A Twist Through Time (A TVDU fic)

Chapter 33

After spending some time just having fun with Marcel and speed painting, Hope knew she had to collect herself and figure out what her next move was. She took a seat at the kitchen counter and thought about everything that had happened lately. What loose ends she could actually take care of. She had told Camille she was a witch, and that was a problem she needed to fix. And there was a possibility she would need to try to compel Marcel (but truthfully she wasn't sure she could bring herself to compel family). Someone did a linking spell to kill her, possibly just to activate her vampire side and possibly as an attempt on her life.

She let out a small sigh and looked out of the kitchen, at the wall where Marcel had hung her unsigned painting. The painting of a blonde and a dark haired girl that kind of reminded her of Lizzie and Josie. She wasn't sure who else she could have had in mind. It wasn't as though she knew a lot of people. However, with their faces hidden, it was impossible to tell.

One thing at a time, she thought to herself, and she got up before heading out of the Abattoir and going to the bar she knew Camille worked at. She headed inside, guilt already starting to sink inside as she knew what she was going to do. She walked over to the bar and took a seat. Marcel suggested compelling the bartender. Hope knew this wasn't what he had in mind, but at the moment it didn't matter. This needed to get done whether Camille was working or otherwise.

"Hey, Lizzie" Camille greeted, watching her, her body a little tense in a way that made Hope know she wasn't sure how to react. The two had been on good terms, but that was before Camille found out about witchcraft, and the blonde had come up with plenty of questions mixed with nervousness. "It's good to see you. Can we talk after my shift? About... What happened last time?"

"Yeah." Hope lied as she looked at her. "We can talk about whatever you'd like. Do you mind getting me a drink? Just something small"

Camille looked hesitant but finally poured her a glass of something not very strong. "Here" she said, setting it in front of her.

"Thanks" Hope said and took a small sip before setting her glass down and looking at it. She wasn't sure she wanted her first compulsion on the girl that would end up being compelled numerous times by her father and who her father would fall in love with one day. It didn't feel right. But Camille wasn't supposed to know about the supernatural yet. Hope didn't really have much of a choice but to compel her.

"Are you okay?" Camille asked as she looked at Hope in concern.

Hope nodded. "I'm fine. I've just got a lot of thoughts in my head, and not all of them are all warm and fuzzy"

"I get that. And I imagine they would be in a" Camille lowered her voice to a quiet whispers "magical world"

"The nonmagical world can be very dangerous to" she said. "It all depends on who is involved and what they are willing to do."

"You're right about that" Camille said. "Reminder, I have a psychology degree. I could be a good therapist if you need to talk about those thoughts in your head"

Hope downed her glass, forcing down the thoughts that had stirred up inside her. It was time to just get this over with. "My thoughts are usually better kept inside. But thank you" she told her. She hesitated before looking at the blonde in the eye. "You're going to forget ever meeting me. You're not going to remember that time in the alley when you found out that the supernatural is real. I was never in New Orleans."

And with that, Hope sped out of the building, leaving no trace that she had ever been there. That she had ever existed. One compulsion down. Another one to go if she could bring herself to do it. She wasn't sure that was something that she could do.

She walked along the streets of New Orleans, taking in the sights around her. The first memories she had of this place were from eight years in the future. Eight years made a difference. A lot of it was similar, sure, but it still felt different. Considerably less cellphones out, barely any screens inside the restaurants, more tourists. She wondered what Landon had thought of New Orleans when he had made a brief stop there 18 years from now to get help from Vincent. She had planned on asking him if she ever saw him again, but their reunion involving the danger of Malivore and the monsters and the secrets she had kept after that distracted her from getting around to asking. If she ever made it back, she should ask him since he had always wanted to go.