Stone Cold

Always and Forever

Chapter Forty-Nine

*~*~*~*

"Cami..." The blonde's head snapped up from where she'd been drying glasses at the sound of her name. Her manager only nodding towards the door as another customer made his way inside and headed straight to any empty seat at the bar.

"What can I get you to drink?" Cami offered the suited man a smile as she moved to stand across the bar from him. Completely oblivious to the fact that it was the one and only Elijah Mikaelson that sat before her.

"A martini, please." Elijah requested, his manners earning him raised brows from the blonde. After all, it wasn't often that someone with actual manners stumbled into the bar.

"So what brings you to the big easy?" Cami wondered as she went to work pouring him his drink.

"I used to live here," Elijah offered.

"Really? When?" She pried, not recognizing the man before her herself.

"Oh, feels like a hundred years ago," he tried to wave it off.

"I just moved back here myself," she admitted. "What brought you back?"

"Well, my brother is here somewhere. I'm afraid he might have gotten himself into a bit of a bind." He toyed with the stem of his glass as he spoke, refusing to delve too much into the details of his predicament.

"You say that like it's a common occurrence," she noted.

"Well, he's complicated-- defiant, ill-mannered, and a little temperamental." A flurry of words came to mind at the thought of his younger brother, not many of them kind. "See, we don't share the same father. Of course, that never bothered me, but my brother resents it deeply, never felt like he belonged. All told, he has a long history of getting himself into trouble."

"And I'm guessing you have a long history of getting him out of it." She raised her brows at him, as if she could read him like a book. "What kind of bind is your brother in?"

"He believes there are people in this town that are conspiring against him," he shared.

"Wow, narcissistic and paranoid." She shook her head at the combination. "Sorry. Bartender with a grad degree in psychology, total cliche."

"Listen... Camille," his gaze dropped to the nametag pinned to her shirt. "I'm looking for someone who might shed some light on his current predicament. She works here-- Jane-Anne Deveraux. Any idea where I might find her?"

*~*~*~*

"Welcome to New Orleans and the crown jewel of the crescent city: the French Quarter-- jazz and jambalaya, romance and poetry, not to mention things that go bump in the night, monsters that feed off human blood, vengeful spirits of the dead, and, my personal favorite, the witches."

Elijah stood back as he watched the curly haired witch lead a tour through the streets of the French Quarter. Her words seeming to have captivated each member of the group as she slowed their pace in front of a particular storefront.

"Here we have the voodoo shop Jardin Gris. Go in. Browse for a hex." She ushered the group inside while she remained on the sidewalk. Only with the tourists out of sight and earshot did she let her smile drop. "Are you gonna continue following me, Elijah, or do you want to talk?"

"You know who I am." Elijah eyed the young witch before him, admittedly surprised that she'd been able to pick him out from those around them. That she knew his name.