I lie against Angus’s chest, listening to his heart beating. The grounding nature of his energy is so comforting and calming, it is almost impossible to believe that anything could ever harm us. I run my fingers over the design of the totem I gave him.
“Thank you for wearing it,” I say.
“Are you kidding? It feels like you. I don’t ever want to take it off.”
“And what do I feel like?”
He smiles and lays his hand over mine, pressing the totem into his chest. “Your energy is sunny and soft and warm. Puffy like clouds or maybe cotton balls.”
“Really? So my totem feels like a cloud?”
He nods. “Or cotton. It’s so nice. Like a pillow. Or maybe a fluffy bunny tail.”
“Whatever,” I say, pushing away from him playfully as my face flushes. It’s weird to think that I have an essence the same way that the guys do, but it makes me feel good nonetheless.
We settle into silence again, and I’m about to fall asleep when Angus’s voice rumbles in his chest.
“I’m worried about Van,” he says.
I lean up on my elbow. “Why?”
Angus shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think he’s been living by the word of the prophecy for so long, he’s lost patience. I think when you arrived he expected everything to fall into place. Like your being here would somehow make it so Damon gets served up on a silver platter.”
I’m not sure what to think about that. “What does the prophecy say, exactly?”
“It’s clear as mud. Everything is said in metaphor and riddles. Why is that? Why is it that whenever there are prophecies they arrive like a puzzle? Would it kill the seers to speak plainly?”
I run my fingers through the hair on his chest. “I don’t know. I mean, the part about the Nightbird and the Shadow Walkers is pretty cool.”
Angus grins. “Sounds like a rock band. Maybe we could take our show on the road. Do you play any instruments?”
I nestle back down in the crook of his shoulder and listen to his heart again.
“We need to find Underwood,” Angus whispers. “All these years, we’ve let him come to us. And now that we’re here, we aren’t making a move. If something doesn’t happen soon, I think Van’s going to lose it.”
“How will you find him? I mean, he is a vampire.”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like the idea of Van hanging around waiting for something to happen, either.”
Chapter Twelve
ANGUS
I wait until Joely is asleep before I leave the house. Van didn’t actually ask me to stay and babysit her, but I know that’s what he expected when he told me to be there when she came home. I step onto the porch, letting the moonlight wash over my skin for a moment before I shift and disappear into the night.
It feels good to run. It’s the best way to empty my head and find clarity on something when I can’t think it through otherwise. But no matter how hard I try to come up with something to help Van, my thoughts keep returning to ancient history.
I was serious when I said I was worried about my brother. Van’s been carrying the weight of this Underwood burden for so long. I think he forgets that we want it as much as he does. I think he keeps expecting something to happen at any moment. He’s strung up so tight, just waiting for the moment to present itself so he can pounce.
But maybe that’s the wrong approach.
Aside from getting us here to this university, Van’s always talked defense. After being chased and hunted by Underwood all these years, I don’t know if we’ve ever talked about the reality of what we’d do when the next part of the prophecy clicked into place.
When Joely arrived, it was like the old Van was back. He was energized and re-engaged, and looking forward to doing something. But I think after all this time of playing defense, he’s forgotten that he isn’t alone, and we can also play offense.
Marco and I look to Van as our leader. It’s not something overt, and it’s never been in question, it’s a wolf thing, and Van is our alpha. But given the unusual circumstances of our upbringing, we never had a wolf pack of our own. Once we got free of Underwood’s clan, we tried to figure it out, but it went badly. We spent the better part of a century living wild and being free without really focusing on being a pack.
And then Van found Clara and everything changed. She was a gray wolf, not a dire wolf, and they met by chance in a café in London. The three of us were mid-sentence when she walked by and their eyes locked.
We knew right away she was a wolf shifter like us, and she and Van had a mate bond. For twenty years we tried to live as a pack. Van and Clara ruling with Marco and me just being part of the pack, but we never hit our stride—we didn’t know how.
Then the war came and Clara was killed in the blitz. Van found her body in the subway and carried her to the hills. He stayed with her, holding her body, protecting her while he cried. He wouldn’t let go of her. Marco and I had to force him to let us bury her. And then he shifted and wouldn’t turn back into Van for months.
I guess we should be grateful, in a way. Because that’s how we realized Underwood was able to track us. There had been times here and there when we had close calls, but those months when Van stayed in his wolf… it felt like Underwood was right there, all the time.
