The church was lovely.

"I may start coming to pray here more often," said Yara, admiring the dimly lit altar. "Here, near the front."

"Near the front?" complained Klaus. "The middle is fine."

"You're technically one of the leaders of the community."

"And you are technically not supposed to be here. Compromise."

"Fine. Middle it is."

Klaus refused to let her sit at the edge. She was forced to settle between him and Marcel, neither of which cared to respond to any cues from Father Kieran. They probably wouldn't have stood or sat at the right times if the people around them weren't following the proper lead.

"Thank you all for coming," started Father Kieran. "It means more than I can tell you. We gather today for the first public service of our newly reopened church. St. Anne's can finally once again be the heart of our community, where we can congregate as a people united. Here, at this hour, we come together to praise God and give thanks. The events that took place at our church were tragic..."

Yara closed her eyes, leaning forward in the pew as he continued, "...but they do not define our future, and they do not bring an end to the goodness that this church has provided and will continue to provide..."

"Problem?" she heard Klaus mutter to Marcel.

She opened one eye as Marcel quickly shook his head, "No."

"Then pay attention," Klaus hissed. "We're meant to seem like devoted parishioners."

"Stop talking," said Yara lowly.

"...and it is that hope in our hearts, and with the help of many benefactors," she swore Father Kieran smiled at Klaus and Marcel, "that allows us to be here today. So, we gather with renewed spirit, made stronger, committed to the ideals of peace and love. Amen."

"Amen," said the church attendants.

Klaus was eager to leave as soon as the mass ended, despite Yara's insistence that she wanted to stay and pray a rosary. He dragged her out to shake Father Kieran's hand, insisting that they go to the Compound as soon as possible.

"Lovely sermon this morning, Father," said Klaus, shaking the man's hand. "Quite inspirational."

"If I'm being honest, I wasn't expecting you to join us," said Father Kieran. "Yara, it's good to meet you formally."

"You, too, Father," said Yara. "My deepest condolences."

"Thank you. I appreciate you being here. And congratulations." He smiled, gesturing to her belly, "Boy or girl?"

"I don't know yet, but I expect to find out soon," said Yara brightly.

"Which can only happen if the city is safe," noted Klaus. "We were hoping for some word from your human sources on the recent Haitian invasion."

"You can be so tactless," said Yara. "It's not an invasion, it's one Haitian warlock. The invasion is dead witches returning with a vengeance."

Father Kieran held up his hands. "My guys have their ears on the ground, and no one has seen or heard any sign of whatever his name is. They're still looking."

"He's called Papa Tunde," explained Marcel. "And right now, he's wandering in the Quarter with the power he absorbed from every soul I had buried in the Garden, so you might wanna put your ear a little closer to the ground."

"Or I could steer clear of whatever war is brewing between your kind and his, before I find myself caught in another Harvest situation."

"Your resources are valuable to us, Father," said Yara gently. "If you feel uncomfortable, I'd be happy to speak with whoever your right hand is and–"

Klaus seemed annoyed she was even offer to look into it herself, but the glare Yara shot him was so cold that he refrained from making a comment. She continued, "see if I could gather the information from them myself. I will handle any payments. We understand how something like this is unpleasant to partake in. The last thing I want is to place more of a burden on your family."

"That is very kind of you to offer," said Father Kieran, cheeks red. He seemed almost guilty now. "I... will see what else I can find out before I hand it off. Thank you all for coming."

Klaus put his arm around her as they began to walk away. "Manipulating a priest, Yara? You are darker than I remember, love."

"That wasn't manipulating," said Yara, offended. "It was a genuine offer. He and Cami have been through enough. Forcing them into our world and our problems isn't kind. When someone expresses a concern, you listen, you adapt. We are more powerful. We can handle this."

"Hey," said Marcel, sensing Klaus was going to retort, "Yara's right. But what I agree with on Klaus's end is that youshouldn't be the one handling it. I admit, I should have listened better when he seemed worried about his part in the search. If he doesn't want to do it anymore, I'll coordinate with his guys. Speaking of guys," he held up his phone. "Diego, what's up?"

"You guys need to get back to the Compound, right now," said Diego shakily.

"Would you care to elaborate?" asked Klaus loudly.

"Either our witch problems are over, or they're just getting started."

Yara leaned on a pillar while Elijah, Klaus, and Marcel examined the 'gift' that'd been left in the courtyard for them. Papa Tunde, dead and with his distinctive mark carved into his own forehead. He was laid in a circle of salt, blood all over his white suit.

"And you wanted me to stay here by myself," said Yara, unable to help but be smug. "Ah... I was right."

Klaus scowled, choosing to antagonize Elijah instead. "Can I get you anything, brother? A magnifying glass? A pipe, perhaps?"

Elijah glared at him, getting back to his feet. "You have a theory you'd like to share with us, Niklaus?"

Marcel spoke up, "Back in the day, the witches wanted to send a threat, they'd just kill a chicken and leave it on your doorstep."

"It's rather a large and ominous chicken, wouldn't you say?"

"Papa Tunde defeated Rebekah with ease," said Klaus, "almost got the two of us as well. If he was supposed to be the prize fighter, why leave him for dead in our front yard?"

"Simple," offered Yara. "He wasn't the prized fighter. Even with all that power, someone either took him down or he sacrificed himself for a reason."

"And why would this man sacrifice himself?" asked Klaus.

"Well, I don't know, but either the person who killed him has a sick sense of humor by using his own method against him, or he consented to it and let his magic mean something for someone. I mean, if there is someone stronger, it's got to be another one of the witches. And they do such strange things."

There was a click of heels as Rebekah entered the house. "Well, don't you look cheery. Listen to this– a girl literally exploded from a grave today as Sabine was giving a tour of the city of the dead. It was Monique Deveraux."

Klaus whipped around to face her. "What?"

"The tourists thought it was part of the show, but the witches are celebrating like it's some kind of bloody miracle."

There was a new light in Marcel's eyes. "Maybe it is. They think that all hope is lost, but now suddenly a Harvest girl is resurrected. This is how we're gonna get Davina back– kill the witch who took her place."

"But who are those witches?" asked Yara. "Unless..." she gestured to Elijah. "This may be a stretch, but Davina was drawing Céleste. We didn't get to find out why. What if she's the one behind this? Or... one of the people who was going to come back? Maybe with more time she would have been able to see the other people, I don't know, but this could be one lead."

Klaus seemed to believe this could be true. "First, Papa Tunde returns to settle old scores, now your murdered lover is back, Elijah. This isn't witches attacking vampires. They're declaring war on us."

Of course, Yara wasn't getting to fight.

"This is so ridiculous," said Yara darkly as Rebekah dragged her to the house now under the vampire's name. "We're both still strong, we could do some searching. But of course we are taken to a house with no internet and no computers."

"It's for your own good," said Rebekah. "According to Nik. I know you are accustomed to fighting, Yara, but that babe in your tum grows more each day. Perhaps it is time to set the weapons down until its born. The Compound wasn't safe, this is the next best thing. No one saw us arrive."

"Yeah, that won't mean anything without a Cloaking Spell. But since the witches apparently hate this family... what would it even be about? Why hurt us? Is it because of Klaus and Kol's past run-ins with witches and they barely had the right circumstances to come back and hurt the family? Or is it about the baby?"

"Could be both," said Rebekah. "We'll nip in the bud before it gets too bad. We'll stay here and with any luck, my brothers and Marcel will handle it. If the fight comes to us, I walk into the front lines and you run."

Yara sighed. "Okay. Will do."

She spent most of the day by herself, reading a book aloud to the baby, hand rubbing over her growing belly and hoping that soon enough, they'd know who all the resurrected witches were so they could work on getting rid of them and bringing the Harvest Girls back. She felt it might be more efficient to just hire a sniper to take them out one by one, but she was sure that Klaus and Marcel might have more violent ideas she wasn't exactly opposed to if it meant she could start taking daily walks out in town.

She and Rebekah were having dinner when they heard a howl outside. Both of them sat up, initially thinking it could be shrugged off. Then, another howl followed it. Multiple at once. They both sensed a series of bodies outside, belonging to animals.

"Hayley may have mentioned the wolves wishing to meet the baby," said Rebekah slowly. "In passing..."

"This doesn't sound like the start of an epic baby shower," muttered Yara, getting up to look out the window. "There are... a lot of–" she let out a piercing scream as she felt her body being dragged toward the doorway.

"Yara!" cried Rebekah, reaching out to grab her. The woman tried to hold onto anything she passed by, the doorframe, the portraits hanging on the wall, even the stairwell railing. Despite the Original tugging with all her might and digging her heels into the ground, the force kept pulling, causing Yara's body to skid closer and closer to the door, which popped open and cleared a path for her to be literally thrown to the wolves.

And then, suddenly, it stopped. Yara's body careened sideways, propelling Rebekah out of the house and right in front of the snarling wolves.

When Yara tried to reach out and drag her back in, the door closed in her face. The doorknob refused to turn, the window beside it wouldn't break as Yara slammed her fists into it, heart racing in panic when she heard Rebekah let out a screech of pain.

The fire alarms began to blare, emitting a sound so high-pitched that she ceased her efforts on the window, covering her ears and wincing, the smell of smoke reaching her nose. Tongues of flames were already peeking out of the kitchen, steadily making their way toward her.

"You have got to be kidding me!" she said. "Nowhere is safe! Stupid– fucking– witches!"

She reached for a coat rack, bashing it into the window to no avail. The ones in the living room were just as stubborn.

Okay, if the windows and doors were unavailable, she needed to find another way out.

She sped upstairs, finding the entrance to the attic and popping it open, figuring she could try and punch her way through the roof, since it wasn't a typical entryway. Even when she leapt up with all her might, it didn't so much as crack.

She sped back down, coughing and finding that the chimney was completely blocked. Before attempting anything else, she made for the downstairs bathroom, running one of the hand towels under the water and pressing it over her mouth, wishing this was like the old plantation house so that she could run to the underground room made of stone and hide until the fire went out. The smoke would rise and she wouldn't burn.

Despite the lack of a basement, she realized hope was not entirely lost. She slammed her foot into the bathroom tiles, managing to break through the foundation until she was greeted with dirt, and a gap just wide enough for her to fit.

As soon as she made the hole big enough, she slid inside, uncomfortably twisting her body until she could crawl on her forearms, wiggling through to where she could see the moonlight shining through a lattice near where the garden hose was propped up. She froze when she heard howls again, realizing that even if she did break out, the wolves might still be lingering around, maybe they could even smell her down there and could dig their way in and maul her up so quickly that the baby wouldn't have time to heal her.

Poor Rebekah...

She would survive, at least, but Yara wouldn't wish a wolf attack on anyone.

She reached for her phone, hoping desperately that it would manage to send a text to Klaus, Elijah, and Marcel asking for help. She realized it might have been smarter to contact them first. Then again, she could have wasted valuable time getting out of the burning house by calling.

The 'S.O.S.' text was taking its sweet time to send. She could feel the heat of the burning house above her, and wondered how long before it would collapse, potentially leaving her crushed and still scorched.

One more howl, and she heard the wolves starting to leave. She dared to wiggle closer to the lattice, waiting until she saw them retreat into the woods to slowly claw her way out.

"YARA!"

"Here!" she screamed, waving her hands as she crawled out. "Over here!"

Elijah sped to her. "Where is Rebekah?"

"Is she not out there?" she asked as he yanked her out from under the house. "Did the wolves take her with them?"

"I don't know," he said, panicked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, we need to find your sister! Where's Klaus? And Marcel?"

"Niklaus is missing too."

Marcel was already sending out search parties when they returned to the Compound. None of them were coming up with any leads.

"We've looked everywhere for him," said Diego. "Tore apart the Cauldron, the City of the Dead. Wherever they got him, he ain't in the French Quarter."

"What about Rebekah?" asked Yara, accepting a towel from Thierry to clean her hands. "Any sign of her?"

"Nope," he said. "A few of the guys went out to check the remains of the house and there were no traces. The wolves didn't drag her away. Someone else must have."

Elijah was growing frustrated with the lack of progress. "What has happened? Why–? How–? When did Niklaus even disappear?"

"Klaus threw one of his classic temper tantrums, snapped my neck, tried to take on a coven of witches by himself," said Marcel. "He got dropped. I don't know where he is or how to find him. But we're trying, okay?"

The Original pointed at the gathered vampires. "Every one of you will help me to find them. I'm gonna kill them all."

Yara was happy to participate, if they allowed her to.

"Here," said Elijah, placing her in his study with a laptop. "Whatever you know how to do, do it, and attempt to find him. So far, we know only two of the three remaining witches. One is in fact Céleste– she took over Sabine's body. The other is Bastianna. Camille has told me that she cursed Father Kieran this morning. Niklaus was helping them before he was taken."

"Okay," said Yara, cracking her fingers. "I'll see what I can find out. There's got to be some satellite images I can look at to find some isolated places they would have taken them to. They wouldn't hold them in the city; they'd be risking witch children and others not directly involved in the kidnappings. I'll see what I can find."

There were many abandoned buildings out by the Bayou and many more at the borders of New Orleans. There was no way of knowing which were being used, but Yara offered them all to Marcel so his men could check them personally.

"Anything?" asked Elijah when they met in the courtyard the next morning.

"I've gotten in touch with Kieran's contacts to send out more search parties, per Marcel's recommendations," said Yara. "Police, some vendors, even workers at the docks."

"I've got daywalkers in the streets," said Marcel. "Both looking and spreading the word about putting eyes and ears everywhere: anyone trying to earn favor with me gets a lifetime of it if they find them."

"Good," said Elijah, brushing past them to head to the study. "I went to speak with Monique Deveraux. Sophie has been killed and though she claimed it was a casualty of war, I fear she may have killed her by order of the witches."

He snatched up a pen and paper from his desk, offering them to Yara. "I require a favor," he said, taking off his jacket.

"Well, this is certainly surprising," said Yara, wondering why he was undressing until she saw a series of names written on his skin, as if by a tattoo artist. "Woah."

"I need you to make a list of these names."

She began to do so immediately, using the pen to tap beside each name she had already written. "I really do hope they're only on your chest, back, and arms. You know I like you, Elijah, but not enough to see the rest of you. Hell, I don't think I've ever seen your thighs. You don't wear shorts."

He was too stressed to laugh. "I believe these represent the names of the women Céleste inhabited for the past two centuries."

"Women, plural," said Yara. "Sick. Truly sick. I never did like the idea of body jumping. But why give you all the names?"

"It's called a Devinette," said Marcel. "It's old school. Kind of a riddle. Witches use them to teach their kids. Solve it, and it disappears."

"Céleste forced me to make a choice between Yara and my siblings," said Elijah, "and now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game. 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."

"But this doesn't make sense," insisted Yara. "Why give you the names? Why let you solve it? What, they think you'll come in with the white oak so they can lure you in with a weapon they can use to kill all vampires? Or do they want you to find them? In which case... why bother to kidnap them at all? Ugh, why do witches do anything?"

"Look," said Marcel, pointing at one of the names. "Annie La Fleur. I recognize that. She's the witch that was shunned from her coven just over a year ago. Never knew why, but I can find out."

Yara had finished making her list. At lightning speed, she copied it over, making one for herself. "You two can go and conduct interviews. I'm going to see what I can find on the internet. Where in the city are records kept of its citizens?"

"City hall," said Marcel. "But it may be different for supernaturals. Stick to the computer for now, we'll get you another lead after we figure out what happened to Annie La Fleur."

Even with just Google at her aid, Yara was able to find out plenty about the women. There seemed to be a pattern, confirmed by Elijah when he let her know Annie La Fleur had killed herself, just like many of those other women.

"Well, it makes sense," she said to Elijah over the phone. "She had to jump from body to body and probably wanted to stay young, too. She had to end her own life to get from place to place."

"Yes," he said bitterly, "in fact, Annie drowned herself in the Mississippi. She leapt to her death from the very location Céleste and I had our first kiss."

"Weird. Hey, I was looking at one of the names, Brynne Deveraux, and was thinking about the Crescent Curse. Marcel told me he had a witch put it, but Sophie was telling Hayley about her bloodline executing the curse. It fits. The wolves were somehow recruited by the witches to take down Rebekah. If we could cure them, we could make them our allies. I say we kidnap Céleste back and make her undo the Crescent Curse. Monique Deveraux probably won't do it but if Céleste cast it using Brynne's body... she can be made to break it."

"We will take it under consideration. After all, we cannot kill Céleste or she will simply body jump and we will have to find her again."

She paused. "Elijah, you said you had to make a choice between me and your siblings. Why?"

"Céleste wondered what I'd save. The future and the hope of the family, that baby the witches are so afraid of, or... my siblings. You were going to die in that fire, along with my brother's child. There was no choice but to go after you. Thankfully, you were resourceful enough to free yourself on your own. If I hadn't made it in time..."

"It's okay. I'm fine. The baby is fine, too. Thank you, Elijah. For protecting that hope."

"One last thing. The supernatural records are kept under the sacristy of St. Anne's Church. Thierry is retrieving them for you."

"Okay, I'll get to looking as soon as I receive them."

As it turned out, the pattern didn't persist with all the women. In fact, there was only one who hadn't died by Céleste's own hand.

"Clara Summerlin," said Yara, showing the folder to Marcel and Elijah when they returned. "Perished in the influenza epidemic of 1919. You remember that? When Rebekah worked in the Fleur-de-lis Sanatorium?"

Suddenly, Elijah let out a gasp, holding out his arm and revealing that the names were disappearing.

"So that's it?" said Yara, quickly flipping to her list of abandoned buildings. "The Sanatorium was one of them! It's the only one the vampires had yet to investigate."

"Wait," said Marcel, sensing Elijah was ready to zoom out. "If... if they're at the Sanatorium, you need to know exactly what we're walking into."

Yara furrowed her brows, coming to stand across from Marcel. "Look me in the eyes," she said, seeing how he tilted his head away. "What is going on? What do you know?"

He looked at her after much hesitation. "We did something, Rebekah and I... I think the witches are trying to use it against her. It was, uh... something that you're not gonna like. One of the resurrected witches, her name is Genevieve. She uh, she helped Rebekah and I find Mikael so we could bring him to New Orleans in 1919. We wanted to get Klaus to run so we could be together."

Elijah's jaw twitched furiously. "For the better part of a century, I have wondered how Father found us, what foolish mistake that we had made to destroy our time in the one place that we could finally call home. Did you know, I even blamed myself for a time, Marcellus?"

"You're telling me that this entire time, you and Rebekah were the reason behind what happened in 1919?" said Yara, confused and hurt. "You... you lured that man here, knowing how he'd abused Klaus, knowing that he'd destroy anythingin his path?"

"I never intended for things to go the way they did," said Marcel weakly. "I never thought it would come back to bite me in the ass, I never thought it'd break you and Klaus up–"

"Marcel, I– I could care less that it broke us up. It– it bothers me, yes, but you nearly died. My boy–" her voice broke, "I thought I lost you. I thought that man found us because of Klaus refusing to listen to Elijah and I about being more careful. I thought your 'death' was our fault. And this whole time... you're saying... you're saying none of it might have happened... that we didn't do anything wrong... the time we lost... the way my heart shattered because I thought you were gone.."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry. I loved Rebekah, and all we ever wanted was to be together, but as long as Klaus was around, that was never gonna happen."

"We will discuss this later," said Elijah, fists balled as he tried not to lash out at Marcel. "When Klaus learns the truth, there will be no end to his rage. I will not let my sister suffer that wrath."

"Then we need to get to them before he learns the truth," said Marcel.

"Go," urged Yara. "Get Rebekah back safely. Listen, about Céleste's kidnapping–" she held up her hand before Elijah could say anything. "Don't worry, I'm just going to tell Hayley about it. Her and a pack of wolves against that bitch? Maybe they can get her to cure them."

"Ensure they do not kill her."

"Don't worry, I'm positive they won't even think about it until they have proof it'll work. And even then I trust they will be level-headed enough to let her be. Go. Rescue them."

They sped off, leaving her to sink to the ground, holding her own chest and fighting back the tears she felt about to overtake her entire body.

How could they?