JEZEBEL † The Originals †

7. Fate In The Deck

MARCEL

"I suppose since you've proved your worth you'd like a bigger reward," Tristan says.
I'm quiet, listening as he walks around one of my venues. He likes the tall ceilings, the rugged look of cement missing in all the right places, the amount of space he has to do his dirty work and hide at the same time.
If I can't do what he asks me to do this time, it'll just be another object I lose to his advantages.
"This one might be a little messy, seeing as no one really foresees the outcome of it, but I need you to do it because I believe you can. I want Jezebel Zaragoza's vessel. Specifically, I want you to put her back on it," he enunciates.
Setting me up for failure, it seemed like. He wants me to put a grown woman—who did me a gigantic favor and carries a power I don't have—back inside of a prison cell.
"Seems like a lot of steps, especially since the Mikaelsons are in talks with her. If it isn't murky enough, it's not gonna help anybody when talks turn into handshakes. Besides, I thought the point was to release her. You were gonna trap them on the vessel, instead, for protection," I say doubtfully.
He pats the Prohibition-era bar counter, its art deco grooves a little dusty but still sharper than knife.
"Well, plans can change," Tristan states. "The vessel is well-known and everyone knows what kind of cargo it holds. Putting the Mikaelsons on it? Just as deadly to us as it would be an Amiki sister. All it takes is a pair of strong hands to destroy it and we all fall down. Not to mention the scenario where, let's say, the Mikaelsons are wanted alive and for use. There is a hoard of unwelcomed guests coming, Marcellus. None of which come in peace. And surely, this town and the people in it will be obliterated if Jezebel is not ready for surrender. So, trap her and save your family: us. Those unwelcomed guests want to beat you to it. I'd hurry."
Thinking it a way of sending me off, I turn my back on him, ready to get this dicey chore out of the way.
"And if the Mikaelsons should display a distaste towards our custody of the girl..." Tristan begins. "Change their mind. One way or another."

KLAUS

I couldn't get her to say a word to any of my remarks or her plans to hurt Aurora. That's something I have not considered: am I going to sanction a battle to ensue when we find her?
Jezebel takes notice of how I examine the mystical injury on the side of her face.
"Don't worry about it," she finally says. "She's trying to get my attention."
There are lots of questions zipping about in my mind like a swarm of carpenter bees, but I refrain from distracting this already reckless driver.
"On the contrary, love, the less people involved in this prophecy, the better," I state.
She cautions, "You wouldn't be quick to speak on it if you knew how much power I have over the matter."
"Well, then pray tell. Why should I root for you?"
"I am a part of the coven that made you, Niklaus. It wasn't your mother, it wasn't some witch in your viking village—that's all a lie and I have the proof. And everything up to that point had to come from somewhere. How else are the supernatural any different than humans? We all think there is something bigger that made us. And that's completely true, but they're fucking crazy."
"Let me guess. We're going to be dealing with the 'ring-around-the-rosy' theory if we don't listen to you?" I comment. "In a word, once you're ashes, we all fall down."
She comes to a stop at a red light on the road, turning her head away from me. "If you want to be delicate about it, sure."

Once we've reached our destination, she puts the engine of her emerald Bronco to sleep at our destination. It's the last place we've thought to look: Marcel's reclaimed cathedral. We're in luck for the reason that I can smell her from outside.
"I will decide when violence is to result. Consider it an example of the grip you claim I don't have. You must let me talk to her," I tell her.
Jezebel comments, "It's not your decision. She's already set a pretty hostile mood."
I remove myself from the vehicle, following her closely, until she turns to me at the entrance.
"Try to limit yourself to hair-pulling," I order as she gets out of the car.
She slams the door, looking at me through the open window.
"I don't think you would want that; the situation in which that comes in handy is much different when I'm around women," she replies.
She evokes a sheepish smile out of me, sticking her hand into her side of the car and pressing the four-door lock as though I'm a child waiting in the backseat.
I wait a moment before I undo her action, to meddle outside the front entrance.
"There you are," inside, Aurora grimaces, "Oh! How unsightly. I suppose that nasty scar is my fault, I might have toyed with your vessel a little too much."
Jezebel direly commands, "Just set it down, and we can forget about it; you've got my attention."
"You have to act so in charge. It reminds me of him...Nik. In every little syllable. Maybe that's why I—"
Jezebel interposes, "This isn't about him."
"Then, why tell me to stay away from him?" Aurora's excitement stirs. "Come on, it's obvious! You are jealous of us!"
I hear Jezebel move toward her despite that devastating wildness in Aurora's voice. I find myself letting go of the golden handles of the chapel doors, listening closely.
"Is that the only claim you have against me?" Jezebel scoffs. "You know, I'm a lot more fun when I want to be. And I'm not one to turn down a redhead."
Cracking glass echoes in my ears and Jezebel groans frustratedly.
"That was a tawdry shot, even for you," Aurora sighs, "You're desperate. That means you'll do just about anything for this thing! So, we're going to play a little game. One I think even you would enjoy. And then, we'll see who's leaving New Orleans."
A quick snap of plastic and breaking pottery sounds. The furious flush of noise makes me quickly strut into the threshold. What I thought was a party of two was a party of ten, including eight very familiar faces that accorded to my sister's sireline. All heads turn at the sound of my shoes hitting tile floors.
I announce myself, "Stop this charade."
Aurora's red hair gleams in the moonlight as she walks closer to me in surprise.
"This is not a charade, Nik. This is an intervention. You're in danger of losing the love of your life: Me. We're finally together after so long apart, all the world before us if we can just dodge a few minor obstacles like this nuisance of a prophecy, my brother's internment, the insufferable influence of Elijah... But what I cannot overcome is what Jezebel will try and convince you of. She means to make me the monster, but you don't know her like I do! I've waited far too long to share you now. Call me jealous," Aurora exclaims.
"I remember full well the extent of your jealousies, but what surprises me is that they extend to the rival witch. She's a weapon of ours. Aurora, you can't believe she means anything to me," I tell her.
Aurora interposes, "But I do believe it! I see it, the way you look at her. I think you love her."
I have to stop myself from looking at Jezebel while she is expecting me to escape the neutral zone of the battlefield sooner or later.
I step toward Aurora, "You know I love you, Aurora."
Aurora smiles, her cheeks reddening at my confession. Jezebel jolts to her feet when Aurora looks down at the vessel in her hands.
"I'm so glad you admitted that. I wanted Jezebel to hear it before I destroyed this," Aurora mutters happily.
"Hijole," Jezebel mumbles below her breath, looking at the ceiling, "I'll play the game. Whatever it is, it's between the two of us. I lose, you can do whatever you want. You lose, at least, you'll have legs to walk yourself out of my way."
Aurora brightens in merit, hands clasping together cheerfully.
"Now, that's the spirit!" A dangerous note in her voice rides the chapel gym's echo.