#still remember

But he could not deny that his curiosity was piqued. And, if Marcel was deliberately keeping it from Klaus, whatever this was could spell another threat. “You certainly inherited Niklaus’ flair for showmanship. How could I possibly reject such a tantalizing opportunity?”

Marcel smirked. “If only I had inherited your vocabulary along with it. Then I’d really be unstoppable. So: why do you care so much about some dead witch’s body?”

Elijah folded his hands in front of him on the table. “I’ve never been a fan of the witches, but I’ve always respected their traditions, their culture. Denying them the right to honor their dead is the sort of barbarism I expect from a despot, not a proper leader.”

Marcel held his gaze. “I learned from the best.”

“So you did.”

They stood simultaneously and Marcel gestured for him to follow. “May I ask why you’ve kept this little mystery a secret from my brother specifically?” Elijah asked once they were out of the restaurant.

“Actually, I meant to ask him about it when he first got into town. But he’s been temperamental all day and obviously trying to move back in to my city, so I thought I’d keep it under wraps. But I still got questions and I figure you’d see the logic in keeping him out of this.”

“You’re putting an awful lot of faith in my silence. Interesting considering you no longer seem to trust me.”

“I think you’ll agree that if Klaus doesn’t already know about this, he really shouldn’t hear about it. It’ll only cause trouble.”

The rest of their walk was continued in silence. At least, Marcel wasn’t offering further conversation. That left plenty of time for Elijah to ponder, what, exactly, Marcel had to show him. New Orleans was a city of many secrets, both benign and malicious. What would he want to keep a secret from Klaus but feel safe showing Elijah? Did the other factions know of it as well? Did it have anything to do with how Marcel controlled the witches? Would Elijah need to negotiate further silence from them, or would they also want to keep Klaus in the dark?

By the time Marcel led him to Saint Anne’s Church, Elijah had developed no strong theories and his curiosity was at an all time high.

Marcel led him down to the basement of the church. Two vampire guards stood outside a cage-like door. Through the bars, Elijah couldn’t see much in the dim light, but there was a figure huddled on the ground in the middle of a circle of odd stones.

“How’s she been today?” Marcel asked as he put on some thick, leather gloves, similar to what falconers use to protect their arms.

“Quiet,” one of the guards answered. “Didn’t even try to bite when we fed her.”

“Interesting.”

The other guard opened the door and Marcel led the way in.

“May I ask what the gloves are for?”

“She likes to bite.” Marcel paused as he repositioned the gloves. “I wonder if her blood works the way you say Klaus’ does.”

Elijah tilted his head. “Why would that be a possibility?”

“She’s a hybrid.”

That stopped Elijah cold. “What?”

Marcel looked over his shoulder with a smirk on his face. “You see why I didn’t want Klaus involved.”

It was impossible. Marcel had to be mistaken. The only hybrids Klaus ever made lived in Mystic Falls and most of them were dead, aside from the “lucky” Tyler Lockwood, who was currently on the run for fear of Klaus killing him due to his relationship with the delightful Caroline Forbes. There was no way Marcel had his hands on one.

“How long-”

“About 50 years.”

Definitely impossible. Klaus hadn’t been able to make hybrids until he broke his curse (not for lack of trying). Even after he managed to do that, it took him months to figure out how to successfully make the few hybrids he did.

There’s no way he made one 50 years ago. Marcel must be attempting to trick him. Or he had been tricked. One of the two.

Elijah caught up to Marcel and watched as he knelt before the huddled figure in the middle of the circle. “Hey there. I brought someone to visit you. Do you think you can be nice?”

The figure raised their head so their face was visible. Feminine features were mostly covered by a muzzle and their blonde hair was tangled and matted. Their eyes flashed a brilliant gold – werewolf gold – before lunging at Marcel. He only laughed in response, not even backing away. “There’s that firey spirit. Where was that when my guys took you down?”

A low growl rose from behind the muzzle and Elijah could hear the faint clicking of fangs.

Marcel’s gloved hands rose to the muzzle and carefully undid the latches. “I’m gonna take this off. You promise not to bite?”

The girl was silent.

“Alright. You know what’ll happen if you try.”

As soon as the muzzle came off, Elijah’s stomach dropped.

He knew that face. Those eyes had haunted his dreams for the past thousand years. He would know those eyes, and the fury shining through them like a beacon, anywhere.

“Henrik, you should be more careful. There are wolves in these woods; they’ll eat you if you’re not careful.”

“Your brother is sweet, but far too trusting for these woods. Watch after him.”

“Mama? Mama, please wake up…..”

Those gray eyes locked on him next, and he could see the recognition in them. That glint in her eye, the tilt of her head, the smooth way she shifted to her knees to look at him better. She remembered him too.

He had no idea what that might mean for him and his family, for the child that would soon come into this world.

“This is Anya. Anya, this is-”

“Elijah Mikaelson.” Her voice was raspy, but firm. “We’ve met before.”

Marcel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Have you now? How interesting. And when was this?”

A smile crossed Anya’s face. “I told you. 1000 years ago, we were nearly friends.”

“We both know that’s bullshit.” Marcel turned fully to face him now. “She’s been spewing the same story since we met. She claims to be an Original, an Original Hybrid no less.”

“It is not ‘bullshit’, as you say. It is the truth.” Her eyes did not leave Elijah’s face even as she addressed Marcel.

“And why should I believe that? What, did Klaus manage to turn you before they put that binding curse on him?”

Anya laughed. “Marcellus, I’ve told you many times; Klaus Mikaelson was not my maker.” Anya slowly rose to her feet, bones cracking as she did. “Elijah, you can verify Klaus Mikaelson never made a hybrid in our time, no? I would be surprised if he managed to make any, with Esther’s way of working through loopholes.”

“I-”

Elijah lifted his hand to silence Marcel and stepped closer, his eyes wandering over Anya’s form. She was thinner than he remembered. She looked frail, not unlike Klaus did when he was being tortured with the hunter’s curse. “You’ll have to forgive my ignorance,” he said. “Marcellus kept me in the dark regarding what he wanted to show me, so I haven’t the faintest idea what your story is.”

Anya hummed. “Always secrets with that one. Very well; I will enlighten you. You recall how your brother became a hybrid? A discreet affair between your mother a member of a nearby pack, hidden until he killed a human with his vampiric bloodlust.” She licked her lips. “It turns out your father had similar inclinations. He had an affair with another pack member, and I was born. He kept his shame a secret much the same was your mother did – not that that stopped her from finding out about it. I believe it was her friend Ayanna that tipped her off – which gave her the idea for revenge.”

Elijah’s eyebrow raised. “She made you into a vampire to spite her cheating husband?”

“An eternal reminder of his deepest shame – the very same mistake he never let her forget.”

“And I’m supposed to just take your word for this?” Elijah challenged, though he wasn’t exactly doubting her. Several memories were arising, small moments and details lining up to complete a picture that had long been incomplete. Biting comments, hidden arguments, Mikael going “hunting” alone and coming back empty handed.

“You don’t have to take my word for it. Ask Marcellus. How many times has he tried to kill me and failed because he lacked white oak, hm? Even ripping out my heart-”

“Because you’re a hybrid!”

“No, Marcel.” Elijah glanced over his shoulder. “The hybrids my brother made a few years ago could be killed with the removal of a heart. I killed one that way.” He turned back to Anya. “If she truly cannot be killed with anything besides the white oak-”

“That’s not definitive.”

She snorted. “He keeps he here, trapped and starved, because he cannot kill me. He knows what I am, what I’m capable of, and yet he refuses to see the truth. Perhaps it scares him.” Her eyes bored into Elijah, golden glow and vampire veins on full display. “Does it scare you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

In a blink, Marcel had the muzzle back on. “I think that’s enough.”

Anya growled at him, but returned to the floor. Elijah let Marcel walk away and he knelt before Anya. “If your story is true, and I believe it is, we are family,” he murmured, voice low enough for only her ears. “That means you are under my protection. I will not leave you here to rot.”

Her stormy gray eyes did not speak of trust, but she did not growl.

Slowly, Elijah stood and followed Marcel out of the basement and away from the church. He waited until they were fully out in the cool New Orleans night before he spoke again.

“Why did you show her to me?”

Marcel stood across from him, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s my business. You going to tell Klaus about this?”

Elijah hummed and adjusted his tie. “No.”

Marcel quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I happen to agree with you that Niklaus learning of her existence would prove disastrous for most of New Orleans.” He would either grow paranoid and attempt to kill Marcel, or he would attempt to recruit Anya into his own army. Or he would do something much worse or more dangerous. “However, I would like to speak with her again. Privately.”

“And why would I allow that?”

Elijah stepped directly in front of him. “Because I am asking, rather politely I may add. I can assure you, she will not be on Niklaus’ radar. I simply wish to speak with her alone.”

Marcel, to his credit, did not flinch. “About what?”

“That is my business.”

His nephew stared at him for a long, silent moment. Then, he spoke. “I’ll be just outside the dungeon the whole time. And my guys will be on the lookout for you and your brother.”

Elijah nodded and gave him some breathing room. “Agreed. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to speak with her again.” With that, he sped away, mind whirling with possibilities. There were many questions, many possibilities, many risks.