"Marcel, wait."

He came to a stop in the ballroom, but didn't face her. Andra halted behind him, hoping she could help him somehow. "I will see what I can find out but in the event there is no other way, you need to prepare yourself. You have to be realistic."

He pointed an accusing finger at her. "Don't say that. Just because you think death is a game doesn't mean that's the case for everyone. You can joke all you want but some of us actually do still have people we care about that we don't want to lose."

She stared at him. "I will let that slide because you are worried for your daughter. But you have to accept that some things cannot be changed. I don't want her to die, but if she's going to die anyway, ripping herself apart from the inside... wouldn't the mercy of a quick death be better? Maybe the Harvest is real, apparently something was working. If she dies as she is now, I don't think there's any chance she can come back to life. But if she dies as part of the Harvest... well, I'd be willing to take that chance if I were you. Not everyone can be saved but you'll be even less likely to rescue her if you delay the inevitable. Stalling is causing her physical pain. Again, if I find another way, I will tell you. But we're crunched on time. She's running low on it, Marcel. Do you love your daughter enough to do anything to give her a chance of a healthy life? Or will you continue to destroy her by loving her too much? There is such a thing as that."

He rubbed his chin. "You can either help me or you can get the hell out of my way, Andra."

"I'm not helping you abscond with her if that's your plan; in which case I won't be getting out of the way, either."

He lunged at her, and she ducked, reaching into her boot for a knife and turning on her knees to stab him in the back of the leg, right in his femoral artery. She twisted the knife hard within him, pivoting one foot out and tucking it back in once she caught his leg, using his same momentum to knock him face-first onto the floor.

"You will kill her with your own stubbornness!" she said, ripping the knife out and crawling onto his back, holding it to his throat. "If you leave with her, you are giving up. And you are leading her to certain death. You can either brave through the unknown like a warrior and take a chance to save her or you can run off with her in defeat and end up having to bury her yourself. Don't let your pride kill your daughter, Marcel, she deserves better than this."

Rebekah ran in, having heard the noise. "She's right, Marcel," she said as Andra got off of him.

"I promised her I'd fight for her!" said Marcel, getting to his feet. "I'm not breaking that promise."

"No one is asking you not to fight. You're the only family that this girl has. You owe it to her to fight for her to live."

Andra didn't accompany them to the cemetery. She didn't think she'd be welcome. Through the rain and wind, she made her way to the Jardin Gris, holding up there until the storm passed.

And when it did, there was only silence in the city. She had a bad feeling even before she learned that the Harvest didn't work.

Rebekah contacted her (presumably having received her number from Klaus) to let her know that Davina and the other Harvest girls hadn't come back, even after the Mikaelsons agreed to let Sophie Devearux use the bones of their mother, Esther, to help her be the Elder needed to complete the ritual.

'All that power went somewhere,' said Rebekah in her last text. 'We just need to find out where.'

She mulled it over as she walked through the streets, wondering where Marcel might have gone at a time like this.

"I take it you're looking for me."

She didn't turn. "Marcel, I am sorry. I really am."

"What, no clever quips about how you were right? How you're always right?"

"This shouldn't have happened, I don't think. Something went wrong. We'll find out what. I didn't come looking to argue about what was done and what could have been different." She spun on her heel. "I wanted to ask if you wanted a drink. To just let it out, to vent or cry... I didn't know if you'd have someone to comfort you."

Marcel's jaw tightened. "I deal with my grief alone."

He sped off, leaving her to walk home by herself.

Before heading to the Compound in the morning to see if Marcel was there, she bought some flowers and went for a walk in the rain toward the Lafayette Cemetery, looking for any clues that might let her know what went wrong.

Broken graves sure did the trick.

"Here," she said, offering Klaus, Rebekah, and Elijah a post-it note when she found them in the Compound; apparently the other vampires were rousting the Cauldron with Thierry, who had just been released by Klaus (perhaps to help Marcel feel better). "I found three graves that were broken open, like something burst out of them or was ripped out. Coincidence? I think not. The names were Bastianna Natale, Alphonz Bellatunde Delgallo, and Genevieve Cotillard. No idea who they are or why there's only three of them but my guess is that they might know something. Divide and conquer, or what?"

"I will get to searching the city," said Rebekah, looking as though she'd seen a ghost. "If I find anything, I will let you all know."

Klaus made to speak, perhaps to tell her to do something else, but was silenced when his phone rang. "Diego, what is it?"

"We have a problem," Andra heard Diego say on the other line.

"This is a problem indeed," said Andra, putting her hands on her hips when she followed the Original brothers into the Cauldron, where two vampires were desiccated in a salt circle with runes around them, each bearing a distinct symbol carved into their foreheads. "Recognize it?"

"Yes," said Klaus. "We're gonna find whoever did this and I will show them what suffering is. Someone will die for this."

"Remarkably, I don't disagree," said Elijah, kneeling down to examine the bodies, brushing his finger over the runes.

"What is it?" asked Andra. "What does it mean?"

Klaus pointed at the vampires' foreheads. "That symbol is the signature of a fool who once stood against us."

"Perhaps an upstart witch salvaging old tricks," said Elijah. "However, given Andra's discovery of Alphonz Bellatunde's grave being disturbed... I would be inclined to say Papa Tunde himself has returned to continue this pattern of dark magic."

"I'll gladly kill him again," said Klaus. "Diego, when night falls, I want you to gather every vampire in the Quarter. Get me the head of Papa Tunde and put it on a stick."

Diego hesitated. "That's gonna be a problem." He gestured to the empty space beside him; some of the vampires had left the moment the Originals arrived. "Everyone is freaked out, man. We haven't had witches killing vampires in a long time. Marcel made sure of that."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Marcel has run off like a scared child. You lot are left with me. Now, if none of you will fight to defend our home, if none of you will stand with me due to fear over this new threat..." he gritted his teeth when neither Diego nor the other vampires made to support him, "I'll handle it myself. Elijah, find Rebekah and tell her to keep her eyes peeled for Papa Tunde. Andra, find him."

Apparently, this got Marcel out of his self-imposed exile.

"Go home," he warned, materializing beside her on Bourbon Street, "and lay low. There's a witch roaming around you don't want to mess with."

"Good morning to you, too," she said dryly. "I'm not afraid of any witch."

"That's the problem. You can be cocky all you want but it could get you killed this time."

"I dare this witch to try and kill me. In fact, if he manages it, I will welcome it with open arms. If you're not going to do anything to protect your own people, it falls on me. I don't exactly have a choice. I can't say no to Klaus. If you won't be helping me, just go be alone."

She continued to walk when he left.

Tracking witches was hard. Andra didn't know what they looked like. She decided a pit stop at the library was probably best, to see if she could find old records and at least get their faces. Human law enforcement officials could come useful here, putting out APBs on them. If anyone saw something, they'd call it in and it would at least give them a starting point.

She was just on her way to get the information to the police station when she received a text from Marcel, reading only 'SOS, Rou.'

"What the actual fuck," she muttered to herself. "What the hell is a Rou?"

Then, she recalled Rousseau's, which she'd passed by a few times. Of course he was at a bar.

But why did he need help?

She put a rush on getting there, grabbing a broken broom from an alleyway before skidding into the store, swinging at a man in a white suit who was kneeling over Marcel, laid on the ground and skin an ashen grey with bulged veins.

The warlock was thrown forward, but recovered far quicker than expected, flicking his hand and throwing her into the wall.

"Jeez," said Andra, forcing herself back up and noticing that Cami was crouched behind the bar, a phone in her hands. She probably sent the text. "At least take me out for dinner before you start slamming me into walls."

Marcel managed to get up, taking the same bit of broken broom to knock Papa Tunde's legs out from under him. Andra grabbed the two closest bottles of liquor, bringing them crashing into the man's head. He reached back to touch Marcel, causing the vampire to double over and leaving him unable to continue the cycle of back-and-forth hits, leaving the warlock an opening to stab Andra with a bone blade.

"Ow!" she said angrily, gritting her teeth as he tried to force it into her chest. He seemed surprised that it wasn't working.

"Why won't it go in?" he said angrily, pushing it harder into her chest.

"Bone blade," she panted. "Sacrifical Magic, right? You guys love to use body parts. Thing about that–" she tried her hardest to push his arm away, but he was too strong, "You have to have blood for it to work. Golems don't have real organs, or real blood..." she sneered in his face, "because we weren't made to absorb witches or their toys."

She let go abruptly, punching him across the face and dropping straight down as Marcel barreled forward, ripping Papa Tunde off of her and dislodging the blade from between her ribs.

She wheezed, plugging the wound briefly and grabbing a chair, tossing it into Papa Tunde with all her might. She staggered, feeling into her chest and confirming the tip had managed to puncture her lung. She concentrated, reminding herself she was only made in the image of humans; she didn't need two lungs to breathe, she didn't need to breathe at all.

As soon as she stopped feeling pain, she reached into her belt for knives, throwing one right into Papa Tunde's head. He howled, but ripped it out, causing both her and Marcel to cringe.

"Okay, that is disgusting," she said, lunging forward to try and cut him with the other one.

The door opened again, and Klaus Mikaelson swooped in. He grabbed Tunde in a chokehold, snarling, "I remember killing you. I rather relished it. What a joy it is to relive fond memories."

The warlock shoved his hands outward, throwing them all further away from him. "You're here," he said to Klaus. "Good. I can crush you before the eyes of your son. Then, I will consume all of– ugh!"

He doubled over, seemingly in pain. Andra reacted quickest, reaching into her jacket pocket for a small piece of wood, throwing it through the air and lodging it into his throat.

"You don't know the first thing about consuming someone," she said, ripping it back out and transferring the tip into his heart with one hard jab. "But I do..." she stood over him as he trembled, "and I will make sure I erase you."

She snatched his blade from his hand, slitting his throat to finish him off.

She twirled it in her hand as Klaus and Marcel stood, both heading over to heal Cami. "This is kind of cute, in a gnarly way," she said, observing the hilt. "Think I'll keep this."

"I'll have that, actually," said Klaus, not about to let her walk away with a weapon that could be used against him. Pouting, Andra handed it over. Klaus seemed even less likely to let her have it when he saw the puppy eyes. (Maybe he thought this was another playful attempt at seducing him.) As soon as he'd ensured Cami was alright, he sped off. Andra heaved a sigh, gathering her weapons and figuring she ought to take her leave, too. Marcel stopped her.

"Thanks," he said. "I didn't think you'd come."

"So you did text me."

"Had Cami do it. I was betting on the fact you really wouldn't be scared."

She shrugged. "Hard to be afraid or even know how to quit when nothing can kill you. If you'll excuse me, I do actually need to die for a bit, forcing myself not to breathe gets a little tiresome."

She cracked her own skull after throwing herself backward on a chair a good few times, not very used to doing it on her own; Ryan had almost always been there to help. It worked, however, and she was able to come back replenished and starving.

Marcel showed up after she finished eating and showering, holding up a bottle of expensive tequila. "Peace offering?"

"Sure," she said, scrunching her hair. "Any news about the other witches?"

"No, still can't find them. But at least Tunde is gone. Some of the vampires left, but there are still a few in the community. There's gonna be a church service at St. Anne's tomorrow, the grand reopening after the massacre."

"I'm not the religious type but have fun with that." She served them glasses, then poured a bit for each. "Bottoms up."

"Can you even get drunk?" he asked after they finished their shots. "The whole, no real organs."

"Nope," she said. "I do feel sick after too much, but there's no dizziness or vomiting. But that's the case whenever I have a lot of anything, it probably isn't because it's alcohol. My body isn't meant to process too much food, just enough to fit in, I guess. I have a very limited capacity in my stomach. Problem with that is that I'm always tired and hungry."

"Should have bought you something to eat," said Marcel. "Though," he noticed the dishes in the sink, "I guess you just whipped up a little something."

"What can I say? Dying really does leave me famished."

He frowned, staring at his glass, and twirling one droplet of liquid around in it. "I know it's not your fault Davina died. You wanted to help and you were just being reasonable. I guess I've never had anyone that was so brutally honest about what I should probably be doing in comparison to what I actually think to do."

"Impulsivity is a lot of people's fatal flaw," said Andra with a shrug. "Especially for people like us that like to control every aspect of our lives so we don't get hurt. Sometimes we make rash decisions, sometimes people get hurt. You learn from it, in time. I didn't get to this state of mind without a few... well, more than a few... traumatic experiences."

He served them more to drink. "Why can't you consume things the way Malivore does? If he wanted to make a race of golems like him, why not give them powers?"

"Maybe he wasn't able to, or maybe he didn't actually know how. I'm glad I can't consume things, can you imagine this adorable face with a crazily-unhinged jaw to munch on a pegasus? My mouth is plenty talented without that, thank you very much."

He smirked slightly. "Is the flirting a side effect of these traumatic experiences, or what?"

"No, the flirting is because I get bored easily. I need constant stimulation." She winked, then became serious. "Sometimes it's hard to stay sane in the face of all the awful things we witness. Ryan and I found that laughter was our preferred coping mechanism. We joked at the worst times and it made it more bearable. Even if I just make myself laugh and no one else... I find it a little easier to go through each day."

"I can see where that comes from," he murmured. "You do realize most people think you're being serious though, right? I think you left Klaus a little traumatized."

Andra grinned. "If they think I'm being serious, it's funnier for me."

"So... what happens when you actually mean it?"

"If I mean it, they'll know. They will, they just will. But I don't do relationships. I haven't in a long time. It gets tiresome, outliving everyone you care about and watching so many die in brutal ways 'cause that's how the job is... I haven't been with someone romantically since before I met Mikael, I think. Three centuries of no drama. It's lonely but I never really felt bothered by it because I had Ryan. We just kept each other company and promised one another that we'd find freedom one day so we could settle down and just be happy. I don't know what I would have done without him."

He noticed how she could no longer meet his gaze. "Sounds to me like you two always had each other and now he's nowhere and you're here. And you know that if he's in the Malivore pit, the only way to get him back is to kill the tribrid. Which you can't bring yourself to do because you are a good person. Just one dealt a shitty hand and taught to do whatever it takes to survive. You're alone and you know what you have to do to fix it but you refuse to because you have morals and values you abide by, always."

"Something like that," said Andra. "But I'd rather be alone and be a person I like than to make myself do something awful just because I can't stand being by myself. It isn't the best existence but... until I can make sure the tribrid will help me defeat Malivore so I can be free, I'm going to be alone, and I've accepted that."

"A normal human existence involves indulging in a lot of things. Maybe limiting yourself isn't the way to go here."

She snorted. "Make myself vulnerable by opening up while I'm not even fully safe myself? Just to lose someone else I love? Either Klaus kills them or my father will come for me or..." she shook her head, "It's not a risk I'm willing to take. I'm going to go to bed now. I think two drinks is all I should do after today. Goodnight, Marcel."

She went to the Compound during her break the following day, prompted by Rebekah to meet with the Originals.

"Monique Deveraux returned to life," she announced, just as her brothers and Marcel were returning from the church service. "Literally exploded from her grave today as Sabine was giving a tour of the city of the dead."

"What?" said Klaus in disbelief.

"The tourists thought it was part of the show, but the witches are celebrating like it's some kind of bloody miracle."

"Maybe it is," said Marcel. "They think that all hope is lost, but now suddenly a Harvest girl is resurrected. This is how we're gonna get Davina back– kill the witch who took her place."

Hayley cleared her throat on the stairs. "I have a theory about who one of them could be." She held up a series of portraits, apparently made by the late Harvest girl. "Céleste. I mean, it's got to be. Davina was trying to tell us, she was drawing pictures of Céleste. She was warning us that a great evil is coming."

Klaus rolled his eyes, facing his brother. "First, Papa Tunde returns to settle old scores, now your murdered lover is back. This isn't witches attacking vampires. They're declaring war on us."

Andra was not assigned a task for the day; she had a store to run, and apparently everyone felt they could handle the search now that Papa Tunde was gone. Marcel did let her know that if they did find the other resurrected witches, he'd be sure to tell her and ask if she wanted to help kill them. She'd never say no to that, not when killing them could lead to Davina coming back. She found that she didn't like seeing Marcel so upset.

Perhaps if she had helped, maybe things could have gone a bit differently. How, she didn't know. For one, she would have killed Sophie and Monique Deveraux instantly. They were unnecessary players, and Sophie had already proven she could get on their nerves quite easily. Monique simply had a resting bitch face that Andra didn't like (she knew it sounded awful but something about that cold glare really sent chills down her spine).

"So, double kidnapping, and attempted murder," said Andra, arriving at the Compound with coffee and donuts. "And... shirtless Elijah. Feels like I walked onto the set of a... you know what, wrong audience again. Donut?"

Hayley, who'd been staring at Elijah, took one. "What is all this?" She gestured to his skin, which had several names apparently tattooed over it.

"I need you to make a list of these names," said Elijah, flexing his arms.

The wolf bit into the donut, observing one in particular. "Sabine? Elijah, what is this?"

"I believe they represent the names of the women Céleste inhabited for the past two centuries."

"Body jumper," said Andra. "Nice, I'd heard about witches who could do that." They stared at her, and she amended her statement, "Not nice in this situation. But hey, you can't blame me for being curious."

Marcel offered Hayley a pen and paper. "It's called a Devinette. It's old school, kind of a riddle. Witches use them to teach their kids. Solve it, and it disappears."

"Why would the witches give you the answer to where they're hiding Klaus and Rebekah?" said Andra. "That's so stupid."

Elijah explained, "Céleste forced me to make a choice between Hayley and my siblings, regarding who I would save. Now she means to mock that choice, taunting me with a childish game. The longer the game, the more they suffer. To find Klaus and Rebekah, we need to solve this riddle. The solution lies somewhere in these names."

"Yeah, again, the intention is for you to find them. But why? Probably some sort of trap. They make you think you're safe, that you solved the riddle, then they hurt you too. Though, don't you guys have that white oak stake thing? The witches can't kill you so why take you captive at all? Nobody is a fan of torture unless you're in some really kinky cults– which I know nothing about," she winked at the group, which seemed to leave Hayley flustered (or maybe she was trying not to laugh because it simply wasn't the time to be joking around), "but seriously, why torture an Original who has probably been through worse?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," murmured Elijah.

Andra shrugged. "Well, then, you guys deal with whatever this is. I'm going to try and track them on foot."