With the news that Marcel was using a teenager to control The Quarter, MJ jumped into action, diving into Rebekah's head to try and find out where she'd been. Despite having a massive power boost after the summer, she couldn't – something was blocking her.

"She didn't use a spell," MJ announced.

Rebekah gave her a look, "She didn't use a spell?"

"Nope," MJ stepped back, tired from her brain-scanning, "She used pure power."

"What?"

"There's no spell on you."

None she couldn't find any way.

"She wanted you to forget, so you did," MJ summed up, "I can't do anything until I meet the girl. Then I can get a better read on the situation, identify her magic and stuff."

Klaus frowned, "What does that mean for us?"

"No clue."

"It means that Marcel has a superweapon, and you gave Elijah to him," Rebekah repeated the sentiment she'd been harping on with all morning, "If she's this powerful, how do we stand a chance at getting him back?"

"Actually," MJ worked as the calming agent, "Using pure power tells us something useful."

"It does?"

"You said she's a teenager, right?"

Rebekah nodded.

"Then she's untrained. That's our advantage."

"How?"

"Witches use spells, even non-verbal spells, because pure power is risky, unreliable, and kinda a huge no-no," She took a seat, "You're far more likely to die doing magic that way. If this girl is choosing to do that, it means she doesn't know how to do the actual spells."

An assumption – but MJ's assumptions were usually right.

"Power's only useful if you know how to use it," She knew that better than anyone, "I need to meet her."

"See," Klaus smiled, "Nothing to worry about, Rebekah. Marcel has his powerful witch. I have mine."

Rebekah accepted the answer, looking out the window to where the vampires had been burnt on the front lawn.

"I cannot believe you disposed of those vampires without me," She pouted, "You know how I love to set things on fire!"

"Was I supposed to leave them to rot?" Klaus pointed out, "Besides – they were my responsibility. They attacked the helpless pregnant girl who's carrying my child."

"Oh, I am so moved by your new-found sense of fatherly duties towards the werewolf carrying your hybrid bun in her oven."

"Perfect timing," MJ laughed as Hayley joined them, sliding cereal over the table towards her, "Welcome."

Hayley gave her a small smile, "The werewolf would like to know what the plan is."

"Well, that depends what plan you mean, love," Klaus grinned, "My plan for global domination, or Rebekah's plan."

He looked to the ceiling with a wistful and mocking look in his eyes.

"To find love in a cruel, cruel world?"

Rebekah faux smiled, then, in a flash, snatched the pencil MJ had been using to make notes and threw it at him with the force to 'kill.'

Klaus caught it gleefully just before it could drive into his face.

"The plan to rescue Elijah," Hayley sighed, "You know, the good brother? The one who is now in the possession of your mortal enemy after you stabbed him in the back?"

"In the front," MJ commented, "If we're being specific, it would've been the front."

"You guys said you'd get him back," Hayley was holding one of Elijah's journals tightly in her arms, "So is there a plan, or what?"

The three of them exchanged a look.

Rebekah finally let a small smile grace her lips.

"Okay. Well, firstly," Klaus happily began to talk, "Marcel is not my mortal enemy – he's my friend!"

MJ snorted.

"Albeit, one who is unaware that I'm trying to sabotage him."

"Have you had a friend you haven't tried to sabotage?" MJ pointed out, "It comes with the territory."

"Yet you're still here," Rebekah fiddled with the cereal bow, looking a little disgusted by the milk.

"I feel like it's been established on multiple occasions that I make bad life choices."

"Helpful life choices," Klaus spun the pencil in his hand, "Helpful for me, anyway."

Another snort.

"I'm going to take Marcel's hold over the supernatural community of The French Quarter, but he's a friend nonetheless, and you, as my friend, will be helping me."

"I will," MJ nodded.

"And secondly?" Hayley asked.

"I daggered Elijah to gain Marcel's trust," Klaus's eyes went harsh, "If I had known he would place my brother in the hands of a particularly nasty teenage witch, I certainly would have weighed my options a bit differently. And thirdly."

He pointed at Rebekah.

"Sister, please?"

"And thirdly," Rebekah spoke like a customer service worker, "The plan, as you have demanded, is for Niklaus to simply ask Marcel for Elijah back. "

Hayley looked at all of them, eyes jumping, "That's...that's not the whole plan, is it?"

"Please!" Rebekah scoffed, "Klaus may be a miserable excuse for a sibling, but there is none more diabolical."

"And that's only Plan A," MJ assured her, "There's always a Plan B, C, D, and well, I could just recite the alphabet, but I think you get the point."

MJ missed Katherine.

"And what's Plan B?"

Klaus smiled, answering simply, "War."

"I do feel like I'm gonna add a small disclaimer here," MJ put a hand up, "You do know I'm not going to kill the teen witch, right?"

"If she can be swayed, you won't need to," Klaus was plotting; she could see it in his eyes.

"Ah," MJ nodded, "You wanna use her."

"Precisely."

"I'm not gonna let you ruin her life either."

"Because working with me ruined your life?"

"It had its moments," Her life had been pretty spotty before Klaus arrived in it, "But fair enough point."

"Don't worry, love," Klaus winked, "I have enough room in my life for two."

"Ha, ha," She checked her beeping phone.

Caroline.

Tyler had finally called her...and left a voicemail to tell her he wasn't going to college.

MJ was gonna kill him.

He couldn't lowkey ditch his girlfriend over voicemail!

The three typing dots kept appearing, meaning MJ was gonna be receiving a long rant she could read later.

"I have to make a call," She started dialling his number, "Best friend duties."

After a few voicemails, she realised there wasn't a chance Tyler would pick up, knowing she would lecture him.

Giving up meant heading back downstairs, Klaus and Rebekah missing, spurring MJ to head into The Quarter too.

She had a list of things she wanted to buy, a subtle witch ingredient list, and she also a collection of human things to sort out. Even if MJ could potentially live off of Klaus's money for the rest of her life, she didn't exactly want to. There was an online newspaper in need of a new photographer for the city's social events, and she'd submitted her portfolio and CV a few days before coming to the city.

Her CV was pretty full, considering Carol had used her for almost every event in Mystic Falls, giving her experience with the local paper and the Founder's Website, plus her previous summer of programs and work experience.

She ended up having a lovely interview with one of the editors, getting given a trial run.

When that ended, MJ headed out of the building, spotting two teenagers, witch energy radiating off them as she passed.

They were buying pastries and bread from a bakery.

2000

MJ sat in her bedroom, listening to the argument.

Her dad was miles away, possibly miles above the ground – MJ didn't know the specifics of his flying times; she just knew that Ryos and her mum only argued when their dad wasn't around to potentially walk in on them.

She'd been asleep, woken by the sound of the microwave beeping.

Her mum only ever let it start beeping if she was distracted, i.e. talking to one of them.

She'd crept closer to the door to eavesdrop.

"I want to join a coven," Ryos demanded.

"You're ten," Ana scoffed, "No."

"If I was fifteen, would you be saying yes?"

Silence.

"Because it's not about my age," He moaned, "That's just your excuse."

"Ryos – "

"You don't teach me proper magic."

Ana went to speak, causing his volume to go up.

"You don't let me hang out with the other witches, and it's not fair!"

"It's more complicated than that," Her mum was working really hard to keep her voice steady and reasonable.

"What's complicated about wanting to be part of my community?"

"A community that doesn't even know you exist," She defended, "They're not missing you. You're not missing out on them either."

"You'll make sure of that."

"What on earth does that mean?"

"They're dying out, and you're letting them, when you should be helping!"

A second silence.

"Ryos," Her mum took a breath, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?"

MJ had never heard her brother so angry.

"I live here too, you know," He lost the anger, "Just because they don't know I'm a witch doesn't mean I don't hear things."

She shifted closer to the door.

"I know about the guy in Portland. I know about the demand for more respect, I know about the magic fading – "

"What are you talking about?"

Her mum voiced MJ's thoughts.

"I'm talking about how faulty The French Quarter magic is," Ryos suddenly became awkward, trying to get the words out, "They think the ancestors are shutting them out, and they're trying to work out what they've done wrong – and the vampires won't let them properly run The Quarter. And..."

A long breath in.

"And I know you're not doing anything to help."

"Ry – "

"You're a witch! A powerful witch! How can you live here and not help?"

Her mum finally stopped the microwave noise by opening and slamming the door shut, "What do you know about Portland? You were five when that happened."

"I was five, and I was hearing people talk about siphoners, and I knew that was what you called MiMi, so I wanted to know what was going on. Mass murder isn't that hard to find out about."

"Ryos," Her voice dropped, "Why would you go looking for that type of stuff?"

"Because you wouldn't tell me anything!"

"Look," Ana sighed, "New Orleans politics is more complicated than a story about some guy a few states over. Not getting involved? It's about the vampires – the danger."

"And I don't get what the danger is."

"Marcel Gerard."

"Who's that?" Ryos sounded unimpressed.

"King of the Vampires."

"Dumb title."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"You can't be king of a worldwide species."

"King of the City then," Her mum was really trying to get him to stand down.

"You can't be kind of a city either – it's a city."

"Well, that's what everyone treats him like."

"Why?"

"Because he's powerful."

"More powerful than you?"

Her mum didn't respond.

"A vampire is a vampire," Ryos was pulling a face, "Witches are stronger. If he's the problem, they should just kill him."

"You think they haven't tried?" Ana finally raised her voice a little, "You want to research murder and conflict? Look into the Cemetery Massacre from 1995."

MJ heard Ryos's seat pull out a little, "Cemetery Massacre?"

"You're right," Her mum said bluntly, "People were worried about siphoners. Witches wanted more control of the city – I don't know what you're talking about around ancestors and being shut out, but those first two points are true."

MJ tried not to take the comment personally.

"A group of witches were brutally murdered, left piled up at the entrance to Lafayette Cemetery, and the vampires walked away," Ana did sound angry, "This city? It's not run by who has the most power. It's run by who's willing to do the worst to other people."

MJ couldn't help but think that ideology sounded stupid.

"Marcel and his people have been here since the start, and they remain on top because he is willing to do anything to keep his power. And you? You will stay away from the covens. Staying away will keep you alive."

Ryos scoffed, "Covens, witches – we're meant to work together!"

"They don't – "

"You lecture me on Floare community and inner peace while telling me to stay away – stay alone! Working together? That's what would keep us alive."

"You're ten. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know more than you do!"

"God Ryos – "

"I actually care about other witches."

MJ's eyes went wide.

She looked through the crack in the door at her mother's enraged face.

"You quit on your family," Ryos crossed his arms, "I'm not gonna quit on mine."

"I didn't quit on my family!" Ana let herself yell, "I found a new one."

She took a calming breath, reigning it in since Ryos had flinched. He was just an upset kid.

"You. Your father. Your sister. You are my priority. Not witches who float around the globe, letting themselves get slaughtered."

Ana didn't have a lot of respect for people.

"Not witches in The Quarter who are stuck up, unaccepting, and desperate for power."

"Unaccepting?" Ryos gave her a look, "So I can't make friends because of – "

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

MJ wasn't quite sure how the sentence would end, but she had a feeling it was about her.

"You can make friends. You can do things. I'm just asking you to stay away from witches in the city. Because they aren't your family. They're just witches."

Ryos stood up, ready to storm to his room, but he stopped.

He had one final point to make.

"You talk about them like they're so bad, but you don't even know any of them."

MJ closed her eyes, muttering tiny words to make the ancestral whispers in her ear quiet down.

"They're getting hurt. They're losing. And you're letting them," Ryos was young, but he had Ana's sense of right and wrong, "You're selfish and unfair."

He left without finishing his breakfast, and Ana let him, knowing it wasn't an argument worth having while he was still so young and uneducated on the situation.

She couldn't be mad at him for wanting friends who really understood him, who he wouldn't have to lie about being a witch too.

She couldn't be mad when his attitude mirrored the one she'd had growing up.

Was it wrong that Ana hoped he did look into the massacre?

It might scare some sense into him.

After ten years of living in the city, of getting to know him, Ana had to give Marcel some credit.

He knew how to spin a story to make himself look like the top dog – no. The top lion. Even if the story wasn't his ideal or his plan.

After so many years, she knew Marcel wasn't bloodthirsty for no reason.

If he was gonna use the stories to keep his crown, so was she.

Painting Marcel out as the villain to her kids was a lot easier than revealing how close to home the problem really was.

...The comment about ancestors shutting witches out made her nervous.

Ana wasn't sensing anything, but she wasn't a city witch.

She wasn't tuned into their ancestors, but both her kids were. She could see the spirits in the way her daughter would get nightmares. The way Mira would talk to invisible voices on the balcony – ghosts taunting her at school.

Ana had gone into Mira's head one night while she'd been squirming in her sleep, and she'd heard the voices tormenting her.

Suddenly her daughter's dismissal of her school peers made a lot more sense.

Ana hadn't understood who Mira heard talking badly of her; she hadn't known it was witch-brain – but if every nightmare MJ had was filled with spirits repeating awful phrases?

Ana couldn't blame her for not wanting to connect with people.

She was trying to stop the voices from becoming real.

The city ghosts were haunting her daughter, and her son was being pulled towards the living ones.

It was a problem.

And Ana didn't have a clue what was going on because she wasn't in the loop.

What if Ryos was learning things because someone had figured out he was a Floare?

What if they thought Mira was a siphoner?

If magic was acting up, and the elders thought the ancestors were mad at them, they would happily blame a siphoner for the situation – find a way to link the fighting with the vampires to Mira being born.

She couldn't let that happen.

That afternoon, Ana called Riley to babysit, heading to the cemetery, crashing a Nine Covens meeting.

Josephine, the one person in town Ana really remembered from her first time there, was standing on a raised stone platform, talking while preparing a sacrificial food pyre for the ancestors.

A mini peace offering she liked to do at every large gathering.

She'd been mid-sentence when her voice had trailed off, eyes focused on the end of the path, where Ana's bored face was standing.

"Miss Ruiz."

Everyone went tense.

They weren't used to someone just crashing a meeting, and only a few people knew her as a witch.

"This is a private coven event," Josephine gestured around, "If you're here for a personal meeting, you'll have to wait until another time."

Ana shook her head, "I'm finally ready to join."

Silence.

Josephine stepped forward, onto the same level as the rest of them, the crowd parting as best they could among the graves to make way from them both to walk closer together.

"Ready to join?"

"Yep."

Everyone was watching her, so Ana took a moment to inspect the space, kicking at the muddy tiles and turning her nose up.

"You're all trying to beat vampires, and watching you lose has been fun, but it's officially getting on my nerves."

Someone huffed, not liking the comment, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm the witch who's going to change your life," She smiled, rubbing her hands together, "I've travelled the world, I know magic from all the corners, and if you seriously wanna reclaim The Quarter, you're gonna have to learn my tricks."

Josephine didn't trust it, "Why now?"

"Finally took my magic back."

When Ana had first moved to the city, pregnant with Ryos, moving in with Ryan, Josephine had demanded that she join a coven, knowing how much power she'd had in her youth.

Ana had lied, claiming that removing the Floare magic she'd stolen had almost been too much, forcing her to give up all of her magic in order to physically recover.

If there was no magic in her blood, Floare rules meant her kids wouldn't have the gift either.

The curse.

Ana could never really think of magic as a gift after all the pain it'd caused her.

She'd built up the perfect illusion that Ryos and Mira were completely normal, and everyone had been buying it. No prying eyes trying to test the story, stalk them, or sign them up to a coven.

None till Ryos had started talking about it.

Ana needed to know what he knew, which meant she needed to join.

If she joined, she could learn how to communicate with the ancestors, and she could get them the hell out of her daughter's head.

Maybe Ryos had a point too.

Maybe a coven would be better than a Floare troupe.

The covens were willing to fight back and protect each other – and if they could protect each other, Ana wouldn't need to fear anyone hurting her kids.

If they owed Ana for saving them, they'd have to accept a siphoner if they wanted to keep her helping.

"Felt something up with the magic in the streets, realised it probably had something to do with the vampires getting a little too big for their boots," She summed up, "Thought I should probably lend a hand."

Ryos's point about her being selfish...well, he wasn't wrong. She'd grown incredibly selfish through the years.

But, that was because magic was bad for her.

Mentally and physically.

Still, Ryos didn't know all the Floare details of her past yet, and Ana would deal with her magic addiction problem if it meant keeping her kids safe.

"I mean, what kind of witch would I be if I didn't help my own kind."

2011

MJ remembered the argument. She remembered how her mum had a lesson to teach that afternoon, so MJ's piano teacher and family-friend had come over to babysit.

Slowly, Ryos had come out of his room, disappeared into the city to buy pain au chocolate, and then apologised like crazy with them once their mum got back.

MJ had just finished the last of her shopping when Klaus called her.

"Dale."

"Marcel's throwing a masquerade tonight."

"Fancy."

It would be her second masquerade, and she had to hope it would be a little less stressful since Katherine wasn't trying to get the moonstone off them at this one.

"Want me there?"

"Precisely. A stranger will keep people on their toes, and you clearly make Marcel uncomfortable."

Their run-in at the party and the bar the next day had made that clear.

Even if Marcel didn't remember her, there was something about her presence that didn't sit right with him, and MJ needed to work out what it was.

"Is that because of you?" She asked, "Or do you think it's because part of him does think he knows me?"

"It's me," He assured her, "You're human, and he doesn't understand why you're floating around me, uncompelled and completely relaxed."

"Wonderful," She smiled, "I'm not gonna play blood bag girl though, I'm gonna be snooping around your old house – just saying."

"I need him on edge," Klaus nodded in approval, "Cause as much trouble as you wish."

"Perfect."

"In fact, see if you can find where he's keeping his spells. If you can walk off with a few of them," He chuckled, "That would be useful."

"Sounds like a plan."

"You might want to come back to the house. I'm trying to train my new minion, and it's not going well."

MJ laughed, "See you soon."

Walking back to the house, she passed a witch giving a city tour, all the voodoo and magic spots.

She couldn't help but take a picture of the busy life of the streets. It seemed so bright around her, and as happy as the photos made MJ, she couldn't wait for when she finally got a spare minute to turn some of them into paintings.

Just before MJ hopped on a bus that would drop her closer to the house, she couldn't stop herself from passing by her old favourite art shop - where her brother would get all her birthday and Christmas presents from.

Should she tell him she wasn't in New York?

It's not like Ryos needed to know she was up to something, and she knew from the summer he'd lost the ability to break her tracking spell...It wasn't like he was really checked in on her. He'd wished her a good first day at the start of September, and nothing else.

Part of MJ missed sending him life update videos.

She missed taking footage and editing clips of her enjoying stuff, but she was also a little relieved. MJ didn't have to sit, desperately waiting for him to say reply, and she no longer had the disheartened feeling that would weigh her shoulders down as days passed without a text back.

Taking pictures and videos were finally about her again, not him, as it should be.

MJ opened the front door, Klaus talking on the phone at the top of the stairway to the basement, so she headed straight down, dumping her things by the door.

She froze when she saw the guy standing next to the prisoner.

It was the guy she'd given directions too.

"Oh my god," His eyes went wide at her, and she instantly put both hands in the air, "You – "

"I had nothing to do with this, I swear!"

He was wearing a khaki green jacket and a nice patterned shirt, sticking a small pipe into the victim's stomach, ready to vomit.

"I – you..."

He backed away a little, stopping the makeshift torture.

MJ had no way to really prove that she hadn't set him up, so she chose to focus on the prisoner.

He was chained to the wall, two cuts at really odd spots up his arms, half awake and wearing a white shirt, blood around the stomach wound that healed every time the pipe was pulled out.

He growled at her.

MJ rolled her eyes, before finally looking back to the new vampire.

He looked paler than before, and MJ noticed the lack of daylight ring on his finger.

...Marcel's way of controlling people.

"Um," She pointed at the disastrous attempt he was making to drain vervain from his system, "Do you mind if I...?"

He held his hands forward and nodded rapidly, "Please."

MJ laughed.

"That guy upstairs seems to think I'd know how to do this, and I think he's gonna rip my head off when he clicks I don't, and I don't know what's going on, and he's – I – you told me to – "

"Okay," She waved her hands, "First, I repeat, I had nothing to do with you getting turned."

Damn, the universe hated her.

"This is a horrible coincidence. Second," MJ's eyes scanned the prisoner, "You need to flip him and cut the main arteries."

She waved her hand, the guy yelping as his body flipped, chains moving and tightening to accommodate the new position, properly stretching him out.

Then she swiped two fingers three times, cuts appearing across his body, leaking at a much faster rate.

"The external carotid artery in his neck – both sides," Her words were quick, "It's found behind the sternocleidomastoid muscle, which is from the back of the ears to where your collar bone meets. The 'v' in the neck."

MJ rubbed hers to show him.

"Then the radial and ulnar arteries in the wrists," She lifted, "And then you should just open the chest to hurry the process up."

"Oh my god."

"Turning him upside down makes it quicker too, but I tend just," She snapped her fingers, and the bleeding sped up.

"Oh my god."

MJ looked from the body to him, blinked, then put her hands to her face, "Oh my god, you must think I'm a sociopath!"

He didn't respond, frozen.

She shook her head, "I went through a phase!"

"A phase where you became a master in Medieval torture?" He mumbled, a sarcastic eyebrow raised, "Or a phase where you were a sociopath?"

"No, no, no – Biology!"

At least he had some sense of humour about the situation.

"When I was thirteen!" Her nerd days, "I wanted to drop the class, and my brother was going into Medicine, so I learnt everything I could about the entire topic to get it all done in like a year. Major veins came up."

After rushing to get the words out, she really thought about the comment.

MJ tilted her head and scrunched up her nose.

"Well, I mean, I went through a Medieval History phase too," She admitted, "And their weird torture methods did come up."

She much preferred history to biology.

Bio always made her feel gross.

"But I promise I'm not a sociopath!"

Pause.

"Which is exactly what one would say," She nodded slowly, voice fading out as she clicked the hole she'd dug herself into by rambling, "If they wanted to manipulate you."

Finally, MJ tried for a simple smile.

Surprisingly enough, he managed to return it.

"I'm MJ," She offered him her hand.

Hesitantly, he took it, "Josh."

"Nice to meet you, sorry it's in such an odd way, and sorry you got caught in the crossfire of vampire warfare."

"...You're one of them?" He looked over to the now rapidly bleeding body, "Because I didn't realise telepathy – or telekinesis – or whatever that was, was part of the whole vampire-stick, but the guy upstairs keeps telling me to do stuff, and I can't say no."

"I'm what they call a witch, actually."

"Witches are real?" His voice went a little higher, "Witches are real too."

"And werewolves."

"...And werewolves..."

MJ loved first-time reactions, especially since Josh was clearly conflicted between being terrified out of his mind and in awe of the world he was now living in. She related to that feeling.

That had been her around Elijah when he'd first shown up as living supernatural history.

"Fantastic!" Klaus walked down the stairs, seeing the prisoner's skin far paler than before, a few grey veins starting to sneak in, "Blood everywhere!"

"Marcel said 'no?'"

"Marcel said 'no.'"

He picked up a pitchfork at superspeed and impaled it into the vampire's stomach, causing him to gasp in pain as he was piked into the wall.

"Um," Josh looked around nervously, "Am I allowed to ask questions?"

MJ felt like the guy deserved some answers, given the absurdity of his new life, "Go for it."

"What did..." He managed to look the guy in the eye for a second, "What did he do to you, anyway?

"It's not about what he did," Klaus spoke like he was commanding a room, "It's about what he's going to do when we're done here, which is whatever I want him to, just like you."

He pulled the pitchfork out and handed it to Josh while compelling him.

"For example, drive this through his torso."

Josh did as instructed, looking horrified as he did.

"This is crazy," He was panting, on the edge of a panic attack.

MJ hated it.

"I, I didn't want to do it," His body trembled, "But I did it anyway."

"It's called compulsion," MJ tried to keep her voice as friendly as possible, "Vampires can compel humans. It's something you'll learn."

"Originals, like my siblings and I," Klaus sounded full of himself, "Can also compel vampires – and no one can compel Originals. You following?"

Josh nodded, still scared out of his mind.

"Good," Klaus patted him on the shoulders, "That is how a brand-new nightwalker such as yourself is here, doing my bidding, with no one the wiser."

The blood was really starting to stain the floor.

"But I never had my guts drained out of me."

"Yes. That, young Joshua," Klaus's tone always made her laugh, "Is because I got to you before you had even a drop of herbal vervain in your system. You see, it prevents compulsion."

"Marcel's has his whole crew taking it since The Originals came back to town," MJ explained, "You bleed a guy out to get the vervain out."

"And once it is," Klaus pulled the pitchfork back, running it through the guy's abdomen again, twisting roughly, "I can compel him to follow my every command."

Never the one for free-will teamwork.

"And with my brother currently in captivity and awaiting rescue, we can't afford to be gentle about it, can we?"

"He'll be ready in a few minutes," MJ's cuts weren't the kind that could heal, blood being forced out of them.

"Good, because one compelled minion does not an army make."

Josh looked at her, "Are you compelled too? If you're not a sociopath."

"Witches can't be compelled," She quickly glanced at Klaus, "He is compelled not to spill secrets, right?"

"Of course."

"Just checking," She went back to Josh, "I'm usually super against compulsion. Like, I'm all types of conflicted right now, and the second I can give you free will, I will."

MJ would make sure Josh got his mind back.

"But Marcel needs to be dealt with, sooner rather than later, so things like this," She gestured to the leaking body, "Happen – again, sorry."

"It's okay?"

God bless his confused soul.

"You don't need to say that," MJ cringed, "You'll never be required to tell me this is okay, or thank me for any witch help you end up getting, or even forgive me once it's over."

Klaus's phone started to buzz, and he quickly answered, holding it out for MJ to hear.

"Well?"

"You were right about the traitor."

It was nice to have Rebekah and Klaus on the same team again.

"Luckily, she's just a kid, and she doesn't know anything about us or what we're up to. Do you want to hear the part that's gonna please you the most?"

"Oh," Klaus smiled, "Do tell!"

"She's in love with someone in Marcel's inner circle," Rebekah's tone matched his, "Guess who it is?"

"Please me the right-hand-man type?" MJ really thought they needed to deal with Thierry.

If Marcel was shown mistreating his most loyal companion, it would shake everyone up.

"Two points for you," Rebekah confirmed, "Thierry is fraternizing with the enemy."

"Well," Klaus mused, "That means he just unwittingly became the key to our entire plan."

"I told you you'd be pleased."

"Oh, to be young and in love in a city where witches and vampires are at war," Klaus smirked, "How very tragic."

"Shakespearian almost," MJ finished.

2002

"Don't listen to the voices," Ana spoke clearly, walking behind a collection of people, teenagers from a few different covens.

They were sitting by the river's edge.

She'd been teaching magic for about two years, and it had been going smoothly.

Ish.

The fact she wasn't teaching ancestral magic didn't sit right with anyone who'd grown up in the city, especially since they were blaming her lessons for the fact magic had been flickering.

In Ana's opinion, the flicker was super minor. Elders getting too old to hold complex spells, all deliberately ignoring the fact that the 'fading magic' had started before Ana had gotten involved with the community.

"Listen to the sound of the water."

The river led into the opening of the Bayou, far from the rest of the world, meaning they could just be witches.

"Or maybe the wind, or those rustling leaves," She felt herself drifting away, "The bird song."

Ana always loved birds.

"Let the magic of the world around you fill you up, and when you're ready," She counted down from three slowly in her head, "Release it."

She'd gotten up early to dig out a mini flower garden, fresh soil and fertiliser, seeds hidden among the bed as the witches held their hands out, one of the guys from the Tremé coven flicking his wrists, reciting the spell she'd been teaching them.

The seeds burst to life, stems shooting up and turning to vines that whipped forward with a sharp crack.

Fire burst out instead of a bud, jumping to the river, blazing on top of the water – blazing despite the water.

Ana smiled as he opened his eyes, grinning.

The fire wasn't going out, it was growing, and if she'd been religious, she probably would've taken it as a bad omen. But, since he was then able to wave his hand and send it away, she wasn't worried.

Not until a girl near the end of the line screamed.

Her eyes were bleeding, and she'd fallen to the side, clutching at her head.

"Sophie," Ana quickly dropped to her side, taking her pulse, "Soph – "

None of the people in the group should've been affected by the spell. They'd been able to master all the other tricks she'd been showing them, and those spells were much harder to use.

The girl's eyes rolled back in her head as lines began to appear up her arm.

Ancestral branding.

Ana cupped her face tightly, muttering a counterspell and a healing spell, everyone's eyes on her as Sophie Deveraux slowly regained control of her body, the marks disappearing, blood tears retuning to normal ones.

Her arms instantly wrapped around the girl to soothe her and to hide her grim expression.

Ana didn't want the kids to realise she was anything other than happy and relaxed.

The ancestors shouldn't be interacting with young witches like that.

"Ana!" The voice of a French Quarter Elder broke the sigh of relief they'd all been experiencing.

"Bastianna," Ana forced herself to stand up, patting her clothes down, "Come to watch real magic?"

"Come to demand you explain yourself?"

"Explain myself?"

"A witch is dead."

Silence.

"Um," Ana looked to the witches, "We'll finish this another time; well done, Vin."

The guy who'd performed the spell correctly.

"...Jane-Anne?"

Sophie's sister.

"Tell your parents to come find me? Let me talk to them about what happened?"

Everyone retreated away, and only once they were out of sight and earshot did Ana allow herself to really focus on the slight accusation in Bastianna's voice.

"What happened?"

"You did."

"Me?" Ana scoffed, "I've been here all afternoon."

"You're little lessons are being put on hold."

"You need to tell me what happened."

"What happened?" Bastianna's face got angrier, "One of our witches took the tricks you've been teaching them and challenged a group of vampires."

Ana's eyes went wide, "On their own?"

"Yes."

That didn't add up.

"No witch just attacks a group of vampires," Ana defended, "They must've done something – "

"That doesn't matter."

Ana bit her lip.

She didn't get on with most of the elders on a regular day, but if someone had just died, and her spells had been part of it, Bastianna had a right to be harsh with her tone.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't just yell at the old lady to back-off.

"She killed a nightwalker, nearly got a daywalker too until a third snapped her neck."

Ana's breathing hitched.

A witch was dead.

A vampire and a witch had been killed, in the middle of the day, in the Quarter

"I – I need to talk to Jo."

"Yes, you do," Bastianna hissed, "And then you need to stop spouting your tainted magic."

"My magic isn't tainted."

"You say that," Bastianna shook her head, "Brynne Deveraux was given a vision today."

"Wonderful. Proof magic isn't fading."

Proof Ana's 'you're all just getting old' theory to be true.

"You can all stand down on your war quest and focus on the fact a family has a daughter to mourn."

"It was a vision of a shadow over the ancestors," Bastianna raised her voice, "Costing us The Quarter."

...Well, that wasn't a helpful vision.

"It was a call to action."

"So you do want an actual war with the vampires?" She took a step towards the elder, challenging her, "You look down on me for teaching kids how to defend themselves – you say I need to be stopped, then you talk like you could do anything to change the hierarchy of the city without me."

"You are the shadow."

"Quite the assumption."

"You're turning people away from the ancestors. Sapping their power."

"I'm teaching them ways to defend themselves that don't rely on spirits," She held her head high, "Spirits that cause a girl's eyes to bleed and arms to be branded because they're mad about something."

They'd punished Sophie for someone dying.

That was the only reason that made sense in Ana's mind since the rest of the lesson had been practically uninterrupted by voices butting in about the correct way to harness power.

"There's something off about you," Bastianna decided, "There always has been."

Technically, not an incorrect statement.

"And I'm going to figure it out before you cost us our home."

"You're one elder," Ana rolled her eyes, "You have a problem with my involvement in your home? Bring it up with the Regent."

With that, she stormed away to find Jo herself.

Ana hadn't officially joined one coven yet, revealing herself to the covens as a floater for all of them. She didn't have to listen to an elder, she only had to answer to Jo.

2011

Rebekah came back to the house with the witch of the month, Sophie Devereaux.

Straight dark brown hair falling past her shoulders, a side fringe that had grown a little bit too long, and a rocker tee exposing the light blue tattoo on her right forearm.

Her black eye make-up suited her, and MJ couldn't help but appreciate her vibe.

She felt terrible about her sister dying to confirm the pregnancy, but it also showed MJ how badly the city needed Marcel gone. No one should be killed over magic that tiny.

Klaus, Rebekah, and she were all standing in the study, Sophie eyeing her up from her position on the couch.

"You let your human listen in on your war council?"

MJ had assumed Sophie would've sensed magic on her.

Clearly not.

"Yes," Klaus answered bluntly while MJ laughed to herself, "I do."

They were planning for the evening – how the three of them would attend Marcel's little fundraising party while Sophie performed a locator spell for them.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sophie wasn't on board with the plan, "No way."

"It's very simple," Rebekah was walking around the sofa, "We need you to perform a teeny, tiny locator spell to help us find our brother."

"Witches who practice magic in this town get caught," Sophie crossed her arms, "And then they get killed."

MJ pulled a face.

She'd used magic every day since arriving, and not a single thing had happened to her.

She was putting it down to the fact she wasn't using ancestral magic, but if it was that simple, surely The Quarter witches would've figured out that loophole?

MJ hadn't worn any runes during her stay either, which had been a really weird adjustment to her morning routine, but it was what she needed to do to stay under the radar. Runes would tell Marcel she was a witch or, at the very least, working with one.

"Yes, about that," Klaus said dryly, "It seems you left out a crucial detail when we made our deal – Marcel's secret weapon."

Sophie shifted.

"The way he knows when a witch is using magic."

The siblings took a seat in the two chairs facing the sofa simultaneously, a little too choreographed.

"Girl about yea high," Rebekah put her hand up, "Cute as a button, anger issues?"

Sophie shot up, "Davina?"

And MJ finally had a name.

"Where have you seen her?"

"I don't know," Rebekah huffed, "The little brat erased my memory right after she threw me out a window with her bloody mind."

"Let me cut to the chase," Klaus lent forward, "Davina has Elijah. You witches, I assume, want to get Davina away from Marcel. We don't know where she is. Ergo, we need magic."

"Davina would sense it."

"Unless, of course, another witch – say, a traitor to the cause, Katie for example," Rebekah's turn to lean closer, "Performed much more powerful magic at the same time."

The reason MJ wasn't just tracking Elijah for them.

They needed to deal with Theirry, and this was the way to do that.

"That would create a smokescreen, concealing your tiny spell from Davina."

Unknown to Rebekah, Klaus was setting Sophie up to fail.

That way, he could get Thierry dealt with, earn Marcel's trust, upset his community, and hopefully get Elijah given back.

If he wasn't, then MJ could step in and steal him back.

If they just took Elijah, Marcel would have something to be suspicious about.

She shook her head, "Katie doesn't deserve to die."

"Sophie Deveraux!" Klaus slammed his hand into the table, "You're in no position to be so principled."

He moved onto it, sitting directly in front of her.

"You can't win a war without a few strategic losses, no matter how regrettable they may be."

Sophie held his glare.

"How many times have vampires been one step ahead? Known something they shouldn't?" Klaus put on his fake-sympathy voice, "Your sister – executed in the public square for practising magic."

"Hold up," MJ was still partly catching up on all the details, "If you know practising magic is illegal, why on earth didn't she run?"

"She did," Sophie admitted, "She got caught in the cargo hold on a freighter right before it set sail down the Mississippi."

MJ smiled, "And who works at the docks?"

"No, Mira," Klaus shook his head, "He doesn't just work at the docks; he manages the docks."

Sophie's face dropped at the realisation, "Katie's boyfriend, Thierry..."

Her friend had sold her sister out.

"Let's do it."

"Now tell me," Klaus relaxed, "Where exactly will I be able to find this 'Katie?'"

"She works at this flower shop on Royal Street."

MJ straightened up, "Fai's?"

Sophie nodded.

"Huh, once run by a witch," MJ hadn't let herself go back to her family's old shop yet, "Always run by a witch, I guess."

Sophie just gave her an odd look, "It used to be owned by a crazy lady. Katie's only there part-time, and every week she cleanses the energy from the walls."

MJ narrowed her eyes, Klaus glancing up at her, a knowing look in his eyes.

He'd been on Royal Street – he'd sat on her mother's bench, opposite a flower shop.

"What do you mean, 'crazy lady'?"

"It's a witch thing," Sophie waved a hand, "Don't worry about it."

"Answer the question," Klaus demanded.

"Some people just aren't meant to be witches," Sophie just shrugged, "There are defect ones."

That was the word that meant Rebekah realised they were talking about MJ's family.

"She was a siphoner, and siphoners are crazy."

MJ froze.

"Their only purpose in life is to kill witches, and this one had it down to an art."

Her mum hadn't been a siphoner, and she'd never killed witches – not in the Quarter anyway...

Not to her knowledge.

Sophie had to be talking about someone else.

"How old are you?"

Sophie pulled a face, "Twenty-three?"

Same age as her brother.

"Don't you think," MJ spoke carefully, "You're a little old to be making sweeping statements about how all of one species are evil?"

"You're human. You can't be siphoned," Sophie defended, "You don't know what it feels like to be siphoned, so you wouldn't get it."

"Have you ever met a siphoner?"

"I met her."

"Did she ever siphon you?"

"Well, no."

"Then you don't know any better than I do."

Klaus and Rebekah shared a look.

"Sorry," Her family situation wasn't the focus that night, "We got off-topic."

MJ had to assume Sophie was talking about her mother, but none of the information made any sense.

Her mum had started to talk to coven witches, but why would anyone think she was a siphoner?

You don't just accidentally think someone's a siphoner.

You see them siphon something.

- I'll probs post Pt 2 once this gets enough votes rather than waiting a few days :)
These chapters are split in two cos they're like 18000 together lmao - Bea xx