Crossed [2] ➳ K. MIKAELSON

Chapter 5

Kol's POV

I hate my brothers. Because of them, I'm being dragged to a dinner party with our mother and her accomplices. I would rather spend my time tracking down the Westphall siblings with Davina. After I change into the suit Elijah left for me, I exit my room and meet my brothers down in the dining room. 

"Are these outfits really necessary?" I question my eldest brother, adjusting one of my jacket sleeves. I'm not the biggest fan of wearing suits for family occasions. They almost always end in death.

"Appearance is a way of showing respect, Kol. Mother will be more likely to surrender her true intentions." Elijah details, slightly moving one of the dinner plates. Our brother scoffs at his comment.

"Well, I doubt her guard will drop just 'cause we're dressed like bloody lawyers." Nik mutters, gesturing towards his outfit. 

Rolling my eyes, I wander around the room, blocking out my brothers' conversation. I really don't want to deal with their drama right now. All of a sudden, I feel a powerful presence enter the room and turn to see an unknown figure standing in the doorway. 

"You three haven't changed a bit." the man states, chuckling at the thought. Gesturing between my brothers and I, he continues. "Linens and silk to disguise your pathetic self-loathing. Lost in your own thoughts of utter madness. And you--despite the arrogant façade, you're still the same paranoid little boy, full of hate and fear."

Crossing my arms, I narrow my eyes into a glare towards the stranger. Who does he think he is to come into our house and insult us to our faces? My eldest brother approaches the man, holding his hand out to shake.

"Forgive me, I don't believe I've had the pleasure." Elijah greets, before the stranger feigns offense with a hand to his chest.

"Oh, you mean you don't recognize me?" he questions, smirking at the confused expressions on our faces. "So much for the unbreakable bonds of family, huh? Always and forever indeed."

Who the hell is this man? Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a sudden look of realization pass over Nik's face.  

"It's been a long time, Finn." my hybrid brother grits out, as I roll my eyes in annoyance. 

Oh bloody hell! Why couldn't Henrik have come back to life instead? He was always much better company than this lapdog.

~~~

For some strange reason, Elijah is trying to make our psychotic brother feel welcome by serving him some wine. If it was up to me and Nik, he would be hanging from the balcony with a slit throat. My now eldest living brother twirls the alcohol around in his glass.

"What an aromatic bordot." he states, wafting the wine. Rolling my eyes, I take a large gulp of mine, biting my tongue to keep myself calm. Nik swirls the alcohol around in his glass, before smirking up at Finn.

"Well, it was a challenge to find a good pairing. What wine goes well with treachery?" my hybrid brother questions our mother's lapdog. 

"Don't pout, brother." Finn voices, grinning menacingly at the three of us. "Tonight is meant to be a happy occasion."

If he doesn't watch the words spewing out of mouth, my brother is going to lose his head. Nik and I will make sure of it. Our eldest brother whispers something to one of the servers, who then promptly leaves the dining room. 

"What exactly are we celebrating?" Elijah questions him, narrowing his eyes at the witch. I lean forward in my seat and raise my eyebrows in interest. What game is Finn playing at?

"Why, my return, of course!" our eldest brother exclaims, causing Nik to let out a loud snort. "Remember, I spent nine hundred years -- right? -- lying daggered in a box. I'm rather enjoying this new body. Strolling about your lovely city that, uh, you've made your home. But, do tell me - what'd I miss? Regale me with your contributions to society! Medicine? Philosophy? Art? Or have you three merely cut a path of destruction across time?"

My hybrid brother and I both roll our eyes at the idiot, as Elijah clears his throat. All three of us have had our hobbies over the years. Nik with his art, Elijah with his music, and me with my witches.

"The last time we met, brother, you were helping our mother try to annihilate the lot of us! Let's not throw stones in glass houses." I grit out, smirking at the glare appearing on Finn's face. 

Before the witch can retaliate, the server from before reenters the room with another plate and set of silverware. She places everything down at the seat next to me. I thought we already had a spot for Mother. 

"Are we expecting another guest?" Elijah questions our eldest brother, who nods and chuckles at our confusion. 

"Mother will sit at the head. And, as for the seat across from me, that's reserved for another of our clan." Finn explains, as the three of us lean forward in interest. "Care to wager an educated guess? How about a Petrova one? Or should I say Mikaelson?"

No. That's not possible. She wouldn't betray our family like this, unless it was completely necessary. Elijah and Nik send me concerned looks, while Finn smirks on in satisfaction. 

Glaring daggers into my eldest brother's face, I pick up my steak knife and throw it at him. He uses his magic to deflect it into another seat, before I walk over to and push him to the ground. Positioning my foot onto his chest, I press down against his ribs. Finn moans in pain, as I lean down to him.

"Where is she?" I question Finn threateningly. When I receive no response, I push down harder, earning a scream of pain. Now we're getting somewhere. 

"I would tell him, brother, before he does something worse than cracking ribs." Nik warns, causing Finn to let out a sigh. He knows our brother's right about how far I'll take this. 

"810 Bienville Street. Apt. 207."