“You’re too tense, my boy.” Yuliya clucked her tongue. “She’ll be fine. She’s hearty, this girl. Too skinny, but hearty.”

“I know she is, Yuliya. And I know she will be.”

But that didn’t unwind the knot of worry in my stomach. I’d felt Willow clinging to me before her spirit left her body, and the urge to hold on to her, to protect her no matter what, had been more powerful than I’d ever experienced.

I had kissed her to try to provoke a vision, and to prove a point to myself—though what that point was, I no longer quite remembered. If it’d been to prove I wasn’t under her thrall the same way my brothers were, my plan had backfired entirely. Because as soon as my lips touched hers, I’d been lost completely.

There was something so alluring about Willow.

Several things actually.

There was her softness and innocence in a world that tried its best to foster disillusionment. There was the steel backbone that hid underneath her sweetness—the bravery and stubbornness that glowed inside her like a fire on a dark night. Her enchanting cherry-almond scent. Her smooth skin, beautiful despite the markings cruelly carved into her body. Her ass, which fit so perfectly in the palms of my hands.

I shifted uncomfortably. The need to finish what we’d started left my cock semi-hard, but now wasn’t the time to think about that. Willow was laid out on the bed again, her breath so shallow and slow that I could barely sense it. She felt almost dead.

A shock of panic ran through me at that thought, and I reached out to grip her soft, delicate-fingered hand. Her skin was reassuringly warm, and I raised her palm to my lips, pressing a kiss to the center of it.

I couldn’t help but inhale her essence one more time, like a junky getting high. The sweet, natural scent of her skin and blood.

And beneath it, something more.

Some scent, some taste I couldn’t identify. It was familiar, but just out of my mind’s reach. And it drew me like a siren’s song.

“Stop sniffing her hand and let her rest!”

Yuliya smacked the back of my head lovingly—and hard.

I let out a defeated chuckle and gently replaced Willow’s hand on the bedspread. Yuliya was one of the only people I knew who would give powerful vampires like my brothers and me so much sass. It was why we’d hired her, and why we all adored her. None of us had wanted a housekeeper who tiptoed around the place, jumping at our every move.

Yuliya didn’t tiptoe. And she definitely didn’t jump.

She had gone after Jerrett with a broom several times, threatening to wallop him. But he had absolutely deserved it.

“She is a lucky girl, my boy. To have three people care about her as you and your brothers do.”

The old witch’s voice had turned serious, and I tipped my head up to regard her. Her heartbeat was strong but fast, and the skin of her hands sounded like paper as she twisted her fingers together.

“Four people, I think.” I smiled up at her, and she clucked again.

“I do like her. She is good for you. All of you.”

Before I could respond to that, Willow gasped. Her body sprang up off the bed, her hand grasping desperately for mine. I tugged her quickly into the comfort of my embrace, expecting the same panic and disorientation as last time.

But Willow, as if she’d heard Yuliya and me talking while she slept, demonstrated once again how strong she was.

Though her body still quaked with tremors and her heartbeat was a rapid staccato beat in her chest, her voice was strong when she said, “I know where the shades are hiding, Sol. The kids are there—some of them still alive. We have to help them.”

As it turned out, Willow didn’t know exactly where they were. But she’d seen enough for us to figure out the rest.

A few moments after she woke, Jerrett and Malcolm arrived in the room. Malcolm’s voice echoed with suspicion when he asked what had brought on the second vision. Mine was full of challenge when I told him.

I could sense Willow blushing furiously next to me, but I caught the scent of something else too.

Arousal.

Hers, and my own. My brothers’ too.

It was time to stop tiptoeing around the feelings we all shared for her. Malcolm may not be ready to admit it—and I understood why, even though his own actions toward her made him a hypocrite—but she was ours. She owned us and had since the night we turned her.

Willow had described her vision for us several times, going through everything in painstaking detail. When she’d reached the part where she flew away from the church and past the rushing water of Niagara Falls, Jerrett had grunted under his breath. He’d typed away on his phone for several seconds and then let out a triumphant noise.

If we assumed Willow’s spirit traveled toward her body when it left the site of the ruin, and we knew she’d passed over a large forest before she saw the waterfalls, that narrowed down the possible location of the shades significantly.

They were in Canada, not far from the border.

“Are you sure you’re right about this?”

Willow’s voice broke me from my thoughts. The sweet, melodic tone was tinged with worry. She’d been anxious and jittery ever since she woke up.

“As sure as we can be,” Jerrett tossed back from the driver’s seat. “We’ll be able to pinpoint their exact location once we get closer. As long as we’re right about the general area, we can track them.”

“Okay.” She blew out a breath, her body relaxing beside me—but only slightly. “How long will it take to get there?”

“About five hours.” I punched the back of Jerrett’s seat lightly. “But with the way my brother drives, probably closer to four.”

“Pshh. You love the way I drive.”

“Let’s just say it’s one of the few things that makes me glad I can’t see,” I shot back, chuckling.

“Are you all—?” Willow broke off, smoothing down her hair.

Hoping conversation would ease some of her anxiousness, I pulled her hand into mine and squeezed. “Are we what?”

She hesitated for a moment, but like it usually did with her, curiosity won out. “Are you all actually brothers? I always hear you say that, but… well, I don’t know if you know this, but you guys don’t look anything alike.”

Jerrett howled with laughter, and even Malcolm chuckled.

“Yeah, did you know that, Sol? Sorry to break it to you, but my devastating good looks are all mine,” Jerrett teased.

“At least my face isn’t so boring I had to decorate it with a bunch of metal just to spruce it up a little,” I shot back lightly.

Willow giggled. “Calm down, boys. You’re all very sexy.”

Jerrett’s voice dropped, turning smooth and rich. “Hear that? She thinks I’m sexy.”

Willow sucked in a breath beside me, embarrassment setting in as she realized what she’d said. She tried to reclaim her hand, but I didn’t let her, resting it on my thigh and squeezing tighter.

“She said we all are, jackass. Not just you.” Malcolm punched our brother’s arm, more lighthearted than I’d seen him in a long time.

I turned to Willow. “To answer your question—no. Though we may act like it sometimes, we’re not brothers born of the same mother. But we are brothers in all the ways that count.”

“Brothers in all the ways that count,” she repeated with a soft sigh. “I like that. I never had any siblings, and I always felt like I was missing out on something amazing.”

I rubbed my thumb across the back of her hand, reveling in the little shiver that worked its way through her body at my touch. “You can build your own family, Willow. You can make it anything you want.”

This time, she was the one to tighten her grip on me. “Thanks, Sol.” She paused. “So, have you all known each other a long time?”

“A very long time.” Malcolm’s voice was serious.

“Which one of you is oldest?”

I was enjoying this side of Willow. Curious as a kitten, open and earnest. I could tell my brothers did too, as a happy energy filled the car.

“What, can’t you tell?” Jerrett drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel, still chuckling.

She shook her head, and the scent of almond wafted from her thick hair.

“Guess,” he prodded.

I felt her gaze shift to each of us in turn—could sense the intensity of her stare as she regarded me.

“Sol,” she said finally.

Jerrett cracked up again. “Nope! Try again, Will.”

“Malcolm?”

“Ohh, so close, but no cigar. I’ll let you have one more guess though.”

“You?”

Incredulity resonated in her voice, and this time Malcolm and I laughed.

“Jerrett is almost two thousand years old,” I murmured. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Her voice was low, as if she worried she might offend him. “He seems so… so…”

“Well assimilated?”

“Yeah. He looks so cool. Contemporary. The first time I met him, I thought he was a rock star or something.”

Jerrett gave a low, hungry growl. “Damn right, you did, sweetheart.”

Willow’s breath caught, and the scent of arousal filled the car just like it had the bedroom earlier. I clenched my jaw. We needed to release this tension sooner rather than later. If we didn’t, it would keep torturing and distracting us—and for hunters like us, distractions could prove deadly.

“So who’s the youngest?” Willow asked, her voice a little rougher than usual as she fought to tamp down her body’s response.

“I am.”

Her head whipped toward me. “What? Really?”

“Yes. I’m only a hundred and fifty-five years old. I was fighting for the North in the Civil War when I became gravely ill. Lupus, although I didn’t know that at the time. I lost my eyesight and would’ve lost my life, but Jerrett turned me before death took me.”

“Holy shit!”

A grin tugged at my lips. “That is one way to put it.”

Her voice grew pensive. “Wow. You fought in the Civil War. One hundred and fifty-five years ago. And Jerrett… two thousand years? Holy fuck. That’s so long. This is all just… I mean, I knew, but…”

She trailed off, sounding lost.

I reached over with my other hand and cupped the side of her cheek. A tear landed on my fingertip, and I was struck by the strangest urge to lift it to my mouth, as if by drinking her tears I could take her sadness upon myself.

“You won’t be alone, Willow. You’ll live many, many years; but I promise, you’ll never be alone.”

Willow gave a watery chuckle, leaning into my touch. “I came to New York to re-invent myself. I just never thought the new me would be so crazily different from the old me.”

“I don’t think she is.” Malcolm spoke quietly from the front seat. “I think this is who you’ve always been. You just didn’t let your true self free before.”

There was a moment of heavy silence, then Willow’s shoulders shifted as she pulled in a deep breath. I felt her muscles relax, and she leaned her head against my shoulder.

Malcolm was right.

This was the real Willow, the one Fate had always intended her to be. She was meant for more than a shitty marriage in a boring life. Her light was meant to shine brighter than that.

And as her body molded to mine, her head tilting so she could gaze out the window beside us, I knew she was beginning to accept that truth.

Good girl. I brought our joined hands to my lips and kissed her knuckles. There’s strength in fighting, but there’s strength in giving in too.