King of the City
Klaus sat on the balcony of his lavish fifth floor flat, overlooking the lively night activity in Bourbon St. New Orleans. A glass of one hundred year old scotch idled in his hand as he reclined back on a vintage French Revolution chase that had been in his family for over three hundred years. It had been eighteen months since he'd returned to this city that had been his home so long ago. Once there, he'd realized what a fool he'd been to leave, dragging his siblings with him on the pretext that they would soon be discovered and hunted once more. Leaving seemed the most rational decision at the time and yet now, as he thought back on it he realized that it was nothing more than a coward's failsafe; running for fear of being hunted down like a dog. A smirk broke out across his chiseled features at the irony for he was in fact, for lack of a better term, a dog—a werewolf.
Even on return however, Klaus hadn't meant to remain in New Orleans for long; he had specific business, to discover the witch Deveraux's plan against him and what her purpose and motive was behind it. Of course it hadn't been as open and shut as he'd originally hoped…hell, it never was. Once he'd come across Deveraux he was too late. The eldest Deveraux was murdered at the hands of Marcel and he was instantly caught up in the swirl of a conspiracy plot, orchestrated by the younger Deveraux witch, Sophie involving a startling revelation that he'd fathered a child with Hayley. He soon learned that the witches planned to use her and his unborn child as leverage to enlist his help in the overthrow of Marcel's archaic rule in hopes to regain their place of prosperity and prestige in the French quarter. In the weeks and months that followed, he submitted himself as a pawn in their deadly chess game, gradually inserting himself into the inner circle of Marcel's associates, eventually gaining access to the heart of Marcel's most trusted friends and family. He shook his head, grinning at how quickly and easily he'd infiltrated Marcel's forces but a part of his mind still hung on the troubling fact that even though he'd been Marcel's mentor and close companion for decades, Marcel seemed completely unaware of his movements and motives. After the violent incident at the club when Klaus assaulted one of Marcel's men in retaliation, he was certain that any attempt at rekindling any level of trust between himself and his former protégé would be extremely difficult if not impossible. But even Klaus underestimated his own skill and cunning; it had been only too easy to smooth over the temporary rift between the two men, enabling him to move forward with his plan. Of course, it wasn't always easy going; as a part of the witches' coo, he was subjected to the constant watchful eye of Sophie and her associates. Weekly midnight meetings were non-negotiable as Sophie insisted on being kept apprised of Klaus' progress and Marcel's movements. For himself, Klaus cursed every waking moment he suffered being the witches hunting dog but he stemmed the insupportable situation, reminding himself that each day brought him closer and closer to reclaiming the right to King of the city and all the power and loyalty Marcel possessed would finally be his.
At length, his conspiring train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the urgent footsteps of his older brother and companion, Elijah who came bursting through the French doors that led out onto the balcony.
"Honestly Elijah, you hardly have a flare for making a dramatic appearance; that's always been my style, don't you think?" Klaus grinned snidely, not glancing up as his brother approached him.
"Honestly Niklaus, I hardly think that 'a flare for the dramatic' really suits you; that's always been Rebekah's forte."
Klaus scoffed, taking a generous sip of scotch and savoring the slow smooth burn sliding down his throat. "Perhaps so, although I believe our dear sister always takes it a bit over the top when it comes to the dramatic."
"Well hopefully she's put a hold on her 'promising Broadway act' in exchange for a more subtle supporting role—this letter came for you, Rebekah's handwriting is on the label."
Klaus set the glass of scotch aside and took the letter from Elijah's outstretched hand. Brandishing a letter opener he broke the seal and read:
Dearest Nik,
I know that your business in New Orleans takes precedence over the needs of your family; however at this moment I am not writing you on behalf of myself. Something terrible has befallen Mystic Falls in your absence and I fear the possibility that Tyler and your former hybrids may be behind it. I've met with the Salvatores as well as the Bennett witch and they share my suspicions that it is something connected to you. This however is not the worst of it—Liz Forbes was the first to head the investigation of mysterious disappearances and it was soon discovered that only the founding families were being targeted, specifically the mothers. Upon further investigation, Liz received a series of threatening letters, warning her to back off from the investigation or suffer the consequences. Liz headed them too late, in favor of her 'duty to protect the citizens of Mystic Falls' and as a result was viciously attacked a fortnight ago.
I don't pretend to be desirous of involvement but Liz Forbes has information—though limited—on the possible elusive suspects and their fear of being discovered will doubtlessly lead them to eliminate the threat of Liz—and anyone close to her. I'm not sure what information she may have—if any—but it must be damaging to their purpose and the Salvatores also believe that whoever had access to this intel will be in certain danger. As a result of the attack, Liz has been hospitalized in a heavy medically induced coma; she's in critical condition—Caroline knows of her mother's enemies and of her own endangerment but she refuses to leave her side. We've tried to keep a close watch on Caroline as well as Liz but you know as well as I do that in the face of brewing enemies, it's nearly impossible to maintain the safety of all involved while hunting your target at the same time! We've done all we can.
Nik, I can only hope that despite your hatred towards the Salvatores, Elena and the Bennett witch, that you will not allow that to compromise what you do best—Elijah once told me that he still believes there is good in you; a reservoir of virtue in the depths of your black heart that can still be saved. He has perhaps been a truer sibling than the rest of us in keeping faith that you are still the descent man you once were. Please, come home both you and Elijah. As soon as you can.
Your sister
Klaus' hands shook and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the letter in his hands, his eyes scanning the lines that regarded Tyler, the hybrids, Liz…and Caroline. He read them and re-read them over and over, his jaw tensing and his stance rigid. He scarcely read the closing sentiments before the letter was carelessly discarded, its previous handler frantically bursting indoors. "Book the next flight to Virginia, I don't care if its coach, the bloody cargo bay or if you have to compel us a private jet, just get me that damn flight now."
Elijah noticed a certain level of intensity and panic laced in his brother's voice; one he'd never quite encountered before but upon a brief examination of Rebekah's letter, one word jumped off the glossy champagne stationary, causing Elijah to spring into immediate action—"Caroline."