Ch. 8: Voodoo In My Blood

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Marcel and I were updating our vampires about the status of the Hollow in Marcel's apartment.

"We got one priority today, keep the Hollow from getting her hands on the last two bones," I told them. "The Mikaelsons got one, the Hollow's got another. Which is why we're gonna check with every antique dealer, junk collector, and local historian until we control the final pieces. Now, if this vile spirit gets her hands on the bones first, she'll be impossible to kill."

"This is old magic," Marcel told them. "The covens can't stop it. But that is our city. All right? We protect it, no matter what we got to do or who we got to kill. We've had five years of peace, and we intend to keep it that way, but we need your help. All right? Now get out there. Go get 'em." 

There was indistinct chatter as the vampires left to go do as told. 

I turned to Marcel. "I'm sure our men will find the bones. By compulsion or alternative forms of persuasion."

"Of course," Marcel answered. "Just takes time."

Elijah walked in. "Of which we have none."

We turned to face Elijah.

"The hell are you doing here?" Marcel asked.

"We need to talk," Elijah told us. 

I sighed. "Make it quick."

"I need your help," Elijah told us. "Meeting an expert shortly. He'll be coming by way of Mystic Falls, carrying one of the bones and the means to find another. Between the four of us, we should have those remains by sundown."

"Why should I trust you?" Marcel asked. "I know that you can trust Noah here because he doesn't have the power to kill you, but why would you trust me?"

"I don't," Elijah told him. "But why should we let old grievances hinder our common goal?" He sat down in a chair. "Here's a proposal." He took out a knife, placing it on the table. "You come with me, I surrender the only weapon that can take your life."

Marcel and I were both surprised.


   ****  


We got to Jack's Bar-B-Q Shack in Marcel's car, opening the butterfly doors, getting out.

"Good thing we brought the German sports car," Elijah told us sarcastically.

"Says the man in the $5,000 suit," I replied.

"Nine, if we're counting," Elijah corrected. "I'm not a barbarian."

We reached an outdoor table, facing each other on either side of it.

"All right, look, your expert better pay off," I told him. "Otherwise, we're wasting time that we don't have."

"See, that's so very hurtful, Noah, and here I thought we were having a marvelous galactic adventure together," Elijah told me sarcastically.

"You think you're real cute, don't you?" I asked, sitting down. "Now, see, you're always working some angle to protect your family. At least Klaus is up front about it, but not you with your manners and your suits and your handkerchiefs."

Marcel sat down.

'What do you want me to do?" Elijah asked. Marcel and I didn't answer. Elijah sat down, whispering. "We're under threat."

"I know that, and I know how you handle threats," Marcel told him. "You made that clear when you tore my heart out five years ago. And just so we're clear now, there's no way I will ever forgive you for that."

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