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"Hey! Don't poke around my brain. It feels...weird," Nikolaus barked angrily. He shivered and dropped his eyes to the floor. He stared at the dark wood for a brief moment before meeting my curious stare. "Look, I didn't mean to get pissy with you. I’m still wrapping my brain around finding my sister after 28 years. I forget what it is we can do. It’s just been a long time since anyone has had the ability to get inside my head. Mom always knew what I was going to do…”
A-ha! Our mother. She'd been the last person to have the ability to mentally communicate with him. No wonder he’d had such a visceral reaction to my mental invasion.
"I'm sorry, Nikolaus. I shouldn't have even tried. I'm just used to doing it with Stefan." I unfolded myself from the chair and moved to sit beside him on the couch. He wrapped his heavily tattooed arm around my shoulder and drew me to him.
"S'ok, Josie. We have a lot to learn about each other."
That was the understatement of the year. I had a laundry list of things I needed to mentally sort through. I could easily add getting to know my brother to the list.
"That we do. " I rested my head against his arm. "She was the last one that was able to..."
"Read my mind? Yeah. I could never lie to Mom. Not that I had reason to then, but Mom always knew." Nikolaus smiled softly as he finished my thought. It quickly faded into a scowl.
"Our Mom was the best liar of us all. She kept all of Kian's secrets, Josie. Even the ones that hurt her the most."
"Nik.." I began.
He raised his hand to stop me. "Josie, it doesn't hurt to talk about her so much anymore. I've had 28 years to come to terms with it. You need to know what she was like. She was your mother too."
His voice was harsh and strained. He was bitter and it showed, from the tension in his shoulders to the razor-sharp bite of his words. He rubbed his free hand against the worn denim of his jeans, his long elegant fingers sliding over the material. I studied the sleeve of tattoos on his arm. A bright, orange dragon was coiled around vibrant flowers that varied from blues to yellows. In sharp contrast, a deep purplish-red bird rose from the claw of the dragon. Its glaring difference stood out in the sea of colors. I reached out to trace the bird on his arm with my fingers.
"I still have to come to terms with it. I find out my father abandoned me to our uncle after killing our mother. That's going to take a while to wrap my mind around," I muttered sarcastically, not looking up from his arm.
"Go back for a minute. Our uncle?" Nikolaus questioned. He pulled his arm away from my curious fingers. "You lost me."
"Hold on. I have something for you to read." His tattoos forgotten, I jumped up from the couch and hurried down the hallway to our bedroom. Garrett's book on Napoleon was still on the dresser with the note still inside. Grabbing it, I rushed back into the living room, plopping back down next to my brother. I carefully extracted the note from the middle of the book and held it out to him.
He eyed the folded letter suspiciously, his gaze flickering between my hand and the note. He didn’t make any attempt to move.
"What's that?"
"Dammit, Nikolaus. It's a letter, not a grenade. Just read it." I fought to keep the exasperation out of my voice. I couldn't help remembering my own reluctance to read this very piece of paper and had to fight the smile. We were definitely related.
He snatched the letter from my hands, unfolding it carefully. His green eyes scanned the length of the paper, finishing quickly. He refolded it, balancing it on his leg. His eyes appeared to be out of focus, trained on a spot on the wall.
"Our uncle wrote this letter to you 15 years ago, even though he'd been threatened not to tell you anything. Not to mention he had our asshole of a father figured out," Nikolaus muttered more to himself than me. "Exactly how and when did he die?"
The bluntness of his question was shocking. I found myself instantly being transported back in time to when my adoptive parents died: a frantic late night phone call, a unclear memory of a car ride to the hospital. Watching their caskets being lowered into the ground and the overwhelming knowledge that I was totally alone rushed over me like it was yesterday. When I spoke, I sounded far away and haunted. "Four years ago. Our aunt and uncle died in a car accident. My dad, I mean Garrett, ran off the road and hit a tree. They were both killed instantly."
An uneasy stillness hung between us. Nikolaus eyes burned like green fire, his mouth tightening into a frown. "You know it was no accident, right? This has Kian written all over it. Jesus, I hate that fucking bastard. First he killed our mother, then our uncle. No one is safe."
Sinking deeper into the couch, I was shocked into a stunned silence. Kian wouldn't sink that low, would he? Surely he didn't kill Garrett and Meredith. He wouldn't.
He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Don’t be naïve. Hell yes he would, Josie. I'd be fucking shocked if he wasn't behind it. You'd be much easier to approach without a parental figure around that you trusted and that hated him out of the way. Our father just didn't bank on Stefan finding you so soon.”
"First, the same rules apply. Don't pick through my head. Second, why wouldn't Stefan find me? He'd been close before. He told me he only missed me by two days once before."
"Kian has kept Stefan occupied on a revolving door of 'assignments', most of them involving the recently departed douche bag Derek. Anytime Stefan would come close to finding you, he'd send Stefan off to do some manufactured dirty work. If it wasn't so evil, his plan would be fucking beautiful." Nikolaus stood and walked to the windows. He stared into the distance, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “It’s just a matter of time until we’re next. We know too much.”
My brow creased in disbelief. Obviously I’d misunderstood what he said. "Manufactured dirty work? You don't mean..."
Nikolaus laughed dryly. "That Kian brought false charges on vampires so Stefan would be preoccupied in carrying out his assigned job versus finding you? Yes, that's exactly what I mean."
"But how do you know?" I asked reluctantly. Part of me didn't want to know.
"Let's just say I went on a fishing expedition while you were gone, spending my time picking through various vampire brains. It was informative. Disgustingly slimy, but surprisingly informative."
Rubbing my forehead with the heel of my palm, I rehashed out our conversation. Fear, anger and outrage all fought for dominance as the pieces slid into place. "He sent Derek to Bali, didn't he? Derek said he was sent to retrieve me. Anna just happened to be in the wrong place."
