Page 44 of Fang Fiction

“Not like I had much choice.” He took another swig. “It was that or wait around for the day when Felix finally got his wish to kill my sister and me, wasn’t it?”

“That is the part I do not understand,” Nantale said. “I have known you for decades, and in all that time, your motivation to protect your sister has been the single most predictable element of your character. Until yesterday. When a human arrived bearing a message from Octavia, whom we have all presumed dead for days, instead of leaving your grief in elation, you chose to sink further down. Why? Do you really believe the girl is lying?”

Nantale looked at Callum with her piercing gaze. Even in a simple cotton robe and head wrap, sitting perfectly calmly, the woman was downright terrifying.

“Maybe.”

“And what cause would she have to risk her life to lie to you? To me?”

“She’s human.” Callum closed his eyes. “Who knows why these desperate mortals do what they do?”

Nantale gestured for Callum to take the seat opposite hers.

“Before the girl arrived, what did you think had happened to Octavia?”

“I thought…” Callum sank into the chair. “I thought she’d finally had enough. She told me she had. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“She was depressed for a long time,” Nantale said gently.

“And I couldn’t do a damn thing to fix it.” Callum shoved away his empty glass. “I would have given my arm to get her off this island, but I couldn’t, could I? I couldn’t save the one person I cared about most, and now you think I’m this clan’s bloody salvation? Sounds a bit deluded, doesn’t it?”

“Perhaps. Then again, perhaps your sister is trapped in New York, waiting for you to help her while you throw a tantrum instead.”

“Trapped?” Callum laughed. “She’s not trapped—she’s free.”

“You don’t think she feels as bereft without you as you do without her?” Nantale raised an eyebrow.

Callum stared at the bottom of his whiskey glass. Even if what Tess said was true, and Octavia really was alive and well in New York…Callum didn’t see why she should want him there. In fact, he was pretty sure she was better off without him.

Callum stood. “Look, I appreciate the pep talk, but the only idea the girl had was to go to the graveyard. Seeing as that didn’t work, I think we’re about done with this adventure, don’t you?”

Nantale looked at Callum for a long moment, then turned back to the papers on her desk.

“You are finished with this ‘adventure’ when I say so. And not one second before.”

—

After he left Nantale’s quarters, Callum was truly looking forward to getting back to his rooms and taking a long, hot shower. He wanted nothing more than to rinse off the dirt and sweat of his hunt, the endless frustration of this stupid, interminable day.

Until he found Tess waiting outside his door.

“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered. Clearly she’d had time to shower—she was wearing cozy sweats and her eyes were bright with excitement.

“Good, you’re here!” She stepped aside to let him open the door. “We have so much to talk about—”

“Haven’t we talked enough for one day?” He pushed past her into his rooms, which he’d fashioned after his memories of Konstantin’s London townhouse: dark, creaky wood-paneled rooms glowing with warm fires and stuffed with books and curios.

“Seriously?” Tess followed him inside without waiting for an invitation. “You ditched me in the middle of a forest filled with deadly vampires, and you want to act like you’re the one who has the right to be annoyed right now?”

“I don’t know about the right, but I do know about the annoyance,” Callum quipped. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you,” she said quickly, her body tensing.

“Do you not drink?” He peered at her.

“I do drink, I just don’t want a drink right now. I want to talk about—”

“What?” Callum flopped down into a leather armchair. “Another brilliant theory from the world’s leading Isle expert who’s been here all of thirty-six hours? That graveyard idea worked out so well, I just can’t wait to hear about our next escapade.”