Hurricane / The Originals

Chapter 22

"The Italians call them strega. The Yoruba of West Africa call them aje, meaning mother. Where my mother was from, they called them häxa, and here we call them witch. Over the centuries, vampires have fought them and fought beside them, bedded them and burned them. Whether adversary or ally, they have been a force to be reckoned with. Their ancestral magic anchors this city. There's never been one all-powerful witch until Davina."- Elijah

I woke to the sound of chaos coming from the room next door. Heart pounding, I threw off the covers and scrambled out of bed, still clad in the white dress that now felt like a cruel joke. In hindsight, a t-shirt and jeans would have been much more practical, but there was no time to dwell on that.

I rushed to the door and flung it open. The scene before me was frantic: Davina was on her knees, retching up dirt as Marcel tried desperately to help her. His face was a mask of concern, his hands reaching out to support her.

Before I could move closer, I felt the unmistakable presence of two figures standing behind me. Their warmth was almost tangible. I didn't need to look to know who they were.

"What's with all the racket? Bloody hell," Klaus's voice cut through the chaos. His tone was a mix of irritation and curiosity.

I turned slightly to see Klaus and Elijah standing just behind me. Klaus's expression was one of bemused frustration, while Elijah's eyes were filled with a deep, concerned focus as he took in the scene before him.

Elijah stepped forward, his demeanor calm yet commanding. "Marcel, is everything alright? What happened?" It was interesting the way he put his hand infront of the door frame. Blocking me from entering. He was at my side now almost like a shield giving me the ability to look but not move.

Marcel glanced up, his face etched with worry. "It's Davina. She's been like this for the past few minutes. I don't know what's causing it."

Davina's coughing finally subsided, and she slumped against the floor, looking pale and exhausted. I felt a pang of sympathy for her and took a tentative step forward, trying to offer her some comfort.

Klaus, ever the one to mask his concern with sarcasm, muttered, "Well, this is just perfect. A morning symphony of dirt and distress."

But what I didn't notice was the way Klaus's gaze was fixed on my back—or more precisely, the birthmark peeking through the fabric of my dress. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight. With a swift, almost reflexive movement, Klaus turned to Elijah, searching for confirmation of what he had just seen. Elijah met Klaus's gaze with a solemn nod and mouthed the words, "I told you," in a way that spoke volumes.

Klaus's expression was a mix of surprise and confusion. His eyes flickered between the birthmark and Elijah, clearly questioning how Elijah had been aware of such an intimate detail.

Meanwhile, Rebekah, her face etched with concern, pushed past me and her brothers with determined urgency. She rushed into Davina's bedroom and sat down next to Davina, who was lying weakly on her bed.

With that, I followed the brothers out. Rebekah was taking good care of Davina, and at that moment, I felt like my presence would only be an added distraction. So, I trailed behind Klaus and Elijah as they headed back to the living room.

The second I stepped foot in the living room, it felt like I had walked into an all-out conference dedicated to unraveling the mystery of the young witch's predicament. The room was buzzing with urgency and focused discussion.

Klaus, pacing with a restless energy, was already deep in conversation with Elijah, who was examining a collection of old tomes and magical artifacts spread out on the table.