Page 11 of Fang Fiction

“And I’m making the most of it!” Callum shot back. “Look, you’ve spent years trying to find a way out of here, and where has it gotten you? Exact same place as me, innit? Except instead of wasting my time wishing I were somewhere else, I’m actually enjoying myself. And don’t tell me you aren’t capable of joy here. I saw the look on your face when you shoved your stiletto through that goon’s eye socket. You were happy, Vee. It was like old times.”

“Happy? Happy?!” Octavia’s laughter bordered on manic. “Happy is lobster thermidor from room service at The Carlyle, with a cheese soufflé on the side and the bellhop’s neck for dessert. Happy is the opening gala for a new exhibit at the Leeum Museum, or sitting front row at McQueen in Paris, my pick of the gowns, bodies draped in sequins.”

“You can have lobster here! Or art or sequins or soufflés or whatever the bloody hell else you like,” Callum argued.

“It’s not the same!” Octavia snapped. “All our glamours here, they’re just memories made manifest, shadows of the lives we used to have. I miss travel and parties, meeting new people, tasting new blood. I miss living, Callum. We’ve been here for years already, and I don’t know how much longer…”

“How much longer what?” Callum stepped toward her. “What are you saying?”

Octavia closed her eyes. She felt like she was suffocating on this island, her brain slowly giving way to madness. She thought about how it would feel to leave this place. To step onto the crystal bridge that left the Isle, to feel the warmth of sunlight erupting across her skin.

Maybe she’d burst into flames like every other soul who’d been desperate or stupid enough to walk into the sun, charred into a pile of ash.

Then again, Octavia had always been different. She suffused everything she touched with her own particular brand of glamour. Maybe when she stepped onto the bridge, it would be like a glittering dance sequence in an Esther Williams movie, splashes of water and sparkles of light, a glorious sight to behold as she crossed over to Bar Between, the way station between worlds that could lead her back to New York.

But the beauty of her fantasy faded as she opened her eyes and focused back in on Callum, his brow lined with concern. She’d been with him since before they were born, and for more than a hundred years since their deaths. She couldn’t leave him now.

As much as she hated this island, she loved her brother more. She needed him as much as he needed her—and she knew that to be separated from him would be worse than splitting her own body in half.

“Vee?” he said softly, using the pet name he’d had for her since they were children in London, bratty orphans with naughty smirks and coal-smeared faces. “You won’t leave me, will you?”

“Never.” Octavia took his hands in hers. “I swear it.”

It took Tess nearly an hour to get back to Williamsburg after she left Joni’s party. She spent the train ride with her eyes glued to her copy of Blood Feud, getting lost in a scene she’d read a million times before, going through the words over and over until she settled into the world of the Isle, traveling along the characters’ emotions like grooved tracks. Ever since leaving Columbia, Tess found her life was easier if she didn’t think too much about her own feelings. Her emotions were too overwhelming, too painful and unwieldy. She tried to keep the volume turned down on her own life, to keep her daily existence muted and manageable.

But in Blood Feud, everything could be big without being scary. The ruthless violence, passionate sex, devastating betrayals—Tess could feel all of it, because none of it was happening to her. The deeper she let her mind sink into the world of Callum and Octavia, Felix and Isobel, the farther away she felt from Joni’s apartment. And from Rick.

The loud rumbles and metallic screeches of the subway, the hum of people shuffling on and off the train, all of it felt like a rhythm that lulled Tess back into a calmer state of mind. The vampires in Blood Feud were trapped on an island, but Tess didn’t have to be. Once she found a new job, she’d be behind the desk of a cozy inn in the Cotswolds, thrilling guests with little tidbits about Agatha Christie mysteries set in the area; or perhaps she’d go to Paris, or Bali, or Big Sur. She could feel the tension in her shoulders unspool as she walked out of the subway and imagined the possibilities, traveling the world by night like Callum and Octavia, each new chapter bringing another glamorous adventure.

By the time Tess walked into The Georgia, she almost felt like herself again—until she saw Rick sitting at the lobby bar.

No, not Rick. Just some guy with blond hair—they didn’t even look alike.

“Shit,” Tess muttered, willing herself to keep it together.

Mika eyed her from behind the front desk. Mouthed, You okay?

Tess nodded apologetically, but before she could go talk to Mika, Taylor, the hotel’s afternoon manager, rushed over, looking like she’d just been through a very fancy war.

“Where have you been?” she rasped. “The fucking bee wedding finally got started three hours late—they’re gonna be here until three a.m. instead of midnight.”

“What?!” Tess yelped. “But the staff—all that overtime—”

“I know.” Taylor gave Tess a dark look. “But it was our fucking bees that caused the delay in the first place, so I couldn’t exactly say no, could I? They were already screaming about a lawsuit, but hopefully if we just get them absolutely plastered, they’ll forget about it.”

Taylor was the most competent and organized person Tess had ever met—if she was this frazzled, the wedding must really have been a disaster.

“You go home,” Tess told her. “I’ve got this.”

“I can’t! What if something goes wrong and they all start fighting again? They yelled so much,” Taylor whispered, looking near the point of tears.

“I’ll go down to the reception myself and make sure everything runs smoothly. Look!” Tess gave her silky dress a little swish. “I’m even dressed for a party.”

Tess thought Taylor might argue further, but instead she collapsed into a grateful hug. Tess promised it would all be fine and headed down to the wedding. She was a little bummed she wouldn’t have time to start looking for new jobs, but on the other hand, it was probably for the best to have a distraction tonight.

The hotel’s primary wedding venue was an indoor-outdoor space on the garden level. Smaller events could be held on the pool deck, but for a party of two hundred, it had to be the big, airy ballroom with whitewashed brick, rafters strung with lush vines and vintage fairy lights, and a wall of glass doors that opened out onto a cobblestone patio. By the time Tess walked in, the food and cake had all been cleared; drinking and dancing were the only items left on the agenda, and the guests were excelling at both.

Everything seemed to be going fine, with the possible exception of the best man, whose head was now mightily swollen from his many bee stings, and whose colossally drunken dance moves seemed likely to result in injury either for himself or someone else.