Chapter 15

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Training was awful.

Ingrid didn't realize how out-of-shape she was. That should have been expected, given she slept for a century, and hadn't done a single push-up since... ever.

"Holy crap," she said, bending over and putting her hands on her knees. "Can't... breathe..."

"Come on," said Marcel, trying not to laugh. "You barely did a lap around this place and it's not that big."

She glared at him. "Not all of us have heightened stamina. Some of us are weak."

"Vincent's whooping your ass, look at him." He gestured to Vincent, who was on his fifth warm-up lap.

"Vincent isn't a thousand-year-old witch."

"Don't play the old lady card, you're physically as young as us."

"Shut up—" she waved him off, still panting. "Oh my god, how long is it going to take for me to not feel like this?"

"Maybe a week or two if you come every day."

She swore loudly in Danish. "Hey," said Marcel, "don't be shouting spells."

"That wasn't a spell!"

"Good, I don't want things blowing up in my face."

"Oh, shut up, your face will heal if damaged."

"It's still an award-winning face, I don't want any scratches on it."

"I'll make it my goal to cut your lip even temporarily."

"Vincent," Marcel said loudly. "She's getting violent."

"He can't save you," whispered Ingrid, forcing herself to get back to another lap. "Let's not forget what happened the first time we met."

Marcel pursed his lips, not forgetting how she'd had him on his knees in seconds.

Between the therapy three times a week and training every day, Ingrid found she was feeling better. She'd go on runs in the mornings with Irene in the stroller, jogging lightly and pushing the stroller along while Irene sat inside, glad to be seeing the outside world.

She spoke to Cami often, mostly whenever she dropped by Rousseau's for some food or when Cami came by to bring new toys for Irene, who was going to turn out a spoiled brat if they didn't stop showering her with gifts. Though Cami hadn't let her know anything explicitly about her identity, Ingrid still enjoyed getting to speak to her. To hear her laugh at her jokes. At the very least, they were becoming friends.

"Hello little lady," said Ingrid to Hope when the first full moon since Dahlia's death arrived, and they were going to see Hayley. "Come on. We're taking you to see your mama today."

She was nervous about seeing Hayley. While she'd been comfortable in the Compound, recovering from her trauma, Hayley was suffering who-knows-where out in the Bayou. Though she'd given Freya the spell, it didn't seem like she or Rebekah had made any progress yet, which was a bad sign— they likely needed to channel Ingrid directly at the very least, because the spell was bound with her, and even a temporary death had sealed it to make her the only one who could break it. Unless she got her magic back in the next month, Hayley would still not be free.

Elijah drove Ingrid, Freya, Rebekah, and Hope out to the Bayou while Kol stayed with Klaus. They arrived at the old shack by the docks of the lake, waiting patiently until naked people started to appear. Out of instinct, Ingrid covered Hope's eyes.

Hayley emerged from behind a bush, and Elijah quickly removed his jacket, draping it over her shoulders so that she would be covered up. She hugged him, then immediately went to Hope. "Hi baby girl," she whispered, kissing her cheek. "I missed you."

The Beautiful and the Faultless | Cami O'ConnellWhere stories live. Discover now