ELIJAH was in the middle of working out at the new gym Marcel had set up at St. Anne's church. He was vigorously punching and kicking a punching bag. After a moment, he grew so heated in his exercise that he punched the bag clear across the room, where it knocked over a bench press and hand-weights.

"Still angry I presume." Ingrid commented in a dull voice as she stood before him.

Rolling his dark brown eyes, Elijah pulled out a towel and used it to blot the sweat from his face. "What do you want, Ingrid?"

She licked her lips with an amused chuckle before holding up two black cards. "It would appear that our presence has been requested." She explained and read the back of Elijah's invitation aloud. "I do hope that you can come, old chum. Signed, Tristan." She waved the he invitation in the air and he walked over to pluck the invite out of her hands to read it for himself.

"Our?" He questioned in curiosity, looking up at her from the corner of his eye.

"Ah..." Ingrid drew out slowly and held a finger up. "It would please me to see you there, my love. Eternally yours, Tristan." She read in disgust and groaned, glancing at her brother-in-law again. "He has requested that I wear emerald green. That it will "compliment the fairness of my skin and the gold in my eyes."" She read Tristan's writing with narrowed eyes.

Elijah laughed to himself and smacked the invitation lightly against his hand. "What does Niklaus have to say about that?"

"Oh... he's said plenty." She replied with a pointed look on her face and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Am I to assume he's forbidden you from attending?" Elijah asked with a snarky tone, sitting down on one of the benches.

"Not in the slightest. In fact, he encouraged it." Ingrid answered honestly, debating on letting him on her plans with Marcel. "It looks like you and I are going to have to stop fighting for a night because we're going to a gala." She said with a wide, amused smile as Elijah looked displeased and full of dread.

The Strix party was in full swing, complete with formally-dressed members wearing masquerade masks and burlesque dancers dressed in the style of the flappers from the 1920s. There were humans in attendance as well, most of whom were being fed on by the various members of The Strix. Aya, dressed in a silver gown, noticed Marcel entering the ballroom and put on her mask as she made her way over to greet him. "Marcel! Welcome."

Marcel smiled warmly at Aya and removed his own mask so he could see her properly. Aya smiled and lowered her mask as well. "I admire your confidence. Please, allow me to make some introductions."

Marcel politely held out his arm, which she gladly took before leading him where the guests were mingling as they watched the nearby dancers. Caterers wearing white masks passed around flutes of champagne and the two past by a table where two female vampires were feeding on a blonde human woman, whom Marcel seemed to recognize. "Is that...?" He asked in surprise.

"One of our more famous faces. We count amongst our society celebrated actors, artists, politicians... Of course, most of us prefer to live a life outside of the public eye. That doesn't make our talents any less impressive." Aya explained with a smile, staring up at him as they continued to walk around the ballroom.

Just then, Ingrid and Elijah arrived to the party, arm in arm, and stopped in the doorway as they took in the environment. Their arrival seemed to generate quite a bit of attention, as many of the guests began staring at them curiously. Ingrid did exactly as requested and wore an emerald green evening gown that hugged her curves. The neck line was plunging to accentuate her cleavage and was adorned with long, lace sleeves. Her brunette hair was elegantly pulled up on top of her head as gold earring hung down from her ear lobes. She paired her ensemble with a gold masquerade mask and gold scrappy heels.

Elijah smirked to himself and whispered lowly. "You may have went a tad bit too much."

Laughing and rolling her eyes, Ingrid allowed Elijah to lead her through the crowd and whispered back. "You don't like it?" She questioned, motioning toward herself.

"I don't think this is what Niklaus had in mind when he encouraged you to attend." Elijah argued with a pointed, yet amused, look on his face.

"Well lucky for him, I get to come home to him looking like this so he actually gets the fun end of the night." Ingrid remarked in a suggestive manner earning a disgusted groan from Elijah.

Music continued to play as Aya and Marcel walked through the party and talked more about The Strix. "It's quite like your city's own beloved masquerade. Beneath the disguise, the poor become rich, and the rich? Well, they can do anything they please. We're the top of the food chain-- the smartest, the strongest. And, we take what we want."

Marcel rolled his eyes at her dramatics and smirked. "And now you want me."

Aya smiled while scanning the crowd. "Tristan has been a collector of extraordinary talent for the better part of a millennium. He chooses the best of the best and helps them evolve."

"Tristan wants to help me reach my full potential, is that right?" Marcel questioned warily, remembering Ingrid's warnings.

Aya nodded with a smile, paying Marcel a series of compliments in an attempt to win him over. "You're clever, bold, a talented strategist... And, should you join us, you'd be the very first member sired not from Elijah, but from Klaus. Marcel, we think you could help us bridge the gap between sirelines and finally put this war to bed." She smirked and walked closer to him until their faces were only inches apart. "That is, if you are, in fact, everything we hope you to be." She whispered, leaning in closer as though she was about to kiss him, but pulled away with another smirk and turned to walk away, leaving Marcel both curious and confused.

The night continued on and Marcel found Aya again amongst the attendees. She turned toward a serious-looking man standing on the outskirts of the ballroom and offered introductions. "Marcel, I'd like you to meet my mentor, Mohinder. He taught me everything I know about combat."

Marcel smiled and held out his right hand to Mohinder. "Oh, if that's the case, then I am impressed!"

Unfortunately for Marcel, Mohinder just glanced down at Marcel's hand before giving him a look, not extending his own to shake them in greeting.

Feeling awkward, Marcel clenched his hand into a fist and pulled it away. "Intense guy."

Aya, sensing the tension, took Marcel's hand in her own and lead him away. "As part of his discipline, he drinks only the blood of vampires he's vanquished in combat. He can go weeks without feeding, yet suffer no effects of hunger, such is his control over body and mind."

Marcel turned his head and to see Elijah and Ingrid dancing to the music across the room. He noticed Ingrid looking displeased and Elijah staring back at him. Marcel looked over at Aya with a tense expression and shook his head. "What are they doing here?" He questioned angrily, pretending to not know they were supposed to be in attendance.

Aya glanced at her sire and the hybrid with an off look before glancing up at Marcel again.

Elijah narrowed his eyes and sneered quietly. "I should have known. This isn't a party. It's an initiation." He informed Ingrid and looked down at her. Elijah studied her reaction for a moment before coming to a realization. "You knew." He commented gruffly while pulling away from her and licking his lips.

"Hmm..." She mused lowly and let go of him completely. "Perhaps."

Just then, a row of caterers with trays of champagne flutes walked into the room and tapped their glasses with butter knives to get the attention of the party as Tristan, dressed in a fine suit, made his arrival to the gathering known. "Distinguished friends, welcome. It's so rare that we're able to come together like this to revel for one night in the company of true equals." He said, raising his glasses and glancing at each of the guests in the eye. When he caught Ingrid's eyeline, his breath hitched in his throat and he become captivated by her for a brief moment. Collecting himself, he smiled and gestured toward Marcel. "Now, I'd like to take a moment to welcome a very special guest-- Marcel Gerard."

Marcel took a step forward and nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd clapped their hands in applause. "Thank you. I'm honored. Thank you."

Tristan smiled kindly and waited for the applause to die down. "Of course, before we tell Marcel all of our secrets, there's one small piece of business to which we must first attend. We must determine his worth."

Marcel frowned in confusion before laughing. "That's funny... I seem to recall you being the one knocking on my door." He pointed out, walking straight toward Tristan.

Tristan smirked at him, amused, and met him halfway. "You'll notice, Mr. Gerard, that over the course of the evening, someone has managed to take something quite dear to you... Your daylight ring."

Marcel looked down at his hand and realized that his daylight ring had vanished from his right middle finger. He frowned worriedly, not knowing what to expect, while Tristan continued with his spiel. "The test is quite simple. First, you need to deduce the identity of the thief. Then, you are simply to take back what is yours... Although, I doubt the prize will be easily relinquished. After all, despite our refinement, we're still a rather violent bunch." He admitted, gesturing around him.

Marcel gulped nervously, but maintained his composure as Tristan finished outlining his test. "In victory, you become one of us. In failure, you meet your death. You have a few hours until dawn. I wish you the best of luck."

When everyone returned to their mingling, Marcel rushed straight toward Ingrid with a worried and panicked look on his face. "What the hell am I going to do?"

Setting her drink down, Ingrid grabbed ahold of his shoulders and rubbed his arms soothingly. "I told you. You have to play their game. You can do this and even if you don't think you can, you have to because you have no other choice." She stated in a serious tone, squeezing his arms in encouragement and grabbing her drink again.

"How?" He questioned in exasperation.

Pondering this for moment, Ingrid smirked deviously and pointed a finger at him. "I've got a plan but you have to trust me."

"Of course I do." Marcel replied instantly, not a hint of deception in his voice

Elijah stormed up to them with an angry frown but before he could scold them, Tristan walked over to them with a smile. "Elijah! When I sent your invitation, I didn't dare think you'd come. Tell me-- as our founder and patriarch, what do you make of our latest candidate?"

Elijah pretended to think about it and smirked sarcastically. "Well, let me see. Marcel... He's arrogant. He's stubborn. Prone to self-aggrandizement. He should fit in perfectly!" He commented earning himself a glare from Ingrid and Marcel.

"If he survives." Tristan added then noticed Ingrid's angry sneer. "I take it Mr. Gerard is a friend of yours?"

"Actually, Marcellus is family." Ingrid responded with a proud smile and took note of Tristan's smile faltering. "I do not appreciate your lack of faith in him."

"Allow me to remedy that, and, in doing so, I can explain our methods." Tristan requested, holding out his hand in an invitation to dance. Ingrid glanced down at his hand then back up at him, unimpressed. "Please. Just one dance... I'm sure Niklaus wouldn't mind."

Ingrid groaned and rolled her eyes in aggravation, staring an annoyed glance at Elijah, before taking Tristan's hand. "After you."

"My pleasure." Tristan placed a kiss on her knuckles and lead them to the dance floor.

When they were gone, Elijah turned to Marcel in concern. "I could have warned you."

Marcel sighed heavily and looked at him with a straight face. "Look, I didn't tell you I was coming tonight because--"

"--I wouldn't have allowed it." Elijah interrupted him knowingly.

Marcel smiled fakely, clearly annoyed by this response. "Yeah. There's that word-- "allowed." You know, I thought I'd earned the right to be considered an equal, but that's not the way it works in your family. Ingrid is the only one who sees me as an equal. Which is why... this was her idea." Marcel admitted causing Elijah to gape at him in surprise. "Yeah... take it up with her if there's a problem. But, it's time I consider my options. If nothing else, The Strix aren't interested in me as a sidekick."

"These options, as you describe them, are a death sentence." Elijah replied incredulously then sighed dramatically. "I suppose I shall have to intervene. It is a shame-- I expect it shall ruin my tuxedo. I have had this suit for over a hundred years. It's proven far more reliable than you, Marcellus."

"Yeah? Do that and Ingrid will put you on your ass." Marcel sneered angrily before letting out a deep breath and calming down. "Relax, all right? I got this under control."

"Do you?" Elijah questioned quickly in skepticism.

"I hope so." Marcel patted Elijah on the shoulder with a smirk before turning to walk away. "That is a nice jacket." He complimented while walking away.

On the dance floor, Tristan had a hand placed on the small of Ingrid's back with the other holding one of her hands. She continued to remove her hand from his shoulder to reposition his hand further up her back while shooting him a warning glare. "Keep your hands above my waist or I will walk away."

Laughing, Tristan stared into her dark brown eyes and kept his hand where she set it. "Still a spitfire, I see." He commented adoringly and intertwined their fingers. "So tell me... what endeavors fall under your belt for the last millennium?"

"Well, let's see..." She trailed off, pretending to think about it. "I spent over nine hundred years locked away in a coffin."

"Niklaus daggering his own wife?" Tristan mused in surprise and spun her around before bringing her back to his chest. "What a betrayal that must have been?"

"Hmm." She mumbled with an unamused look. "If you intended to bad mouth Niklaus the entire time, I suggest against it. However, if you choose to proceed, it would be of no new information."

"Right..." Tristan trailed off with a bitter smile and pressed closer to her causing Ingrid to become uncomfortable. "Well, then let me assure you that I intend to show you exactly the man your husband is."

"In what? Some ill attempted manner to win my affections?" She questioned in annoyance then shook her head. "Have I not made it clear enough? I am not some prize to be won. But regardless, you've already lost. Compared to Niklaus, you will always lose."

Suddenly, Klaus entered the room with Lucien and a large group of Halloween-costumed women. Klaus howled drunkenly like a wolf as Lucien and the women all laughed happily, attracting the attention of everyone in the room to the point where everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at the gate-crashers.

Ingrid stifled a laugh and pulled away from Tristan, who was glaring furiously at the intruders.

Lucien swayed on his feet while holding a few of the women close to him. "My God, it's a room full of Elijahs."

Klaus drunkenly leaned against them some of the women by wrapping his arms around their shoulders. "I had that exact same nightmare once!"

The group all laughed hysterically as Lucien turned to one of the women, who was dressed in a fuchsia corset and matching bobbed wig. "Go and grab us a drink, love! Feel free to fetch one for yourself."

"One for me, please! And one for her, and her, and her, and her..." Klaus ordered, slurring his words, and she walked way as commanded.

"Tristan? Tristan!" Both Klaus and Lucien called out loudly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Unless, of course, you're afraid!" They taunted while laughing hysterically.

Klaus noticed Tristan getting too comfortable with his wife and bellowed angrily. "Get away from her!"

Tristan, looking extremely unhappy, turned to Ingrid and whispered lowly. "I'm sorry. Please excuse me, my love." He pardoned himself politely.

Ingrid let out a breath of relief and shuddered in disgust. Klaus watched her grimace from Tristan's proximity then her delight when he walked away

Tristan made his way straight for Klaus and Lucien and gave them a patronizing smile. "You should, uh, move along. You're not welcome here."

Klaus turned toward his group with a sad frown and a nod of his head. "Oh. Oh, okay. We're-we're not welcome here..." he laughed mockily and plucked a champagne flute from the nearest serving platter before walking up to Tristan and slurring drunkenly at him. "Or maybe you should move along before I make you cry in front of all your little friends!" He retorted back with another laugh and walked around Tristan, heading toward Ingrid.

Ingrid met Klaus halfway and beamed up at him in affection. "Hello, my love. I think you've had enough of this." She remarked with a smile and took his glass away. "Yeah, I think we're done with that, yes?"

Klaus grabbed her hand and spun her around repeatedly while growling seductively. He studied her appearance and smirked widely. "I haven't had enough of you." He slurred suggestively and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Tristan watched with a deep frown as burning jealous started to boil over inside. "My concern is for your companions. They appear out of sorts without a shiny pole to writhe upon." He commented in amusement, motioning to the women as he spoke.

Lucien looked over at the woman dressed as a skeleton bride and drunkenly spoke. "Ohhhhhh, he's suggesting that you're exotic dancers! Which, to him, is an insult--" Lucien then gestured toward the burlesque dancers, who stopped working in favor of watching the drama unfold. "--If not hypocritical. But, don't take it personally, love. He finds all work demeaning. The only dignified way to accumulate wealth is by birth." He smiled at Tristan and leaned forward, extending his index finger and tapping Tristan on the end of the nose. "Boop!" Klaus, and Ingrid, couldn't resist laughing hysterically at this as Lucien continued. "Isn't that right, Tristan? Hmm?" He then clapped Tristan on the shoulders with his hands.

Elijah, having seen enough of this scene, called out to his brother from afar. "Niklaus."

"What is it?" Klaus turned in an ungraceful manner to try to find the source of the voice until Ingrid turned him in the proper direction. "Ahhh. Thank you, darling."

Elijah walked over to join his family and rolled his eyes with a patronizing smirk. "Oh, you're hammered. Which should come as very little surprise to anyone here, but it does hamper the festivities somewhat. So, could I recommend that you find the nearest exit?" He leaned in to whisper into Klaus' ear and pointed a finger toward the door.

Ingrid placed a hand on Elijah's upper arm and smiled. "I've got him." She reassured, patting Klaus on the back and speaking in a clear voice. "Alright, honey. Let's go."

Klaus stumbled on his feet while whispering quietly. "Just..." he trailed off, grabbing his glass from Ingrid and trying to drink more.

"Yes, and could you take your playthings with you, too?" Elijah asked patiently causing Klaus to laugh.

Klaus' smile fell and he shoved his champagne glass into Elijah's hands before staggering farther into the ballroom. By the expression on her husband's face, Ingrid knew he felt insulted by Elijah's tone and frowned.

From the other side of the room, Mohinder was watching silently, seemingly unimpressed by Klaus' antics.

Klaus made his way to the middle of the dance floor and scoffed with a shake of his head. "You know, I used to find it insulting that I was barred from your special little club. But now, I realize that I lack the flexibility to become a member-- I could never get my head far enough up my own ass." Klaus bowed dramatically and laughed as Ingrid placed a finger to her lips, trying to contain her laughter.

Tristan and Elijah exchanged annoyed glances and Lucien and their companions were delighted by Klaus' behavior. Klaus walked back over to Elijah and took the glass from his hand before downing the rest of the champagne in one gulp.

Afterward, Klaus made a disgusted face at Tristan and remarked on the champagne. "Cheap." He sneered with a disappointed sigh and handed the empty glass to him. Klaus turned to address Lucien and the others and insulted everyone. "Come on. Let's go. This party's dead anyway." He laughed mockily then leaned over and grabbed Ingrid by the throat, squeezing lightly, and kissed her passionately on the lips in front of Tristan.

She immediately melted into the embrace and kissed back, holding onto his sides for support. He pulled away, leaving her starstruck and in awe, and pointed a finger at her with a smirk. "I'll see you at home."

He, Lucien, and their possee then turned to leave, howling and laughing loudly as they did so. Ingrid placed a hand on her throat with a giddy and an intoxicated smile on her face. Tristan noticed this reaction and stared at the spot where Klaus stood in rage and heartbreak.

Later on, Marcel and Ingrid were standing very close to one another at the bar with their backs turned to the rest of the party. After a moment, Aya, Mohinder, and some other members of the Strix approached them and they turned turn to face the Strix.

"If you'd please come with us, Mr. Gerard..." Aya requested in formality.

Marcel took a deep breath as Mohinder stared at him. Aya turned and lead Marcel and the rest of the leading members of The Strix to a room upstairs. The rest of the party, intrigued by what was to come, followed them up, including Ingrid. Once in the room, they found Tristan and some other members standing there, waiting for them.

"Mr. Gerard! It's time." Tristan said cheerfully.

Marcel glanced at him, confused and nervous. "You're pushing up the clock? I have another hour."

"And I'm afraid that an inability to improvise is the most common of failings. Either you have an answer, or you don't." Tristan replied in a dull tone, hinting at what was to come.

Marcel paused a moment to look at everyone in the room before finally giving his answer. "Aya. Aya took my ring."

Aya looked at Marcel in amusement and shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I don't have your ri--"

Marcel cut her off before she could finish and smiled triumphantly. "Hold up! I said you took it. I didn't say you still have it. See, after you lifted it off me, you gave it to my man Mohinder over there."

Mohinder silently held up Marcel's daylight ring and when Tristan turned around to see if it was true, he saw the ring and looked pleased by Marcel's deductions. "Well done! Of course, as you know, that was only half the challenge." Tristan walked past Marcel and clapped him on the shoulder affectionately as Aya followed behind him.

When Aya joined Tristan on the other side of the room, making space for Mohinder and Marcel to fight, Tristan leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Let's see how he does." Tristan saw Ingrid from the corner of his eye and sighed heavily.

Meanwhile, Mohinder and Marcel were in the middle of unbuttoning their suit jackets in preparation for Marcel to fight to get his ring back. "There's no shame in dying at the hands of one's superior."

Marcel smirked and tilted his head to the side. "There's not much glory in it, either."

Mohinder stripped off his jacket, and Marcel bounced on his heels for a moment to psych himself up before throwing two consecutive punches, each of which hit Mohinder in the face. However, when Marcel kicked him in the stomach, Mohinder grabbed him by the leg and threw him across the room, where he landed on a table and smashed it into pieces.

Ingrid, looking terrified, shoved her way to the front of the crowd and appeared as though she wanted to intervene but knew she couldn't. Elijah followed closely behind her and the two stood next to Tristan and Aya.

Marcel threw off all of the broken table pieces that landed on him from the impact and turned to find Mohinder standing above him, looking mildly pleased by his quick victory.

Marcel sped to his feet, grabbed one of the broken table legs, and backhanded Mohinder in the face with it, grunting from the exertion.

Mohinder grabbed Marcel in a choke-hold, and Marcel, alarmed, desperately punched at Mohinder's chest in an attempt to get free. Mohinder then gripped Marcel by the shoulders and head-butted him before throwing him through the brick wall behind them, causing him to land on the floor of the next room.

Mohinder climbed through the hole in the wall and lunged for Marcel, who continued to punch him, only to be shoved face-first into a large shelf full of dishes. When Mohinder grabbed Marcel, spinning him around so they were facing each other, Marcel grabbed a martini shaker and smashed it against Mohinder's head several times.

Mohinder once again grabbed Marcel in a choke-hold and pinned him against the shelf. Marcel, desperate, grabbed an ice scoop and smashed it against Mohinder as well. While he was distracted, Marcel grabbed a frying pan with his free hand and used both to hit Mohinder multiple times across the face.

Unfortunately, Mohinder grabbed him by the wrists and snapped his arms, causing Marcel to roar in pain before he was thrown against the shelf so hard that he smashed it into pieces.

Mohinder saw a broken piece of wood that would make a good stake and grabbed it before pulling the groaning Marcel to his feet in a choke-hold. However, before he could stake him, Marcel mustered up all the strength he has and tackled Mohinder so hard that they once again broke through the wall, back into the room, where they landed at an entertained Tristan and Aya's feet. Ingrid was nervously chewing on her thumbnail while Elijah watched in concern.

Marcel saw that Mohinder dropped the stake and crawled across the broken bricks and wood to grab it, but Mohinder noticed him and kicked him so hard he rolled sideways away from the stake. Marcel kicked Mohinder to give him the time necessary to stand to his feet and began punching Mohinder hard in the face over and over again until Mohinder threw Marcel into a nearby table, smashing that as well.

Finally, Mohinder pulled the weakened Marcel up to his feet and sunk his fangs into Marcel's neck, feeding deeply.

Elijah looked extremely concerned and was about to intervene when Ingird grabbed ahold of his arms, stopping him. Elijah looked at Ingrid in confusion, but she just subtly shook her head and whispered. "Wait."

Mohinder fed on Marcel for a long moment before he pulled away and sped Marcel against the wall, pinning him by the throat and holding up the stake in preparation to kill him. "You fought with honor. Embrace the nobility of this end."

"I will if you will." Marcel remarked weakly then raised an eyebrow. "Or do you still not know?" Tristan and Aya looked at them curiously, intrigued by where Marcel was going with this. Marcel chuckled weakly and smirked. "You must have tasted it in my blood."

Just then, Mohinder began to look uncomfortable and groaned slightly as he wobbled on his feet.

"Oh, now you're starting to feel it, aren't you? That burning sensation in your gut? Wolf's venom." Marcel explained with a victorious smile. "A going-away gift from me. I may not have beaten you, but you lost all the same." Mohinder continued to squirm uncomfortably, gagging slightly from the venom but still holdingarcel against the wall. "I suggest you make your peace. We're both dead men walking."

Mohinder became furious at this news and snarled. "A desperate ploy! A lie!" He bellowed loudly, turning to look at Tristan.

Marcel lifted up the sleeve of his left arm and held it up so he could see the weeping bite wound on his arm. It was a bite mark in the shape of a wolf with dual fangs. This stunned Mohinder as Marcel laughed weakly in amusement.

Everyone turned toward Ingrid, who smirked and flashed her golden-amber eyes at them. Elijah then glanced at his sister-in-law in amazement.

Marcel was still laughing at Mohinder when he spun them around, pinning Mohinder against the wall. Marcel aimed the stake at Mohinder's own heart before addressing him and the rest of the room. "I don't know why they want you dead, but clearly they do." Marcel finally let go of Mohinder and turned to Aya and Tristan. "Why else tell me all about his little feeding habits, or give me a taste of his technique when you came into my gym the other day? All I had to do was be observant."

Tristan and Aya looked at Marcel with interest but Marcel just looked annoyed. "But, I'm done picking up your bread crumbs. You want him dead? You're gonna have to do it yourself. As far as I can see, the only thing he's done to deserve it is picking his friends poorly."

Marcel, getting even weaker from his injuries that couldn't heal as a result of his hybrid bite, stumbled on his feet only to be caught by Ingrid. "Hey, hey... I've got you." She wrapped her arms under his arms and held him close while he harshly coughed up blood.

Tristan shared a significant smile with Aya and walked over to Mohinder, who was also getting weak from the werewolf venom and looked horrified by this revelation. Mohinder started to spit up blood as Tristan cupped his face with his hand and looked at him sympathetically before patting him on the shoulder and walking past him.

Mohinder had a small sliver of hope that he might be spared until Tristan ripped out his heart from behind, causing him to fall dead to the floor. Tristan dropped the heart onto the floor with a disappointed look then suddenly smiled. "You chose well! Now, I assure you, he did deserve it. He's been plotting unspeakable crimes against his sworn brothers and sisters. Of course, you couldn't have known. Beating such a worthy opponent is proof of your strength and courage, but your restraint, your refusal to kill without cause, demonstrates a rare integrity. You see, Marcel Gerard... This was the test." Tristan bent down to pick up Marcel's daylight ring out of Mohinder's pocket and handed it to him. "Welcome to The Strix." Tristan took notice of Marcel's increasingly weakened state as he hung onto Ingrid and smiled proudly. "Provided, of course, you survive your own gambit."

Ingird immediately bit into her wrist and offered it to Marcel and he took it without a moments hesitation.

Later on, Ingrid and Marcel had made it back to the compound, where they and Klaus, who was still intoxicated, discussed the evening's events. Klaus was seated at his desk, leaning back against his chair and drinking a glass of wine. He turned toward Marcel in annoyance. "I bet they were all so impressed, weren't they? Hmm, your new mates? Positively taken by your boldness, your cunning wit, and your steely resolve. And you just assumed that I would be willing-- eager, even-- to drain the blood from my veins in the aftermath." He snarled in aggravation, standing up from his chair and pacing the room.

"There is no need for that Niklaus." Ingrid replied in a dull tone. "I've already done so."

Marcel remained silent, leaning against the wall, while Klaus rolled his eyes and walked toward him. "We cannot tell friend from foe, and what are you doing? You're pledging a fraternity run by those conspiring against us!" He snapped angrily.

Marcel sighed heavily and straightened his posture. "My interest in The Strix is because of you. But since you want to throw a Klaus-style temper tantrum, just know this was all Ingrid's idea." Klaus looked surprised by this confession but Marcel continued on in a stern tone. "I don't get to choose sides. Whoever comes for you, comes for me. That's all I need to know."

Klaus pursed his lips, nodding his head slowly for a moment before sighing. "Yes, whoever comes for me may very well come for you. But, they may also come through you, Marcellus. Remember that."

Marcel nodded in understanding, gulping in slight fear, then walked out of the room, leaving the compound entirely. Ingrid watched him leave and looked at Klaus, who had an amused smirk across his face. He walked toward her while pointing a finger. "You've got some explaining to do, my love."

---
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