Page 59 of Fang Fiction

“And instead of staying away from me, that made you curious.” Callum’s voice was low. “What a dirty little bird you are. Wanted to meet the monster and judge for yourself?”

She nodded. Callum ran a finger along her jaw, and she shivered with anticipation. His icy blood grew hot as he imagined all the pleasures that lay before him—he was going to fuck this girl until her legs shook and she begged for more. And then, just as Felix predicted, Callum was going to kill her to send Felix’s clan a message: If they weren’t afraid of him yet, they should be.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered into the girl’s ear, then sharply nipped her earlobe.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Yes, please.”

“Everything Felix said was true.”

The kitchen at Nantale’s compound was, as one might expect, more like a blood bank: a long row of glass-doored refrigerators stocked with different sorts of animal blood, as well as several industrial stoves to heat the blood to a vampire’s preferred temperature. Most of the vampires hunted their own food, but since Callum was still too weak to leave the compound, Tess was warming up his breakfast. He’d mostly been asleep for the past two days; she thought it was a good sign that he wanted a hot meal.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone native.” Hamish swanned into the kitchen wearing a black yoga onesie and a silky floral robe that billowed behind him. “You’re drinking blood now?”

“It’s for Callum.” Tess exhaled with relief that Hamish was alone. Of all the vampires here, he seemed the least interested in killing her—and since the crystal bridge was destroyed and Tess was now trapped on this island indefinitely, she was grateful for any scrap of safety she could find.

Hamish grabbed a bottle of blood out of the fridge, popped the top, and took a deep drink.

“So good. Goose blood.” He indicated the bottle. “Can’t compare to human, but at least it’s got foie vibes. What’s Callum having?”

“Pig’s blood. So more like Carrie vibes.”

“What I wouldn’t give for a little telekinesis just to pass the time.” Hamish sighed. “So how’s it going with you two?”

“Me and Callum?” Tess asked. “Not great—we still haven’t found a way off the Isle.”

“Ugh, who cares, I want to know what’s happening with you and the hottest vampire alive! All those hours alone in the forest, him wanting your blood, you wanting his body? Are you two doing that sweet human-vampire nasty?! It’s been so long since I’ve had hot tea, please, you have to tell me.”

“What?! No! Nobody wants anybody’s anything.” Tess flushed, her mind lurching to the moment in the moonflower meadow when Callum put his hand on her thigh. Ugh, that was nothing—and besides, she didn’t have time to think about it. She needed to focus on helping Callum get healthy and finding a way back to New York.

“It’s so stupid he doesn’t sleep with men,” Hamish groused. “It’s like, hello, we’re immortal, maybe live a little?”

Hamish gestured broadly, and the bottle of goose blood slipped out of his hand—it shattered on the kitchen’s immaculate white floor.

“For fuck’s sake.” He grabbed a kitchen towel to mop up the mess.

“Let me help you,” Tess offered. She knelt to pick up some glass that had landed near her feet but yelped in pain when she pricked her finger.

“Fuck! We’re a couple of klutzes, huh?” She turned to Hamish and smiled, but his whole face had gone dark—his eyes were practically black.

“Hamish?” Tess asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

“You’re bleeding.” His voice was strained.

“Oh.” Tess looked down—the cut was tiny, but the smallest droplet of blood was visible at the surface of her skin.

“Go,” he ordered. His jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists.

“Hamish—”

“Get out of here. Right now.”

Tess grabbed the pot of pig’s blood off the stove and bolted into the Isle’s art-covered hallways. Was this what the rest of her life was going to be? Living in constant fear that at any moment, some stupid cut would spell her death? What the hell was she supposed to do when she got her period?

The walk to Callum’s rooms helped Tess feel calmer, but her hands were still shaking as she opened his door.

“What’s wrong?” Callum sat up in bed, then sniffed the air twice. “You cut yourself? Are you all right?”

“You can smell it?” she whispered, terror flooding through her. “I stopped bleeding, I thought—I’m sorry, I’ll leave right now.”