Oliver was a goner.

Or, he would have been, if Hayley hadn't asked Andra to spare him.

She agreed to it out of respect for Jackson, who hadn't been a traitor. Maybe he would want to talk to Oliver himself, maybe it would be more satisfying for Oliver to return to the Bayou with his head hung in shame, or maybe the Crescents had a particular trial that needed to be stood before deciding anyone's fate. Who was she to interfere?

Cami was more than happy to have Landon come to her apartment, especially given that was one of the days that Davina was going to have coffee with her. It left Andra and Ryan available to enact their plan, which was sure to go smoothly.

Oliver was essentially the Alpha, leading all the wolves who worked for the witches, but answering to the Harvest girl, Cassie, and her right-hand man Vincent Griffith. He was always surrounded by wolves, except when he was on his way to the meetings with the witches, where he was the only one allowed to hear what they had to say.

Andra and Ryan ambushed him in an alleyway as soon as the sun went down. The elder of the two perched himself on the rooftop with a rifle loaded with wolfsbane darts, shooting him down right as he passed where Andra was waiting to drag him behind a dumpster. She took off his ring, hurling it up to Ryan, who put it into the Subsume and held a thumbs-up, letting her know it'd worked.

"What are you doing?" Oliver slurred, waking up as he saw Andra leaving.

"I got what I came for," she said. "You should warn your people. They'll be turning into wolves this full moon. They shouldn't be in the city."

"But–"

She slammed her foot down on his arm, causing him to groan in pain. "But nothing. Let me guess, the witches promised they'd get rid of the big bad vampires, of the Originals, and like a fool, you believed them, despite knowing that if they could do it, they would have done it already. Either the witches in this city are stupid or they're just incompetent because if I was a witch, the Originals would have been dead long ago. You didn't want to bow down to Klaus so you bowed down to them instead. How do you like being on a leash, Oliver? The only reason I'm letting you live is because it's not my place to enact judgment. That... I will reserve for Hayley and Jackson. What they will do to you after how you let her baby die... I don't even want to think about it."

"Okay," said Ryan a few days later, once they'd delivered the Subsume to Klaus and Elijah for its destruction, "if you were a witch, how would you take down the Originals?"

She shrugged. "Literally walk in when they're not home, find the white oak stake by its magical signature. Wave my hands hard enough to snap their necks when I see them and just boom, boom, boom. Stab, stab, stab."

He hummed. "Not bad. Seriously, where is that damn white oak stake? Nobody can find it, not even Davina. She said Marcel asked her to look and she said she felt a block, like someone cloaked it." He was silent for a moment. "I bet I could find it."

Andra snorted. "No, you can't."

"Give me twenty dollars and I will."

"If you need twenty dollars as an incentive, you're not a very good finder, are you?"

"I could do it. It's made out of the same material as daylight rings, right? Twenty dollars could pay the shipping fee to get one of my magical artifacts down. The Magimundi, you remember it."

"Ah... the little double-edged hairpin that will find something else made of the same exact material if you tap one end to the compound."

"Yeah! Tap one end to the daylight ring and some wood, and it will tell me where it is."

"Why don't you already have twenty dollars? You've been working!"

"I'm saving money! I'm only a few paychecks in, cut me some slack."

Andra sighed, reaching into her pocket and offering him her card. "Go, do what you need to do."

She made sure to relay this information to Marcel the next day when he informed her that Elijah wanted to speak with Davina, to see if maybe she could give finding the white oak another try. Andra wasn't sure Davina was going to react well to that.

And she didn't. But not entirely because she was sick of the Originals trying to use her, but because she apparently had it in her possession.

"What the hell do you mean she had it?" said Andra, confused, as she pushed Landon's stroller toward Rousseau's. "Why would she have it?"

"Don't know exactly but I can guess why she'd want it. We need to get that stake back, Klaus will kill her when he finds out. I'm going to talk to her. Have eyes on her yet?"

"Yes," she said, stopping in front of the window. "Are you going to call her now? She seems..." she tilted her head, observing the boy Davina was sitting with, "...busy."

"I'm going to do it now, yeah."

"Just try to be gentle. Try to see her side of it, why she felt scared or angry enough to take it. Elijah's accusatory tone got it out of her before but I don't think another strict approach is going to do the trick this time."

"Will do. Have a good time with your brothers and Cami."

"There she is!" said Cami happily, holding up a glass of pink lemonade for her. "And there is the sweet boy!"

Landon squealed as Cami dipped down to tickle him. "Say, thank you for the invite, Cami," urged Andra as she unbuckled him. "Say, thank you Ryan, for the yummy food."

"Don't mention it," said Ryan, setting down three bowls of gumbo beside Landon's bottle. "Okay, everyone, dig in."

Landon babbled the entire time he sat on Andra's lap while she ate, continuously making faces at the gumbo but still eyeing every bite his sister took as if he wanted to try it. He tried to respond to their conversation despite his inability to speak, encouraged by the fact they talked back to him as if he was actually giving input.

"He's so right," said Andra, patting his back, "this is probably the reason there's so many people in here, the gumbo was very yummy today."

"Yeah, lots of people," said Ryan, noticing a man that kept looking at them. "Mali, four."

She pretended to check her watch, then casually set Landon back in the stroller to see the man out of the corner of her eye at her four o'clock.

"Lycan," she whispered to Ryan as she sat up. "Ryan, two."

He pretended to be sitting up to help wipe Landon's mouth, catching sight of another man who had a ring on his finger, the same black kyanite that they could have sworn was gone. Klaus hadn't complained of pain this full moon. The witches had been more prepared than they thought.

"Ditto," he said. "Count, unknown. Beer packs."

Cami didn't know what they were going on about, but Andra nodded, figuring he was right– if there were two in here, there were surely more; wolves operated in packs.

"Excuse me!" said a man behind them. "If everyone could start to clear out, we're closing for a private party."

"Stay calm," said Ryan, swiping his hand out before Cami could speak and say that there wasn't a private party; she should know, considering she worked there. "We'll see you at home, okay buddy?" He buckled Landon into his stroller. "Aunt Cami is going to get you home while your favorite siblings clean up and pay the bill, okay?"

"Walk quickly, keep to yourself, get somewhere safe," whispered Andra as she handed Cami the stroller. "We got this."

She reached into her pocket, sending Marcel a message that read 'Wolves at Rou,' before reaching into her jacket pocket for her knives.

"What's your rush, sweetheart?" they heard one of the wolves asking Davina as she tried to lead the boy she was with out of the restaurant. "Why don't you stay and party with us?"

"Get out of our way, now!" said Davina, holding her hand out and causing him to double over in pain. Every other wolf in the building stood up, over a dozen men surrounding Davina immediately.

"Bottoms up," said Ryan, hurling one of his own knives through the air and hitting one of the wolves right in the throat. "Dang, that slipped. Whoops."

The wolves converged on them. Andra and Ryan whirled around, standing back to back as they came for them, throwing Davina's friend across the room and shoving the witch aside.

"Are you craving meatball soup again, Ry?" asked Andra sweetly as she flicked both of her knives out, cutting and slashing to back one of the wolves into a table, then kicking him onto it to stab into his arm.

"Maybe," said Ryan, a wooden-bullet gun drawn and two shots fired right into the skulls of the nearest wolves. "But I think some steak would be better. Maybe with a few bones."

"Fetch," said Andra, ducking down at the last moment as a wolf barreled toward her, cutting upward and slicing open both thighs, letting him bleed out on the floor. She tossed one of the knives, which Ryan caught, stabbing into one wolf's throat while he shot another over his shoulder.

"What about a leash?" said Ryan. "Want to take them for a walk?"

"You read my mind," said Andra, grabbing at the string of one of the blinds, cutting it with her knife to wrap it around one of the wolves' throats, using his asphyxiating body to shield herself from the other wolves while Ryan found an opening to shoot them lethally.

She froze when the door opened, a figure speeding in to acknowledge the wolves that remained. "You filthy dogs," said Mikael, sneering and inviting them to attack him.

Andra snapped out of her daze long enough to go make sure Davina was okay, taking her knife back from Ryan and staring at Mikael, then at the bracelet Davina was holding, a guilty look in her eyes.

As soon as Mikael had ripped out the heart of the last wolf, she held both her knives up, blades pointed straight down and wooden hilts facing him, so he could see where the symbol of his clan was carved in.

"You don't remember me," she said, knowing he'd seen it when he faltered, "but I'm sure you remember this."

"Who are you?" he said darkly.

"I–"

"Father?"

Mikael turned around at the sight of Elijah and Marcel. "Hello, son. I'd hoped to see your brother first, but we have some unfinished business as well."

Andra and Ryan immediately jumped to shield Davina as the two vampires started to fight. Davina let out a gasp when Mikael withdrew the white oak stake from the waistband of his pants, slashing at Elijah's chest as he pinned him to the wall.

Ryan reached into his pocket, holding up a small water gun and blasting it toward the two Originals. They both let out grunts of pain, skin burning. Andra sprang up, running at them and stabbing Mikael in the gut with one knife, slicing across and opening a wound to shove the hilt of the other knife inside, hand bleeding as she gripped the blade to twist the wood inside him.

"You gave these to me for this purpose," she said, using the blade of the first knife to stab into the arm that was holding the white oak stake. "You said, 'Trick the beasts into thinking you have only a blade to use against them... then show them you are stronger than they could have ever believed by staking them with the end they wouldn't think you capable of using.'"

Davina held up her arm. "STOP!" she yelled at Mikael. "Go back, now!"

"D," said Marcel, shock washed over as Mikael clenched his jaw and zoomed out as soon as Andra withdrew the knives. "What–"

She just glared at him and stormed out of Rousseau's with no explanation.

Ryan pointed at the door, pursing his lips, "Shouldn't we follow her before she throws up a Cloaking Spell? No? Okay. Too late."

Elijah held up his hand, staring at Andra in disbelief. "You knew him. You knew Mikael."

"We crossed paths many times," she said in a small voice. "He trained me and–"

"No," said Marcel, standing in front of her. "She doesn't need to say any more, she shouldn't have to."

"It's fine," said Andra, pushing him out of the way. "This is the truth, Elijah: I worked as a mercenary, you know that, I got people killed– be it by my hand or by leading others right to where they were hiding. I was paid to hunt your brother down for Mikael and because of my network of monsters, it got him very close... every time... since 1702. I got money, training, and the chance to have a father. One who cared about me. Mikael and I were friends. He's the closest thing I had to a good father. I did what I had to do; I didn't know any of you. And I make no apologies."

He held up a finger. "Not a word of this to my brother. He can never know. Never. If he approaches you, you will say to him that you knew Mikael in passing but you did not realize until today who he was. You will never tell him that Mikael was a paternal figure of any sort for you. Never."

Andra nodded slowly, watching him leave.

"You shouldn't have said anything, Malia," said Ryan. "Now he knows. He could use it against you."

"I wasn't going to lie to him. He would have figured it out, anyway. And I don't see any reason to hide it. Times were different."

"Were they?" He eyed her closely. "What are you gonna do, Malia?"

"Woah," said Marcel, noticing how she looked at her knives. "No. He doesn't remember you, Andra, he doesn't have any idea that he once cared about you, if it can be considered caring."

"Mikael and Davina have the white oak stake. I intend to get it back. You'd die if Mikael killed Klaus, so would Josh, and so would those in your community who survived but aren't living here anymore. I thought Mikael was dead. He was– he was–" she struggled to put it into words, "I just need to talk to him, even if he won't remember. I can't just stay here knowing he's out there and not be able to tell him who I am."

Ryan gripped her arm. "How necessary is this? How much are you willing to risk?"

"You know, Ryan," she whispered. "You know."

He let go. "If you're not back in five days I will find you myself so I can kill you."

"Gee, thanks, you're so kind. Just take care of our little brother, please. I will be back soon."

Marcel sped into the doorway before she could leave. "Hey," he said, awkwardly looking at Ryan (who was narrowing his eyes) before he said, "Come back alive."

"I always do," she said simply.

Contrary to whatever Ryan believed, it was not too late to find Davina and Mikael.

She hailed a taxi when she saw Davina ushering Mikael into a car, having him drive as they made to exit New Orleans. She followed on the taxi until they stopped at a gas station, where she used the Maps app on her phone to try and figure out where they were headed.

She recalled Davina mentioning her family had a cabin in Terrebonne Parish as soon as she saw the letters being suggested as a possible location. She hedged a bet that that's where they were headed, and allowed them to have their head start before she paid the taxi driver a bit more to get her into the little town.

She caught them entering a cabin, and waited until morning to approach, knocking hard on the door, stuck tight to it so Davina couldn't see her from the windows.

"Andra," said Davina when she saw her, trying to shut the door in her face.

"Stop," said Andra, sliding her hand in. "I'm not here for you, I'm here for him."

"You knew him, didn't you?"

"I did. But you barely know him now... how is he even here?"

"I brought him back to life," she muttered. "He said he'd get rid of Klaus. But I can't let him do that until I unlink him from Marcel and Josh, so I've been trying to perform a De-Linking Spell these past months..."

Andra sighed. "Okay. We're not going to get into that. I just need to see him, Davina. I need to. I'm not going to tell anyone where you are. Just let me talk to him. Please."

Reluctantly, she let her in, leading Andra into the adjacent room, where Mikael was sharpening a knife.

"You," he said, standing and pointing it at her. "Who are you?"

She withdrew her knives, setting them down. "Andra Clarke. Someone you once knew. I'll explain," she dipped down to get rid of the knives in her boots and under the soles of her feet, "promptly. It will be confusing. More confusing than it was the first time I explained it to you. But–"

He pinned her to the wall, hand around her throat and knife held over her chin. Her feet couldn't even begin to attempt grazing the ground.

"You hate bourbon but you drink it anyway," she choked. "You had a daughter named Freya who you loved with all your heart, and when she died, it changed you; how could the gods have been so cruel as to take from you the beautiful golden-haired babe that you so cherished? The symbol of your clan is carved onto your weapons as a reminder that you carry the honor of your ancestors before you go into battle. You taught me to master pain, the warrior's true weapon." She tilted her head back as far as it could go as he dug the knife in. "How about you tell me how you found Klaus in the 1700s? Huh? How did you track him down?"

He stared at her, as if trying to make himself remember, but he couldn't. "The bastard was in Spain," he grunted. "Cadiz, 1702."

She smirked. "But how, Mikael? How did you get to Spain? Who told you where he'd be? Who led you to his doorstep?" She reached her hand up, holding his wrist and moving it so it intentionally cut her, revealing the dark 'blood' within her. "I did. I told you, I got you there. You just don't remember. I don't have a way to make you remember, I don't have any way to remind you that you once knew who I was, that you once taught me everything you knew, that you turned me into a warrior and you once knew exactly what Triad was, what a golem was, and what Malivore did to beasts. You can't recall the Monslayer you worked with but I remember it all. And you..." she hated herself for tearing up, "you were the closest thing I had to a good father. You told me I reminded you of the girl you lost. That if you didn't know any better, you'd say I was your blood."

He dropped her, letting her cough on the ground. "Malivore. I know that name. The pit. The creature that makes others be forgotten. I had not heard of that name since... 1934."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Ryan. You met my brother. You knew him, briefly... he spoke to you in 1933. Someone must have mentioned Malivore to you after he was gone, someone must have come looking for us... you do know enough. That makes it a little easier." She forced herself up. "I am the daughter of Malivore. I am the immortal golem, the Huntress of Beasts, and you and I were once friends. You were my mentor. And I found Klaus for you more than once. He couldn't even settle in New Orleans until the 1800s because I kept leading you right to him. They threw me in the pit. I was erased from your memory but I was there. I was there. We were friends. Good friends."

"Yet now you are aligned with him," said Mikael, pointing his knife at her again. "You sided with the bastard."

"I always worked for those who paid the most. Klaus gave me my freedom, to an extent. And one day he will guarantee me the defeat of Malivore. The death of my worthless father."

"You are weak for believing his promises."

"No, I am consistent. I have clung to the same morals, values, and rules for my work, just as you have. I adapt to survive and I follow the highest bidder, the strongest ally. Currently, that is him."

"Then here is a bid for you." He offered her knife back to her, "If what you say is true, you will help me kill him."

She smiled wryly. "Can't do that. I'm not Klaus's biggest fan but I won't risk my friend." And I won't take Hope's father from her. Unlike me, she has one who tries to be good for her. You can try to kill me for it but it won't work. And if you do, I'll have to try and kill you. I won't risk Hope falling because of your vendetta against Klaus. You already tried to kill her when Hayley was still pregnant. That girl has lost too much. And Hope staying alive is the only way I have a chance of being rid of Malivore permanently. Call me selfish. But I won't risk her, both for her benefit and mine.

She tucked her knives back into her jacket and boots. "One way or another I will get that white oak stake back to the people it belongs to. You can try to kill me, but I'll just pop back up, you once learned that the hard way so I hope you take my word for it this time. I doubt I can inspire you to let go of this anger but I will remind you of something I once said to you."

She leaned back against the door, crossing her arms. "It wasn't your fault you lost Freya. It wasn't that you didn't make her strong, she just got sick. It happened to many people in that time. You were afraid of losing another so you became stricter. But you took it too far. You hurt that boy and he never deserved it. It was not his fault his mother bedded another. It was not his fault he was not as strong as you wished him to be. But you know what is your fault, Mikael? The fact he went on to kill his mother. The fact he turned your children against you. Now they know the truth and they will stand with him permanently. You will never win. It will kill you again if you continue this fool's errand to get rid of him. Think of that little girl, that little angel whose death broke you. How would that girl feel knowing you wish to kill her brother?"

He flung the knife at her, purposely lodging it into the door beside her head. She didn't flinch. "Temper, temper," she said softly. "Your impulse weighs you down. A warrior thinks before he acts. And a warrior fights for the innocent, protects those who cannot protect themselves."

She reached for the knife, ripping it off the door and flinging it toward him. He caught it right in front of his eyes. "You beat that boy," she whispered, "you beat him when he'd done nothing to you. You are no warrior, Mikael. Freya wouldn't think so. She would be ashamed–"

He stabbed the knife into her throat, and she laughed, grabbing his arm to lower herself down gently, ripping the blade out and closing her eyes.

When she opened them, he was standing over her, eyes flaring angrily.

"So, what's it gonna be?" she asked, not moving. "Davina has a leash on you. You cannot hope to leave. I will have my way, guaranteed. The question is if you're going to make it easy for me, or hard. And if you make it hard, well..."

She crawled back up, cracking her neck, "I did learn from the best. And I never lose."

"So you say," he sneered. "You may yet be a deceitful wretch."

"And yet you once told me, when you thought I was asleep, that Freya had sent me to you."