Hurricane / The Originals

Chapter 4

"Holy fuck, I need more vervain," I muttered to myself as I exit work early, the urgency clear in my voice. It had been a ritual since I was young—morning and night, a cup of tea infused with vervain, a protective measure against compulsion and other supernatural influences.

After today's unsettling encounter with Klaus and Marcel, the need for vervain felt more urgent than ever. The memory of Klaus's compelling gaze lingered in my mind, a reminder of the vulnerability I faced in the presence of vampires and their abilities.

As I hurried towards the shop, anxiety gnawed at me. Katie, the shopkeeper, was just locking up when I reached her, breathless with urgency.

"Hey, Katie, I'm so sorry to bug you, but it's an emergency," I began urgently, my voice tinged with desperation.

Before I could finish, another voice cut through the tension. " Hey hey I just need one teeny, tiny little herb. Please?" The voice sounded out of breath, as if its owner had rushed to get here, just like me. I turned to see a young woman, around my age, with dark hair and intense eyes that mirrored my own concern.

As Katie reopened the shop door and prepared to serve us, I stood beside the young woman whose request for crushed aconite flower had caught my attention.

"Wolfsbane? That's a poison. You're gonna kill a wolf?" I whispered incredulously, unable to hide my surprise.

The woman placed a hand on her belly, and my eyes widened with realization. "Just a little one," she replied softly, her tone carrying a mix of determination and vulnerability that struck a chord within me.

"Give me a minute," Katie intervened, her voice steady yet tinged with concern. She hurried to the back of the shop, her purpose clear as she prepared the mixture, her expertise evident in every precise movement.

I watched silently as Katie cut the aconite with jimson weed, her actions a delicate balance of compassion and pragmatism. This was New Orleans—a place where the boundaries between the mundane and the supernatural blurred, where acts of mercy could also be acts of survival.

Hayley, as she introduced herself, handed Katie some money, a gesture of gratitude that Katie refused with a quiet insistence. "It's an ugly town for wolves. You're doing the right thing," Katie murmured, her words resonating with a solemn understanding of the harsh realities we faced.

As Katie handed me my usual supply of vervain, I nodded gratefully, acknowledging the unspoken bond between us forged by our shared reliance on protective herbs. Turning to her, I offered a sincere smile. "Are you okay, are you safe?" I asked softly, my concern genuine

"I'm okay, but with this," Hayley pointed to her stomach, "I'm not safe." Her voice carried a mixture of determination and vulnerability that struck a chord within me. I nodded in understanding, respecting her reluctance to delve into details.

We walked together in silence until we found a bench where we both instinctively sat down. The air around us seemed charged with unspoken stories and shared uncertainties.

"I'm Cleo," I offered softly, breaking the silence as I sighed lightly.

"I'm Hayley," she replied with a nod, her eyes reflecting a mixture of weariness and resolve.

The simplicity of our introductions belied the complexities we both carried—the weight of secrets, fears, and the relentless pulse of life in a city teeming with supernatural dangers.

"Would you like me to leave" I ask wanting to be there for support if needed but if not welcomed I would simply walk away.

"Please stay" Is all she says as she looks down at the medicine that would cure all of her problems.