Callum and Octavia Yoo were two of the most vicious—and virulently feared—vampires on the Isle.
But they were nothing compared to their sire.
Born in ancient Greece a thousand years before Jesus Christ walked the Earth, Konstantin Adamos stood well over six feet tall, broadly muscled with olive skin, sleek black hair, and features chiseled more finely than any marble statue. During his millennia on Earth, Konstantin enjoyed enormous influence: Some say Konstantin fed his blood to the Holy Father during the Crusades, controlling him in a perpetual blood thrall; others insist Konstantin spent the last fifty years of his life as an arms dealer in Shanghai. All that is known for sure is that Konstantin died shortly before the Isle was created.
Throughout his expansive life span, Konstantin was never more powerful—or more violent—than during the years he spent in Victorian England. During that time, Konstantin was a titan of industry, the shadowy owner of more than a dozen dirty factories that churned through workers at an alarming pace—especially the orphans whose little fingers stitched lace doilies for the ladies of London. Of course, back then, if a poor factory worker went missing, no one batted an eye. So it was that Konstantin had a constant supply of victims, gorging himself on the fresh blood of children, knowing the pipeline would never run dry. In all that time, Konstantin spared only two children that crossed his path:
Callum and Octavia Yoo.
Callum and Octavia’s father was a Korean ship worker who may or may not have known they ever existed. Their mother, a British seamstress, died when the twins were only a few years old, probably of cholera or typhoid. Like so many other children of that time, Callum and Octavia were sent to various orphanages in appalling disrepair, but since they had each other—and a remarkable aptitude for mischief—they always figured out a way to survive. By the time they were twelve and wound up in one of Konstantin’s factories, they’d started a full-on gambling ring for the adults who worked there.
When an ornery guard found them out and brought them to Konstantin for discipline, no one expected ever to see them again. But something in the twins’ nature must have impressed Konstantin, because instead of killing them, he decided to take them on as wards. Throughout their adolescence, they had only the most luxurious clothes, the most lavish trips around the world, the finest tutors. By the time they reached adulthood, they were known throughout London as two of the most charming, witty, and attractive people in the city—but Konstantin forbade them to marry. This suited them fine; they lived such carefree, extravagant lives that they had no wish to take on the burden of spouses or children of their own. But they did find Konstantin’s mandate curious—after all, why should he care whether the twins ever married?
On their twenty-ninth birthday, they found out. That was the night he turned them both into vampires.
Twin sires are exceedingly rare, because almost no vampire is strong enough to use their own blood to sire two new vampires in the same night—and on top of that, the two new vampires must also be biological twins. This combination of twindoms, human and vampire, creates a bond so magically powerful, it imbues the twin sires with strength that would normally take them centuries to build.
Callum and Octavia were the only vampires Konstantin ever sired, and he valued them above any other vampires in his employ.
And he never let his most loyal servant, Felix Hawthorn, forget it.
Tess woke up groggy and disoriented—she was still in the black silk dress she’d worn to Joni’s party. It was pitch dark in the room where she was sleeping; after the tense events in Nantale’s great room, she’d been so tired she’d gone straight to bed without bothering to take in her surroundings. But now she realized she had no idea where she was. She was stricken with a pang of hunger—when was the last time she ate?
She rolled over in bed, edging a foot over the side. Something about this place felt familiar. She reached out and felt a night table, a little desk lamp with a nubby glass shade, just like the one in her old apartment with Joni on 112th Street. She flipped on the lamp—she was in that bedroom. What the fuck?? But then she heard a sound—footsteps outside her door. She shrank back on the bed.
“Joni?” she whispered. But she knew it wasn’t Joni. The footfalls were too heavy. It wasn’t Rick. It couldn’t be Rick—
The door swung open, and there was Callum, his tall frame cast in shadow. His face was backlit in profile, and she could make out his curved nose and full lips, the stubble that lined his strong jaw. And that look in his eyes…
It was desire. She was sure of it.
“Why did you wear that dress?” he asked, his smooth British accent at odds with his low, dangerous voice.
“This?” Tess gripped the dress, the silk pooling between her fingers. “There was a party, I didn’t—”
She hurried to stand, and in an instant Callum was beside her.
“Why did you dress like Isobel?” His voice was strained.
“So you would want me,” Tess whispered. “As much as you wanted her.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her close—god, he was strong. Tess looked up at him. His eyes were gray, with flecks of amber and gold.
“You’re so beautiful.” Tess ran her fingers across his cheek. “Are you going to kill me?”
“We’re all dead here,” he breathed. “Is that all right?”
She nodded, and then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and his body was cold, but he felt so alive against her. His hands moved down the silk of her dress as he drew her closer to him. She heard a moan escape her as his lips found her neck.
“How did you find me?” she asked, digging her fingers into his shoulders as he kissed down her chest, his mouth moving toward her breasts. “I haven’t lived here for years.”
He stood up straight then, cupping her face in his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“Don’t lie to yourself, Tess.” His face turned hard, his eyes blank and empty. “You never left this place. You never will.”
And with that, he wrapped his hands around her neck and started to squeeze.
—