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Brick had, on the surface at least, left him alone.

Still, Nick couldn’t exactly make himself feel grateful.

“And how we got here?” Nick studied his sire’s face, arms folded. “There was no ‘mission’ in South America. Was there? That story you told me, about a cave in South America, about you and I ‘falling through accidentally’ while on some kind of op with Black and Miri? None of that was true. That’s not how it actually happened, is it?”

Brick sniffed.

Again, he fussily adjusted one of his sleeves.

“No,” he conceded.

“Howdidit happen, Brick?” Nick asked, a touch colder.

Brick looked up, his red eyes sharper. “I thought that was the purpose of your little project with Lara? To discover that on your own? Why would you askme,when you’ve already told me, in no uncertain terms, that you do not wish my help? When you soveryclearly won’t believe anything I say to you? Even when I am trying to protect you?”

Nick frowned.

Again, he couldn’t exactly disagree with any of Brick’s words.

Whywouldhe ask his sire?

Whywasn’the taking Brick’s warning about Lara more seriously?

Nick surely didn’t trust Lara, either. If he had to choose between them, he trusted her even less than he trusted Brick, and that was saying something.

Yet Brick was also right about Nick not wanting his sire’s help with regaining his memories. He couldn’t believe a fucking thing the older vampire told him, no matter how convincing it sounded.

With Lara, at least he’d have Tai.

And Malek.

And maybe, like Brick, Lara had her own reasons for wanting Nick to remember.

“I will leave you with one thing from our mutual memories, offspring,” Brick said suddenly, his voice clipped. “If you will permit me to share?”

Nick fought not to roll his eyes.

Fucking Brick.

Even if his sirediddeign to feed him some meager snippet of truth, Nick wouldn’t be able to tell which parts of it actuallyweretrue, much less how it had been twisted to meet some other narrative or emotional pull.

Still, curiosity was a hell of a drug.

“Whatever,” he said, annoyed. “Sure. Fine. Tell me.”

Brick’s full lips pulled into a twisted, highly-untrustworthy smile. “We did not all arrive at the same time.”

Nick blinked, frowned. “What?”

Brick exhaled impatiently.

“We. Did. Not. All. Arrive. At. The. Same. Time,” he enunciated.

Nick frowned, staring into the dark space under the stairs.

When he refocused his eyes, that particular segment of shadow where his sire had stood was empty. Brick had vanished.

The only thing missing was the smoke-bomb old-time magicians used to use, the ones that let out a briefwhooshand a column of colored smoke.