By the time Beatrix came to, Damon was gone.

Not that she had been expecting him to stay. That'd be asking him for too much. Especially after Bonnie sacrificed herself to stay with Kai to ensure the two of them got out.

Beatrix no longer wanted to kill her. She just hoped that if Bonnie died in the prison world, she would regenerate too. If not...

She straightened up, smoothing down her sweater. This was it. She was out, and now, all she had to do was get to New Orleans. She glanced down at her hand, seeing the daylight ring was still there. Good. Now, to get to Louisiana.

Beatrix sped out of the woods immediately, heading out as far as she could onto a nearby street. Hopefully, a car would pass by and give her a lift somewhere near an airport. She considered using some sort of magic to facilitate her transport, but she rather liked the idea of doing things the normal way. Pretending to be human.

A red suburban drove up in the moments she was thinking. She extended her hand into the road and held her thumb up.

It drove faster. She frowned, at first, but when she listened in, she heard the voices of several children inside. Busy parent with what sounded like toddlers. She supposed she couldn't be mad about that.

She remained standing there, awkwardly shifting her weight on her heels. Another car came by in the opposite direction, and this time, it stopped. The man inside the silver truck looked over at her and nodded. "Where you headed?" he asked her.

"The nearest airport," she said. He gave her an apologetic smile. "That's back the way I came, hon, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she said awkwardly. "Thanks for letting me know. How um, how far is it?"

"Several miles, but I'm sure that someone will stop soon. Sorry I couldn't help you."

She nodded and took a step back, allowing him to drive past. Several miles. She supposed hitching a ride wouldn't be worth it. When the truck disappeared from view, she began to speed in the direction of the red suburban, passing it and continuing in a blur down the road, stopping abruptly in an alleyway when she reached a more populated area. She panted and held her knees. It had been a long time since she'd moved that fast for that long. When she saw Klaus again, he'd make fun of her for being out of shape.

She walked out of the alley casually once she caught her breath, and walked into the street. It seemed more complicated here— she'd need to hail a taxi, or something.

"Excuse me," she said to a woman who was on her phone at the bus stop. "Does this go near the airport?"

The woman paused, and opened up an app on her phone. She said nothing, zooming in on a few images of what appeared to be a digitalized map. "Not directly, but it stops somewhat near it, from what I can tell."

"That's good enough," she said. "Thank you."

She dug into her pockets, glad that she could still feel a few quarters. The same pants had been carrying them on the day she and Kai approached Bonnie and Damon at the grocery store.

Another pang in her heart as she thought of Bonnie. Trapped in there with Kai. It was different that Kai and Beatrix were both fairly sadistic or just plain apathetic sometimes. Bonnie was a sweetheart, really, and Kai was going to make her life a living hell.

Perhaps if she heard of the day Bonnie got out, she'd send her chocolates and flowers as a 'thank you.'

The bus arrived, and Beatrix slowly got inside. She deposited four quarters into the box at the front and went to take a seat. At least buses looked a lot nicer, now. As the ride began, she saw several people with cell phones, typing away. Some made phone calls and took notes, speaking very quietly. She just kept her arms crossed on her lap.

It dawned on her that she didn't know how many stops until she reached the airport. So when it stopped the first time after she got on, she stood and went toward the driver. "Excuse me, can you tell me when to get off if I intend to get to the airport?"

The older male nodded kindly. "Of course."

Even the people seemed nicer. Or perhaps, it was that she was posing as a human and they didn't know her secret. They'd be scared of her, then.

As the ride went on, she found herself getting increasingly more hungry. She tried not to focus on the beating hearts of everyone who came and went on the bus. She closed her eyes, thinking of what she'd say to Elijah. To Klaus. To Rebekah. She wondered if it was true that Klaus was a father now. Would she meet the mother of his child, and the baby? Was the mother of his child his girlfriend or wife? She doubted that— Klaus wasn't one to hold an attachment like that. Marcel. She couldn't wait to see Marcel. He must be so mature now, and Beatrix expected he'd be with Rebekah, if the two were truly in the same city.

She wondered about that, too. The Mikaelsons were in New Orleans. They must have seen Marcel already. Would Marcel have told them he saved Beatrix from the fire? Or would he stay quiet because she had disappeared so long ago and he had no idea if she was still alive?

"This is your stop, honey," she heard the familiar voice of the elderly bus driver said. Thanking him, she stepped off when the doors opened. Now, to get a bite to eat. She could get to the airport once she wasn't feeling so famished.

She stopped inside a little cafe. With no money, she felt guilty going in there and compelling her server, but she needed food. It had no customers at the moment— just her luck. Beatrix walked up to the cashier, a burly and very athletic looking teenage boy. Beside him, behind glass, were some bagels and other treats ready to purchase.

"I don't have any money," she said bluntly, making the boy frown. "Um... why are you in here, then?"

"I need food. Actually..." she stared into his eyes. "I think it'd be cheaper if you slit your wrist just a tiny bit and poured some blood into a cup for me. Nothing major. I'll even give you my blood to heal you. Wouldn't want you to feel lightheaded."

The boy nodded and went behind the counter, doing just as he was told. Beatrix looked around quickly, smiling when she saw no other person was there, but frowning when she saw the security cameras. The boy placed the cup on the counter for her— a good four ounces of blood in the cup.

"Darling, you overdid yourself," she chided, beckoning him to lean over the counter. She bit into her wrist and pushed it into his mouth. He drank, and she then pulled at a napkin to clean his mouth. "Forget I was here, now."

He nodded, and turned away. She looked up at the cameras. "Deleo memoriae," she muttered, watching as the red light on them stopped blinking. Pleased, she reached over the counter and plucked up a bagel, before planting a lid on her cup and walking out of the store.

She finished her bagel fairly quickly. A bigger meal would have to wait— she didn't want to steal too much. She was already going to have to rob the airport of hundreds of dollars worth of a plane ticket, and along with the fact that Bonnie had sacrificed herself for her to be out here, she felt too guilty as it was. She then chugged down the four ounces of blood and threw it into a trashcan. She stopped a woman that was jogging beside her.

"Excuse me, what way is the airport, darling?" she said kindly. The woman kept jogging in place and brought out her phone. Did no one know where anything was, anymore?

"Go down ten blocks," she recited. "Then— left. Should be in sight."

Vague. But sure. The woman began to jog away, and Beatrix resorted to speeding to a nearby rooftop. Surely, she saw where the airport was, in the distance. Feeling energized, she sped towards it.

When she arrived, she sped inside quickly, finding the nearest worker. "Where can I get a flight to New Orleans?" she asked. The woman pointed her to the upstairs, and Beatrix did as she was told. She was lucky enough to find a flight already boarding, and to be safe, asked one of the flight attendants to find out which seats weren't taken. She took one of those, sighing pleasantly as she lay back, ready to fall asleep.

By the time she woke up, they were descending in New Orleans. She looked out the window, her chest swelling as she gazed down at her beloved city. She was back. The instant the plane landed, she was out, and heading into the French Quarter. At this point, it didn't matter whether the witches saw her— she was going to be prepared to take them on. After years practicing darker magic with Kai, they'd be no match for her unless every last one of them was ganging up.

She arrived at the doorstep of the Mikaelson compound not long after. Breathing deeply, she called out. "Hello? Klaus? Elijah? Someone?"

She heard footsteps, and soon, saw a beautiful woman with hazel green eyes walking toward her. "Who are you?" she said immediately, with a fierceness that surprised Beatrix.

"A friend of Klaus and Elijah," she said simply. "Where can I find them? Or Rebekah, that'll be nice too."

"Klaus just left," the woman answered. "We're having a bit of a dilemma with Elijah. If you're up for helping, I'll tell you what's going on."

"Sure, I'll help. But what's happened to Elijah?" she asked immediately. She sounded agitated, and the woman stopped.

"Who are you?" she asked her again. "How do you... know them?"

"If Elijah is in trouble then there's no time to explain. My name is Beatrix," she answered.

"Never heard of you," the woman said bluntly. "But I'm Hayley. Now come with me."

"Where are we going?" Beatrix asked.

"I need to see someone named Marcel Gerard," she said. "Do you know him?"

A small smile grew on Beatrix's face. "Hell yeah, I know him. I practically raised him."

As they began to walk, Hayley stared at her curiously. "I have heard of you, then," she mumbled. "But not with the name Beatrix. Elijah calls you Itza."

She nodded. "That's my birth name. He was the only person I ever told it to. But I suppose you know, now."

"He was hallucinating from a werewolf bite when he said it— it's not his fault. I just— I thought you were dead? He told me a few things."

"That's a very long story I'd be needing to explain to many people at once. I'm assuming now Marcel didn't tell them that we survived. Let me guess, though— you're the werewolf. The one Klaus got pregnant."

There was a pained look in her eyes. "Yes. I'm um— a hybrid now."

Beatrix raised her eyebrows. "Impressive." She wanted to ask about the baby, but the way that Hayley's eyes had turned sad made her fear that the baby hadn't survived. "Me too, technically, but not the same type as you. I'm a witch vampire."

"Elijah mentioned that. Said they call you Heretics, right?"

"Yeah... dunno who came up with that. Wamp would have been a funny term. Or vitch."

Hayley snorted, smiling slightly. "Itza is a pretty name. Why don't you use it?"

"I don't know, honestly. Beatrix was supposed to be my name for protection. I guess being called Itza would have meant opening up about my past and only Elijah ever knew the full extent of it. Until recently, of course."

By the time they arrived a warehouse type of residence, she and Hayley seemed to be getting along well. Beatrix rather liked her— she was spontaneous and badass and honestly, quite admirable. Klaus had unknowingly picked a very good woman to have been the mother of his child.

As they walked up the stairs, they could hear a conversation taking place. Beatrix smiled when she heard Marcel's voice.

"Yeah, the humans I know said the same thing. Maybe Klaus is having better luck?"

"No, he's not, which sucks, considering how low the bar is around here," Hayley announced as she and Beatrix stepped inside. Marcel's mouth dropped open. "Trix?"

"Hi, Marcel," she said, grinning.

"You— you're not one of Esther's hallucinations, are you?" he asked, taking a slow step forward.

"Wow, Esther is part of the problem?" she said, facing Hayley. "It seems I got out of the prison world just in time."

When she turned back to face Marcel, he engulfed her in a tight hug, making her smile. "I missed you," she said, rubbing his back.

"I tried to find you," he whispered. "No witches could locate you."

"The Gemini Coven got to me," she sighed. "Eighteen years stuck in a prison world with a sociopath, can you believe it?"

Hayley cleared her throat. "I really hate to cut the reunion short, but Elijah is missing, and I wanted to ask if you're up for a rescue mission."

"Are we going after Elijah?" asked the woman behind Marcel. She sounded eager. Beatrix had been suspecting that Hayley might have caught Elijah's eye, but with this woman in the mix too, it made her feel a small ache in her heart. She expected he'd have moved on long ago, but it still hurt.

"Nope. That's all Klaus," said Hayley. "I'm talking about Oliver. Now, he and Elijah were fighting the werewolves together. I've heard that Oliver's been captured and is about to be executed. Now, look— if we can save Oliver, then we might be able to find out where Elijah is."

Marcel nodded and stepped away from Beatrix. "'Kay, so what do you want from us?"

"Just a little distraction. Esther's son, Finn, he's the one that's controlling the werewolves. If you can keep him out of the way, I can go get Ollie myself."

"You can't take on all those wolves by yourself," said Marcel. "You'll get killed, and then I'll get killed for letting it happen."

"I'm not going in alone," sighed Hayley. "I think Beatrix should come with me. And the werewolves may be answering to the witches, but they still have an Alpha. I just have to find him."

Marcel didn't look concerned after that. "Good. Let me know how it goes." He moved to pat Beatrix's shoulder. "Don't go get yourself killed. We have to have a proper reunion."

"Of course, Marcel," she said, smiling as she followed Hayley out.

"Have you ever been out into the bayou?" asked Hayley.

"Loads of times— I was raised there. Near werewolves and all that. But that was in the late 1600s. Haven't been back since then, unless you could when I went into the bayou whilst inside the prison world."

"They trapped you just because of what you are?"

"Yeah... some covens aren't too friendly when it comes to witches born like me. Without powers of our own. Only able to take from others. The French Quarter Coven is one of them. If they get word I'm here, then they'll come after me."

"Witches aren't on my good side right now," said Hayley, looking downward. "They're um... the reason my daughter was killed."

Beatrix didn't know at the time that the baby was still alive. So she frowned, and gave her a saddened look. "I am so sorry about that," she whispered. "Losing a child is hard. I've never really felt that type of pain, but I've seen it. It's difficult. I admire how strong you are, granted that. I wouldn't have the willpower to go on."

Hayley half smiled. "Thanks. I um, guess you do have a mother's perspective, in a way. Marcel doesn't call you 'mom' though."

"Ha, I made sure he didn't. I wasn't wanting to replace his mother. We're more like siblings, honestly. Mikaelsons without Mikaelson blood."

"Always and forever," recited Hayley.

"Something like that."

Every passing second made Beatrix admire Hayley more. She was so resilient and smart, tenacious and upfront. She led Beatrix into deep parts of the bayou, walking around like an expert. It made sense that Elijah might have a thing with her, even if Hayley wasn't hinting toward it. Beatrix knew Elijah's type, and both Hayley and the woman with Marcel were fitting into it.

Suddenly, there was a creak, and Hayley whirled around, catching two arrows in midair that would have hit her and Beatrix in their necks. "Is that your best shot?" taunted Hayley. "You're gonna have to do a lot better than that if you're gonna kill a hybrid."

A man stepped out from behind the trees, pulling a short sword out of its sheath. Beatrix sighed and flicked her wrist, making the sword fly out of his hands and lodge into a tree beside her. "Please, old man, don't make me kill you," she said boredly.

"Stop!" yelled a gruff voice. The three turned around to see a disheveled looking man with dark hair and a dark beard growing wildly around his face. He reminded Beatrix of a lumberjack.

"Jackson?" Hayley gasped.

"Hayley," he replied. "I see you met my friend Ansel. Who's yours?"

Before Hayley could answer, Ansel spoke up. "You know her?" he said, moving closer and nodding to Hayley.

The man called Jackson half smiled. "Yeah, actually. I do. She was supposed to be my wife."

Ansel's mouth turned into a small 'o.' "Come on, you two," Jackson said, beckoning Hayley and Beatrix over. His eyes rested on the Heretic, however.

"I know, I know, I smell weird," she said, holding her hands up. "Not just because I haven't had a chance to get cleaned up. The vampire and witch scent is really weird combination for wolves."

"How'd you know I was a wolf?" he asked.

"Hayley mentioned you're the Alpha. Vampires don't use that terminology, unless that's changed in the past eighteen years."

He nodded in agreement, and pulled out a few chairs for them to sit around a fire pit. Ansel took a seat on a log nearby, and began to sharpen his knife.

Hayley took a seat first, followed by Beatrix, and then Jackson. He leaned back in his chair, while Hayley let her body move forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "So what happened?" she asked him.

Jackson let out a harsh sigh. "Well, after Francesca Guerrera took over the wolves, she offered me a moonlight ring as long as I'd call her Alpha. I declined. So, a couple of her brothers dragged me out here and left me for dead. By the time I healed up, word had spread about what happened to you, and to your baby."

Hayley looked down, and Beatrix awkwardly clasped her hands together. "So I knew it was over," Jackson continued, "and I just drifted. And that's when I met Ansel. See, he's been teaching me the old ways, the traditions. What it means to be a wolf.

Hayley scoffed. "You mean by living out in the ass-end of nowhere?" She let out a healthy laugh, which made Beatrix crack a smile, though Ansel seemed unamused.

"Hey, easy," said Jackson. "Your kind makes him ornery."

This made Hayley frown. "My kind? Jack, whatever you and your friend think of me, my kind is the wolves. Even if they did pledge allegiance to a witch. All that means is they need an Alpha. Ollie needs one, too."

"Yeah, I heard about that. The thing is, Ollie betrayed me. He plotted with the Guerreras. He spilled his own people's blood."

"The Guerreras are still around?" scoffed Beatrix. "They were a pain in the ass."

"They're gone now," Hayley said. "I killed the last one— Francesca Guerrera. And Jackson— Ollie was trying to make up for that."

"It doesn't matter," Jackson growled. "Witches have him— he's dead. Not that I care."

"You don't want to be the Alpha? Fine. I'll save Ollie myself," she said, getting up. Ansel followed suit, and Hayley snapped her gaze up. "Hey, you got a problem, old man?"

He shook his head. "I have no love of vampires, but I will not allow a wolf to be killed by witches." He brushed past Hayley, heading back the way she and Beatrix had come. Happily, Beatrix followed behind, but Ansel ignored her.

"Let me guess, I'm both a vampire and a witch and I'm not on your good side now?" She asked, facing back to make sure Hayley was following.

"Never thought those two could be rolled into one," he said gruffly. "Clearly I was wrong."

"I'm just another happy little abomination of nature," she said with fake cheeriness. "I'll tolerate you if you tolerate me. Not that I have a problem— I don't mind werewolves. Never needed to have an altercation with one until the Guerreras."

"Tolerate," Ansel mumbled halfheartedly, as if mocking her.

Hayley caught up, and the three kept trekking through the woods, silently. Beatrix kept her hands out of her pockets, wanting to be alert. She had to admit though, she was severely out of practice dealing with real problems.

It didn't surprise her at all that she'd already been dragged into a rescue mission within hours of arriving in the city. This was normal when it came to the Mikaelsons. She didn't mind it. Knowing Elijah was in trouble was enough to get her to come along without questions.

Hayley's phone began to ring about halfway out of the bayou. "Tell me you have your Alpha," came Marcel's voice.

"He's out of commission, but I got the next best thing," she said. "I'm assuming you have a plan to keep Finn occupied? I don't doubt Beatrix could take him if it came down to that, but we'd prefer there not be a problem."

There was only a slight pause before Marcel answered. "Yeah... Yeah, I think I might have an idea." He then hung up.

"So, what are we dealing with?" Beatrix asked. "Finn... like Finn Mikaelson?"

"Unfortunately," said Hayley. "He and Esther are back in the bodies of witches. Oh— them and the other brother. Kol."

Beatrix's eyes widened. "What? Are you serious?"

Hayley nodded. "Klaus told me yesterday. Rebekah is not in the city, just an FYI. She's occupied doing some important stuff."

No offense to Rebekah but her whereabouts no longer mattered. She clutched her chest. "Kol's alive," she whispered. "Oh my...."

She definitely didn't want to kill Bonnie now.

It didn't take much longer for them to arrive to what Beatrix remembered to be the Lafayette Cemetery.

"The fog is good," Hayley whispered. "Think you can keep us concealed, Beatrix?"

"I can make us invisible, darling," she said, waving her hands. "Invisique. They're likely still going to sense us though— with a witch backing them up we won't be concealed from that. They'd find us eventually."

"Let's stay invisible until we get to Ollie, then," said Hayley. They walked in, and she took the lead, heading toward the lycée.

When they found Ollie, Beatrix winced, seeing the man's body suspended from the roof via heavy chains.

Hayley ran to him immediately. "Ollie! Ollie, wake up!"

The blond looked up weakly. "The hell are you doing?" he mumbled. "Who the hell are they?"

"We're here to save your ass," said Hayley. "Please tell me you know where Elijah is?" Ollie shook his head, and Ansel darted to the window. "They've sensed us by now. They know we're here."

Both Beatrix and Hayley stopped to listen. Sure enough, the sound of wolves jumping around and heading toward the lycée was getting louder.

Hayley immediately yanked on the chains. "Sorry. No time to be gentle." Ollie fell to the floor and she picked him up, leaning him onto her. "Let's go."

"Just leave me here," Ollie moaned in pain. "Go!"

"To hell with that!" said Hayley. "They want a fight, I'll give them a fight."

"No," said Ansel. "I came with you to save one of my own, not watch as you kill scores of them. Take your friend out the back, move as fast as you can. I'll hold them off here."

"I'll help you," Beatrix offered. "Hayley, I can keep you both invisible until you get out but they'll know you're there." She nodded and left, dragging Ollie with her. Beatrix followed a displeased looking Ansel out, past several crypts, where they were found by a large horde of werewolves.

"I'd prefer you didn't kill them," muttered Ansel.

"Okay, I can manage that," said Beatrix. As the werewolves advanced, she raised her hands. "Levi somnum, nunc somnum." When she dropped her hands, the majority of the wolves dropped. "The Ancestral magic here is as strong as ever," she muttered as the remaining wolves collapsed. "It won't let me take them all out at once. One more time should do it— Levi somnum, nunc somnum!"

The rest of the wolves dropped just as Ansel raised his quiver. "Hmm," he said, looking down.

"Yes, you're welcome," muttered Beatrix, stopping for a second to take a deep breath. "Bloody hell— I need to get back in shape if I'm going to go against Ancestral magic. Finn was smart to tap into it. The wolves won't stay down for long— I hope Hayley got Ollie out already."

"Is there a way you can locate that Elijah fellow?" asked Ansel, looking back at the next horde of wolves approaching. "Not to point out weaknesses, but I don't know if you can manage doing that spell a few more times."

"Yes, I can, but I'll probably need to siphon off of you," she said. Ansel didn't understand fully, but offered his hand all the same. She grasped his hand and began to siphon, making him wince. She raised her hand once more. "Levi somnum, nunc somnum! Levi somnum, nunc somnum!"

When the rest of the wolves dropped, she let go, and Ansel grunted. "Go find him. I'll hold off anyone else."

Beatrix nodded gratefully and sped away to be behind one of the crypts. She could sense there was something in the cemetery, but she just needed to pinpoint which crypt it was in. She gripped the sweater she still had on, the one belonging to Elijah. "Permisso visum, visum sanguine conspicio.... Permisso visum, permisso visum, visum sanguine conspicio..."

An image flashed in her mind. Elijah in chains. And she knew just where he was.

"Back in the lycée, of course," she muttered, speeding back there, catching a glimpse of Ansel fighting off a few wolves with his sword. She stumbled down the steps and sprinted deeper into the structure. A spell concealing him, how clever. "Ostende Invisique."

She leapt back when the figure of a bloodied Elijah with his shirt torn appeared right in front of her. She looked up to where a voodoo doll was tied and ripped it off of its string, before yanking at the chains. Elijah collapsed in her arms, nearly knocking her down, and letting out a groan.

"Hey," she whispered, stroking his hair gently. "I'm here... I'm here..."