Isadora's life was nothing but normal. No matter how much she tried, she would be forever haunted by the supernatural beings that lurked in Mystic Falls.
Torn by love, taunted by her choices and her troublesome past; Isadora must live her life as...
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My first ever plane ride was not as successful or amusing as I thought it would be. The first fifteen minutes into the flight, I threw up in a plastic bag given to me by a flight attendant who looked concerned. Then, an hour later it happened again.
After the dreadful flight, we finally arrived in New Orleans. We rented a black convertible so we could drive down to The French Quarter. I was nervous to see such a familiar place again. I was scared of running into one of The Originals. Klaus especially, we left on bad terms. I wanted to kill him but I knew I couldn't because he was a hybrid. According to Stefan, Klaus was both a vampire and werewolf now.
"Here we are, The French Quarter," Stefan announced as he shut the engine of the car. We were parked on the side of the road. Before we left Mystic Falls, I carried an abundant amount of vervain in case I ran into some familiar faces.
I rubbed the sweat off my hands on the ripped jeans I wore, I reached into the small pockets and grabbed a handful of vervain. When Stefan was checking his phone, I shoved the vervain in his eyes and mouth. "Sorry," I squealed as I ran out of the car and into the crowd of people.
The streets were as busy as ever, tourists were flocking stands and the jazz players on the street played for money. Everywhere you looked there was someone smiling and having the time of their lives. I was here for important business, I needed help to get Kai. The French Quarter wasn't a large area. So it wasn't that hard to find somebody who knew the powerful witch Davina, especially in a place full of witches and vampires.
I entered a bar called Rousseau's, it was relatively empty for a busy Saturday afternoon. I did, however, catch one of the workers cleaning a table. I approached the black haired woman.
"Hello," I said from behind her. She placed the last glass in a grey box filled with other dishes and glasses. "I was wondering if you can help with something."
I was running out of time, Stefan may have already recovered from my vervain attack. Plus, I was only a few blocks away from the car.
"What is it sweet pea?" She had the well known New Orleans accent.
"Do you know someone named Davina Claire?" I asked.
"The Harvest girl?" She said in pensive thought.
"Is she the only Davina Claire you know? Where does she live?"
"St. Anne's church."
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