A Siren's Call

Welcome to New Orleans

Ember - Florida, USA

The pain in my chest tightened, with every passing step towards the orange-coated McLaren speed car. I didn't want to step inside that shadowed driver seat and disappear from the place that I called home my entire life, the Freshwater Springs encompassed a beautifully clear lagoon stretching as far as the ocean. My delicate blue eyes closed trying to block out the desperate wails I could hear even if it were miles a way, they wanted me to stay but I knew the safest way was for me to leave.

Hissing subtly as a warning to stop, I pulled the door and jumped inside peering against the leather steering wheel. A few breaths to calm myself gave me some time to think about the entirety of the situation.

It was all because of him, that one stupidly arrogant little vampire.

The entirety of my species was on the extinction verge anyway, thanks to the existence of those rabid degenerates otherwise known as humans.

Now the remnants of my tribe and my family were forced to go into hiding, to avoid getting hunted down by a bunch of vampires.

Fucking shitheads.

I am tired of acting all inferior to the damn supernaturals.

The irking thoughts had made me angrily press the brakes into motion, at this point in time I wasn't exactly where my destination was. The only good part about the trip, was the feeling of the wind rustling through the brown tresses of my hair. In truth there was no way of knowing when I would come back, after all my new focus was to find a better place for the sirens to inhabit.

I found myself not even bothering to check the passing view of the road I was driving on, as long as the first chance I got would be to find a perfect location for me and the remnants of the tribe to live in.

A shrill-sounding phone call startled the living hell out of me, making me slightly swerve the speed car to the left. My teeth gritted in annoyance but even more so at realising just which conniving weasel decided to distract me, from my own thoughts.

"This is the 5000th fucking time, what do you want Devereux?!" I snapped harshly.

"Listen, I know you want nothing to do with me or any of the witches but I may or may not have some information that could interest you." Her unwavering tone made me snort humourlessly, as if there was anything I'd need from the covens.

"Oh, and what would that be?" I replied with a dangerously low voice, my dead-set blue gaze fixed on the horizon, speeding past the car's limits. "Marcel Gerard. Do you know the guy? He's been ruling New Orleans for decades now, and I heard that the werewolves weren't the only supernatural force he's been trying to control."

"I see." Pure anger whizzed through my pale-skinned body, at the name drop. I had to stiffen my muscles so once against the car wouldn't spin out of control from my grip. His very existence is the reason we had to cower in fear for as long as we did.

"So what is it that you need my help with?" I asked sharply, acutely aware of the split roads with which one of them directed one towards New Orleans. There were all too many reasons, why even the very image of that vampire asshole made my blood boil. Behind my masked but pinched angularly pale-skinned face lay vague memories of the bayou which had once been our true home.

"We need you to help us... take down Marcel." The witch answered after a long pause. "Think of it like this, the witches want him gone, the Mikaelsons want to dethrone him and take back New Orleans, you have every viable way of exacting your revenge against him."

I didn't really know what to say at first, feeling my legs twitch beneath the loose white material of my trousers. "Wait. Did you just mention the Mikaelsons? I thought they camped out all the way in Mystic Falls. You're trying to tell me, that those psychos have suddenly moved to New Orleans?"