Silvery scars run up and down Marco’s back. He sleeps on his stomach, not wanting to lay on the worst of his wounds. I switch off the light and close the door.
Angus is curled up in his bed, staring out the window at the snow.
“Hey you.” I sit next to him and grab his hand, weaving my fingers through his and giving him a gentle squeeze. “You should sleep.”
“I walked right into it,” he mumbles through half-sleep. His eyes slide closed and then open again, heavy and drowsy. “I thought I could trick him, but he knew. He had Marco and Van and he used them to draw me in. He knew exactly.”
“Shh.” I comb his damp hair back behind his ear and try to soothe him. “It’s over now. You’re safe. We’re all safe at home.”
Angus finally gives in and closes his eyes. “Van,” he whispers.
I bend and kiss his forehead, brushing his hair back and scratching his head gently. “Van’s here. He’s safe. We’re all safe.”
Van is asleep on his back in the exact position he was in when we put him in his bed. He’s so still that it takes a moment for me to catch the rise of his chest as he breathes. His face is relaxed as he sleeps, and I watch him, marveling at how peaceful he seems.
He’s never this relaxed when he’s awake. His face is never this serene.
I’ve never been in Van’s bedroom before. The woody citrus scent of him permeates everything. I want to go to him, and sit with him and hold his hand, but that’s not how it is with us. It never was, and I fear it will never be.
I look around his room at the pictures on the wall and eye the books on his shelves and realize how little I really know about him. I’ve spent hours talking and sharing with Angus and Marco, but Van has kept himself apart. He’s a mystery.
A battered leather book sits on his desk, a pen wedged in like a bookmark. It’s the book where he has been recording the prophecy from Tobias and Salma. The one he showed me with the drawing he made a hundred years ago. The drawing of the raven that matches the mark on my chest exactly, from the curve of its beak all the way down to the lopsided arch of the bird’s tail.
There’s so much I don’t know about this man. So much I want to know, but I have to honor Van’s wishes and just give him his space. I can exist at a distance as long as I know he’s alive and well.
I settle into the window seat and shiver as I lean against the cold glass. It’s still hours until dawn, and the moon has just risen, and all is quiet. I grab one of Van’s sweaters off the chair to use as a blanket. It smells of him. I press my face into the wool and breathe him in. I’ll let myself have that bit of him at least.
I wake to the moon beaming in through the window. I don’t know what woke me.
“I promised him.” Van’s words come to me through the darkness of the bedroom.
I turn and see that he’s shifted onto his side and he’s watching me.
“Promised who?” I ask.
He licks his lips and swallows before continuing. “My brother. Tobias. I promised him that I would avenge him. I swore that I would die trying. That I would never stop until I made Underwood pay.” A tear runs down the side of his face.
“Hey.” I slide off the window and move onto his bed. I don’t understand why he’s so upset. I touch Van’s arm. “You did it. We did it. It’s over. The vampire is gone.”
“I saw him. Tobias. When I was… when we were. I thought I was going to die.” He closes his eyes and when he opens them again he holds my gaze. He looks heartbroken. “My brother told me that I wasn’t alone. He said I’m here. I’m with you. He told me he loved me and he stayed with me as I hung there, bleeding out and dying. He comforted me. My brother held me and made me feel at peace and said that now that this was done he just wished I would live the life I was meant to live. That’s what he wanted for me. Not revenge. Not this. And all I could think about was how I failed him.”
“Oh, Van. But you didn’t. How can you say that?” I want to wrap my arms around him and comfort him. I want to make him feel better, but what he needs right now is to talk. So I let him. I sit beside him and listen.
“I failed him because when he was dying, I didn’t comfort him. I didn’t tell him it would be all right. I didn’t keep telling him that I was there, that his brother was with him and that he wouldn’t have to die alone. No. I spent the last precious moments of my brother’s existence cradling his head in my arms and spewing all the rage and anger I felt. I had no words of comfort for him. I gave him no peace. I spoke about revenge. I swore I would kill for him. I talked about murder and death and anger instead of letting him go in peace.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that. You were with him. You were there to the end. He knows that. And he knows you love him.”
Van shakes his head. “I’ve spent every single moment of my life since he died working
