Hurricane / The Originals

Chapter 8

"My siblings and I are the first vampires in all of history, the Originals. Unlike them, I am a hybrid—half vampire, half werewolf. Three hundred years ago, we helped build New Orleans. Now we've returned, drawn back by a coven of witches who've threatened the woman carrying my child."

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains as my phone rang, Rebekah's name flashing on the screen. With a mix of curiosity and concern, I answered, hearing her voice come through with a hint of tension.

"Cleo," she began, her tone conflicted, "I've made up my mind. I'm leaving. I want nothing to do with this family and city anymore."

Her words struck me with a surprising force "Rebekah, what happened?" I asked

There was a pause on the other end, a moment where I could almost hear her weighing her words. "It's complicated," she finally sighed. "I just can't keep doing this, Cleo. The constant cycle of betrayal and redemption, it's exhausting."

I could hear the weariness in her voice, a weariness born not just from centuries of life but from the emotional toll of being part of a family where loyalty and betrayal often blurred.

"But Rebekah," I pressed gently, "where will you go? What will you do?"

Another pause, and then Rebekah spoke, her voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I don't know yet. Maybe find a place where I can finally have peace. Away from Klaus's schemes and Elijah's burdens."

" Alright you know where to find me"

"Of course good luck love" And with that the call ended.

With a strange mix of emotions, I felt as though Marcel had caused the only vampire I truly liked to leave. I had learned a bit about their weird and loving past, but recently, Rebekah had mentioned how he had become a problem in her life again.

The urgency in Rebekah's voice on the phone concerned me deeply. Answers were not something I expected from Marcel and I know that she can handle herself, but the haste in her departure pushed me to action. I left my apartment in my running gear—spandex shorts, a long-sleeve scoop neck gym top—ready for a jog, but now headed towards Marcel's place in the French Quarter.

The M logo emblazoned on the walls marked his territory. As I approached and opened the metal gate, a shiver ran down my spine. I could handle Marcel and perhaps one or two of his men. They had never shown a desire to kill me outright, but as the gate swung open, I was faced with a sight that made my skin prickle—over a hundred vampires, all staring at me with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion.

Marcel reached out and gently took my hands, his touch surprisingly warm amidst the cool tension of the crowd. Without a word, he guided me through the throng of vampires, navigating effortlessly until we reached a secluded balcony overlooking the courtyard.

"Give me a second and then I will be all ears"

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fight Night! And, the first rule of Fight Night is: the vampire left standing at the end of the night is one step closer to the inner circle, and one of these--[He holds up the hand on which he wears his ring]-- a daylight ring. If you can impress me with a little ultra-violence, you too can enjoy the warmth of the sun on your face. All you gotta do is kick a little ass. Here we go!" I was a little taken back and cursed myself for putting me in this position again.

The noise from the fight night below faded into a distant murmur as Marcel leaned against the balcony railing, still holding my hands. His gaze was steady, his expression a mix of concern and something I couldn't quite place. For a moment, we stood in silence, the only sound was the faint breeze and the fight.

I chose to ignore the fight. I need to turn to more self in order to have a conversation.

To my surprise, though, I am interrupted as Marcel both turns to see Klaus and Elijah in the courtyard. There is a sense of relief seeing them. Matter of seconds, though Klaus speaks to the woman fighting, snaps her neck. I don't even flinch, which doesn't go unnoticed by Marcel.

"Good evening! I'd like a word." Klaus says as both Elijah and him look up at the balcony and see me and Marcel. Confusion is evident on both of their faces.

" What do you think you're doing?" Marcel says

Elijah's voice carried a steely edge as he addressed Marcel, "It appears that we've interrupted a collection of filthy amateurs! We've come here for the girl. Give her to us, or we kill everyone here... starting with you."

The look of confusion appears on my face.

Marcel's expression hardened, his posture tense but defiant. The vampires in the courtyard shifted uncomfortably, sensing the escalating tension between the Mikaelsons and Marcel's faction.

Klaus's gaze swept up to the balcony where Marcel and I stood, confusion mingling with suspicion on his face. "Explain yourself, Marcel. What's going on here?"

Marcel met Klaus's gaze squarely. "She's not here, Klaus. Hayley's not my concern anymore."

Elijah stepped forward, his tone firm and commanding. "Where is she, Marcel? We don't have time for games."

Marcel hesitated for a moment, then spoke with resolve. "I've already told you, she's not here. If you want to search, be my guest, but you won't find her."

Klaus's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "If this is a trick, Marcel..."

"It's not," Marcel interrupted, his voice firm. "I have no reason to deceive you."

The standoff in the courtyard was tense, but my thoughts were consumed by Hayley's safety. Ignoring the brewing conflict, I descended the stairs with purpose, heading straight towards Klaus and Elijah. Their bewildered expressions mirrored the urgency in my voice.

"Your baby mama is missing and you want to get into a fight?" I blurted out, my concern overriding any sense of decorum. "She's not here," I added firmly, my eyes scanning the courtyard for any sign of Hayley one last time. "Ive been here for a little bit I promise she's not here" I say now making direct eye contact with Klaus. He's eyes are filled with worry.

I look at Elijah next and in an instant he nods his head a sign of trust and belief evident. With that small jester I began to walk past them.

Klaus and Elijah exchanged a glance, momentarily taken aback by my directness. Elijah, ever so composed, spoke up first, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "Where are you going?"

I shook my head, a faint smile touching my lips despite the gravity of the situation. "I call shotgun," I replied, waving off their lingering questions. Without waiting for their response, I pivoted and started walking away, trusting them to follow.

Elijah's brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't argue. Instead, he exchanged a wordless look with Klaus before falling into step beside me. Klaus trailed a step behind, his demeanor not faltering still bothered by Marcel.