Page 15 of Fang Fiction

“I need you to go to the Isle to deliver a message to my brother.”

Tess looked at Octavia for a long moment, then leaned against the banister and sighed.

“I think I need a drink.”

—

Ten minutes later, Tess had procured a bottle of red from Patrick the bartender, and she and Octavia were drinking it on a small outdoor patio adjoining the ballroom.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t go to the pool deck,” Octavia groused. “The view up there is lovely.”

“I literally just watched you drink a man’s blood, and you think I’m going anywhere alone with you?” Tess shot back.

“I’m not going to hurt you, obviously,” Octavia huffed. “As you may recall, I just protected you.”

“And as you may recall, I’ve read, like, many hundreds of pages about how you and your brother are murderous villains!” Tess countered. The surreality of this conversation was way too much to process.

“Those infernal books,” Octavia muttered.

“So…” Tess couldn’t help feeling curious. “So you’ve read them?”

“Indeed.” Octavia rolled her eyes and sipped her wine. “Finding out about them was quite the shock, really puts a cramp on being incognito when the entire bloody world knows your name. Not to mention the audacity of this August Lirio person, making millions airing my private conversations, then having the gall to call me evil.”

“That’s actually a really good point,” Tess agreed—though she noticed Octavia hadn’t refuted the “murderous” part of Tess’s accusation.

“Besides, it wouldn’t do me any good to harm you. I need your help, remember?”

“To go to the Isle.” Tess echoed Octavia’s words, still not fully believing them. “Does it really exist?”

“It does.” Octavia nodded. “You were right, Tess. About all of it.”

A thrill went up Tess’s spine. Even though this was easily the strangest night of her life, it was still deeply satisfying to finally know that all those hours she’d spent reading and writing and arguing about Blood Feud conspiracies hadn’t been for nothing.

“So how did you get back to New York?” Tess asked.

“I wish I knew.” Octavia exhaled dramatically. “One moment, I was visiting an angel statue in the graveyard in the forest at the center of the Isle. I saw a flash of light, felt a buzzing sensation, and everything went black. Next moment, I was in Central Park, by the angel statue in the Bethesda Fountain, with no idea how I’d gotten there.”

“And something happened to your powers?”

“Gone. Poof! Disappeared,” Octavia said sadly. “No more strength, very little speed, and no ability to glamour. And everyone I’ve ever met is either dead or trapped on that island, so there’s no one I can turn to for help. I’ve been skulking about like a common criminal, stealing clothes and sneaking into hotel rooms.”

“Oh my god.” Tess gasped, putting it together. “That was you in Mrs. Harriman’s penthouse.”

“Gave the old bat a proper scare.” Octavia couldn’t help chuckling. “It would be so helpful if you could book me into an empty room, just temporarily, of course, until Callum can figure out a way home. I think the reason I’ve lost my powers is because we’re so far apart—our powers are tied together because of the twin sire bond, you know?”

Tess nodded—she’d read about the twin sire bond dozens of times in Blood Feud, the bond that supposedly gave Callum and Octavia stronger powers than other vampires.

“Callum and I have never been away from each other for more than a few weeks, let alone on entirely different planes of existence,” Octavia went on. “That’s why I need you to go to the Isle to tell him what happened to me. Obviously I’d go myself if I could, but the only way I know to get back to the Isle is through Bar Between. And if I go there…”

“Whoever sent you to the Isle will know you escaped.” Tess knew from Blood Feud that Bar Between was something of a magical way station between worlds, and it was the only way on or off the Isle.

“Exactly.” Octavia took a sip of wine, gripping her glass tightly. “I’ve been so frightened that someone will recognize me, that they’ll send me back.”

“Was it very bad?” Tess asked. “On the Isle?”

“I’d rather die than be trapped there again,” Octavia said quietly. “Being stuck there for so long, I felt like the part of me that was me was—slipping away, somehow. Like I was watching myself float off to sea.”

Tess thought back to her last weeks at Columbia, the nights when she would take half a dozen sleeping pills to try to knock herself out, how fuzzy and barren she felt. She would have done anything to escape that feeling—and she did. She gave up everything that mattered.