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Niko dreamt.
It had not been a good evening so far. Joel had been eager to get to the kitchen, and Niko hadn’t found the chance to tell him about Jimi and his coven. He’d hoped perhaps that one of the others would be outside the kitchen, to warn them both, but Joel’s incessant chatter as they walked downstairs was a solo voice in the townhouse.
Hannes had tried to distract Arde whilst Niko and Joel sat with the Endarkened. It had worked to a point, but then Joel went to get some breakfast for them both, and had somehow managed to catch Arde’s eye.
And then Arde had looked at him.
Niko hadn’t been able to actually see it. All he’d seen had been the golden flash of curls as Arde’s head turned, but he’d somehow felt his gaze, and all of a sudden he was back in the trees, on his hands and knees after tripping. Leaves were stuck to him, and he could only freeze as Arde padded closer.
Back then he hadn’t recognised Niko. Back then he’d just known Niko as the blind fledgling the blood witches had come to help, but now Niko felt the rank sourness heavy in the air, felt the tiny charge of magic in the air just before Arde uttered his name.
He hadn’t lashed out. He’d just insulted him, but somehow that was worse. There had been something horribly crowing in his voice, hidden under the calm, like he realised what it meant that Niko had become the thing he once killed.
Hannes had commanded the conversation again, talking about coffeehouse debates even though he hadn’t left the townhouse since his rescue, but Niko had shrunk back into the shadows. He didn’t feel like feeding anymore, so he’d snuck out with the Endarkened, following them up the main staircase before going to find somewhere to hide. He’d kept to the walls, groping about in the darkness so he didn’t trip, following the faint traces of light he could see ahead of him. He’d emerged out onto a little balcony, sneezing a little, and it had taken a few moments for him to realise he was on Aleksi’s dusty mezzanine. Once he’d realised he’d crumpled to the floor, swallowing down the panic that had been threatening to swallow him since he’d walked into the kitchen.
Images flashed before his eyes, of the witch with his broken fingers, blue-lipped and sodden from icy water, and Niko had bitten his lips to stop from keening so hard they bled.
I wanted him better, but I didn’t want him here. Nothing could be done, so Niko had just closed his eyes and tried to count his breaths.
Once Arde’s horrified face left his mind’s eye others had come and gone, flashing past him like mayflies. Tears spilt hot down Niko’s cheeks, but rubbing or closing his eyes didn’t stop the faces. He curled up in a ball, hands over his ears when they rang with the ghosts of screams, wondering when it would end.
When it did, it left him utterly exhausted, and he fell into a slumber, but he still couldn’t escape the ghosts.
He was back at the nest, but it wasn’t the cozy home he knew. The witches were leaving, Hannes calling over his shoulder that he’d be back to check on them in eleven weeks, but something was horribly wrong. The daylight felt wrong where Niko was standing in it, like pins and needles on his skin, and Joel and Joonas bore twin smirks whilst Aleksi glowered in the corner, in on whatever was going on but distrusting.
“What have you done?” Niko asked, voice thin and raspy from thirst. He was untied, but that did nothing to ease his fear. Joel and Joonas were fast, and they were full of rage. He could run, but he’d never make it a yard before they jumped him.
And he was weakened from malnourishment. He’d had stew and bread, and yet nothing seemed to fulfill his horrible thirst and hunger, and something was so very wrong.
“Thirsty, are we?” Joonas asked scornfully. Niko gave him a sharp look, heart thudding hard.
“What have you done?” he repeated, hating how his voice wobbled. He swallowed dryly, feeling his palms tingle, clammy, and wiped them on his filthy pants.
This time it was Joel who spoke. “One drop, that's all it takes. After everything you’ve done, you deserve this.”
Niko’s vision blurred, and he swiped the tears away angrily. “What have you done?” he asked, even though he knew. Deep down, he knew what they were talking about.
But he didn’t want to believe it. How could he possibly ever be one of them? He was Niko Vilhelm, the greatest hunter in the world. He defined himself by the parasitic blood he spilt, so how could he just be one of them?
“I read your final thoughts, Vilhelm,” a voice from behind him said quietly. Niko turned to face Hannes, wondering how he was still here if he’d gone.
Hannes’s face was a cold mask of rage, and next to him green tendrils floated around Arde’s shoulders. He looked utterly disinterested until Niko realised he was smiling, though his eyes were more vacant, his face younger. “You gave up. You wanted to die. But you don’t deserve that. You’ve destroyed everything you’ve ever touched. You’re a walking blight, and you don’t deserve the peace of the grave. This is what you deserve, and this is what you shall suffer.”
“What have you done?” but this time it was a numb whisper. What they’d done couldn’t be undone, and now he was left to live with it.
Around him, they all started laughing. They were close now, encircling him, and no-matter which way he turned he couldn’t get free. Panic swirled, and-
Niko jolted awake to the sound of Joel calling for him.
He sat up, disoriented by the strange light before he remembered seeing Arde and escaping to the mezzanine.
“Niko?” Joel asked. From the echo, he was below Niko, in the parlour, his footsteps ringing out. His tone was frantic, and Niko rolled over, an awfully familiar melancholy settling within him. Two years, and yet was he really any better? Two years, and what had he done to right his wrongs?
“Niko?” Joel called, and he sounded almost right below Niko.
I still don’t get what he sees in me.
He knew Joel had a grudge against his sire. Joel had even said that he and Joonas looked after fledglings because they’d both been so neglected, but was that kindness or spite? Did Joel really love him, or did he just try to spit on his sire’s memory? Was any of it real, or was Niko just a non-entity in this whole thing?
But why should Joel care about me? Niko had destroyed his whole life. He should be rotting in his base, but did he deserve that sort of peace?
I shouldn’t be here. Joel could do better. He could do better, and the nest could thrive. Niko could find a way to sneak out, and then he could find his own way. They’d all do better without him. Why had they never been able to see that? He deserved nothing but hatred, but now he had a chance to put this farce to an end.
Joel wandered off to another part of the house, still calling for him. Niko felt his eyes burn with tears at it all, barely daring to move.
Aleksi found him there a short while later.