Van
Van didn't consider herself to be the type of girl who indulged in fairy tales, at least not anymore. The escape they brought was never enough to counterbalance the painful return to reality, and she didn't much care for going about her life with a sense of longing for what could never be.
But as she sat on the window seat in her bedroom, staring into a night cast in silver by street lamps, she closed her eyes and imagined a what-if. What if her mother and brother were alive, and together, they'd moved to this town- lived in this house. How easily she could see the sterile shell becoming a cozy home. Mess and chaos all around. A physical testament to their love for one another and for life.
And at the dinner table, there would be no perfectly laid table setting or tasteless food. Van's lip twitched as a bit of the real world invaded her dream, but just imagining the horror on Gabriella's face if she had to eat something greasy on a paper plate was worth the diversion.
And then, there was Luca.
Her mother would have insisted he eat dinner with them before allowing them to go on a first date. Walker would have been too shy to say much, but as the meal progressed, Luca would have pulled the young boy out of his shell with promises to introduce him to his only little brother. By the time they left the house for putt putt, Van's phone would be blowing up with wedding ideas from Pinterest. A cheeky nod of approval from her mother that would have her cheeks flashing red with embarrassment.
Then-
She ripped her eyes open the moment her dreaming reached the point of Luca's hand in hers. That part was reality. She knew what his touch felt like. Even when she'd shunned it, part of her was forced to acknowledge how much she liked it, and after four days of not hearing from him, she was beginning to wonder if she would ever feel it again.
The phone in her hand remained silent. A quick swipe up revealed what she already knew. There were no responses to her dozen messages. At one point, she had considered sneaking onto pack lands, but Livy had been the only other shifter who knew Van was on their side. It would ruin everything if she was caught by someone who decided to report her to the Supreme. No amount of acting would convince Abe that she was satisfying her curiosity.
"Please, please be okay," she whispered, leaning closer to the window. Her warm breath turned to mist on the chilled glass.
From the bits and pieces Van gathered at school, Luca was not being held as a prisoner. After an interrogation, he was set free, but Livy remained on the premises. Another person to rescue. Which is why Van expected the boy to reach out to her immediately, but the silence was damning. Either the Holy Asylum of Light was covering up his imprisonment, or Luca had chosen to abandon her.
She shook her head. Luca might abandon her, but he would never abandon Brantley and Livy, which meant if he could reach out to Van, he would. Without her, it would take years to devise a way to set his family free, and by then, it could be too late.
The alternative wasn't any better, but she was working hard on earning trust from her father and classmates. Abe didn't seem too keen on bringing her back down to the lab, and she didn't know how to press for another visit without raising suspicions. From what Isaiah told her the day before, Novitiates were not allowed in the labs at all.
Outside, white began to break through the silver and black. A giddy thrill shot through Van, cleansing the bleakness from her mind. As a little girl, she'd always wished they lived somewhere with regular snowfall, but her mother didn't care much for the cold.
Five minutes later, she was standing in the yard with her tongue sticking out, a perfect pink landing strip for the bits of icy lace. It was nice to feel like a kid again. Like her life was nothing more complicated than wished for snow days and homework. A softly opening door and thud of steps drew her attention to the house.
Abe leaned against a column, its paint whiter than the falling snow and sharply contrasting with the black wool coat he wore. He studied his daughter, his eyes, usually cold bits of jade glass, sparkled with uncommon warmth. Sitting on the top step, he reached out with a gloved hand, catching a few flakes on the leather before crossing his arms over his knees.
"Xandra always rushed outside when the first snow fell too," he said when Van didn't acknowledge his presence with more than a glance.
"Mom hated the cold," Van snapped. She might be able to play nice with him about most things these days, but hearing her mother's name come out of his mouth still rankled.
Abe's shoulders pulled back, and he rubbed his jaw. "I guess people can change. When we were about your age, she would spend hours outside when it was snowing. Sometimes, she would wrap up in a blanket and sit on the porch swing drinking hot chocolate, but most of the time, she did what you're doing."
Indecision tore through her. On the one hand, she preferred to think she was conceived miraculously, without Abe having to really touch or know her mom, but on the other hand, his relationship with the girl she was meant he knew things Van didn't. Possessed memories she would never have, and any part of her mother was precious- no matter where she found it.
Cupping her hands, she blew on the flakes to speed up the melting process. Already, her skin was beginning to grow cold enough for the snow to stick to her skin, but she wasn't uncomfortable. Far from it.
"I wanted to live somewhere with snow for as long as I can remember," Van admitted, trying to convince herself this give and take was part of the act. "But Mom would just shudder and tell me long summers were best. I knew she grew up somewhere colder so I figured she knew best."
Abe's expression darkened, but not with anger. Sadness permeated every line of his profile. "Maybe she thought I wouldn't look for her somewhere warm because it was so unlike her."
"Did you look for her?"
A deep exhale answered her question, but he followed it up with words. "There were things going on when she left that kept me here, and despite the impression you may have of me, I don't typically hold women against their will."
"Just daughters," Van said, surprised by the humor in her voice.
"Just daughters," he agreed and smiled.
It transformed him. In that moment, Van finally understood her mother. What she saw in the man. Why she might have fallen in love with him.
"I'm really proud of you Vannes... Van. Your teachers say you're a model student, and I've watched you fight. I can see that you want to really know how to be good. You don't rely on the gifts from our bloodline to win."
"Th-thank you." It was all she could manage to say in response because an unwanted warmth sparked in her chest. Only her mother had ever stirred this particular feeling, and she wanted Abe to have nothing to do with it.
"One second." He held up a finger and answered his ringing phone. The paternal glow faded from his features, replaced by one far more familiar to her. Anger. "How did that happen? I know what she is. No, don't give me your excuses. I'll be there in less than thirty minutes, and I expect the situation to be contained."
"Duty calls?" she asked, striving to look uninterested as he rose to his feet. Inside she was praying he would ask her to come along. There was no doubt in her mind the call was about Livy.
"Unfortunately. Make sure you don't stay out here too late. The temperature is going to drop quite a bit. Goodnight, Vanessa."
"Shit," Van cursed when he was gone. She kicked at a bush, filling the air with a burst of fresh powder. The snow fell faster now, the flakes as big as silver dollars, but all their magic had faded when reality crashed down.
A buzzing in her pocket made her jump. Pulling her phone out, she swiped up and frowned.
Unknown Number: Head toward Wanda's.
Van: Yeah, maybe not. Who is this?
Unknown Number: Isaiah.
"Double shit," she fumed. With everything going on, she'd put off establishing a relationship with anyone but Hailey outside of the school. With Luca MIA, the last thing she wanted to deal with was Isaiah and his hands.
Unknown Number: Come on. It's nothing bad, I promise. Consider it a tradition.
She really didn't have a choice.
Van: Sure. On my way.
Then, before she set out for the local hangout, she shot off one last message.
Van: Where are you? I need you.