The Compound was even nicer in the daylight.

"I'd fix a few things, but I must say this is a nice place," said Andra, examining the stairwell railing as they ascended to what was now (or had always been, technically) Klaus's study. "Once you get past the family crests stamped everywhere." She looked over her shoulder, saying sarcastically, "If only I had any inkling who lives here!"

Marcel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I think everyone believes the Mikaelsons are full of themselves."

"Hell, I'd be too with that reputation. Though, I think I'd have more portraits of myself. I'm surprised there's only one painting of Klaus."

"That you know of."

She smiled wryly as the hybrid appeared behind them, on the upper railing. "Well, I didn't exactly get a grand tour of the place. Care to take me on one? Preferably with a pit stop in your bedroom."

He didn't smile back. "Come in."

They followed him into the study. "Marcel tells me you're an acquaintance," said Klaus, standing by his own personal bar (really, Andra would love one of those) as Andra settled comfortably on the couch, looking out the window. "One who provides him information about the happenings of the city."

"Yes, I do," said Andra. "Given the change in leadership, he thought it was best to have us meet. I don't charge much for my services. Really, as long as you keep me safe, I'm all yours." She winked.

Klaus still didn't seem to be finding her very amusing. "Who are you?"

"I can be anything you want, darling," said Andra sweetly. "But to most I'm Andra Clarke. Long time mercenary and currently, just a manager at the Jardin Gris Voodoo Shop. I'm sort of retiring; the killing scene isn't really for me anymore. Sometimes you do outgrow such things. I'm not sure if Marcel told you, but," she reiterated the few points made to Marcel regarding what a golem was, who Malivore was, and what her existence meant, omitting the fact she'd worked for Mikael in the past.

"Immortal, then?" said Klaus dryly, eyeing her closely.

"Yes," she said. "I take it it has to do with the fact my organs aren't real. I can eat and feel my heartbeat just like a human, but I don't–"

He sped forward and snapped her neck.

She rose up, having been laid on the couch, a few minutes later. "Really?" she said, massaging her neck. "Three seconds and just, pffft. I thought you had more patience than that. Then again, I heard guys with poor stamina rarely do–"

This time, he stabbed her in the throat with his glass of liquor. It took a bit longer for her to wake back up, but when she did, she just smirked. "Did you have enough of that? When is my point going to be proved? I can't die, can't be compelled–"

He held the back of her head, forcing her gaze. "Stab yourself with this." He offered her the rest of the glass.

She didn't move a muscle. "Keep looking into my eyes like that and my knees will start to get weak," she said with a fake pout. "Thank goodness I'm already sitting down."

Marcel seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh. Klaus lifted her arm, biting in and eliciting a small gasp. As soon as he tried to feed, he recoiled, spatting out her 'blood.'

"Yeah," she said, making a face as he gagged, "when I said my organs aren't real, I meant it. No vervain, but also no real blood. Do feel free to get kinky whenever you want, though, I sure as hell won't say no."

She leaned back as Klaus went to discard the pieces of glass. "The terms are simple, Klaus. You need someone found, I do my best work. I don't think I can beat an Original Hybrid with a heightened sense of, well, everything, but I will try my best. I am trying to live the simplest life I can. It'll take actual payment to make me kill anyone for you. Let's see, what else, oh, yes, if you end up wanting to get me out of the city and out of your luscious hair, all you have to do is find my brother and I'll be off. Got that?"

"You ought to be more wary of the company you keep, Marcellus," Klaus muttered, as if he were a parent insulting his child's friend because he thought them a bad influence.

"You'll warm up to me soon enough," chirped Andra. "I can be quite useful. Well, now that that's out in the air," she pointed between the two of them, "go relax, you're both stiffer than a... well, I don't even think I should say it, this isn't the right audience. If you need me in any way... all you need to do is ask." She flicked a business card toward Klaus. "My number, in case you need to contact me. I live alone and the Jardin Gris sometimes gets lonely during the day." She winked before exiting the study.

Success. A person Klaus liked even less than Marcel who he couldn't get rid of. And though she wasn't what he wanted in an informant, it surely meant something that Marcel had come forth with her and had her help Klaus. And someone like Klaus wouldn't see her as a threat; she was powerless against him. He only stood to benefit from her. She was in the clear.

Andra gave herself a tour of the house while she let Klaus and Marcel bond, occasionally passing by the vampires who lived there and nodding to them. No one really cared to ask who she was or what she was doing; seeing her with Marcel had been enough to let them know that whoever she was, it wasn't an enemy.

She received a text from Marcel before she made her way to the Jardin Gris: 'You were right, Cami was a spy.'

'Of course I was right,' she replied. 'But I doubt you texted me just to say that. You know what it does to my ego. Get to the point.'

'I found out Davina only stayed where I had her at St. Anne's because she struck a deal with Elijah. Now, she's going to move into the Compound. Can you help her with her things?'

She texted back a simple, 'Ok.' Might as well meet the super witch everyone was obsessing about. Besides, if he was asking her to do it, it was probably for a reason. She would have asked him about it if she thought he'd tell her.

"Howdy," she said casually, leaning in the doorway when she walked up the stairs to the attic and found Davina packed and ready. "Marcel sent me to be your escort to the Compound."

The girl stared at her, bags in hand. "Who are you?"

"Name's Andra. Here, I'll take that one." She reached for one of the heavier bags. "One trip? Good. I have no idea which room will be for you but whichever one should be fine. That house has a lot to choose from."

Davina followed her, albeit hesitantly. "Marcel said someone was coming to pick me up but I didn't think–"

"You figured it would be one of the vampires? I'm not a psychic but I figure he thought a calm lady presence might be more ideal for this. Plus, I think most of the vampires Marcel fully trusts are on some impromptu wolf hunt in the Bayou. Gotta be cautious with this new leadership."

"You're not a vampire or werewolf... or anything I recognize. You're the one whose blood he had me analyze, aren't you? The golem."

"Yep. A new acquaintance and now, asset to the supernaturals of New Orleans."

"How old are you?"

"I like to say I'm twenty. But really, I'm four-hundred and ninety-one."

She nodded, as if to say that was interesting to her. Andra took her silence as a means to think about her, maybe preparing herself for what to do if she tried to harm her. She wouldn't blame Davina if that was her thought process.

The witch continued to be taciturn as they walked to the Compound. Andra was fine with it. She helped her set her bags down, then began to head out, stopped only by Hayley Marshall, who waved her over.

"Uh, who are you?" she asked.

"Andra Clarke," she said. "Not one of the vampires. You must be Hayley." She observed her swollen belly, an inexplicable sense of dread sending a chill down her spine when she looked for too long. She wondered if it was her own guilt or something else. Maybe the prediction that the tribrid could probably kill her. "Congratulations. Know what you're having yet?"

"A girl," said Hayley. "Um, you must be the woman Marcel was bringing to meet Klaus. The... spy?"

"And mercenary, among other things. I have worked as a midwife once or twice, though I'm sure Klaus doesn't know that. I'm just here to keep him informed. If you'll excuse me, I have to go to work. Anything you need, I'm at the family's service."

Hayley offered her a kind smile. "Thanks."

Andra knew she would never be able to hurt this girl, even if she did want the tribrid dead.

The Jardin Gris was boring. Perhaps because it was just opening again and everyone knew what had happened to the previous manager. Andra continued her organizing and served two customers total during the day. One suggested she make an Instagram for the shop; Katie had neglected that sort of advertisement. Andra pretended she knew exactly what they were talking about, while mentally screaming and wondering what the hell that meant.

(She learned later what Instagram was and started an account for the Jardin Gris. She earned one follower in the span of eight hours. An accomplishment.)

"Done for the day?"

"Just closing up," she said, locking the door. "How was your day with daddy?"

"Please don't call him that," said Marcel distastefully. "I learned a few things."

"And what lovely lesson did Klaus give you today?"

He walked beside her as she made for her apartment. "Turns out the witches roped him into all this. If he didn't agree to usurp me, they'd have killed his kid. He reminded me that our fathers held us in contempt from the moment we were born, and that he doesn't want that for his child. He's jealous of what I built. But I told him the truth, I didn't do it on my own. Klaus was the one who helped me get out of my father's shadow and taught me to be a man who can't be defined by anyone but himself. He agreed that we can rule together. As friends, brothers."

"Father, son," she murmured, though she understood how such a paternal relationship was still considered a friendship; it's exactly what she and Mikael had been. "Looks like you had a good day. Though, you don't look all that happy."

"Rebekah's not happy. Basically threatened to tattle about the 1919 stuff because she saw me chummy with Klaus."

"Did you come to ask me to dagger her? I'm sure I can find a way."

"Nah. It's fine. Figured you should know how things are going and what's at stake."

"If she knows what's good for her, she'll keep her mouth shut. Davina settling in okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. She's not exactly thrilled about being in the Compound and I'm not thrilled about her being there. But it had to happen."

"She seems like a good kid. One who's been through a lot. Just... don't neglect her. Never let her forget how much you care about her." She smiled weakly, "She deserves to know she's loved."

He stopped as they reached her door, waiting for her to get inside. "One more thing," he said. "He doesn't believe you're in this just to... be in it and be normal. He's certain there's an intended power grab."

She snorted. "If I wanted power, I'd have it. If I really wanted to rule New Orleans, I'd be doing it already. I had every chance to go with Mikael when he hunted Klaus, I could have helped get him killed a long time ago. But I didn't want anything to do with him, I didn't care who or what he was. Even now you know what I need and it certainly isn't to kill him. I am strong and powerful as I am. I don't need a kingdom or loyal subjects to define me, to make me whole."

She leaned over, whispering, "But if I did want to kill them for power, I know how I'd do it. I would have blown up your little masquerade party with ease, annihilating every vampire minus the Originals. Blown myself up, sure, but I would just spring back up and you'd all be gone. I would have said a big 'you're welcome' to Klaus and pledged my loyalty. I'd have done everything he asked of me, let him think he seduced me, made sure to plant ideas into that perfectly paranoid mind about how his siblings would be trying to hurt me, damage our relationship... I'd make sure he daggered them himself, get them out of the way. And when I promise the witches to get rid of the Mikaelsons once and for all, they'd make sure I had everything I needed to kill Klaus once his guard is already down then go for his poor, vulnerable siblings, ridding the world of vampires. I'd own this city."

Marcel stared intently back at her, raising a brow when she shrugged. "But I'd have to be really bored to do that," she chirped, with an eerily innocent smile. "Once I get an idea in my head, I see it through. After all, I fear nothing when I can't be killed. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Goodnight, Marcel."

He couldn't help but think that was a warning. Either to watch out for people like her, for those who might try to trick him or Klaus that way, or to make sure he knew that she wasn't messing around when she delivered threats. She wasn't someone to cross. And though he knew her 'network' apparently didn't exist the way it once did, he knew better than to challenge a girl who could go back to her father and return riding a dragon to burn down his city.

He wondered where she even came up with half the ridiculous things she said. He was starting to find it hard to stay serious when she started joking around.

She was told in the morning that Davina had left the Compound. Marcel had no idea where she could be, and asked if Andra had any time during the day to go look. She had no idea how she was expected to track a witch with no leads, but suggested checking all places familiar to Davina: the church, apartments of any friends she had, food places she frequented. A child who'd never fled the coop before wouldn't go to an unfamiliar place; they needed somewhere reliable to gather resources before leaving. Chances were she was still in the city.

"Just make sure you work fast," suggested Andra. "The witches will find out she's on the loose soon enough. Can't have them beat you to her.

It seemed this was good enough. Marcel found traces at Camille O'Connell's apartment, and one of his vampires, Josh, gave him a nudge in the right direction. He went to bargain with the witches to save her life, suspecting what Klaus might do to Davina for having run away. Andra was informed that evening that Davina and her friend had been poisoned. The boy had died but the witch survived thanks to Marcel.

"I didn't think you were going to be here," said Marcel when he stepped out of Davina's room and found Andra there with a small backpack. "Going hiking?"

"Spending the night," she said. "She may need some emotional support. I heard the whole reason she ran away was because you didn't tell her that the Elders were all gone and that she was safe. She thought you were using her."

"That wasn't my intention," he said quietly. "I just... I didn't want to lose her."

"I know. But I don't think Davina wanted to lose a friend the way she lost that boy, either. I know a thing or two about that."

He stared at her. "You lose a lot of people living for so long."

Andra half-smiled. "Yeah, you do."

She and Ryan had once tried to be happy, each encouraging one another to explore relationships and try to feel safe in their bodies after what their father put them through. But time and time again, even with just friends, something went wrong. Numerous times, the creatures they hunted killed those they cared about. Other times, Malivore made sure to consume their lovers to keep them loyal to him.

Marcel watched in the doorway as Andra sat on the bed beside Davina, stroking her hair with one hand as she used her shirt to clean away stray tears with the other. For someone so arrogant who constantly made threats of violence, she was tender with the girl, almost as if she was seeing herself. He and Andra had the same soft spot for children.

Which made him frown, realizing Andra didn't even know what she was like to be a child. Still, she knew how awful some had it, how those with power and strength hurt them. She'd been hurt plenty as an adult. Perhaps she was trying to keep them safe from early on, giving them the skills to protect themselves as grown ups.

"This will be difficult for her," Andra whispered, tucking Davina in properly. "Losing someone like that, she will partially think it to be her fault, the other part fixating that hatred on you, on Klaus, whoever helped it happen. She won't want to be vulnerable like that ever again. I only hope she won't close herself off entirely." What she didn't say was 'Like I did.'"She's still so young."

She slept in the armchair beside Davina's bed, waking up each time the girl began to whimper amidst nightmares, making sure she remained asleep until at last, in the morning, she opened her eyes, belly rumbling hungrily.

"Good morning," said Andra, rubbing the sleep out of her own eyes. "Breakfast will be here soon."

Davina sat up, scooting to the other end of the bed. "Why are you here?"

Andra shrugged. "Thought you might need someone unbiased to talk to. You went through something difficult. Processing grief alone isn't ideal."

The witch picked up on what she wasn't saying. She cared enough to make sure she was okay, even if she didn't know her at all. It didn't take a genius to realize Andra had been in her shoes and knew a thing or two about how one survives such an ordeal, emotionally.

The door opened, revealing Marcel was the one bringing them food. Upon seeing him, Davina screamed out angrily, "Go away!" She thrust her hands forward, tossing him into the wall and sending the tray of food right to the floor.

Marcel struggled to his feet. "Come on. You got to be starving. You haven't eaten since–"

"Since your best friend killed my best friend?"

"I think some time apart is best," suggested Andra, sad to see the scrambled eggs already mushy against the carpet.

Marcel insisted on staying, "Davina, I'm sorry about what happened to this kid Tim."

Davina scoffed. "I'm sorry you don't hate Klaus for what he did or want to make him pay."

"He'll pay for what he did one way or the other, but right now, I just want to make peace with you."

"Why? So we can be one big happy Frankenstein family?" She flicked her wrist, nearly slamming a vase into his head.

Andra got to her feet. "I'm only going to say this once. Marcel, you need to give her space, clearly she doesn't want to talk. How about I go get another tray of food and–"

Davina gagged abruptly, starting to cough. "Davina!" said Marcel, running to clap her on the back. "Davina–"

Klaus burst in. "What's with all the racket–?"

No one answered as Davina spit out a mound of dirt, coughing over and over again to create a growing pile of soil on her bed. Andra stared in disbelief, never having seen such a thing. Where was the dirt even coming from?

"Bloody hell," said Klaus. A second later, when Davina stopped coughing, the house began to shake violently.

Andra lunged forward, laying her body on top of Davina's and shielding her head, feeling as the girl's face began to grow hot, now beaded with sweat. When the shaking stopped, she sat her up, pressing her inner wrist to her forehead.

"She has a fever," said Andra worriedly. "Shh, shh..." she massaged her shoulder until she settled down, curling up and trying to rest her body.

Rebekah took a turn to check on her while they spoke downstairs.

"This is madness," said Klaus. "How can a sixteen-year-old girl shake the entire French quarter?"

Marcel paced the study. "I've seen her rock the church, but I've never seen anything like this."

"How did you control her when she was in the attic?"

"I didn't have to. But then, I never killed her boyfriend."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. We've been over this part already. The point is in her present state she's useless as a tool against the witches."

"I wouldn't say 'useless,'" muttered Andra. "This is dangerous. This is chaotic. Something is really wrong, it does not strike me as being caused only by her emotions. Wouldn't it have been equally if not more traumatic when the Harvest initially took place? Three of her friends died, her mother turned her back on her..."

Elijah seemed to agree, "I agree, this is something else. She has too much power that she cannot control. That much we already knew. But why is it manifesting itself in such an aggressive manner?"

He made for the door, which seemed to irk Klaus, "Where are you going?"

"This is witch business," said Elijah, not facing them. "Let's ask a witch."

Sophie Deveraux had an explanation for them.

"Davina is a ticking time bomb at this point," said Sophie to Andra, Marcel, and Elijah after the other two Mikaelsons had already gone to explain this to Davina and another ally, Father Kieran. "As she self-destructs, she's going to cycle through the four stages that represent the four elements that bound together the Harvest. Earth stage comes first, hence her vomiting dirt and the earthquakes. Then comes wind. Tornado-like drafts that would blow through the city and then transition into the water stage. Rain, flood, we could have a whole hurricane. Each stage is worse than the one that came before it... so you can imagine what'll happen when it reaches the last stage, fire. We don't have time to waste. The first sign's already come and gone."

Marcel balled up his fist, "So fix her!"

"She can't be fixed, she can't be saved. This will not stop at the earth sign, and if you wait it out, you immortals will be the only ones left to argue about it. We need to complete the Harvest and we need to do it now. She will come back to life during the Reaping, we will perform it immediately after."

As she finished speaking, a strong wind began to blow through the Quarter, forcing their windows open and sending papers and even small objects flying around the room.

"Convinced now?" asked Sophie when it stopped.

Andra noticed how Marcel's fingers were growing severely deprived of blood. "How about you go and check on her? See how she's doing." Better to have him walk away for a bit.

"We sedated her too heavily," murmured Elijah as Andra followed him and Klaus downstairs to assess the damage.

"Well, if this is her sedated, I'd hate to see her otherwise," said Klaus, picking up a fallen chair. "We all agreed that Davina must be sacrificed. There's no need to let her blow the roof off our heads in the meantime."

Marcel appeared on the second floor balcony, "No way! You're not touching her!" He leapt down, punching Klaus across the face.

The hybrid rubbed his jaw as Elijah pushed Marcel back. "Okay, I'll let you have that one."

"Surely something else can be done," offered Andra. "Can't the power be put away? I've seen witches abandon their magic. If she were to put it into someone else, someone we care nothing about, or even an object..."

This seemed to intrigue Marcel, but Elijah shook his head. "Marcel, no one wishes to see Davina come to harm less than I, but there is no scenario here in which we simply wait this out. She's going to die."

"Yeah, according to Sophie, the witch who screwed over everybody here!"

"The Harvest was working before it was stopped. If a nonbeliever like Sophie Deveraux can come to have faith that these girls will be resurrected, then I, also, am a believer."

Andra wasn't sure she trusted a ritual she knew nothing about. It was possible it was very real, but with any reality there were loopholes. There had to be something they were missing.

Marcel refused to be satisfied with this course of action. "I saved Davina from the Harvest, and now you want me to just hand her over?"

"Do you think I'm happy about this?" asked Klaus. "If the witches complete the Harvest, not only do they regain their power, we lose our weapon against them. The earthquake I was willing to chalk up to hideous coincidence, but these winds? If Davina is not sacrificed, then every inch of earth that shook, everything blowing about now will soon be drenched in water and consumed by fire."

"Oh, now you care about the city."

"We ought to," said Elijah tightly. "We built it."

"And we all saw it burnt to the ground twice," said Klaus. "I will not let that happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

Marcel glared at him. "Yeah, yeah."

Andra followed after him when he stormed out.