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chapter one. house of the rising son
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THERE HAD BEEN doubt on the return to New Orleans, a city that held the future of partying. New Orleans was known as the Crescent City, the Big Easy, where people searched the streets of musicians, dancers, magicians, or whatever entertainment that was possibly found. Alongside those of talented attributes were the tourists, enjoying a normal night out in the French Quarter to the citizens of New Orleans. What those tourists and some citizens lacked was the knowledge of what moved within the shadows of New Orleans, over the music, singing and yells of enjoyment, it was hardly noticeable to some.
The music that ran through the streets of the French Quarter had been so loud it had been caught by those entering the border. The beating of the drums and the blow of the trumpets caused a girl, that thought neither of her past or future in the French Quarter, to grip tightly on the wheel of her black Camaro 1969, to where her knuckles had turned white. Wheels of the black Camaro rolled over small rocks which flicked up from the ground, no longer being part of the cement which laid across the roads that lead towards a white vintage mansion that sat away from the music and the noise which came from the Quarter.
If it was possible, the upper class girl's knuckles had turned whiter as the memories, she wished she could've put behind her, resurfaced due to the mansion that was once her home. Her foot had shifted to the brake of her Camaro to halt behind the red vehicle owned by a blonde who had placed her cellphone to her ear in hope of hearing from one of her older brothers, Elijah Mikaelson. "Elijah," Rebekah Mikaelson spoke sharply through the phone as she pushed herself out of her car and which had caused a hesitant Esme Browne to do the same. "if not answering your phone is part of your clever plan to get not only me but Esme back to this godforsaken city, then well done. We're here, and I'm worried. Now pick up before I kick in your bloody door."
As Rebekah had hung up the voicemail she left her brother with irritation, her attention shifted to her friend strutting beside her as the heels of her knee high boots battered against the pavement leading towards the stairs, there was a worried expression written on her face due to that silence that came from Elijah demanding both of their returns. "Well," The English woman's silence had broken before she had chosen to hover at the front door. "not hearing a thing from Elijah since he's told us to come back to this city, is reassuring." The sarcasm within the tone of her voice had caused the blonde's eyes to roll before she pushed open the front door leading into the foyer and where both girls were greeted by another coming down the stairs with a fire pit poker as her defence.
The brunette's face hardened at the approach of Esme and Rebekah, there was no one in which they were expecting, and she was rather confused with the casual wonder into what was meant to be her home. "Who the hell are you?"
Rebekah sighed as she placed both her phone and keys on the table to the side of the door. "Ahh." She forced a smile at the girl continued to make her way down the stairs. "You must be the maid. Our bags are in the car. Get them, will you?"
