✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

"How long have you known Klaus?" Marcel and her were walking together through a square in the French Quarter the next day, the streets packed with people so they could have a private conversation. "He seemed . . . well, he seemed like he cares about you, Talia."

She smiled faintly, her dark eyes washing over the crowd around them. "Thirty years. I'm not a vampire or a witch, I just . . . it's a long story, to be honest. He's my soulmate, or he was. But then some things happened and the bond got cut and I was dying. I'm still dying." She felt her nose scrunch, silently cursing herself for telling him so much, but Marcel wasn't going to hurt her. At least, not yet. If it came down to her or the city, he would choose the city. But, Marcel wouldn't let it come to that. "A witch put a spell on me to slow down the aging, since once the bond was cut I lost access to his immortality and the aging sped up. The spell isn't as powerful as nature, though, and I'm still going to die of old age in just a few months. Nine or ten, I think." She scratched the back of her neck, sighing softly. "Klaus won't repair the bond, he's a selfish bastard."

Marcel squeezed her shoulder, giving her a waning smile. "Elijah taught me about the soulmate bond centuries ago. Basic supernatural history, he told me it was a myth. I've never met another pair of soulmates, I'm sorry the bond was cut." He sighed, rubbing his scalp and shaking his head slowly. "It's ironic that the most evil man on earth is your soulmate. I'd've expected his soulmate to be some evil witch, like the evil witch from Little Mermaid." Marcel elbowed her lightly, causing a laugh to escape her.

"Wow, so you're a Disney fan, huh?" She smirked at his, interlocking their hands. "You seem more like a Marvel fan, to be honest."

"Yeah, Captain America is cool. I really like Black Panther, though," Marcel shrugged, pressing his lips to the side of her head as they came to a stop near some shop stands. "You?"

"Iron Man, duh." Talia peered over at the stands, smiling wider when she realized it was a palm-reading stall. "Let's get our palms read."

Marcel studied the woman behind the table, his lips tugging downwards. "That's one of the witch elders, she hates me."

Talia shrugged, beginning to walk over. "You are the one not letting her coven do magic. Come on, Gerard, it won't be that bad."

She settled down at the table, smiling softly at the older woman on the other side. "Hi, I'd love to get our palms read?"

The woman, Agnes, looked first at her and then coldly looked over at Marcel. "No."

"Come on, Agnes, you can't deny business due to your biases. You don't even have to read my palms, just Talia's."

Agnes looked to Talia, her dark eyes narrowing before she tapped the table. "Hands, girl."

The Monroe swallowed and looked over at Marcel before looking back at Agnes and slowly putting her hands out. Agnes grabbed Talia's hands tightly, peering down at her palms before slowly beginning to read them. "Love at a young age . . . but, no family. No family in the future, either. You made a big decision, recently, but not a good one. Your life line is short . . . death is in your future."

Agnes dropped her hands and looked to Marcel. "Twenty bucks."

The vampire rolled his eyes and placed a twenty on the table, helping Talia up and moving her away from the angry witch. "That was eerily accurate," the Companion sighed and moved closer to Marcel who shrugged.

"She's a liar, Talia. I've gotta go, I have to go deal with more Mikaelson drama. Have fun, okay?" He kissed her forehead and waved, disappearing into the crowd.

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Talia rapped her fist against the white door of the old Governor's home, her free hand casually dusting off her black jeans. The door swung open, revealing a pretty brunette with gold highlights lightly dyed into the brown curls. She had large, doe brown eyes and full pink lips, a round face and a lean, curvy figure.

The girl was pale, but that didn't take away her beauty. She was staring at Talia in confusion, her eyebrows knit together. "Who are you?"

"Talia Monroe, who are you?" The Companion studied the girl's clothing which consisted of only comfy things. A loose, white t-shirt and black leggings plus bare feet.

The girl frowned, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. "Hayley Marshall. You're Klaus's friend."

Talia lifted a curious eyebrow, her gaze roaming over the girl's face. "I've never heard of you, is Nik here?"

Hayley shook her head, her arms dropping from their crossed position and her hand rested on her stomach. "No. He's with Marcel, trying to convince him to let him get Elijah back."

Talia frowned, rubbing her forehead. "What do you mean 'get Elijah back'? What did Nik do? Also, who are you?"

"He gave Elijah to Marcel as a peace offering or some messed up thing like that. Rebekah is looking for him, so I'm the only one here. Some cheap booze and a bad decision later and here I am." Hayley feigned a thin smile, looking down at her flat stomach. "Let me reintroduce myself, I'm Hayley Marshall, the werewolf that Klaus knocked up."

The Companion laughed loudly, lifting her index as she tried to regain her breath. "Try again, vampires can't impregnate others."

"Mm, well if I was lying then the witches are freaked out over nothing," the girl challenged with a snarl, her hand placed protectively over her stomach.

It wasn't hard to believe that maybe Klaus did knock up the girl in front of her. That didn't help quell the rage she was feeling towards her soulmate, either.

Talia directed her attention to the brunette's abdomen and sighed, her dark eyes fluttering closed. "Of course Klaus did that. I'm surprised the place isn't surrounded by bodyguards, but then again Klaus murdered all his hybrids." Talia scratched the back of her neck, a faint sigh escaping her lips. "How're you faring? Being his baby producer and all."

Hayley's nose scrunched in distaste, her dark eyes on Talia. "I'm - I don't really know. It's been a long few weeks. You're dating Marcel, right? Klaus has been really mad about that."

"I would hardly call it dating. He's . . . wooing me, sort of. I like him, though. He's very charming, probably means I should run for the hills. What about you, any men in your life besides that blond twat that impregnated you." Talia waved her hand to indicate the wolf's stomach and Hayley looked down.

"No, I don't have the best of luck with men, if that isn't obvious." Hayley sighed, settling down on the stairs. "So, what do you define your relationship with Marcel? Klaus's worst enemy and current best friend, or whatever."

"It's, well, no idea. I like you, Hayley." Talia kicked at the rug with her beloved Louboutins, a faint sigh escaping her. "You're not as annoying as Klaus's other lovers."

Hayley chuckled, her voice light as she peered at Talia. "Trust me, I'm not his 'lover'. So, are you going to the party Marcel is throwing tonight?"

The Companion tilted her head, curiosity filling her like a bubble. "No, I had no idea. Should I? He might be sick of me at this point."

"Do it, make him regret ever having slept with any other women in his entire life," the werewolf winked and Talia laughed, nodding as she began to head to the door. "Then, come back and tell me everything." Hayley had a large, charming smile and a pretty face, making it easy for the Monroe to trust her.

"Alright, I'll be seeing you, little wolf."

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Dressed in a black wrap dress and her hair loosely curled, Talia tugged on her beautiful Louboutins and pulled a black purse over her shoulder. A cross-body bag that hung next to her hip, small enough to blend with the outfit and not be chunky, large enough to fit her phone, wallet and Marcel's apartment keys.

She grabbed a black, feathered masquerade mask and studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Perfect.

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Klaus Mikaelson's pale gaze lifted from the party decorations and dancers as a certain someone entered the party.

Talia's brown hair was lightly curled, tumbling down her back like a waterfall. Her face was adorned with a beautiful mask and she wore her usual six-inch heels. The v-line dress dipped downwards, showing off more cleavage than he had ever seen her wear.

He couldn't keep his eyes off her, but Rebekah's proud smile made a frown pull on his lips. "You arranged for her to come?"

"What better way to distract Marcel than to put his very human new girl into a room chock-full of vampires?" Rebekah smiled widely, her blue eyes dancing with humor. "Her life is no longer attached to yours, Nik. No need to worry anymore about her."

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Talia's gaze moved from the dancers with their albino pythons to the blue lights and the guests in their stunning costumes. Though, multiple pairs of eyes had been drawn to the Monroe the moment she entered the room.

She looked up as Rebekah approached, a massive and suspiciously innocent smile presented to the brunette. "Hello, darling, don't you look precious." Rebekah reached forward, tucking a strand of her dark hair back into place.

Klaus slowly approached behind, playing with the masquerade mask in his hands. "Rebekah is right, Talia, you look stunning."

Talia chewed on the inside of her cheek, studying her soulmate. "You clean up pretty well yourself." She feigned being polite, not wanting to discuss the secret pregnancy in case there we're listening ears, and there were always listening ears. She studied his black suit and lightly combed hair, recalling a thousand black-tie events they had attended in the past.

"Well, don't be fooled, love. I'm the devil in disguise." He had a wide smile that set off butterflies in her stomach and her heart skipped a beat, something he definitely noticed.

Klaus always caught every way her body reacted to him and without being able to use the bond as an excuse, it only improved his ego. "I could never think otherwise, Nik. I met Hayley, what a charmer." Her dark eyes narrowed and she saw the smile fall from his face, replaced by something akin to guilt. "I'm gonna - well, I need booze." She turned, moving away from him before all oxygen could leave her lungs.

Had he gotten hotter? Was that even possible?

Rebekah followed after her, her arm winding around Talia's waist and pulling her to a stop. The vampire's lips ghosted near her ear, pausing the Monroe. "Talia, you're my family, so I will always protect you, but I can't protect you from your own mistakes. Speaking of, every guest here is a vampire and you're the only human, be careful." The blonde kissed Talia's cheek as if greeting her like an old friend. "Go to the bathroom, drink this vervain. It'll make your blood not as delicious as it smells at the moment. I'll get you a scotch."

Talia nodded, shooting her friend a grateful smile as she turned, heading to the bathroom. Once she was inside, she unscrewed the capsule on the silver flask and downed the entire, sour-tasting thing.

God, vervain tasted horrible.

When she was done, she stuffed it in her purse and returned to the party just as Rebekah was walking away from Marcel, holding two scotches.

Rebekah came over, passing the amber drink to her and winking before disappearing back into the crowd just as Marcel began approaching. "Talia."

"Hey, killer party." The brunette smiled easily, lifting the drink to her lips. "You don't seem to want me here, though. Too bad, can't seem to lose me, Gerard." She adjusted his collar and he smiled widely, his eyes lit up. He really had a handsome smile. "You have a pretty smile," she blurt out before she could stop herself, her cheeks heating up almost immediately.

Marcel laughed, his head ducking before he met her gaze again. "You look amazing tonight. I would've invited you, but it's a work thing and I didn't want you . . ."

"You do your thing, Marcel, I can do my own." She pressed her lips to his cheek, going to head into the crowd but his hand caught hers, twisting her around so she faced him.

"And leave you alone looking the way you do? Hell with that." His hand squeezed hers as he pulled her closer. "Dance with me, Monroe."

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Marcel spun her across the dancefloor before pulling her back, his hand on her back as his other held hers aloft while they danced. "Look at you, what a Gatsby figure you are." She looked around the beautiful compound, her eyes going to the dancers. "Rich, charismatic, immortal, a partier, a king . . . maybe I should be running, not dancing with you."

He chuckled, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you aren't.  You know," he twirled her again, his stance almost protective. Ready to catch her if she fell, "every King needs a Queen."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Marcel?" She returned to his arms, her smile at its usual wideness, though she felt giddy on the inside. She had never had a boyfriend, Klaus had made sure of that. "If so, your technique is shabby."

He pulled her tight, his lips near her ear. "I like you, Talia. I really like you, so . . . will you be mine? Is that better?" He brushed a loose strand of hair back from her ear as he slowly pulled back, leaving a few inches between their faces.

She could see Klaus over Marcel's shoulder. The intense look in his eyes as he stared at them, jealousy clear across his handsome face. Her attention redirected itself back to Marcel as she squeezed his hand tighter. "Yes."

He grinned, pulling her closer and kissed her as an explosion of butterflies blew in her stomach. Just as he was about to kiss her again, a man dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt with a messy afro appeared and Marcel pulled away as the man whispered into his ear.

She couldn't hear what he said, but she saw anger flash across her date's face and he sighed, meeting her dark gaze. "Excuse me." He kissed her cheek and left with the man, heading in the direction of a man wearing a silly cap.

She looked away, not wanting to spoil her own feelings for Marcel by seeing him beat the living crap out of his nightwalker. Her gaze met Klaus's and he looked smug. His doing.

She sighed, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair, beginning to slip into the crowd. She felt a hand on her arm and she looked up into the blue eyes of her soulmate. "What did you do?"

"What had to be done to a win this war, love."

Talia pushed off his hand, seething through her teeth. "There is no war, Nik, only your own petty jealousies making enemies for you." She studied his eyes, the light blue that could sense her every feeling. "Who are we? Who did I become?" She looked down at her hands, swallowing back the tears. "Thirty years ago I was an innocent girl, I never imagined that I would watch a war unfold and not do a single thing, even if I could stop it. I've become something horrible, but I can't blame you either. I am the one who controls myself." She placed her hand on the side of his face, feeling his scruff under her palm and he leaned his head into her touch, evident pain in his blue eyes as he let her speak for once. "When I die, Niklaus . . . know I don't regret meeting you or being your soulmate." She swallowed thickly, pressing her lips to the corner of his.

Heat filled her stomach, electricity crackled along every nerve ending in her body and made her heart explode. She felt heat all the way to the tips of her fingertips, butterflies swarming her torso until she couldn't breathe. "I love you, Nik, but I hate who we've become."

His fingers caught the edge of her dress, halting her in place. "Talia," his voice was pleading and low, that deep tone she had fallen in-love with a thousand times over, romantically and platonically. He finally sighed, pulling her close and pressing his lips to her forehead. "I love you."

She rested against his lips, feeling the exhaustion of thirty years seep out of her. "I'm gonna go, it's late and I don't want to be caught in the middle of a hundred vampires when dinner time comes."

"Good-bye, Lia," he whispered against her forehead and she smiled wanly, moving away from him without another word.

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

It was the witches that found her.

Alone, walking the streets of New Orleans with her face streaked with mascara, dark eyes swimming in tears. They surrounded her, dressed in dark clothes with cold eyes. "That's her." The old woman from earlier that day, Agnes, pointed a crooked finger in her direction. "The girl that was with Marcel. The separated soulmate."

She didn't know how they knew. Perhaps she and Klaus weren't as good at hiding it as they thought. She swallowed and stilled, her dark eyes roaming over the surrounding coven. Her hand lifted her throat, recalling that her necklace was still gone.

The Companion was unable to do anything as they locked handcuffs over her wrists, attached to chains that were held by Agnes. She hissed through her teeth when they took off her beloved Louboutins and left them in the middle of the street.

She followed along silently, aware that perhaps this was karma coming back to bite her in the ass.

"What do you want with me?" The Monroe finally croaked as they pulled her along, heading in the direction of the cemetery.

Agnes laughed and a few of the surrounding witches laughed too. "You're important to both Klaus and Marcel, sweetheart, and you're a separated soulmate. Do you know how rare you are? How powerful your blood is? Your blood could fuel any spell, therefore we won't be letting either Klaus or Marcel get their hands on you."

The Companion sneered, yanking on the chains that held her. "They'll come looking for me. They both will. You're just an old woman, they're vampires."

Agnes rolled her eyes, continuing to hobble along. "Silence, girl."

Talia ignored her, looking down at her hands bound in cuffs. She may not have her necklace, but she still had another resort. Her voice.

"Nik! Klaus! Help!" The words escaped her, she yelled as loudly as she could, straining her vocal chords but the witch next to her covered her mouth with their palm before she could say another thing.

Agnes cursed, urging the witches to walk faster until they got to the cemetery and dragged her in, pulling her between the rows, back and forth and right and left until Talia grew dizzy and lost track of how many turns they took.

The hands left her mouth, but were replaced by a bind as she was dragged down stairs and pulled along an ancient hallway, deep underground. Where no one could find her.

They locked her in a cell but kept the handcuffs and gag in, not giving her even the slightest chance of escape. The Companion sighed, they had left her wallet and phone but she had no service.

No way out, no way of communication, nothing.

The witches had covered their bases and the Monroe had been kidnapped, again.

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

His head shot up from the body of the witch, Katie, and he looked over at Klaus who stood a few feet away, a similar look on his face to Marcel.

They had both heard the same thing from a few streets over, the screams of someone shouting Klaus's name, desperation clear in their voice.

Marcel looked down at Thierry and the girl before nodding to his sire as his undead heart flipped in his chest. Talia was his girl, now, if someone kidnapped her it was a direct attack against him.

That meant war.

✧✶⭒☆⭒✶✧

Klaus came to a halt in the street, his gaze locking on a pair of heels in the middle of the street. Familiar heels . . . Talia's beloved Louboutins. She would never leave the shoes just around, she loved them far too much.

They were left as a message, a sign that they could and would hit him where it hurt. He lifted up the shoes, something silver glinting caught around the heel. Somehow, it hadn't fallen off.

A silver necklace with a beautiful moon pendant. His necklace he had given her in-case of an emergency. A necklace, that when she touched it and called his name, would show him her surroundings and let him know exactly where she was.

A necklace that had no use in his hands, not around her throat.

He fisted it, bringing it up to his lips and pressed them against the cold metal. "I will find you, Talia, if it's the last thing I do."