Chapter 18
The morning following the chaotic battle against the vampires from the Scorned was tense, heavy with the aftermath. The once vibrant atmosphere in the Mikaelson compound had turned quiet and somber, as everyone attempted to recover, both physically and emotionally, from the events that had transpired. Though their victory was hard-earned, the looming threat of the Scorned, and whatever else lay ahead, remained unresolved.
Marcel stood in the compound’s courtyard, surveying the scene with a frown etched deep into his features. The weight of responsibility was never more pressing, especially now that they were dangerously low on supplies. But there was something else, too; an ever-present sense of unease. They had been cooped up here for days, everyone watching their backs, waiting for the next strike, yet no one was making progress. They needed to get more information about the Scorned, their numbers, their plans, anything to get ahead of them.
His decision was firm, though not without its complications. He needed to call in reinforcements; more eyes, more hands, and certainly more brains to gather intel. He was ready to give the order when he felt a presence approach him from behind. It was Santana.
"I’ll go with them," Santana said before he could even open his mouth. She stood with her usual defiance, arms crossed over her chest, eyes steely with determination.
Marcel’s brow furrowed. "Not this time, Santana. It's too dangerous out there."
Santana's expression didn’t falter. "I’m sick of being locked up in this place like some kind of prisoner. I’m not just going to sit here while you all run around playing defense. If there’s a chance to get answers, I’m taking it."
Brittany, who had been silently observing from the doorway, stepped forward, her concern evident on her face. "Santana, please. It's not safe out there, and you know it."
Santana gave Brittany a reassuring smile, though there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Come on, Brit, what’s the worst that could happen? I promise I won’t go full Lima Heights on them unless I really have to."
Brittany’s brows furrowed, but before she could respond, Hayley walked into the room, followed by Davina, both of them hearing the conversation unfold.
"Let her go," Davina said, her voice surprisingly firm. "You can’t keep her locked up in here forever, Marcel. Besides, she has a point. You’ve got your people, but we need to know more about the Scorned, and if Santana wants to help, let her."
Marcel glanced at the younger witch with a raised brow, clearly taken aback by her bluntness. Hayley nodded in agreement, her usual tough exterior not giving way to any sign of doubt.
"Let her go," Hayley added, crossing her arms. "If she’s gonna be a part of this, she needs to be in the field, not stuck here."
Marcel shifted his weight, his mind clearly torn. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of sending Santana out with a group of his men, but at the same time, he knew they needed every advantage they could get. He sighed, exhaling in defeat.
"Fine. But you stay with my guys the entire time," he said, locking eyes with Santana. "No wandering off. I mean it."
Santana grinned, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "You don’t have to worry about me, Marcel. I’ll stick with your guys like glue. Besides, if anyone tries to mess with me, I’ll go all Lima Heights, and I’m sure they’ll reconsider."
Brittany didn’t share the same confidence, but before she could voice her concerns, Freya stepped forward. Her voice was calm but resolute, a reminder that they had more at stake than just Santana’s safety.
"Brittany, I know you’re worried," Freya said, her tone softening slightly. "But Santana’s right. She needs to get out there. We can't afford to keep her in here, and you can’t protect her from everything. Trust me, she can handle herself. Let her go, and we’ll make sure she gets back safe."
Brittany hesitated, clearly torn between her fear and trust in Santana. "I just... I don’t want anything happening to you," she said, her voice quieter now, vulnerable.
Santana’s face softened for a moment, her features more tender than usual. "I’ll be fine, Brit. I promise. I’ll be back before you know it, and I won’t let anything happen to me. And if I do... you’ll be the first to know. Deal?"
Brittany bit her lip, her eyes filled with emotion. "Deal."
With that, Santana left the compound with a small group of Marcel’s men. As they made their way through the streets of New Orleans, the city felt deceptively calm. The shops were closed, and the usual bustle of nightlife seemed muted. But underneath the surface, there was a sense of danger, a tension that never quite left.
The group made their way through the city, collecting supplies and quietly gathering information about the Scorned. At first, everything seemed calm. They were able to blend in, gather what they needed, and make their way back without much incident.
But as they passed through a narrow alleyway on their way back to the compound, the quiet was shattered.
The first sign of danger came without warning. A sharp noise, a hiss, and then the unmistakable sounds of movement. Santana’s instincts kicked in. She whirled around, her hands already finding the weapons she had hidden on her, ready to fight. The Scorned had ambushed them.
Before she could react, the first vampire lunged at her. She sidestepped the attack with a fluid motion, her arm swinging out to stake the vampire through the chest. Another came at her, but she moved faster, her training kicking in, and she dispatched them quickly. Her mind raced, her heart pounding, but she couldn’t afford to think about it. She had to protect the group.
Yet, despite her best efforts, the fight was going poorly. Marcel’s men, despite being seasoned vampires, were overpowered. One by one, they were killed, falling to the Scorned. The scene unfolded too quickly for Santana to process. She fought with everything she had, but there were just too many of them. One of Marcel’s men was caught by a Scorned vampire, his neck snapped in a brutal move, and before Santana could get to him, he was dead.
With the group decimated, Santana fought fiercely, but she was eventually overwhelmed. One of the Scorned vampires managed to get close enough to inject her with vervain, and the world around her spun. Her vision blurred, her body grew heavy, and before she could fight it, darkness claimed her.
Marcel paced the compound, his frustration growing with every passing minute. The reports were slow to come in, and there had been no word from Santana or his men for what felt like hours. He knew something was wrong.
When the door to the compound finally opened, it wasn’t Marcel’s men who walked through; it was one of them, but there was something off about him. He was staggering, weak, his eyes wide with fear.
The vampire spoke hoarsely, barely able to stand. "Marcel... they got her. The Scorned... they have Santana."
The words hit Brittany like a punch to the stomach. Her heart skipped a beat, and she rushed forward, her hands gripping the vampire’s shoulders. "What happened? Where is she? What did they do?"
"She fought them off," the vampire gasped, coughing. "But... but they overwhelmed us. We couldn’t stop them. She’s gone, but we... we’ll get her back."
Marcel turned to the Mikaelsons, his voice tight with anger and fear. "We’ll get her back. We’re not letting them get away with this."
Brittany, her face pale and her heart racing, looked at the Mikaelsons for reassurance. But it was Freya who spoke first, her voice firm but calm. "Santana is strong. She’ll fight. And we will get her back."
Meanwhile, Santana woke up in a dimly lit room, her body aching, her mind fuzzy from the vervain. She tried to move, but her hands were bound to a chair, her legs tied to the ground. The room around her was not what she expected. It was furnished like a proper bedroom, a bed with clean sheets, a chair, a small desk, and even a window. It looked more like a guest room than a cell.
A soft sound drew her attention, and she turned to see Greta standing in the doorway. The woman’s expression was calm, unreadable, but there was something calculating in her eyes.
"So, you're awake," Greta said coolly, stepping into the room. "Good. We can finally talk."
Santana narrowed her eyes, trying to assess the situation. "What the hell is going on? Where am I?"
Greta’s smile was almost amused. "You’re my guest. We had to bring you here, but you’re free to roam this place. You see, we have a common goal, Santana. A world free of impurity. A world where the Scorned can rule."
Santana’s stomach turned at the words, the implications of them sinking in. Greta wasn’t just some vampire, she was a leader, and this was no simple kidnapping.
"Help me rid the world of impurity, Santana," Greta continued, her eyes locking onto Santana’s. "You’re a fighter. I can see it in you. Join us, and together we can change everything."
Santana didn’t respond right away, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of the offer. This wasn’t a simple fight for survival anymore, it was a battle for her very soul. And she wasn’t sure what it was that would break first.