With Klaus and Rebekah missing, we were doing anything to help to find them.

At the abattoir, Elijah walked closer to Marcel and me. "Anything?"

"They're putting eyes and ears out everywhere," I told him. "Daywalkers are working every contact we got. Cops, dock workers, guys in the Treme. Word is out. Anyone trying to earn favors with us gets a lifetime of it if they find them."

"Good," Elijah told us. "I need a pen and paper."

Elijah started to walk away.

"Hey," Marcel said. We followed him into a side room. "Are we taking orders from you now?" Elijah took off his jacket. "Or are we in this together?"

"Pen and paper, Marcellus," Elijah told him, turning to face us. "Now."

"Look, I want her back just as much as you do, you know," Marcel told him. "Both of them."

Marcel turned, walking toward a desk and opening a drawer.

"Hayley!" Elijah called.

Hayley walked into the room. "Elijah. You're back. Did you find any--thing?" Elijah took off his shirt, revealing his body to be covered in tattoos. "What is happening?"

"I need you to make a list of these names," Elijah told her. Hayley walked closer. "Please."

"Okay," Hayley said, circling around him slowly to look over each of the tattooed names. "Sabine... Elijah, what is this?"

"I believe they represent the names of the woman Celeste inhabited for the past two centuries," Elijah told us.

"It's called a devinette," I told him. "It's old school. Kind of a riddle." Marcel handed Hayley the paper and pen. "Witches use them to teach their kids. Solve it and it disappears."

"Why?" Hayley asked. "What's the point?"

"Celeste forced me to make a choice between yourself and my siblings, and now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game," Elijah answered. "The longer the game, the more they suffer. To find Klaus and Rebekah, we need to solve this riddle. The solution lies somewhere in these names."

Marcel looked at Elijah's arm. "The name next to Sabine, Annie LaFleur. She's a witch that was shunned from her coven just over a year ago. Never knew why, but we can find out."

*

Marcel, Elijah and I went to talk to the leader of the coven, standing outside of a house next to his car.

"Annie was a good girl," he told us. "Witches done her wrong, shunning her like that, saying she was doing dark magic." He shook his head. "There's no way. But they had proof." He scoffed. "So, she just quit. And I can't really blame her for that. Because once you've been shunned, what's the point of going on, you know?"

Annie had drowned herself in the Mississippi.

*

At the nightwalker bar, we threw a human guy through the wooden door, making it break, falling to the floor, sunlight streaming in for everyone to see. We followed him in.

"W--what do you want from me?" the man asked.

I pulled him up, setting him in a chair.

Elijah stood in front of him. "Well, I assume you're familiar with this pigsty, quite appropriately known as The Pit. See, awkwardly enough, only weeks ago, a group of human beings just like yourself slaughtered many of the companions of the vampires that you see assembled before you here."

"You run the records room at City Hall," I told him. "We're told the former mayor kept a detailed record of the supernatural community. A ledger of names of witches, werewolves, and vampires. Specially, their death certificates. We need it."

"I don't know where it is," the man told us.

"I think we all know that's a lie," Marcel told him. "Anyone feeling hungry?"

Marcel started to close the door to make the sunlight go away.

The nightwalkers stalked forward, transforming, hissing.

"Oh, okay, wait," the man told us. Marcel opened the door a little bit, making the sunlight spread and the nightwalkers back away. "They moved the records. After the Mayor died. They're at the sacristy of St. Anne's Church."

"See?" Elijah asked. "There. Wasn't so difficult, now, was it?"

*

At St. Anne's Church, Marcel, Elijah and I went through the records.

Elijah found another name. "Here's another name from our list. Brynne Deveraux. Says here she drowned herself some 20 years ago. Do either of you recognize the name?"

"Brynne?" I asked. "Yeah. Yeah, we used to hang out. Knock around a bit."

"Noah, you can spare me the details, please," Elijah told me.

"She used to do some spells for me now and then," I told him. "Girl had power. Cursed a whole pack of werewolves just because they were pissing people off."

"Speaking of..." Marcel trailed off. "What do you think Klaus is gonna do when he finds out that you left him to suffer while you saved Hayley and her wolf friends?"

"Let's avoid discussing matters that are not your concern, shall we, Marcellus?" Elijah asked.

"Oh, come on, Elijah," Marcel told him. "We got guys all over this city. You honestly think that we don't know that the Crescent wolves had a little family reunion out at the plantation last night? Thanks for letting the house burn, by the way. Good riddance. But my question is, What's Hayley doing with that bunch?"

"I'm aware of your history with the city's wolves, and I assume you understand that if either of you lay a finger upon Hayley, it will be the last thing you do on this Earth," Elijah told us.

"Okay," Marcel said. "I see I hit a nerve. And just when we were getting along."

Elijah looked at the list of names. "We were right. Every name upon my flesh signifies a witch who died by her own hand." He turned the list to us. "All but one."

"Clara Summerlin," I read. Elijah closed the book, setting it down. I shook my head. "Ring any bells?"

"None," Elijah answered.

"Okay, well, if she didn't off herself, then how'd she die?" I asked.

"Influenza," Elijah answered. "Epidemic of 1919." The tattoos started to disappear. "I suppose we have our answer. Only I have no idea was it means."

No one did.