Elena pulled the heavy, leather-bound Grimoire from her bag, placing it carefully on the desk between them. The old tome exhaled a faint scent of dust and something indefinably older, like forgotten secrets.
Elijah, ever meticulous, examined the few pieces of evidence laid out before him before he wrote his observations down in the official records. He paused, looking up at Elena, his sharp gaze falling on the Grimoire. "All we've found so far doesn’t bring us any closer to finding Lamashtu's lair. What about the Grimoire?"
Elena sighed, pushing a hand through her dark hair. "I think this Grimoire has nothing on it. None of the magic artifacts we're looking for are even listed in here." She flipped through a few more pages, the parchment rustling softly. "And they vanished from the face of the Earth, it seems." Her voice was laced with a frustration that mirrored the two weeks they'd spent chasing phantoms.
A thoughtful frown creased his brow as he stared at the digital display of a cuneiform tablet retrieved from the FBI's encrypted vaults."We need to knock on Josephine LaRue’s door again," he murmured, his gaze cutting toward his partner. "She must have ancient texts on Sumerian witches in that library of hers. Priestesses. I know a tale of Sagburu of Ereš; she was depicted as a benevolent sorceress who defeated a rival in a battle of wills. This woman we're tracking... the one in the FBI files? She has the markings of Assyrian descent."
"I don't see Josephine helping us, Elijah. Last time we were there, she treated us like two-bit patrol officers. She was polite, yes- but it was the politeness one shows a cockroach before stepping on it. She's cold, and she's utterly unhelpful."
Elijah's eyes narrowed, reflecting the flickering overhead light. "Don't we have some kind of leverage to bring?"
The silence that followed was heavy, weighing down the room like a physical shroud. The case was a labyrinth, and they were running out of thread. Noticing the shadow that had settled over Elena's features, Elijah shifted gears. He abandoned the file, leaning forward, his voice losing its precinct-sharp edge.
"You look exhausted, Elena," he said softly. "The Compound… it's not a home. How about we look at that house in the Esplanade Avenue? You liked that one. Let’s move out. Get you some real distance between the job and... life."
Elena looked up, surprised. The grim reality of the unsolved case seemed to recede just an inch. A faint, genuine smile touched her lips.
"Yeah," she breathed, the tension in her shoulders finally beginning to ebb. "Let's do it. You're right. We need some normality. We definitely need a place that hasn't seen a century of Mikaelson family squabbles." She let out a small, dry laugh. "I'll even let Rebekah help with the décor. "If we're going to have a home, it might as well be aesthetically haunting."
An amused smirk played on Elijah's lips. "God help us both, then. But for now," he grabbed his phone, "let's see if we can't make Josephine LaRue regret her hospitality."
"Let's" Elena closed the Grimoire and slid it into her bag.
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