The loud music pumped through the bar as the daywalking vampires drank alcohol without a care in the world because they were in the supernatural hotbed of New Orleans. The large Louisianan city was a place where no vampire feared the wrath of witches or werewolves and could relax into their nature.

A man with dark skin, brown eyes, and a shaven head that appeared to be in his late 20's although he was really 201 years old sat alone at the bar drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. The other vampires in the bar kept a wide, respectful distance but were discreetly looking at him from the corners of their eyes. The man knew that the other vampires were keeping an eye on him and a small smirk appeared on his lips as he sipped his whiskey.

Footsteps near the front door of the bar alerted him to a new presence and he lifted his dark gaze to the door in anticipation of the new arrival. His smirk widened when he saw the familiar silhouette of a slim body and unembellished tan skin of a young woman in her early 20's dressed in a floral sundress appear in the doorway to the bar. He pulled out his iPhone from his pocket and checked the date on the calendar before letting out an amused chuckle.

Bluish-green eyes framed with darkened eye lashes searched the crowded bar despite it being the middle of the afternoon looking for the man she came to see. Her full lips were pursed together as she placed a hand on her hip and used the other to tuck a piece of dark hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear.

The man at the bar watched in amusement as one of the other male vampires in the bar approached the young woman and she tilted her head to the side when he stopped in front of her.

"Hey, Diego." The young woman greeted the dark skinned vampire with a fond smile as she lifted her arms out to the side without him having to ask her to and he smirked at her in greeting before he gently patted down her thinly covered sides in case she was carrying any weapons that could hurt a vampire.

"'Sup, Imogen." Diego greeted the woman in return as he let his hands drop from her sides and nodded at her to pass by him as she smiled at him warmly. The man at the bar shook his head in amusement as he sipped the whiskey once again and then placed the bottle down as the young woman approached him with a smile on her face.

"Marcel." She greeted the man as she slipped on the bar stool next to him and he turned his body to face her full on with a smirk on his lips. "Your men do know I don't need a weapon to kill you, right?"

"What can I do for you today, Miss Imogen?" Marcel asked the young woman knowingly with a cocky grin as he ignored her pervious statement and she rolled her bluish eyes at him with a smirk on her lips as she leaned forward on her seat slightly.

"The same thing you have been doing for me every month for the last eight months." Imogen responded as she reached into the large purse and pulled out a white envelope with the word Pixie scrawled on it. She placed the envelope gently on the bar counter as though it was a precious gem and Marcel glanced down at the envelope with a fond smile as Imogen tapped a manicured fingernail on the paper.

"I don't know..." he drawled with a sigh even though they both knew that he would do as she was asking without much of a fight and Imogen placed her hand flat on the envelope as she turned her body to face him.

"I'll owe you."

"How many is that you owe me already?" he asked her with a smirk as he lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips and she quirked an eyebrow at him because she knew he remembered each favour she owed him. "Hmm. Eight. One for each month."

"Seven. Unless, you're counting this one." Imogen corrected him instantly as she crept the hand that held the envelope closer to him on the bar top and he reached out to place his hand on the envelope next to hers. Marcel leaned towards the young woman next to him so that his dark brown eyes caught her bluish one and she nibbled nervously on her lower lip as she plead with her eyes for him to do her this favour.

"I always say 'yes' to this." He reminded her softly as he pulled the envelope out from under her hand gently and Imogen smiled at him sadly as her hand fell on to the cold woodened bar top.

"All it takes is one 'no', Marcel, and then it's all over for me." Imogen retorted softly as she slipped off of her bar stool gracefully without breaking eye contact with the vampire and her heels clicked on the floor as she landed. Marcel looked at the sincerity in her bluish eyes for a moment longer before he turned his head back to the bar and grabbed the bottle of whiskey again.

"What are the other witches up to?" he asked her casually as he sipped from the bottle and Imogen shrugged her shoulder delicately as she tucked a dark strand of dark behind her ear.

"You know that I was kicked out of the coven years ago. Not even Sophie will talk to me anymore. Well, it's not like I want to speak to them anyway. Not after what they did." She answered darkly as she looked around the bar she that she wouldn't have to meet his inquisitive gaze and he nodded absently as she spoke because it was the same thing she said every month.

"Are you staying for the party tonight?" Marcel asked her with a charming smile as he held the bottle out for her to take and she chuckled lightly as she took the whiskey from him with a small smile.

"If you're lucky..."

"Friends with a witch, Marcel? How the mighty have fallen." A male British accented voice said from behind the pair and they both turned in surprise to see an attractive 5'11 man with curly light brown hair and light blue eyes smirking at them. Imogen gave the man a once over with a quirked eyebrow at the interruption before turning back to Marcel with a slight smile.

"This witch is leaving. Thank you, call if you want to collect." She said to him warmly as she pulled her handbag up higher on her shoulder and Marcel nodded his head in acknowledgment as he sipped the whiskey in his hand. The British man silently watched them with a smirk on his handsome face and sat down on Imogen's vacant seat as she walked towards the front door of the bar.

"Lovely girl." He said sarcastically as he watched her stop near the door to talk to one of the daywalkers and Marcel followed his gaze to see Imogen talking animatedly with Diego near the door.

"She's one of the only witch's in the quarter I trust even a teeny tiny bit." Marcel replied as he turned his head away from the young witch to give his mentor a charming smile and Klaus quirked an eyebrow at him with a smirk.

"Why would you trust a witch?" Klaus asked his protégé curiously as he took the bottle of whiskey from his hand and gulped a few mouthfuls of the burning liquid.

"Ah, because Imogen there has more reason's then me to hate the witches of the Quarter. Now I'm not saying I trust her completely but with little things like coming into my bar to talk to me, she's fine."

"Why would a witch hate her own kind? Doesn't the New Orleans coven practice ancestral magic and are all raised to honour the spirits?" The Original asked as he looked over his shoulder at the young witch who was laughing with some of the daywalkers familiarly and Marcel smirked at him knowingly as he leaned forward a little on his stool.

"Let's just say that Imogen, you and I all have something in common." The dark skinned vampire revealed covertly before sitting back in his seat and glancing over at the beautiful dark haired witch near the door.

"She's a bastard." Klaus stated as he looked over at Marcel with a sad smile on his lips and the other man shrugged one shoulder delicately as he sipped from the whiskey bottle.

"Nah, but she got the same treatment from her biological father." Marcel said softly as his dark gaze looked over at the witch once more with a smile before turning his body anyway from Imogen and Klaus raised an eyebrow as he looked over at the smiling young witch near the door.