Chapter 5: Picnic and Warfare
The afternoon sun painted Audubon Park in shades of gold and green, a deceptive tranquility that made it hard to believe vampires and ancient spirits existed anywhere outside of bad movies. Hope had chosen this spot—a grassy slope overlooking the duck pond, far enough from the walking paths to provide privacy but public enough to satisfy Klaus's paranoid requirements.
"So," she said, unpacking sandwiches from a wicker basket that looked like it belonged in a Jane Austen adaptation, "first official date. How does it feel to be checking items off Dad's impossible list?"
I stretched out on the checkered blanket, grass tickling the back of my neck through the thin fabric. "Like I'm one step closer to not being murdered in my sleep. Which, honestly, is the best I can hope for at this point."
She laughed—a sound like wind chimes that made something warm unfurl in my chest. "He's not that bad once you get past the homicidal tendencies."
"I'll take your word for it." I accepted the sandwich she offered, noting how she avoided letting our fingers touch. The Hollow-induced electric shocks from yesterday had left us both wary of physical contact. "What about you? How does it feel to be part of your father's elaborate trust-building exercise?"
Hope bit into her sandwich, considering the question with the same serious attention she brought to her sketches. "Weird," she admitted finally. "I don't really do the whole dating thing. Hard to explain to normal guys why you occasionally glow with ancient evil."
"Well, lucky for you, I'm apparently not normal either."
A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the distant quacking of ducks and the rustle of oak leaves overhead. Hope had traded her usual jeans for a sundress the color of summer sky, and the afternoon light caught gold highlights in her dark hair. She looked younger like this, away from the compound's shadows and supernatural politics.
"Can I ask you something?" she said, setting down her sandwich.
"Shoot."
"Where did you come from? I mean, really. Dad's been asking around—discreetly—and nobody's heard of you. It's like you just... appeared."
The question I'd been dreading since day one. I could lie, create some elaborate backstory about being from out of state or having amnesia. But Hope had been honest with me about the Hollow, about her pain and fears. She deserved better than fiction.
"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."
"Try me. I live with vampires and host an ancient spirit. My threshold for weird is pretty high."
Before I could answer, the temperature dropped twenty degrees in the space of a heartbeat. The cheerful sounds of families enjoying the park faded to an unnatural silence, as if someone had thrown a blanket over the world.
Hope was on her feet before I'd finished registering the change, her body tense with the kind of alertness that came from a lifetime of supernatural threats.
"Vampires," she said quietly. "At least three, moving fast."
They materialized from the tree line like smoke given form—pale figures in expensive clothes that had probably been fashionable when television was invented. The leader, a blonde woman with shark-cold eyes, smiled to reveal fangs that gleamed in the dying sunlight.
"Well, well," she said in an accent that might have been Eastern European. "Hope Mikaelson, all alone in the park. How delightfully convenient."
[SYSTEM: Nothing says romance like a battlefield toot. Keep it classy.]
The system's timing was, as usual, spectacularly inappropriate. But even as embarrassment flooded my cheeks, information flowed through my mind—vampire physiology, supernatural speed, hybrid strength from Klaus's bloodline.
I stood slowly, positioning myself between Hope and the approaching threats. "Actually, she's not alone."
The blonde vampire laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Oh, the mysterious newcomer. We've been so curious about you."
"Curiosity killed the cat," I replied, reaching for Klaus's hybrid strength. The power flooded through me like liquid lightning, every muscle fiber suddenly capable of bench-pressing a car. "Though I guess in your case, it's more like curiosity staked the vampire."
The vampire's smile faltered slightly. "Big words for someone whose heart we can hear beating from here."
"Yeah, well—"
That's when my digestive system decided to join the conversation.
The fart was spectacular—a trumpet blast that echoed across the park with all the dignity of a foghorn in a cathedral. Every vampire froze, their supernatural senses probably making the experience even more traumatic than it was for me.
Hope made a small sound that might have been a stifled laugh.
[SYSTEM: Nothing says romance like a battlefield toot. Keep it classy.]
"Are you—did you just—" the blonde vampire started.
"Tactical distraction," I said with as much dignity as I could muster, then launched myself at the nearest vampire.
The borrowed hybrid strength made me fast enough to close the distance before she could react. My fist connected with her solar plexus with enough force to launch her backward into an oak tree. The impact made a sound like a gunshot, and she hit the ground in a shower of bark and leaves.
The other two vampires recovered from their shock and moved to flank me. These were older, more experienced—their movements had the fluid grace that came from centuries of predatory evolution.
The first one reached me before I could dodge, claws raking across my ribs. Pain flared hot and immediate, but the hybrid healing was already kicking in, closing the wounds as fast as they opened. I spun, catching my attacker with an elbow that sent him stumbling backward.
The second vampire tried to circle behind me, but Hope stepped into her path. "I don't think so."
Magic crackled around Hope's fingers—not the chaotic energy of the Hollow, but something controlled and purposeful. The vampire froze mid-step, her expression shifting from predatory hunger to genuine fear.
"Tribrid," she whispered. "We didn't know—"
"Now you do," Hope said pleasantly, and the vampire burst into flames.
The remaining vampires exchanged glances, their earlier confidence evaporating like morning mist. The blonde who'd been thrown into the tree pulled herself to her feet, her designer outfit now decorated with bark and leaves.
"This isn't over," she snarled. "Tell your father the old alliances are breaking down. Tell him the rules are changing."
Before either Hope or I could respond, the vampires melted back into the shadows between the trees, leaving nothing behind but the acrid scent of burnt vampire and the fading echo of threats.
Hope's magic faded, and she swayed slightly on her feet. I moved to steady her, then thought better of it when I remembered the electric shock situation.
"You okay?" I asked instead.
"Yeah. Just tired. Using magic without the Hollow's interference still feels strange." She looked at me with renewed interest. "That was impressive, by the way. Where did you learn to fight like that?"
"Apparently I'm a quick learner."
Before she could probe deeper, a familiar voice called across the park. "Hope! Alex!"
Marcel Gerard approached at a run, his usual casual confidence replaced by urgent concern. He took in the scene—scattered sandwich supplies, my torn shirt, the scorch mark where Hope had incinerated a vampire—and his expression darkened.
"Rogues?" he asked.
"Three of them," Hope confirmed. "They mentioned something about old alliances breaking down."
Marcel's jaw tightened. "This is the third attack this week. They're getting bolder." He looked at me appraisingly. "Word is you handled yourself pretty well."
"I had help," I said, nodding toward Hope.
"Yeah, but you stepped up when it mattered. That counts for something." Marcel extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, I shook it. His grip was firm, the handshake of a man sealing a deal. "Welcome to New Orleans, Alex. Try not to get killed."
As Marcel headed back toward the Quarter to coordinate security, I started gathering the remnants of our picnic. That's when the punishment kicked in.
My feet began to glow.
Not the subtle radiance from the library, but a full-on disco light show that made my sneakers look like they'd been dipped in liquid starlight. With each step, tiny sparks danced around my ankles like demented fireflies.
[SYSTEM: Twinkle toes? You're a walking light show disaster.]
I took a careful step forward and immediately tripped over absolutely nothing, sprawling face-first into the grass. The glowing intensified, and more sparks joined the light show around my feet.
Hope's laughter bubbled up like champagne—bright, effervescent, impossible to resist. She clapped her hands over her mouth, trying to contain it, but her eyes sparkled with mirth above her fingers.
"I'm sorry," she managed between giggles. "It's just—you look like a Christmas tree that's been struck by lightning."
I pulled myself to my feet, dignity in tatters but somehow not caring as much as I should have. Hope's laughter was infectious, and despite everything—the vampire attack, the supernatural politics, the fact that my feet were apparently auditioning for a rave—I found myself grinning.
"This is my life now," I said, taking another careful step that resulted in more sparkles. "Fighting vampires and glowing like a broken neon sign."
"Could be worse," Hope said, finally getting her laughter under control. "You could be boring."
The walk back to the compound was an exercise in careful navigation and wounded pride. Every step produced new light effects, and twice I tripped over shadows that hadn't been there a moment before. Hope walked beside me, occasionally reaching out as if to steady me before remembering the electric shock problem.
By the time we reached the compound's gates, the sun was setting and my feet had finally stopped glowing. The Triad insignia in my pocket had been warm throughout the entire encounter, and I caught myself scanning the rooftops for observers.
"Thank you," Hope said as we paused at the entrance. "For stepping in back there. You didn't have to."
"Yeah, I did," I replied, surprised by how much I meant it. "That's what... friends do."
The word felt inadequate, but it was safer than whatever was actually developing between us. Hope smiled—softer this time, less mischievous—and for a moment the weight of supernatural threats and ancient spirits seemed manageable.
"Same time tomorrow?" she asked.
"Assuming I survive whatever Klaus has planned for me tonight."
Her laughter followed me into the compound, a sound that made the glowing feet and vampire attacks seem like reasonable prices to pay for moments like this.
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