He still took her captive.

"Oh, this is so painfully unnecessary," Andra groaned, boredly flopping against the bed in the room he'd put her in, having just woken up after he'd dragged her there the night before. "You picked the worst room!"

"Hey," Marcel said from outside, having returned from seeing Davina, the girl refusing to give Elijah back despite him wishing to make peace with Klaus after last night's fiasco. "I'll toss you in the dungeon if that's what you prefer."

"You didn't need to kidnap me!" she exclaimed. "I would have come quietly if you asked me to spend the night. I never say no to sharing a bed with a handsome fellow."

"You think your little quips are cute but I assure you they're not."

"I just mean you are a terrible kidnapper. A blow that would have killed me were I not what I am, delivered to my head to get me here. Terrible technique! And then you made a mistake, choosing this room. It's ugly and it is filled with objects. I assure you I can still make weapons out of all these things with my bare hands." Sitting up from the bed and reaching for one of the vanity drawers, she yanked it out, chipping the backboard and detaching it from the metal rod that held the drawer in place. With one hard push, she broke it off, then used the metal to scrape the piece of wood, doing her best to carve it as loudly as possible. "There, I have a weapon now. Some food would be nice!"

"If you're intending to kill the first person I send in with food, I'll happily let you starve."

"I need something to do! I've already told you I've no intention of killing vampires unless they hurt me. I only wish to enjoy myself and do everything but the job I was assigned. I always scope out the towns I mean to settle into, to see what I am working with. My only goal at the moment is to have a life where I can attend ridiculous parties and even have a mundane job I despise. It is quite unnecessary for you to keep me here. I recommend you let me out before I start a fire and burn you all. I'll rise from the ashes like a phoenix but you, dear Marcel, will be burnt to a crisp as you were meant to in 1919."

The door swung open, and she smiled, seating herself back on the bed with the makeshift stake on her lap, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"How the hell do you know that?" he said gruffly.

"I know everything about you," she purred, getting up and striding closer and waving the stake in the air. "I know everything about this city. I studied before I arrived, and even though I hadn't seen the sun since 1812, it was all too easy to find out about your history here with the Mikaelsons, who I have been familiar with since the start of the eighteenth century. I still have contacts that can tell me all that I need to know, but what I presently do not have is a way to find the one person I wish to be with– my brother. Help me, and I'll get out of your hair. If you can't find what I seek, then let me go, allow me to live my life, and we can be on good terms."

He wagged a finger. "That's it. The job you were assigned has to do with the Originals, doesn't it? That's why you don't want to do it. You make it seem like you were scoping out danger but you were assessing the targets."

"And what do you plan to do? Tell them about me? Hand me over? I'd simply tell them about how you and Rebekah had a witch summon Mikael here in 1919... presumably after you were unable to get my help with it. See how that doesn't work out in your favor?"

Marcel was only getting more agitated. "Who sent you? Nobody is supposed to know that, no one alive–"

"Please, darling," she said, playfully pouting, "you think you're the only one in the world who has hired a hitman? I have been a mercenary since long before you were born. For nearly three hundred years, would have been five hundred to this day if I had not been incapacitated. I knew Mikael very well."

He scrunched up his nose, immediately assuming the worst. "God, no," she said with a snort. "My problems with my father were severe but I still had the sense not to see him in that context. He'd have sooner killed me."

"You hired Mikael in the past?"

"He hired me."

"Why would the father of the Originals hire a human as a hitman?"

"I'm not a human."

"You sound like one. You may be experienced and apparently immortal but you're still as breakable and weak as a human. You want to be let out of here? Indulge me. Until then I'm not letting an unidentified potential weapon roam around my city."

"'Your' city," she taunted. "What makes it yours, Marcel Gerard? Did you find it? Did you toss down the first stone to set its foundation? Many communities have lived here before you were born, stretching back centuries. I was created right here on this land in 1520. Exactly three hundred years before you were brought to live here by Klaus Mikaelson. Two hundred years before the city was founded at all."

She let the tip of the stake brush over his shoulder. "What makes you its owner? You think because you rebuild it after Mikael's destruction that you have a claim to it? That it makes you a King? I see no throne. I see no castle. If this is meant to be your fortress then it is poorly made. I know you slayed the wolves, I know you have the witches fearing for their lives. But it makes you no King. It makes you a tyrant."

She twirled the stake between her fingers before he could take it from her, tucking it behind her back momentarily. "I believe out of every single creature alive today, at this moment, living within the borders of this city, I am the one with the oldest claim. Perhaps I should be the Queen. I certainly wouldn't have the world's mightiest creatures trembling under an overgrown child hand. I'd have worked harder on unification rather than domination. Then again, you vampires have always been so pompous, so possessive."

She flicked the stake back up, catching it and setting it over his shirt, scraping the threads and threatening to rip it, "You came from nothing, so you made yourself a King. It is admirable, but is it right? How does power taste, Marcel Gerard? Is it everything you hoped it to be? What is your true motivation? To get back at the Mikaelsons because you believe they abandoned you? They thought you dead. Or is it perhaps something different... something more personal... perhaps you are controlling this city to protect someone near and dear. That girl, Cami? No, certainly not, you have more chemistry with Rebekah Mikaelson than with that angelic girl."

He seized the stake from her, tossing it across the room and glaring down at her. "You're ballsy, for someone trapped inmy home, in my kingdom, under my control."

"This is Klaus Mikaelson's home, is it not?" she asked sweetly. "And as I established, this is more fitting to be mykingdom, not yours. Do you really have control over me, Marcel? I am happy to prove to you that I can escape this room, but then, I'd be left where someone like your old pal Klaus could find me, and he could very well give me what you cannot... and I always serve the highest bidder. I helped Mikael not because I hated Klaus but because Mikael found me first and paid me very well. I could be your downfall. Or I could be your weapon. The truth is, however, I genuinely don't wish to be anything more than a simple person making a living. Then again, I always adapt to my circumstances. I do what I need to do to survive. Sound familiar? Let me go. Go on, it's the right thing to do."

"Who are you trying to find?" he said. "Your brother? What's his name?"

"Ryan Clarke."

"No middle name?"

Andra shrugged. "He is older, he gave me one, but I could give him none. Find him and I will be out of your hair. Fail, and I will keep being a thorn in your side until you let me roam this city as I see fit. I've no intention of meddling with whatever you have going on here. But I will if you continue to disrespect me. I will rain hellfire down on you, I will use every skill The Destroyer bestowed on me to decimate your army, and I will make sure you are the only one left standing so I can kill you myself."

"You are bold to assume you have the strength to kill me." He gripped one of her arms, turning her around so he could twist it behind her back, pressing her up against him. "I can easily just–" he tugged, and she bit her tongue to conceal a grunt of pain as he dislocated her shoulder, "And what can you do to me now?"

She laughed darkly. "Strength doesn't come only from the physical. As a wise man once said, 'The ability to endure pain is a warrior's true weapon. Master that, and nothing holds power over you.'"

"You sure as hell are arrogant," he whispered in her ear.

"Forgive me, my dear, I am not a mirror," Andra cooed. "Perhaps that is why we seem to despise each other so much."

Ignoring the pain, she used his same grip to drop down and turn, worsening the dislocation but freeing herself from his grip and swiping her legs out to knock him off balance, enough to barrel into him, pinning him to the wall and revealing that she'd had a second piece of wood in her sleeve, which she now pressed to his pulsating throat.

"Am I as strong as you?" she murmured, letting one splinter poke at his neck. "No, I am not. But no vampire hunter ever is. My strength comes from experience, from wisdom, from the ability to not succumb to pain even when I cannot heal my body the way you can. You don't know all the ways I can successfully kill you... you couldn't even predict the way I'd set up any of the twenty possible traps. I can kill you. And I think I want to. I'll take your crown for myself and build my throne with the bones of your vampires. Your skull will sit at the top of it, as my headrest."

"Sure," he said, not believing her, though he did gulp when she lifted her leg, pressing her knee into his groin. "You talk a big game but if you were as efficient as you claim to be, you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"Don't test me, Marcel Gerard. You've no idea what I'm capable of."

She stepped back, taking one deep breath and popping her shoulder back into place, tongue pressing hard on the inside of her cheek to conceal a whimper. "Now, I need a knife and a cup. I will drain my blood into the cup, and you will have a witch do a Locator Spell to find my brother. As soon as I know where he is, I'll be gone and you never need to see me again. I will forget this pleasant interaction and be out of your hair," she made a sly gesture to his nearly-bald head, "permanently."

"And if he's nowhere to be found?" asked Marcel, reaching into his pocket for a small knife.

"Then I'll be just another New Orleans civilian. Listen to my heart, Marcel Gerard, am I lying when I say I want nothing to do with this job and am hungry for the normal life? Something I've never had before?"

He narrowed his eyes, watching as she took the knife and began draining her blood into a small vase, given he didn't offer her a cup. "So, you were hired by someone and you don't want to do your job. Even though you are probably being paid well. I take it you're being asked to mess with someone the Original Family cares about. Either you don't want to take the risk or you think what you're being asked to do is wrong. Hmm... no, I think it's the latter, not the former. You were willing to work with Mikael knowing what Klaus would do if you were caught. You risked enough talking to that psychotic man. So, you do have morals."

She feigned shock, gasping playfully. "Indeed I do. A mercenary with feelings and a sense of right and wrong? You've just won the lottery."

"So why hide in the city where you're supposed to complete this job? Why not leave even if your brother isn't around?"

"I don't run," she said simply. "I never have. And I like it here. There are strong allies to be made. Because if the person who hired me finds out I didn't do what I was told... I will need allies. Those who help me will be glad they did so. Because this is not someone to be messed with. I want out. I will get it no matter what I have to do."

He seemed to understand; maybe he was more sympathetic than he'd been before. "Well, a word of advice, you're not going to make any allies with that attitude."

"I think it's that attitude that shows people I mean business. You will be thankful to be my ally if they come for me."

"'If.' You really think they won't?"

"They can't. At least, not to my knowledge. I need some down time to re-establish a pipeline of acquiring information. Everything about this world still confuses me. Once I'm armed and ready to tackle any problem... I can determine the next step."

"Hmm. I don't buy the fact you like this city just 'cause you were 'created' here, whatever the hell that means. Unless something you need is in this city."

He was good, she had to give him that. The thought had crossed her mind– befriending the Mikaelsons rather than antagonizing them by killing their unborn child. When the child inevitably grew to have the full power of the tribrid, she'd use their blood (or their power, if they were willing to help) to destroy the pit. Malivore would be gone. She would be free forever.

That was assuming the tribrid wouldn't kill her first. Assuming the Mikaelsons didn't immediately toss her back into the pit to keep her away from their little one. She figured if the tribrid could defeat Malivore, the tribrid and its family could defeat her, too. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

"I could compel you to tell me the truth," he said when she didn't answer.

"Only vampires can compel," said Andra lightly. "Thus, outside of humans, only vampires are susceptible to it. I am neither human nor a vampire."

"And you're not a wolf or witch either. What are you?"

She sat on the bed when she finished giving blood, holding her wrist and batting her eyelashes at him. "Light on my feet, very flexible, great with my tongue."

Marcel rolled his eyes. "The sooner you're gone, the better."

She made another few weapons while she waited for Marcel to come back. When he did, the news didn't seem to be very good.

"It turned up nothing," said Marcel. "No blood relatives. And the witch I used didn't sense a Cloaking Spell. Your brother is gone."

Andra's jaw tightened. So he's in the pit, most likely. Ryan can't die. "Well... at least I know. I'm truly starting to get famished, might I pop into the kitchen for a snack before I go on my way?"

"You're not going anywhere. People don't just disappear. And your reaction doesn't seem to suggest he's dead, considering you said you can't be killed. Where would he be?"

"Why would I waste time explaining something to you when you're not going to understand it?"

"You keep beating around the bush but I'm going to find out what you are sooner or later. I already have a witch analyzing your blood."

She slammed the weapon she was holding (a flower-shaped wire made from the bed coils and the rods holding the lamp's lightbulb, twisted to make sharp ends that could cut anyone she slashed it at) against the footrest of the bed, getting to her feet. "Did you or did you not do the Locator Spell?" she asked venomously. "If you are intentionally keeping me from my brother, you will regret it."

"Relax," said Marcel, holding up his hands. "I did have the witch look. He's nowhere. I have someone looking into it; maybe he changed his name."

"He wouldn't do that. We have never changed our names, we always make sure we can find each other." She turned away. "He's imprisoned, just like I was. Ryan is all I have. The only one he could hurt to make me do this."

Marcel held out his hands. "Let me guess, the person who hired you took him as leverage?"

"That or Ryan went looking for me after I disappeared. He might have been trapped this whole time. He chose to release me, he probably thought I was more likely to get the job done."

"You make no sense."

"Because you know very little about the world and why vampires, witches, and werewolves are the only supernaturals you believe to exist," said Andra. "Can't say I blame you. Why would anyone ever believe that dragons, mermaids, nymphs, and unicorns were ever real? Haven't you ever thought that whoever came up with it must have seen it somewhere?"

He made a face. "What, you're going to tell me you're a mermaid, or something?"

She decided she might as well test him, to see if he'd even believe her. "No. I'm not anything. They used the term golem but that might not even really encompass what we are. There is nothing special about us aside from the fact we are immortal. We can never grow sick, never die. We look the same our whole lives."

"So when you said you were created... you mean the whole clay and mud and someone made you look like this? If I cut you, will you bleed mud?"

"I'm just like a human in every way. My blood will be darker but it's still blood, in some form or shape. There is only one of us with unique abilities and higher powers."

He narrowed his eyes. "The guy that hired you, I take it? I know a thing or two about the most powerful member of a species controlling those around them. I've never heard of golems aside from when witches use them for spells. I would hardly count them as a species."

"There aren't many of us. I don't know how many siblings I even have. Ryan is one, for sure. There were others I didn't meet, many destroyed when they proved just as inadequate as us. I am the first female golem, and Ryan is the first male golem. In the sense those before Ryan weren't viable in any way and those between us were just as disappointing. I don't remember many being created after me. We can't procreate, so we're useless."

It seemed Marcel was believing her. He was clever and cautious, that was for sure. Better to listen and try and find a lie while also taking a chance to learn potentially important information about impending danger than to dismiss her as a liar.

He could hear her heart. She wasn't lying. Whatever she was saying, she believed it to be true.

"And you chose to use your existence working as a mercenary?"

"We needed a way to earn money and we were made to hunt and kill anyway. To appease our creator. For all intents and purposes... our father."

"Your employer is your father, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What would a golem want with the Originals?"

"Well, just think a bit harder and you'll have your answer."

He stared at her blankly. "I can't see a golem being threatened by the likes of Klaus Mikaelson. I was raised by him. He taught me everything about the supernatural world. I'm sure he doesn't even know golems exist. Wait. You said Mikael hired you."

"And I found Klaus for him several times. You're right, he probably doesn't know we exist. Mikael and I didn't exactly attack together." It dawned on her that he had no idea that Hayley Marshall was an expecting mother. He probably didn't know that Klaus Mikaelson was going to be a dad at all.

Klaus doesn't trust Marcel, that I know for certain.

Marcel is pretty bad at gathering intel. That, or the Mikaelsons are relatively good at keeping secrets.

"The point," said Andra, "is that I don't intend to do what my father wants. I want to find my brother and be free. After what we were put through to try and appease him... I will fight to have the life I want. Believe it or not I am tired of this existence. If I could end my life, I would have done it a long time ago. I don't fear it, I crave it."

He stared at her, noticing for the first time a look of defeat in her eyes. She really did mean that she just wanted to live a normal life. He wasn't sure what her father must have put her through but it was evident that she held a lot of hatred for the man who created her. And he had to admire that she wanted to find freedom with her brother. Maybe she came off as selfish, but it was evident that she cared deeply for someone other than herself. Wherever her brother was, he knew this girl would stop at nothing to find him.

"Convincing enough for you?" she said. "I know your type, Marcel. Untrusting, arrogant, controlling, even the type to taunt people. You don't like not knowing things, you don't like when things are out of your control. You are wary of new faces that could pose problems because you came from having nothing to building this city again from the ashes and earning your place as the leader of this kingdom. You hate everything you perceive as a threat to that stability, anything that could rid you of what you created. It's impressive. Making a name for yourself outside of the Mikaelsons despite having been one of them for a long time. You're a smart man. You know I'm not lying and that I'm not a threat to you. I just want to start fresh. I need to."

He rubbed his chin, considering her words. "You said you needed allies. And it seems you're good at finding things out and getting stuff done. Go on. Tell me something I don't know."

"Cami was brought to the party as a distraction by Rebekah and Klaus Mikaelson," said Andra simply. "They were eyeing you the whole evening and Rebekah mentioned a distraction. And she left right as that vampire, Thierry, was brought in looking like a scolded child. My guess? He was set up. I was shocked that you immediately dismissed Thierry as a traitor, but I think Klaus knew that, and he played into your jealousy and ambition, knowing you'd do just what I predicted you would... eliminating anything that threatens the control you have. I don't know exactly what he aims to do but something tells me it has something to do with that saying... keep your friends close and your enemies closer. No more best friend, so who do you turn to? The man who raised you. The previous King perhaps wishing to reclaim his throne."

Marcel considered her words, having a sinking feeling she was right. "So... Cami is most likely compelled. A spy for Klaus."

"It's what I would do if I were him. I'd feed her the wrong information if I was you." She tilted her head, noting the look on his face, "You already told her something, didn't you?"

"Told her about helping me with a girl I'm mentoring at the music festival tonight," he muttered. "She said no, though..." His phone chimed and he took a peek, jaw tightening. "And now she said she changed her mind... the girl needs her help and she's happy to oblige."

Andra shrugged, "Either she did really have a change of heart or someone wants to use it to spy on you. Any reason why Klaus would want to spy on you?"

"I may be keeping his brother captive."

"Hmm, that does explain it. Well, you just have to lead him on a false trail. This girl you're mentoring, who is she?"

He closed himself off immediately. "Well, you've proven useful. My door's open. I assume you need a place to live? A job? I can get you something of that nature."

"Someone you care deeply about," Andra reasoned, noting how protective he became. "Well, keep an eye on her. Yes, I would actually like a place to live and a job I will surely hate within a day." She made for the door, expecting he'd let her walk out. "A word of advice... don't let Klaus know that you're aware of any of it. The spy or what he did to your friend. If he finds out you know, he'll be looking to figure out how you became aware of it. I'm not trying to pop up on the Mikaelsons' radar and I... am very easy to get information out of with the right motivation."

"Wouldn't expect anything less," muttered Marcel. "I'll have a vampire escort you to a place. And I'll have them give you information on a few available shops. Food service, retail, that sort of thing. I'm sure you'll have a blast."

Andra turned on her heel, leaning in the doorway. "You know what does sound like a blast? This music festival that's happening."

"My guys are going to be everywhere," he warned. "And if you're trying to stay off the Mikaelsons' radar, I'm not entirely sure I can tell them not to hurt you. If Klaus gets wind of me protecting someone..."

"Oh, of course, you can't be seen as a benevolent king in any way. Don't worry, I know how this works. It puts you and me at risk. That's fine. But like I said... I have no intention of killing vampires unless I'm in danger. So you best tell them to behave."

"Wait, Andra."

She'd just been about to leave again. "Woah there, Marcel," said Andra, wiggling her eyebrows. "Someone might start to think you want me here for other reasons."

"Very funny," he said dryly, holding his hand out. "Let me put my number in there. Anyone gives you trouble, you let me know. Right now, I'm the highest bidder. So anything you find out about the Mikaelsons, you tell me. In exchange, I'll send you a few things about what's been going on in the city, help you become aware so you're not walking around oblivious."

She handed him her phone, watching as he put his number in and then texted himself to save it in his own phone. "Move them," said Andra smoothly, tucking her phone back in her pocket. "The kidnapped brother and this girl you care so much about. Klaus will have to start on square one if he's getting anywhere close to finding them. As for the struggle for this kingdom... brace yourself. I heard Klaus never liked sharing as a child."

He laughed dryly. "Funny. Wonder where you heard that one from. Listen... if you really want to be free, all you have to do is say something and tell me everything you know about golems. I know a thing or two about being kept somewhere against my will."

Andra mimed the motion of tipping her hat despite not wearing one. "We'll see how good of an ally you turn out to be. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to see how stocked your pantry is. Really, Marcel, if you ever expect anyone to do you favors, don't starve them."

"Can't imagine you'll be as flexible if I feed you. What if I wanted to test a theory?"

She cracked a smile. "Very good. Perhaps you'll be a decent ally after all."