Rue | Klaus Mikaelson

Chapter 13

Ibeth felt extremely nervous.

It wasn't as if she'd never attended a formal event. It wasn't as if this was her first date with Klaus.

Somehow, it felt different. Somehow, it meant more. Be it because she was watching him emerge from his shell to show the world his art or because ever since his apology she looked at him more fondly than ever, it suddenly brought her great anxiety to think of attending the event at his side.

The King of New Orleans, appearing before his subjects to show off his life's work. And hanging onto his arm would be his Queen, who up until then hadn't exactly been making public appearances at his side in this manner. It was always the other way around. She, the Queen of the Wolves aiding her people while her King consort trailed behind her.

She had no idea what to wear. What to do. What to think.

Ibeth attempted to plan out her outfit the day before to lessen the stress on the actual day of the art show. She was unsuccessful in narrowing down which dress she wanted to wear. She made every excuse to herself to avoid thinking about it, figuring an idea would come in time. She rearranged her room (did it matter at all whether she did it? Already she was considering moving her things into Klaus's bedroom. It was pathetic.) and went grocery shopping instead of forcing herself to lay out her clothes in order to keep future-Ibeth from panicking an hour before the exhibit.

And then, of course, she made the brilliant decision to have the wolves finish moving in that evening, landing herself with the duty of carrying boxes around instead of performing the quite simple task of looking at her few dresses and picking a single one. It did nothing to help her situation.

A happy (though highly unhelpful) distraction from Vincent kept her from being able to plan on the day of the exhibit, too. Klaus left early to set everything up at the venue. She should have been getting ready hours prior. Instead, she went to meet Vincent and Cami.

"Okay," said Vincent, walking them toward an alley surrounded by police cars and yellow tape, "the thing you gotta understand is me and all the P.D. have a relationship that goes back to that nastiness with my ex-wife. I'm their expert in anything that even seems occult. And every so often, they come across the aftermath of some black magic and they call me in."

A man in a black leather jacket met them where the tape began. "Is this your friend the shrink?" he asked Vincent.

Vincent nodded, gesturing to Cami. "And this is Ibeth. Also familiar with the occult."

"Fantastic," said the man, holding out his hand to them. "Will Kinney. Detective— homicide."

"Cami O'Connell," said the blonde, greeting him first. "Bartender, part-time shrink... why am I here?"

Will frowned worriedly. "Vince, show her the body. See if she can do what you said she can do."

Ibeth raised a brow as they approached the crime scene. "Um, body? Does she get a trigger warning of any kind—?"

"I'll be okay," said Cami, though she didn't sound sure. "How can I help?"

"So," said Vincent, "the cops want a psychological profile, and, given what we've found, I'd say this is your area of expertise."

Past a dumpster, they found the corpse. Ibeth cringed at the sight of a man in an expensive suit, wrists and elbows suspended by ropes as if he were some sort of puppet. His mouth had been slashed from ear-to-ear, and blood dripped down from his face to the front of his shirt.

"This is some Criminal Minds kind of shit," said Ibeth. "I'm not sure why I'm here."

"You're the Alpha of a powerful pack of wolves," said Vincent. "You can track anyone within the city. Depending on what Cami deduces from this... you may be our only shot at catching this guy."