Piece of You | Finn Mikaelson

Chapter 3

Marcel had visitors.

By the time she arrived, she found Elijah making his way out, followed by a young woman who must have been part of Marcel's group of vampires. Elaine wasn't sure what they were up to, and debated between tailing them and sticking around to see if Rebekah or Klaus showed up anytime soon.

It became clear very quickly that Rebekah wasn't there. When Marcel had gone outside with his vampires, a quick peek in his loft was all Elaine needed to know that the blonde Original hadn't set foot in there. There were no female clothes, no lipstick left behind, and judging by the indentations on the unmade bed, only one person had slept in it the previous night.

She left quickly, hoping to catch up to Elijah and his vampire companion. She found them in Algiers, walking through the street in plain daylight. Whatever they were up to, it wasn't a covert operation.

"So, you're not much of a talker, huh?" asked the vampire to Elijah as they walked, with Elaine about two blocks behind them, wearing sunglasses, and with her hair tied up with a scarf to conceal her face properly. She'd even propped up a parasol against her shoulder. "No problem. Last guy I hung out with, he wouldn't shut up, so... guess I'm due for a change—"

Elijah interrupted her, "The task is to lead me to someone. Let's just... do that, shall we?"

Clearly, Elijah hadn't changed his bossy nature in the last thousand years.

"You wanna walk in silence?" asked the woman. "Cool." She sighed in frustration. "But, you're going the wrong way."

Elaine stopped in her tracks, pretending to be looking at a vendor's cart while she waited for them to start going the right way. Then, she continued to follow.

"Marcel believes I can instruct you," said Elijah. "First lesson— do your best not to waste my time."

Just as condescending as ever, too.

She noticed a familiar face on the other side of the street, tagging along a bit closer to Elijah and Gia.

"You have got to be kidding me," she whispered to herself (in an American accent, for safety).

The man from the bar. The one who'd peeked into the Mikaelson home. He was now here, following them. That couldn't be a coincidence.

She propped herself up on the roof of the store that Elijah and his companion entered, noticing the other man remained outside, so as to not be spotted.

"Go away, I'm busy," came an older woman's voice within the shop.

"Yes," said Elijah, "blatantly practicing magic, I see."

"Herbal remedies for a neighbor who lost her insurance. But, my guess is an Original ain't here to talk neighborhood gossip."

"I have a favor to ask you."

"Quarter's crawling with witches, go ask one of them."

Elijah sighed impatiently. "I don't typically ask favors of my enemies."

"So, you come across the river to bother me?"

"It's unfortunate, isn't it? Bureaucracy has not been kind to your community. Those tax incentives on local businesses have been stalling for months. Of course, a persuasive person could potentially remove any red tape."

The woman changed her tone. "I'm listening."

"A certain someone— let's say a witch— has a troublesome tendency of jumping into other bodies. When she does so again, I would like to know into whom she jumps."