The Investigation | Mikael

Chapter Seven

 I spent the rest of the day indoors, hoping Marcel wouldn't call me or send anyone to check up on me, or even worse, show up himself. If he asked me about Mikael, would he know if I were lying to him? I had a feeling he might, which is why I was concerned about where that conversation would go. 

 It didn't occur to me until after Mikael left that I had nothing to do all day. Thanks to whatever Marcel had done, I apparently was not going to have any other business until I caught Mikael for him. That alone showed the influence and power he had in the French Quarter, and it made me wonder how long I would actually have with Mikael. 

 I didn't even know why I was going along with what Mikael wanted me to do. Yes, I was interested in hearing whatever story he was going to tell me. I wanted to hear everything he had to say before I turned him over to Marcel. But even then, would Marcel still be able to get to him? 

 What really astounded me where Mikael was concerned was the fact that he had been able to evade Marcel for so long when the rest of the Mikaelsons had not been able to. Once Marcel became unstoppable, it was easy for him to take down the rest of the Mikaelsons. But what about Mikael? How did he get away? How had he done it, and how was he able to keep doing it? That was what I really wanted to know. 

 Since it seemed I wouldn't be having any other clients that day, I didn't have much else to do besides think all of this over. I realized I should have asked Mikael to stay longer, to have our conversation during the day. 

 I couldn't have been more relieved when the sun finally went down. 

~~~~~~ 

 Mikael was sitting on the steps of the courtyard, in plain sight. 

 "It's about time," he said sharply when I entered. "I've been waiting all day for you." 

 "I had to wait until it was definitely dark," I replied. "Wouldn't you prefer no one know about this?" 

 He took a moment to take that in. "Well, I would prefer you not get us caught. Since you're finally here, come with me." 

 I followed him to a parlor that was now destroyed. Someone had knocked over furniture and smashed things. 

 "Here we are." Mikael stood the sofa upright. "We'll sit here." He sat down. "Where should I begin?" 

 I shrugged. "The beginning, I suppose. Your beginning." 

 "My beginning," he repeated to himself. "I was in born in Norway over a thousand years ago. I grew up in what is today called a Viking village. I grew up learning to fight, to be a warrior. I never learned to be anything else."

 "I see." I sat down next to him on the sofa and began to take notes. "And how do you think that has affected you?" 

 "I know how to fight, how to face an enemy. Back then, I suppose it defined who I was." 

 "I see. What about who you are now?" I asked. 

 His face hardened. "I don't know who I am now. I may as well be a shadow myself, with all the time I spend hiding in the shadows now." 

 I lowered my notebook. "You know, you don't have to stay in New Orleans. If there's nothing left here for you, why don't you leave?" 

 "So, you're assuming there's nothing left for me here?" he snapped. "You didn't think there must be something if I've stayed this long? I hate this city! I wouldn't stay if I didn't have to!" 

 I was a little surprised by the outburst, but knew it was best to stay calm myself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed." 

 My apology seemed to calm him. "Oh, never mind." 

 "Well, do you mind if I ask what's-" 

 "No, you may not ask," he interrupted. "I don't trust you with that information at all." 

 I sighed. "Well, I know now how you grew up. Why don't we go into your adult life? What happened?" 

 "Obviously, I went and fell in love," Mikael answered as if it were the most obvious thing. "I-" He paused. "Someone's coming." He grabbed me by the arm. "Run." 

 He pulled me though hallways and out a back door, and I wound up running with him through the streets.