow of the setting sun and the metal and glass buildings reflected over its sleek black exterior, the engine a low purr beneath Elijah's measured grip on the wheel. This was not an unfamiliar route. He had walked it before, had watched from the shadows, observed and calculated—before he had finally met Liza what was over a week ago. But it felt longer. It was funny how an immortal life felt—sometimes time went slowly, insignificantly, but sometimes a decade blurred past. Sometimes, the shared events endured by people made a week seem far more.

When he had stepped into the tea shop, he had posed as nothing more than a customer and listened to the practiced cadence of Liza's voice as she took orders. He had watched the way she had existed in this world–unbothered, unaware of what was coming for her.

And yet, now it was different. She was expecting him. And he always kept his promises.

He could rationalize it as a necessity–ensuring her safety, keeping her under his watchful eyes rather than letting her go to the Gold Coast house, alone and unguarded. But necessity did not explain why he had adjusted his appearance so tediously before leaving. Why he had chosen this car from the garage, belonging to the previous owners, something pretentious and expensive when any vehicle would have sufficed. Why there was an undercurrent of something almost anticipatory threading through his otherwise composed demeanor.

As he turned onto the final stretch of road, his eyes found her immediately in the distance.

Liza stood on the sidewalk outside the tea shop, arms crossed over her chest against the chill air. Her dark green leather jacket was zipped up all the way, her boots scuffing lightly against the pavement as she shifted her weight. She wasn't looking for him–yet. He was the one with eagle-eyed vision.

Pedestrians moved past her. Cars, buses, and taxis rolled by, but she remained still. Waiting.

Elijah eased the Bentley to a smooth stop at the curb, watching as she finally lifted her gaze toward him. The sunlight caught in her brown eyes, reflecting a softness. It warmed her hair, highlighting the copper tones in it.

Something about this moment felt significant.

The car door opened with a muted thud as he stepped out, his movements gliding. The evening air was sharp, the city alive around them, but the only thing Elijah focused on was the way Liza watched him–like she was still deciding whether or not she should have let him do this in the first place. But a part of her looked relieved, a hint of a smile on her face.

And as he held her gaze, he already knew there was no turning back.

Liza adjusted the strap of her bag, bracing herself. This wasn't normal. Being picked up from work in a car that cost more than her entire life wasn't normal. Having an Original vampire waiting for her like some kind of personal chauffeur definitely wasn't normal. And yet, Elijah Mikaelson made it look like it wasn't a big deal. The sunset cut sharp shadows along the crisp lines of his suit, his presence somehow more pronounced against the mundane cityscape. Without a word, he pulled open the passenger door, his attention settling on her with polite yet rapt expectation.

Liza huffed, tilting her head. "You know, I'm perfectly capable of opening my own doors," she had to say. Most men nowadays didn't do this.

Elijah's expression didn't shift, but there was the faintest glint in his eyes. "I have no doubt."

She hesitated, then stepped forward. As she reached the car, she glanced up at him, searching for something beneath all that composure. This shouldn't have been a big deal. An errand for him. But it was, wasn't it?

"Appreciate the ride," she muttered before sliding into the seat.

Elijah said nothing as he closed the door behind her, but as he moved around the front of the car, Liza found herself gripping her bag a little tighter after she strapped in. She wasn't scared. It wasn't fear that made her heart beat a little faster. It was the idea of them being alone.

Elijah eased into the driver's seat, his movements precise and fluid as he fastened his seatbelt. With a glance at Liza, he engaged the engine into drive, the Bentley responding to the silent command. As he pulled back into traffic, the lights changed as though in tune with his presence, creating a clear path forward.

"Thank you for allowing me to pick you up," he began, the quiet hum of the car a backdrop for his voice. "I trust your day was uneventful?"

Liza glanced at him, her brown eyes on his profile for a beat longer than needed–his chiseled jawline peppered lightly with a five o'clock shadow. His hair was styled, combed to the side, not too much, not too little. She quickly looked ahead at the street, trying to focus on it.

"Yes. Uneventful and routine. It was kind of nice talking about tea with customers for a change, as opposed to supernatural problems," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

The inside of the Bentley smelled new, but it also smelled of Elijah's cologne, no doubt expensive, and quite lovely. There was no way she could place the notes, but they were cool, slightly peppery. Her heartbeat picked up from smelling it alone. It was the scent of a rich, handsome man. She was not going to comment on it, even as she found herself taking a longer breath. Elijah had always dressed nicely, ever since she met him over ten days ago. That was just him. Naturally, the car fit him, too.

Elijah's senses were finely attuned, and the uptick in Liza's heartbeat didn't escape his notice. He allowed a hint of a smile to curve the corner of his lips, though his eyes remained on the road ahead.

"Ah, the simplicity of discussing tea," he mused, his tone carrying a thread of genuine interest. "One could almost forget the chaos that shadows our world, if only for a moment."

His fingers adjusted the wheel subtly, navigating into the other lane with an ease that seemed to mirror his own demeanor–poised, controlled, and yet subtly powerful. It was intimidating to most, but at this moment.. Well, her heartbeat skipped again.

She raised a brow, looking at him again. "Did you even drink that tea I sold you when we first met, before I knew who you were?" she asked him. "You bought six different kinds." He probably did it just for show–he'd pretended he was a customer. And she'd fallen for it.

There was a measured pause before he replied, his words chosen with care.

"I did indeed partake in the tea," he replied, honest. "All those you recommended to me, in fact. Each one was an interesting reflection of the blend, a nuanced dance of flavors quite unlike any ordinary brew."

"Oh," was her response. Her grasp on her purse relaxed slightly.

He glanced at her. "And your selections led me to discover a preference for the Earl Grey with lavender," he continued. "The bergamot lends a refreshing, citrusy note that I find particularly appealing. The lavender a softness. Your recommendation was... very good."

The car cruised smoothly around a Toyota, the evening light shining a warm glow over Liza's face. Elijah's attention shifted back to the road before returning to her, again, expectant.

She ducked her head, suddenly shy. "I'm... I'm glad."

"Tell me, Liza," he said quietly. "How did you acquire such an interest in tea?"

Liza felt herself smiling before she could help it. "Well, most Russians love tea. Most Eastern Europeans. I... grew up drinking it. And when I needed a job, I thought I could get one selling tea. It beats selling something you don't care for. Like, I don't know, vacuums." She lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

Elijah listened with rapt attention, his gaze thoughtful as he absorbed her words. His own smile grew. "Tea, a common thread through generations and cultures," he said. "I've found it to offer solace in many forms throughout my years. A comforting ritual."

His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel. He observed her expression for a moment yet again.

"But I'm also going to resume going back to grad school in the summer. I took the quarter off. To…" she looked out her window. A sigh. This one resigned. "Get it together."

"A pursuit of higher education is commendable," he noted, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "What field?"

Liza smiled again, but this time, it didn't reach her face. "Marketing. I like it too. Maybe I'll get a job marketing tea." It was a poor attempt at a joke. With all of their problems now, she couldn't see a straight trajectory anymore. School would have to wait until her life was safe.

Elijah saw the shadow that crossed her face when discussing her future. "Marketing is a dynamic field," he remarked positively. "It requires a keen eye for understanding people–their desires, their motivations. Skills you undoubtedly possess." He turned the car down a less congested road, the city lights reflecting off the hood of the Bentley.

Liza didn't say anything right away. He was just trying to be encouraging. He patiently waited for her to speak again. She gazed out her window–at the people going from work, or going out for the evening. Men, women, children. Teenagers. All leading normal lives. Walking dogs. Bringing take-out home. Shopping.

"I need to know I'm safe first, Elijah," she finally said, a little tersely. "And whether I can claim my power fully to-to... what we talked about last night. That is if all of you agree to becoming human, if it ends up being possible." She looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "Are you on the same page–you and your brother and sister? Or are you waiting to see if I can even get there first?"

Elijah's gaze remained steady on the road, his face turning stoic despite Liza's tone. The air in the car shifted slightly, becoming weightier with their shared concerns.

"Safety first," he agreed, his voice measured yet understanding. "And I assure you, Liza, my siblings and I are fully aligned in this endeavor." His eyes briefly flickered to her, determination in their depths. "Our commitment to this path is unwavering. We stand united in our desire to reclaim our humanity."

"Okay," she sounded unconvinced, "but what about Klaus? Sounded like he wasn't too keen on it. He likes what he is. I have a hard time seeing him wanting to embrace a human life, being weak, no longer on top of the food chain."

Elijah's grip on the wheel tightened a little as he contemplated Liza's question. She was right. Klaus, while he seemed like he was going along with their plans, had never expressed straightforward interest in changing who he was.

"Klaus, much like the rest of us, understands the allure of immortality," Elijah said. "But immortality also comes with a multitude of burdens–the loss of those we cherish, the perpetual loneliness of outliving almost everyone. The insignificance of time. The curse of eternal youth is a double-edged sword."

Liza nodded slowly, allowing a beat of silence between them. "And... your sirelines? Do you guys care about them? If every other vampire turns human, too, and doesn't die."

Elijah looked at her. "Our sirelines... They have been a part of our lives for centuries," he admitted quietly. "But the prospect of a fresh start, a chance at mortality... It outweighs any attachment I might have to those that have been made in our image."

"So... Klaus, what about him?" she prompted. He hadn't answered her question.

"He will make the right decision." A flicker of resolve passed through his dark eyes. As if he wouldn't take a no for an answer from his brother. "As for our sirelines, perhaps they too should be unburdened by the curse of immortality that has shaped our existence for far too long."

They had to slow down with the evening traffic.

"And if they find out–if–and try to stop us, stop me, we'll be outnumbered," Liza said, shuddering as she said it.

"Liza," he began, his voice low and steady, "the advantage we possess is not merely in strength, but in knowledge and experience. My family has survived countless adversaries and has learned the ways of war, deception, and diplomacy in equal measure."

She didn't look convinced as she looked down at her lap,

He gauged her reaction before continuing, "As for those who might oppose us, we will face them as we always have–with cunning and strategy. Fear not. We are no strangers to adversity."

Liza let out a breath, looking up again. "I told you yesterday I am scared. I've... never been more terrified." It was hard to admit that, not because she was proud but because she didn't feel completely safe yet despite his promises.

Elijah's expression softened again. Then, boldly, without thinking twice, he reached over–a comforting touch to her arm–a silent reminder of his presence and support. She froze as she looked down at the contact. She held her breath.

"Fear is a natural response to the unknown," he said, "I would be remiss not to acknowledge the challenges we face, but rest assured, Liza..." He paused, meeting her gaze intently. She didn't look away this time, finally exhaling. "You are not alone in this. We stand together, and we will face what comes with equal parts caution, resilience, and, if necessary, force."

Liza swallowed hard. His promise made warmth flutter in her stomach. She uncurled her hand from her purse and moved it–to put over his. His skin was cooler than her own but not unpleasant, not at all. "Just... just keep reminding me of that," she requested softly.

"I shall, Liza," he said. His fingers lightly curled over her forearm in a gentle squeeze. "As many times as you need, until the fear subsides. I am a man of my word."

Though his eyes returned to their drive, as he guided the wheel one-handed, his attention was attuned to Liza, ready to provide as much comfort and reassurance as she needed.

"Thank you," she said. She was first to remove her hand. Then he did as well, slower, perhaps a bit reluctant.

"You are most welcome," he replied.

He continued driving, drawing them ever closer to the newly borrowed house that Klaus had acquired for them. The night was settling outside. The buzz of the city outside blended into the background of their shared silence.

When the Bentley pulled smoothly onto the mansion's driveway, the gates opened after a press of a button. Elijah drove directly into the four-car garage–the other spots were all taken. There was an Aston Martin, a G-Wagon, and a third smaller car hidden under a cover. Elijah exited first, stepping around the Bentley to open Liza's door for her. She accepted the gesture without comment, though there was a flicker of something in her gaze as she stepped out. He held her eyes for a moment with that hint of a smile. It made her dip her chin, breaking the eye contact first.

As soon as they stepped inside the house, she could smell something rich, something buttery and spiced. A stark contrast to Elijah's intoxicating cologne and the smell of the expensive leather of the Bentley's interior.

Inside, Klaus was sprawled in a chair at the dining table, his feet propped up on another chair, swirling a glass of wine in one hand. Ollie was just setting a plate on the table, a proud grin on her face. Ramses was curled nearby, entirely at ease, tail thumping eagerly against the floor when he saw Liza.

"Well, well," Klaus drawled, his sharp gaze flicking from the witch to Elijah, amusement glinting in his eyes. "How was the drive? Enjoyable?"

Elijah leveled him with a look. "Uneventful."

"Hmm." Klaus' smirk deepened, unconvinced. "Pity."

Ollie rolled her eyes at the exchange. "Ignore him," she told Liza. "More importantly, we cooked. Well–I cooked, Klaus assisted."

"I was invaluable," Klaus corrected, lifting his wine glass in a mock toast to himself.

Liza's brows lifted, skeptical. "You helped?"

"I know, shocking," Ollie deadpanned. "But turns out, when he's not being a menace, he's decent with a knife." She gestured toward the food. "Braised beef, rosemary potatoes, caramelized carrots, and fresh bread–because apparently, the previous owners left a fully stocked kitchen, and I had to take advantage."

Elijah exhaled quietly, though there was something like gratitude in his expression. It had been a long time since a meal had been prepared like this, shared like this. Even for them, who did not need to eat human food, the act itself was grounding. Domestic and normal.

Liza inhaled deeply, appreciating the aroma as she leaned a little over the table, looking at the spread. "Damn," she admitted. "That's actually impressive, Ol."

Klaus grinned, ever smug. "I do have layers, love."

Ollie tossed a towel at him, which he caught, his arm shooting upward. "Shut up. She meant me," she said.

Elijah glanced at Liza before gesturing toward the table. "Shall we?"

She hesitated only a moment before nodding and sitting. Whatever came next, whatever they had to face, at least for tonight, there was food, warmth, and something that almost resembled peace.

Klaus leaned back in his chair. "Well, well. Our dear sister seems to be running fashionably late."

Elijah, already settled in, barely spared him a glance. "Yes. She must have her own affairs to tend to."

Klaus hummed, tapping a finger against the rim of his glass. "So it would seem. Though I do wonder what could be keeping her so preoccupied." He tilted his head, feigning deep thought. "Shopping? Sightseeing? Or something far more... diverting?"

Ollie, loading her plate with roasted vegetables, arched a brow. "You guys ever just text her and ask?"

Klaus scoffed, setting his glass down with a soft clink before filling his own plate. "Where's the fun in that?"

Liza, cutting into her chicken, barely looked up. She was starving by now, her lunch having been hours ago. "Maybe she just wanted a break from you two."

Klaus pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "You wound me, love." Then, with an amused glance toward Elijah, he added, "Though, truly, I wouldn't blame her."

Elijah sighed through his nose, not rising to the bait. "She'll return when she's ready." He cut and speared a potato with the proper etiquette he had. Unlike Klaus, who jabbed his food with his fork.

Klaus huffed, clearly unimpressed with the lack of concern. "Well, I, for one, am very curious. But I suppose we'll simply have to wait and see, won't we?"

Ollie reached for the breadbasket. "You're so dramatic."

Klaus tossed her a smirk. "And yet, you love it."

"No, I don't," Ollie assured quickly. Liza raised an eyebrow at her across the table.

"In the meantime, let's enjoy this fine meal that has been prepared for us," Elijah suggested. He glanced at Liza, looking her over with a quick sweep of his gaze. He didn't need to, but he did. She was at ease–eating with vigor–not even noticing his lingering attention.

The evening had settled into something almost... ordinary. If such a word could ever apply to the Mikaelsons. The meal–absolutely deliciously made by self-proclaimed amateur chef Ollie–filled the house with contentment that was rare in their world. Conversation had drifted to lighter topics–Ollie and Klaus exchanging sharp-witted jabs, Liza listening, happy to stay in the background while Elijah ensured everything remained civil. The fire crackled in the hearth just outside the dining room, in the parlor, casting flickering light on the grand walls.

Then, halfway through the dinner, the front door opened. All eyes shot toward the entrance as Rebekah stepped inside, her heels clacking on the polished floor as she neared. She paused briefly, gaze sweeping over the dining room before she strode in, unbothered, as if she hadn't just been missing for hours.

Klaus, ever the first to speak, leaned back in his chair with a slow smirk. "Ah, finally gracing us with your presence, sister," he wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin, "I was beginning to think you'd found something–" he tilted his glass toward Elijah, "–or someone–more interesting than family dinner."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, brushing past him toward the sideboard, where a decanter of bourbon awaited. "I had matters to tend to." She poured herself a generous amount.

Elijah noted the hesitation in her tone before she even reached for a glass. He set his cutlery down with quiet precision. "And what matters would those be?"

For the briefest moment, Rebekah hesitated–just enough for her brothers, who knew her best, to catch it. She took a delicate but deliberate sip before exhaling. "I saw Marcel."

The weight of her words settled over the table. Klaus stared at her. Elijah's expression remained schooled, but his fingers tapped lightly against his glass.

Klaus finally exhaled a sharp, incredulous laugh, putting his fork down with an exaggerated clatter. "Oh, brilliant. And here I thought we all agreed not to involve dear Marcel any further."

Ollie, who had been mid-bite, exchanged a glance with Liza before arching a brow.

Elijah, however, was more tactful in his approach. "What exactly did you discuss?"

Rebekah exhaled, walking over and leaning against an empty chair. "He already knew something was off," she said. "He's not stupid." She lifted her glass to her lips again. "I thought it was important to see exactly how much he knows."

Klaus scoffed, shaking his head. "And?"

She lowered her glass down on the table with a clank. "He said he's looking into Benny's death. He has contacts in Los Angeles."

Elijah's jaw tensed, though he did not immediately voice his thoughts. Klaus let out a dry chuckle, though there was no humor behind it. "Of course he does."

Liza sat back in her chair, setting her hands on her thighs, tensing her calves under her chair. "Is this as bad as it sounds?"

Rebekah tilted her head. "That depends." She glanced at Elijah. "Do we trust Marcel not to pull at the wrong threads?"

Elijah met Rebekah's gaze steadily. "Marcel is as cunning as he is loyal. If he's taken an interest in Benny's death, he will pursue the truth to the end."

Klaus scowled, clearly displeased. "Which is exactly why we should have kept him out of this."

Elijah's gaze flitted to him. "He is not one to sit idly by when something piques his curiosity."

Klaus knocked back the rest of his wine before he shot a pointed look at Rebekah. "You do remember we agreed to keep him in the dark, yes? Or did that conveniently slip your mind the moment you found yourself alone with him?"

Rebekah's eyes flashed with irritation. "I didn't tell him anything he didn't already suspect. He was going to keep digging either way, and I'd rather know what he's looking for than be blindsided when he finds it."

Elijah, ever composed, cut in, his tone sharp with quiet authority. "A fascinating argument, Niklaus, considering you were the one who first mentioned a witch to Marcel the moment we arrived." He met his brother's gaze as his jaw tensed. "Or have you forgotten that your inability to hold your tongue forced me to explain Benny, Liza's grandmother, and my coming to Chicago?"

Klaus' smirk wavered for a fraction of a second, feigning indifference. "Details, brother. And yet, here we are–with our dear sister fanning the flames instead of letting them die out."

Ollie, who had been silently watching the verbal tennis match, exhaled sharply. "So, what, we're blaming each other now? That's productive." She glanced between the three of them, gesturing with her fork. "What happens when he actually finds something? Because from what I'm gathering, that's a when, not an if."

Klaus laughed again. "Oh, he'll find something, darling. The question is whether he'll be smart enough to stop before it leads him somewhere dangerous." His smirk faded, a flicker of something darker settling in his expression. "And if he doesn't... well, we've handled bigger problems before."

Liza shifted in her seat. "I don't like this," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Rebekah sighed, raising her drink again. "None of us do."

Elijah regarded his siblings patiently, somehow. "We will not resolve anything tonight. What's done is done," he said, looking pointedly between Rebekah and Klaus. "What we must focus on now is preventing any further interference. We cannot allow anyone, including Marcel, to expose our vulnerabilities." He shifted his attention to Liza, his expression softening slightly. "Your focus remains the same–mastering your abilities and preparing for the day you will need to perform the spell in the lake."

Liza lost her appetite to finish the rest of her food. Instead, she had a big gulp of her wine.

Rebekah let out a breath, swirling her bourbon. "Marcel's not stupid. He knows something's off, but he also knows better than to push too hard." Her gaze moved between them, lingering on Klaus. "And I… trust him, for now, even if you two refuse to."

Klaus scoffed. "Trust? That's a lovely sentiment, sister, but trust has never stopped a man from choosing self-preservation over loyalty." He leaned back in his chair, a sneer pulling at his lips. "If Marcel finds out what we're planning, it won't be long before others do. Then what? Shall we trust them, too?"

Ollie shook her head as she pushed her plate away. "I swear, the way you guys talk, it's like you expect everyone to betray you."

Klaus shot her a look. "Experience, love. It's a rather cruel teacher," he said bitterly.

Liza, quiet for most of the exchange, finally spoke again, her voice steady but laced with tension. "It's not just Marcel I'm worried about. If he's digging into Benny's death, he's going to find something. Maybe not about me, not yet, but something close enough that it won't take long." She glanced at Rebekah. "You said he has contacts in L.A.? What if one of them talks to the wrong person?"

Rebekah sighed, rubbing her temple. "Then we'll deal with it. One problem at a time."

Ollie gave Liza a sideways glance, lowering her voice. "We should start thinking about what happens if–when–this gets bigger than just us."

Klaus refilled his glass with wine, then filled Ollie's. "Oh, darling, it already has."

Elijah's gaze moved between them, absorbing their words. But his thoughts had already begun to sift through potential outcomes, his mind mapping the chessboard several moves ahead.

"One problem at a time," he echoed, though his eyes were calculating as he met Rebekah's. "Marcel might be trustworthy, but he is only one piece of a much larger puzzle. We cannot afford to let our guard down."

Rebekah set her glass down with a sharp clink again, annoyance flickering across her face before she schooled her expression back into some semblance of composure. "You act like we don't already know that, Elijah." She folded her arms. "We're not reckless, despite what you might think."

Klaus smirked, unbothered by the tension. "Speak for yourself, sister." He leaned forward, his elbows on the edge of the table. "Marcel won't stop looking, and I'd rather we control what he finds rather than leaving it to chance. If we let him sniff around blindly, he will uncover something we'd probably rather keep buried."

Liza narrowed her eyes. "So what, you want to feed him false information?"

Klaus grinned, a glint of mischief sparking in his own gaze. "Now you're catching on, love."

Ollie arched a brow. "Or, you know, you could not play some manipulative vampire game with him and just–" She gestured vaguely. "I don't know, not piss him off?"

Klaus chuckled darkly, balancing his glass with the stem between two fingers. "Where's the fun in that?"

Rebekah rolled her eyes, but her expression was contemplative. "We need to be careful. If we do start playing games with Marcel, we can't underestimate how much he already knows."

Liza pressed her lips together, looking away across the room but at nothing in particular. She felt dread crawl across her skin, prickling. "Then it's only a matter of time before he starts looking into me..."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Ollie nudged Liza's leg under the table. "We'll handle it," she said, quieter now, reassurance beneath her words.

Klaus tilted his head. "Yes, we will."

Elijah's attention drifted to Liza, his expression thoughtful yet serious. "Marcel has a particular talent for uncovering secrets," he said after a moment. "If he has indeed started looking into Benjamin's death, it won't be long before he stumbles upon your connection."

Liza winced, felt like her dinner might come up as her stomach did a flip.

Elijah leaned forward slightly. "We need a plan. A meticulous one. We cannot afford to let the truth about Liza and her grandmother fall into the wrong hands."

Liza pushed back from the table. "I need some air," she muttered, already standing. "And a cigarette."

Klaus smirked, watching her with lazy amusement. "Ah, the universal cure for existential dread."

Rebekah sighed. "Try not to spiral while you're out there, darling. We've had enough dramatics for one evening."

Ollie shot her a sharp look. "Right, because you lot are handling this with perfect emotional regulation."

Rebekah scowled but didn't argue as she refilled her glass with bourbon.

Elijah simply regarded Liza with that measured, gentle gaze of his. But something had shifted–his concern, once strictly pragmatic, was beginning to feel like something more.

"Don't be long," he said. "There's still more to discuss."

Liza nodded, pretending not to notice the change in him. She needed space. Klaus, of course, couldn't let her leave without one last remark.

"Do try not to run," he called. "You know how I love to chase." Liza didn't bother flipping Klaus off, but it was a near thing.

Ollie stood up too, putting her napkin on the table. "I'll follow you. Come on, Rams." The dog trotted after.

As Elijah watched Liza slip away, Klaus raised an eyebrow, a smirk at the corner of his lips. "What's this, brother? Concern for the little witch?"

Elijah gave his brother a pointed look, his expression restrained in the face of his brother's teasing. "You should learn to have a bit more respect, Niklaus. She's not just a witch. She may be our ticket to finally ending this cycle of violence."

Rebekah finally sat in the empty chair. "And yet, you watch her like a man on the brink."

Klaus chuckled, arching a brow at Elijah's stoic expression. "Oh, come now, brother. It's amusing. The noble Elijah, taken with a human girl." His gaze shifted to the doorway Liza and Ollie had gone through, smiling. "Who also happens to be the key to our 'salvation.'" He was still not taking it seriously.

Elijah straightened, his gaze sharp. Klaus had needled him the other day, and he wouldn't let it happen again. "I think she's proven she's more than just a human girl," he countered. "As for 'taken'... don't confuse my interest in her abilities with something more personal."

Rebekah, who had been observing the exchange with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, couldn't resist adding her thoughts. "Elijah does have a point, Nik. Perhaps your obsession with finding romance in every corner is clouding your judgment."

Klaus rolled his eyes dramatically. "Ah, yes, Rebekah. Because your track record with relationships is so much better. Remind me, where's your darling Marcel again?"

Rebekah sneered at her brother's jab, but Elijah's voice cut through the tension before she could respond. "Enough. We have more pressing matters at hand."

The courtyard was cool, the night air crisp. The city's distant buzz barely reached beyond the estate walls. Liza pulled out her cigarettes, gave Ollie one, then took out her lighter. She lit her own cigarette, then Ollie's. Both girls inhaled drags and exhaled almost at the same time.

"On a scale of one to full existential meltdown, where are we?" Ollie asked.

Liza let out a flat laugh, shaking her head. "Hovering somewhere around 'suppressing everything until it explodes later.'"

"Healthy," Ollie quipped, taking another drag.

They stood in silence for a moment, smoke curling between them as Ramses went ahead, his nose to the ground, sniffing out every possible scent before finding a suitable spot to relieve himself. The sound of his trickling was the only sound between them for a while.

Liza eventually sighed, ducking her head to look at her feet. "Marcel, the Council, this spell I'm supposed to pull off–it's too much. And now I have a bunch of centuries-old vampires waiting for me to... I don't know, re-write their existence. Like I'm some kind of divine reset button."

Ollie nudged her shoulder with her own. "At least you're not doing it alone. You've got me, and them," she said, nodding toward the house. "Even if they are more dramatic than a telenovela."

Liza laughed in spite of herself. "Yeah. I know."

They both fell quiet again, watching as Ramses became particularly interested in a manicured hedge.

Ollie finally broke the silence, her voice softer. "You are gonna get serious about this magic thing, right?"

Liza hesitated, then flicked ash from her cigarette. "I don't have a choice."

"Nope," Ollie agreed. "But if you need back-up, moral support, someone to make sure you don't accidentally set the house on fire–I got you."

Liza smiled faintly. "Thanks."

Ollie smirked, reaching out to give her a one-armed hug. "Anytime, Sabrina the Teenage Witch."

Squeezing her back, Liza reluctantly chuckled and took another slow drag, watching the ember at the tip of her cigarette glow against the darkness. "So," she started, exhaling smoke in a steady stream, "you and Klaus. Cooking. Is that a thing now?"

Ollie snorted, flicking ash off the end of hers. "Oh, come on."

Liza shrugged, pretending to be indifferent. "I'm just saying. I wasn't expecting a home-cooked meal when I walked in. Certainly not one made by you and the most moody vampire to ever exist."

Ollie rolled her eyes, having another pull from her cigarette. "It was a fluke. The fridge was stocked, I was hungry, and he was bored enough to meddle."

Liza smiled slowly as she looked at her, shifting her weight onto one foot. "And now he's looking at you like you're his new favorite toy."

Ollie choked on her next inhale, coughing, as she shot Liza an incredulous look. "Excuse me?"

Liza arched a brow, amused. "You heard me."

Ollie scoffed, shaking her head. "Klaus flirts with everyone. That man would bat his eyelashes at a lamppost if it stood its ground long enough."

Liza hummed in thought, rolling her cigarette between her middle and index fingers. "Yeah, maybe. But you don't usually flirt back."

Ollie groaned, tipping her head back as if asking the universe for patience. "It's not flirting. It's banter."

"Sure."

"It is," Ollie insisted. "You know, the thing where two people with sharp tongues engage in a battle of wits."

Liza took another drag, giving her a knowing side-eye. "That's literally the foundation of every enemies-to-lovers trope."

Ollie let out an exasperated laugh. "And we're not enemies, so that logic is already flawed."

Liza smirked. "Oh, so you're just skipping straight to lovers?"

Ollie nearly dropped her cigarette. "I will strangle you."

Liza chuckled, more easily, satisfied. "I'm just saying, you didn't have to cook with him. And yet, there you were, playing house."

Ollie pointed at her with the hand holding her cigarette. "You're one to talk. Elijah practically rolled out a red carpet for you after work."

Liza's smile wavered, her next inhale a little too deep. It made her eyes sightly water. "That's… that's different."

Ollie exhaled smoke in a slow, knowing breath. "Is it?"

Liza hesitated just a fraction too long before muttering, "We're going back inside."

Ollie grinned. She remained rooted to her spot, set on taking her sweet time finishing her cigarette. "Mmmhm. That's what I thought."

As they lingered in the courtyard, finishing their cigarettes, the cool night air did little to ease the seriousness of their real predicament. The three vampires waiting inside for them. The knowledge that one of their progenies was going to be involved. Was Marcel to be trusted? Or was that to be seen? The Mikaelsons' explanation of their actual relationship with the man was wishy-washy. Vampire loyalties just seemed so fickle. They weren't like werewolves at all. They didn't have the bonds of packs or witch covens.

Ramses finished his business and now sat near the door, ears twitching at every distant sound.

Liza tapped her cigarette against the stone railing, watching embers fall before grinding them out with her boot. "So, what was it like?" she asked after a beat, glancing sideways at Ollie. "Cooking with Klaus."

Ollie smirked, exhaling one last curl of smoke. "Surprisingly tolerable. He actually helped instead of just standing around being obnoxious. Barely."

Liza chuckled. "So you do like him."

"I tolerate him," Ollie corrected, flicking her cigarette away. "He's still an ass."

Before Liza could press further, the faint chime of the doorbell echoed through the entryway. She frowned. "Are we expecting a guest?"

Ollie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I told my fan club where to find me."

They made their way inside, Ramses leading the way. They caught sight of Klaus strolling to the front door, wine in hand, ever the picture of nonchalance. Elijah was already there, his posture composed as he opened the door to reveal a sharply dressed courier standing on the stoop. The man held out an envelope, thick parchment with an ornate wax seal.

"For the Mikaelsons," the courier announced. He had some sort of uniform on with a red crest on his left front side.

Elijah accepted the letter with a curt nod, closing the door as he examined the seal. Klaus peered over his shoulder, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Ah," he mused. "It seems the Council has taken notice."

Rebekah appeared, her expression one of mild annoyance. "What now?"

Elijah broke the seal, unfolding the letter. "An invitation," he said, scanning the elegant, impeccable hand-written script. "A gathering tomorrow night. Formal." Then he read the letter aloud.

To the Esteemed Mikaelson Family,

It has come to our attention that you have recently taken residence within our city. As you are undoubtedly aware, Chicago is not without its traditions, nor its rulers. Those who enter our domain—whether by invitation or their own volition—are expected to present themselves accordingly.

Thus, we extend an invitation.

You are cordially requested to attend an evening gathering among our esteemed council members, where we may properly welcome you to our city. Consider this a formality, an opportunity to assure all parties involved that our mutual interests remain aligned.

Tomorrow evening, 9 o'clock.
Council Headquarters, The Blackstone, 636 S. Michigan Avenue.
Formal attire is required.

We expect your presence.

Valentin Dupré
The Vampire Council of Chicago

Elijah read over the letter once more to himself, the features of his face shadowed with caution. The message was clear—this was less an invitation and more a summons. A test. And as always, the Mikaelsons would be expected to play the game.

Rebekah made and egh sound. "Of course. They want to see us, see if we pose a threat."

Klaus' smirk didn't waver. "Then let's not disappoint."

They made their way back to the dining room. With the letter still in hand, Elijah surveyed the four of them, his gaze finally settling on Liza and Ollie. "You will accompany us," he said, a statement rather than a question.

Liza opened and closed her mouth. "I'm… not sure that's a good idea," she began.

"We know Marcel has been watching," Elijah reasoned. "Any attempt to conceal you now will only make him more curious." He gestured with the letter. "Accompany us, and it will appear less like we are hiding you."

Liza folded her arms, fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeves. "Right, because tossing me into a room full of vampires sounds like an excellent way to keep a low profile."

Klaus chuckled, draining the rest of his wine. "Oh, come now, love. You'll be in the best possible company. And besides, what's the worst that could happen?" His grin widened at the pointed look both Liza and Ollie shot him. "Fine, fine, poor phrasing."

Ollie leaned against her chair. "Let's not pretend this isn't risky. You all might be the scariest things in the room, but Liza? She's still figuring out what she can even do."

Rebekah, who had been skimming the letter over Elijah's shoulder, let out an unimpressed breath. "The council isn't stupid. If they're inviting us, they already suspect something is happening. It's not every day the three of us are in one city. The best thing we can do is control the narrative before they create one of their own." She glanced at Liza, assessing. "You'll need something appropriate to wear."

Liza did a double-take. "That's your concern right now?"

Rebekah pursed her lips. "Unless you'd like to walk into a room of century-old aristocrats looking like you just rolled out college, then yes."

Klaus smirked, watching Liza's expression shift between wariness and reluctant resignation. "Think of it as a debut, darling," he teased. "By the end of the night, they'll know exactly who you are."

Liza looked at Ollie as if searching for an escape route. Ollie, for once, had nothing. "This is happening, isn't it?" she muttered.

Ollie shrugged. "Looks that way." Then, with a smirk, she nudged her with her elbow. "At least there's a free dinner involved."

Elijah folded the invitation, tucking it into his jacket. "The council will want to gauge our intentions," he stated, his tone firm but diplomatic. "We walk a line between strength and humility. We mustn't appear too forceful, nor too conciliatory."

His gaze shifted to Liza and Ollie, a flicker of concern softening his expression. "We will protect you," he assured them, though his eyes seemed to linger on Liza again. "As long as you follow our lead, no harm will come to you."

Liza uncrossed her arms, clenching her hands at her sides. "Can I bring vervain? You know, just in case?"

Elijah nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "A wise precaution. But remember, our goal isn't to come across as hostile. The last thing we want is to ignite unnecessary tensions." He glanced at Klaus, a silent communication passing between them.

Klaus, in turn, smirked. "If someone does step out of line, I'll make certain that they know their place. But," he added, turning to Liza, "try to leave most of the vampire-slaying to us."

Ollie put her hand on her hip. "So let me get this straight," she said, voice edged with dry amusement. "We're all going to a party full of vampires who run this city, who will absolutely notice Liza. And me. And the plan is... what, exactly? Smile, nod, and hope no one gets too curious?"

Rebekah sighed, growing impatient. "The plan is to maintain control of the situation. We show up, we make an impression, and we don't give them a reason to question our presence–or hers." She nodded at Liza, as if sizing her up. "Which means you'll need to be composed."

Liza tilted her chin down, giving a laugh. "Right. Because I'm so great at composure."

Elijah took a step toward her, raising his hands to placate her–and perhaps to try to provide the same reassurance he gave her while they'd been in the Bentley. It did not go unnoticed by Klaus, Rebekah, and Ollie. "Liza," he addressed her, his tone even and confident, "we'll be together. If anyone tries anything, they'll have to go through all of us first."

Liza hesitated, staring at him. The weight of the invitation–the implications of stepping deeper into this world–pulled on her like an anchor. She could not run. She wasn't sure she was ready, but at this point, it didn't seem like she had much of a choice.

"Alright," she finally said. "But I swear, if this turns into a vampire murder-fest, I'm running right out the door and you're never seeing me or Ollie again."

Elijah's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Understood," he replied, the sincerity in his voice leaving little room for doubt. He turned to his siblings, the silent command to ensure everyone's safety evident. "Klaus, I trust you'll keep a level head?"

Klaus waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, brother. I'm the picture of decorum," he quipped, though there was a gleam in his eye that suggested otherwise.

Rebekah scoffed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I'll believe that when I see it."

Ollie exhaled, running a hand through her hair before glancing at Liza. "Guess we're really doing this, huh?"

Liza gave her a look, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "Apparently."

Klaus chuckled, falling into his chair. "Oh, don't sound so dismal, love. It's just a gathering. Fine wine, exquisite company–" he flashed a suggestive smirk at Ollie, who rolled her eyes, "–and the chance to rub elbows with Chicago's most self-important bloodsuckers. What could possibly go wrong?"

Rebekah inspected her nails briefly. "You mean besides everything?"

Elijah, ever composed, straightened, bringing the conversation back to focus. "Then we are in agreement. We attend, we observe, and above all, we control the narrative. No unnecessary risks, no impulsive actions." His gaze went pointedly to Klaus.

Klaus merely smirked. "You wound me, brother."

Rebekah sighed, crossing her arms. "Well, we'd better find something suitable for you two to wear," she repeated. "If we're going to make an impression, we might as well do it properly."

Liza groaned. "A vampire gala and a makeover."

Klaus grinned. "See? Now that is the spirit."

The room shifted into motion, the Mikaelsons slipping seamlessly into action as though this were just another evening, another strategic move on an endless chessboard. Klaus, predictably, vanished without a word–though not before tossing a suggestive wink in Ollie's direction. She sighed, shaking her head, but Liza caught the tiny smirk that betrayed her. Rebekah had already started making calls, her voice crisp as she secured last-minute appointments with tailors and stylists. Elijah, forever the tactician, disappeared into his study, likely drafting a strategy that accounted for every possible outcome.

And Liza? She stood in the eye of it all, feeling the weight of each passing hour anchoring her deeper into this world. Every conversation, every agreement, every sidelong glance from Elijah that silently urged her to trust in something bigger than herself, in him–it was all a slow, inexorable tethering. She had stepped into their orbit, and the pull was growing stronger.

Ollie nudged her, dragging her from her thoughts. "C'mon, let's at least pretend we're excited. Fake it till we make it, right?"

Ramses let out a low huff, pressing himself against Ollie's legs, his tail thumping against the floor like he had already chosen a side.

Liza scoffed. "Traitor."

Ollie scratched behind his ears. "Can't help that I'm the favorite." Then, more quietly, like she was still convincing herself, she added, "Besides, it's just one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

Liza let out a breath, but the answer lingered at the edge of her mind, cold and certain.

Everything.