Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX
PSYCHIC DOCTOR SEUSS

"It's not the world that's cruel, it's the people in it."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     Henrik walked away from the masked man without looking back, eyes trained on where Marcel was leaning against the bar. He couldn't stop frowning. Strix members usually didn't give up information so easily. He supposed it was possible that not everyone in the Strix actually liked the Strix, but he doubted that was the case. He cast a glance at Mohinder as he walked, his frown deepening. He knew all about Mohinder. Even though they had never actually met, Mohinder was ancient, and infamous for his habit of feeding on nothing but the blood of people he beat in combat. It made him nervous to think that Marcel would have to fight him, but he was sure Marcel would figure it out.

Henrik stopped at Marcel's side when he reached the bar and plucked his glass of whiskey out of his hand, draining the rest of the glass before handing it back.

"Cheap," he commented even though he knew he was about to order something himself. Marcel didn't even blink when Henrik took his glass, just continued to search the ballroom with calculated eyes. Elijah was searching the room as well, though he did offer Henrik a small nod. Something in Henrik's chest relaxed, and he let out a small breath of relief. Elijah had never held a grudge against Henrik no matter how much he lashed out. Henrik was starting to think he was taking Elijah's unwavering forgiveness for granted.

"You came down with him," Elijah said, and suddenly Henrik didn't feel guilty anymore. He scowled and motioned for the bartender to bring him another, much stronger drink.

"Yeah," Henrik grumbled, taking the glass from the bartender before he squeezed into the space between his brother and Marcel, leaning his back against the bar. He took a sip of his drink and relished the way it burned down his throat. "That's kind of what dates do, Elijah." Elijah didn't seem to appreciate his sarcasm, shooting him a stern glare. Henrik just blinked in response and took another drink. At his words, Marcel had turned away from the crowd to arch a brow at him.

"You came here as Tristan's date?" Henrik snorted at the disdain in Marcel's voice. He flashed his friend a smile.

"Sort of," he admitted with a shrug. He nodded at the dance floor, where Tristan was still trying to woo Hayley. He didn't think it was possible for Hayley to look more uncomfortable. "As you can see, he's clearly more interested in Elijah's girlfriend." He hadn't missed the clench of Elijah's jaw each time he looked at the two of them dancing. Besides, even though Elijah had never shared his feelings, they were clear in the letters he sent to Henrik over the past two years.

"She's not my girlfriend." Elijah's response was a bit too quick, a bit too defensive. Henrik tilted his head and gave his brother a flat look. Elijah averted his gaze, jaw clenching again. Henrik knew the amusement he felt was cruel—Elijah was in love with Hayley, and Henrik usually supported his family where their romances were concerned—but Elijah butting his nose into Henrik and Tristan's relationship was still replaying in his head, and Henrik had never quite managed to build a filter between his mouth and his brain.

"Oh, right, she's Jackson's wife," Henrik said. "My bad." The glare Elijah gave him then was cold and angry. Anyone else on the receiving end of that glare would have flinched away, but Henrik just looked away and took another drink. He was irritated. He was always cruel when he was irritated. Elijah knew that. Besides, just that day, Henrik had said something much worse. Elijah would get over this one little jab within seconds.