Abominations | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 3

Chapter 3
A Fatal Weakness

Virginia wasn't a State Andrea was all that keen on. Yet, she found herself forced to stay in the dreadful place.

She slipped out the door of her third bar, hesitantly calling the vampire, she had been avoiding for days.

"Hello?" Katherine finally answered.

"You want the location of the cure?" she offered.

A silence passed between the two before she received an answer. "You've found it?" she finally answered.

"I asked you a question, Katherine, answer it" Andrea demanded.

"Calm down, Andrea" she chuckled down the phone. Suddenly, the sound of cars moving around her began to pick up, blurring out her slow intakes of breath. "Where is it?"

"You're going to have to give me better than some Bennett witch who's incapable of resurrection" she demanded. "Let's just say, you made me a promise Katherine, that you didn't keep your end of."

"She can do it" Katherine persisted. "She's just being awkward."

"I can be more awkward" she snapped. "Give me another lead and I'll tell you the location, of the cure."

"There's another witch called Marien Dios she's known for ... unconventional magic I suppose, the only problem is she demands a high payment" she explained. "I'll send you the address."

Andrea sighed, staring down at the pavement, below her. "It's on an island, off the coast of Nova Scotia" she declared. "Bonnie said she's the only one who can open the tomb, however, I have quite a large doubt about that considering I've left her a rather bad burn on her wrist" she explained.

"You tried to kill her!?" Katherine exclaimed.

"If I was going to kill her, I'd kill her" she snapped back. "If anything, she's going to kill herself."

She heard her take a deep breath before finally replying "You have yourself a deal" she declared, hanging up on her.

Andrea wanted to scream as she slipped the phone back into her pocket. "Fucking vampires" she cursed.

~*~

Andrea was just happy to finally be out of Virginia.

However, as she walked down the track, lined with mud that had rolled off of the fields, she was starting to miss the all too perfect State. Small blossoms fell off the branches of a few trees, settling on the ground and flaking off on her jacket.

It was a beautiful sight to see.

Yet, as she rounded onto the farm, littered with herbs used for all kinds of spells and curses she knew she was in the right place. Only a witch would put wolfsbane next to jasmine.

She reached a small shack, the roof was made of hand-carved stones some of which were laying on the floor in pieces, the walls rigid made from stones that didn't belong. The door was damaged by violent weather, yet, a single string of jasmine, wolfsbane and vervain hung on the door. A sense of warning. A cautionary action.

She knocked on the door, her wrist catching on the hanging wreath. She hissed out in pain, staring down at the burn that had formed in a perfect circle around her wrist. Like a marking. A cautionary warning in a sense ...

A supernatural marking.

The door swung open and the woman who appeared to be in her 70s instantly grabbed her wrist staring down at the marking for a moment before snarling "A bloody hybrid."