All he knew for sure was that Ava, the vampire he had made, the woman who had shared his bed just hours ago, needed him. Elijah shoved away from his desk and charged through the house, slamming the door behind him as he raced toward the bayou.

He found her trail quickly, as he knew her habits. She hunted in these marshes, catching lost travelers and stray bandits, and now and then he had hunted there with her. The marks of her passage were almost invisible, nothing but a broken reed here and a footprint-size puddle there. Fortunately, Elijah knew what he was looking for, and his eyes were sharp. He followed one clue to the next, working his way through the sucking mud and waist-high grasses. He did not want to think about what it meant that he had to track Ava like a deer, that he couldn’t sense her through the bond they had once shared.

He almost stumbled over her prone body before he saw it. Ava Duquesne lay on her back in the swamp, with her long legs at a strange angle and her hands clutched like claws at something just out of her reach. But all he could look at was the ragged hole where her heart had been torn of her chest.

- The Originals: The Loss, Chapter 6