The Originals - Revenant

Chapter 16

»»—2014, New Orleans, USA—««

"We could have called first." He was driving way too slowly for me, it was starting to get on my nerves.

"I don't want to call him, I'm pissed," I said, "I rather just show up. And if he doesn't like it, I don't care. Turn right, here."

"I know how to get there," he insisted, tired of my instructions. Björn usually drove well, but he was way too careful, as he was with everything, overly prudent. He tried not to run anybody over but this city was crazy, people practically jumped in front of cars to get to the other side of the street. Or maybe to the other side. The building was right ahead, a beautiful compound that had been our home for so many years.

"What if he's not here?" he asked me while looking for a place to park our rented car.

"Please," I scoffed, "He's the King of New Orleans. There's no way he would leave. He's going to be exactly where we left him last time we visited."

"And if he doesn't want to help?"

"I'll kick his ass," I answered but he rose an eyebrow, looking for an actual answer.

"We helped him get this town back and keep it for almost a century," I said, "That still has some weight. Ouch!" The car stopped abruptly. I looked at Björn and he looked back at me apologetic. He had almost hit someone "Gods, I hate New Orleans."

"You keep saying that," he said once he made sure the guy was okay and he finished parking. "And still, we visit Marcel every decade."

"Cause I'm afraid the city will catch on fire because of him, again."

We walked together into the compound and, to my surprise but not to Björn's, it seemed empty.

"Marcel!" I called for him. "Marcel! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

It was so weird seeing the courtyard without people. Not even one soul was lurking there. Last time we were there it seemed like a non-stop party with music and people to feed on. Now it felt so, ironically, dead.

The dining crystal door opened widely.

"Beyla! Björn!" Marcel greeted us with open arms and a surprised frown on his face.

"Stable boy," I saluted back as he hugged me.

He scoffed and shook Björn's hand. "I told you to stop calling me that," he reminded me with a playful grin.

"And I told you it's not going to happen," I replied tilting my head, copying his smirk, "Old habits die hard."

"Come on," he said guiding us to the bar that stood on the side, "Let's get you guys a drink."

"Now we're talking," I whispered as I took the glass of bourbon he was offering. Björn took one too and sipped on it silently from time to time.

Marcel downed his quickly, which confirmed my suspicions about him being nervous. "So, what brings you guys here?"

"What are you on about?" I said innocently, "Can't we just visit family without an ulterior motive?"

He shook his head. "You usually write first," he noticed, "What are you after."

I nodded.

Straight to business then.

I downed my drink and sighed. "Imagine how surprised I was about two months ago," I said, walking to the bar and pouring myself another glass, "When I suddenly wake up, feeling like my whole body is burning and about to explode. Of course, I thought another Mikaelson must have died, cause that's what other vampires felt when Finn died, and when Kol died. And then they died." I narrowed my eyes to him. "I don't like that feeling, y'know. Not only does it mean one of my siblings is dead, but a whole bunch of people that I know is too. I did not enjoy thinking that I was next."