Chapter 3
Anonymous message submitted to Troi Toi gossip website
Hi Troi! Longtime reader, first time submitter—and needless to say, ANON PLEASE! Okay, so here’s the tea: I work the front desk at The Carlyle, and last night, this woman comes in, absolutely stunning, wearing a killer green cocktail dress, but she doesn’t have a purse, a wallet, no luggage, nothing. She comes to the desk with the poshest British accent you’ve ever heard and tells me she has a room booked under the name Octavia Yoo. All right, people book under fake names all the time, so I don’t think anything of it, I just laugh and ask her if she needs rollaway beds for Hermione Granger and Bella Swann, but she doesn’t smile back, like, at all. So of course I don’t have anything booked for her, but she insists I do, and then she starts glaring into my eyes in this funny way, and I’m like bitch are you trying to glamour me? Like does she seriously think she’s a vampire right now? So I tell her hey, I love Blood Feud, Octavia is obviously my favorite character—I’m a homosexual who lives in Chelsea, like duh I’m obsessed with her—but I can’t give her a room unless she gives me a credit card. And then she looks, like, scared? And asks me what Blood Feud is? So at this point I’m like, lady, snaps for your cosplay, but I’m at work, okay? Time to take your performance art elsewhere. Then a security guard came over and she physically ran out of the hotel without another word. So anyway Troi, just thought your readers should know: Either the best Octavia Yoo impersonator in history is roaming around New York, or vampires are real.
“Right in one guess.” The woman smiled wider, her fangs gleaming in the candlelight. “Not bad for a human.”
“No.” Tess shook her head. “No, this is—I don’t know, a trick. You’re not—you can’t possibly be—”
“A vampire?”
“Vampires don’t exist!” Tess insisted.
“That’s not what you said on BuzzFeed.”
“God, that fucking essay.” Tess exhaled. “So you read it, and you came here…why? For a prank? To get money or something? The Nigerian prince scam, except you’re a fake vampire instead?”
“You work in a hotel and you’re wearing that dress.” The woman’s expression was somewhere between disdain and pity. “And you’ve come to the conclusion that I’m after your money?”
“Hey, you’re hot,” a drunken voice interrupted. They turned to see the best man, his body swaying and his speech slurred.
“Thank you for that unprompted assessment, but we’re in the middle of a conversation,” Octavia snapped.
“No, we’re not.” Tess took the opportunity to back away. “I need to—excuse me.”
She turned and hurried toward the ballroom exit. Whoever that woman was, whatever racket she was running, Tess wanted no part of it—this night had already been enough of a disaster without adding a fanged con artist into the mix. Tess let out a sigh of relief when she pushed into the empty service stairway. Everything at the wedding was fine; there was no reason she shouldn’t head back up to her office and start looking for a new job—preferably one that put at least one ocean between Tess and everyone she’d seen tonight.
She heard the door to the stairwell open behind her, and her body tensed up. Was the woman following her? Were they going to have some kind of unpleasant confrontation?
“Why did you leave? We were talking.”
Tess froze. That wasn’t the woman—it was the best man.
“Um, I’m working!” she called down to him. “Have a nice night!”
She kept walking up the stairs, hoping the excuse would deter him, but she heard heavy footfalls, and in a few seconds he was beside her.
“Working?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “It’s midnight.”
He was big—like, linebacker big, with close-cropped hair and watery eyes—and something about his expression made Tess’s blood run cold. She wanted to get out of this stairwell, but he was blocking her path.
“I’m the manager of the hotel,” she explained, smiling pleasantly. “And this area is really only for employees. So if you’ll just head back down to the ballroom—”
“That doesn’t sound fun.” He slumped toward her, bracing himself against the wall so he loomed over her.
“Are you staying with us at the hotel?” Tess’s heart was thumping. “Perhaps I can send you up some complimentary room service, or call you a cab…”
“What’s wrong with right here?” He gave her that grin again, and Tess knew she should get the fuck out of this stairwell, but she was afraid that any movement might make him pounce. She frantically ran through options in her mind: If she screamed, would he startle? If she pushed him, would he fall?
But before she could do anything, the stairwell door opened again.
“Oh, there you are, I’ve been looking everywhere, naughty Tess.” The woman from earlier slipped in beside them, weaving her arm around Tess’s waist. Tess gave her a panicked look, but the woman seemed entirely unbothered.
“You…” The best man looked from the woman to Tess, his face somewhere between titillation and complete bewilderment. “You two are…you two?”
“Yes, well spotted, we usually do keep it to the two of us.” She kissed Tess’s cheek, and Tess’s face warmed. “Unless…darling? What do you think? Should we invite him to join us?”
“I…” Tess was the bewildered one now. “I don’t know?”
“Come on then, let’s give it a try.” She flashed them both a dazzling smile, then turned to the best man. “What do you think, mate? You up for a little play? I hope you like it rough.”
The best man chortled, like he couldn’t believe his good luck. The woman repositioned herself so his back was against the wall, and then leaned in to kiss him…moving slowly…
Until the very last second, when she tilted her head to the side and sank her fangs into his neck instead.
“Oh my god!” Tess screeched.
The best man’s eyes shot open and he tried to shove her off, but her grip was strong—he was already sluggish from all the booze, and within a few seconds, she’d drunk so much blood that his neck lolled to the side and he slumped to the floor, completely unconscious.
“Damn,” the woman muttered as she wiped her mouth. “I think he got blood on my dress.”
Tess was shaking—she felt like her brain had short-circuited, completely unable to absorb what she’d just seen.
“You—” Tess sputtered. “You—you—”
“Yes, like I said.” The woman sighed and tidied her hair. “I’m Octavia Yoo, and I’m a vampire. Believe me now? You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Welcome?”
“For dealing with that.” Octavia nodded at the man heaped on the floor. “I should probably kill him. Do a service for womankind.”
“Don’t!” Tess yelped. “I mean—the police, the hotel, I work here—”
“Take it easy, I was just having a laugh! Humans get so serious about death.” Octavia peered at Tess with concern. “Goodness, you’ve gone pale. Do you need a water or something?”
For some reason, this struck Tess as unbelievably funny.
“Oh sure! Sure, Octavia Yoo, pretend vampire from my favorite books, will you run down to the bar and grab me a Dasani?”
“What’s that?” Octavia wrinkled her nose.
“It’s a—never mind—what the fuck is going on right now?”
“In the first place, I’m not pretend, as you’ve previously argued and can plainly see. In the second place—I’m sorry, but must we have this conversation in a stairwell standing over an unconscious man? It’s so…déclassé.”
“What conversation are we having, exactly?” Tess felt lightheaded.
“The one where I explain that eight nights ago, I crossed over from the Isle to New York City with no warning or explanation, that I find myself utterly alone and completely without my powers, and that I’ve come here to ask for your help.”
“How…” Tess shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you’re an ancient vampire, and I’m the night manager of a hotel in Brooklyn. How can I possibly help you?”
“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.
“Listen,” Tess said softly. “I’d love to help you, it’s just—wouldn’t that be pretty dangerous? To visit an island full of very thirsty vampires?”
“Oh god no, you wouldn’t actually be visiting the Isle,” Octavia clarified. “That’d be suicidal. I’ll just give you my scent vial so that Callum will smell me when you get to the crystal bridge that links the Isle to Bar Between. It’s the only way on or off the Isle, and it’s covered in sunlight—no vampire can touch you there. You’ll stay in the light, give him the message, and be on your way, no worse for wear. Sound all right?”
“Oh.” Tess felt relieved, but also strangely disappointed. “So you’re saying—I wouldn’t get to explore the Isle, see the places in Blood Feud? Like Nantale’s compound or the moonflower meadow or the milky jade pools or whatever.”
“You really do love those books, don’t you?” Octavia’s lips were thin.
“Yeah, guilty.” Tess dipped her head and tucked her hair behind her ears. “And I guess, speaking of the books…Callum.”
“What about him?”
“I don’t need to be, you know. Afraid of him?”
Tess’s heart beat faster—she thought of the disgusting best man in the stairwell, of Rick in the bathroom doorway, smiling affably, touching her arm. And those weren’t even deadly vampires. They were just fucking guys.
“Look at me,” Octavia instructed, and Tess obliged. “My brother is a good man. That’s the worst part of being here—it’s not about losing my powers, it’s about being apart from him. For a hundred and thirty years, he’s been my best friend, closer to me than my own skin, and now I can’t feel him at all. Have you ever felt anything like that? Like the closest person in the world to you was just…gone?”
Tess closed her eyes, wishing she could picture anything but Joni’s disappointed face. She nodded slowly.
“Then you know how it feels,” Octavia said. “And you know me. That’s why I picked you. Of all those people on your message boards, your—what do you call them? Friends?”
“Mutuals.” Tess smiled at the absurdity of teaching internet parlance to a vampire.
“That’s a stupid term, I’m not repeating it.” Octavia sniffed. “Anyway, out of all of them, you seemed to care less about me as a character, and more about me as a person. And I thought, okay. If I can find her, maybe she can help. If I can find her, maybe I won’t be so totally alone.”
Tess looked out at the wedding, which finally seemed to be winding down. Groups of friends were sitting at tables, drinking and laughing; the bride and groom twirled slowly in the middle of the mostly empty dance floor. Tess thought about her friends at the hotel, all of whom were fun company, but none of whom really knew her. She thought of her parents, how her relationship with them was really nothing more than an occasional phone call. And she thought of Joni, of everything they used to have. How all of it was gone now. Maybe forever.
Ever since leaving Columbia, Tess had felt like a stranger in her own life, working at someone else’s job, having someone else’s conversations. She had no idea how many times she’d read Blood Feud in the past three years—a dozen? A hundred? But it meant something real to her that Octavia Yoo, a woman who had brought her so much comfort, was now asking Tess to be part of her story. More than that, Tess had the distinct sense that saying yes to Octavia could change her own story.
“It’s funny,” Tess said, though it wasn’t at all. “For the past three years, I’ve been pretty much alone myself.”
“Well then.” Octavia lifted her glass. “It’s a good thing we found each other.”