Chapter 5
Excerpt from Blood Feud
(book one, chapter twenty-two)
by August Lirio
Isobel paced her bedroom furiously, clutching the intricately carved dagger Felix had given her for protection. Why wasn’t he home yet? He was only supposed to talk to Callum and Octavia, and that shouldn’t have taken long…
Unless something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
She snapped to attention with every noise, each rush of wind or snapping twig interrupting the eerily silent evening, waiting for any sound of Felix returning. When she heard footfalls pounding up the tower stairway, she flew to her door, her heart in her throat: Was it Felix, or was it someone else coming to say that her lover had died?
Her whole body pooled with relief when she saw him, his pale skin gleaming in the moonlight streaming through her doorway.
But then she saw his clothes were soaked with blood.
“Are you all right?” she cried, rushing to him. He pulled her in and kissed her, his touch shockingly gentle given the urgency of his manner.
“They’re brutes,” he whispered. “Barbarians.”
“What happened?” Isobel cradled his beautiful face as they sat on her bed.
“It was a trap, a vicious fight. We barely made it out alive—and we wouldn’t have at all if it hadn’t been for the poison daggers you made. All I wanted was for them to join our clan, to see that we’re safer together than we are apart.”
“You’re right,” Isobel reassured him softly. “Of course you’re right.”
“Callum doesn’t think so.” Felix laughed bitterly. “He said he’d rather risk death every single day than take orders from me. He said…”
Felix’s voice caught in his throat, and Isobel ached with sympathy.
“What, my love?” she asked softly. “What did he say to you?”
“He said Konstantin never took me seriously. And that Callum never would, either.”
Felix looked down, his face flushed with shame.
“Oh, you can’t listen to that!” Isobel cried out. “I know you were loyal to Konstantin, but he’s dead now, Felix. You have to make your own way, do what you think is right.”
“But how?” Felix looked bereft. “How can we go on when that clan is out to obliterate us? Not just Callum and Octavia—all of them. Tristan is a vicious killer, and Hamish is just as cunning as he is deadly. Antoinette and Angelique look like sweet teenage girls, but I saw them tear off a grown man’s arm and drink blood from his mangled flesh. And Nantale…”
He trailed off. The mere mention of Nantale’s name sent a chill down Isobel’s spine. Nantale was the leader of Callum and Octavia’s clan, rumored to be the oldest vampire on the Isle and the strongest as well, capable of murdering anyone she chose. And Isobel knew that if Nantale got the chance, she’d end Felix’s immortal life without a second thought.
“How did you escape?” Isobel’s voice was tender, but her need was primal. She had to know that Felix could hold his own against this beastly clan, could keep himself safe. Nothing could happen to Felix. She couldn’t go on without him.
“We ran.” Felix shook his head with disgust. “We had no other choice.”
“I’m glad.” Isobel’s heart swelled. She climbed into his lap, straddling him—and even though his face was lined with humiliation, she could feel his desire straining against his breeches.
“How can you be glad?” he whispered. “How can you feel anything but embarrassment to be with a coward?”
“You’re not a coward,” she assured him, squeezing her thighs against his. He pulled her closer, his hands warm and firm at the small of her back. “It’s no mark of humiliation that you’re nothing like Nantale and her ghouls. Felix, it’s a badge of honor.”
Transcript of Here to Slay podcast, episode 87
Cat: Hey, this is Cat!
Ruby: And this is Ruby. We have some very exciting news today—Cat, do you want to tell them?
Cat: I’M READING BLOOD FEUD!
Ruby: Yeah, you are!!!
Cat: Only took you four years to drag me onto this train, kicking and screaming, but now I am fully on board and basically the conductor.
Ruby: Okay, Shining Time Station.
Cat: Wow, deep cut.
Ruby: PBS millennials rise. How are you liking the books so far, Cat?
Cat: As my grandma always says: I don’t like them. I love them.
Ruby: Your grandma loves sexy vampire novels?
Cat: You know that’s not what I meant, but as a matter of fact, she does. Shout-out to Grandma Vidya!
Ruby: So today, in the interest of furthering Cat’s Blood Feud education and appreciation, we’re going to get into the differences between the two main tribes in the novels.
Cat: Two vampire clans, both alike in dignity.
Ruby: Precisely. So the simplest way to break this down is that on the Isle, the heroes live on the east side and the villains live on the west side.
Cat: Joke’s on the heroes, the villains get better bagels. Okay, so the east side is Felix and Isobel?
Ruby: Exactly. This clan is all about order—that’s like Felix’s whole thing. He wants there to be a vampire hierarchy with sheriffs and accountability to stop indiscriminate violence.
Cat: And the west side? Callum and Octavia’s clan?
Ruby: They looooove indiscriminate violence. Clan of chaos!!!
Cat: Maybe they get to this later in the books, but like why did the two clans form? Why do they hate each other so much?
Ruby: This is gonna sound a little reductive, but it’s basically sibling rivalry? I know you just referenced Romeo and Juliet, but the story is actually closer to King Lear. Before the Isle, Felix, Callum, and Octavia all worked for a big bad vampire named Konstantin. And Konstantin was, like, a super villain. Think Thanos, Voldemort without the transphobia, whatever.
Cat: Wait, but I thought Felix was a good guy?
Ruby: He is! Felix always believed he could bring Konstantin to the side of good, could use his influence to help create more order in the vampire community. But Felix wasn’t sired by Konstantin—
Cat: Meaning Konstantin didn’t make him a vampire with his own blood?
Ruby: Exactly. But Konstantin did sire Callum and Octavia—in fact, they’re the only two vampires he ever sired. And Felix was always pretty butt-hurt that Konstantin favored Callum and Octavia over him, no matter how hard he worked for Konstantin’s approval.
Cat: Wooooooow, huge Kendall Roy vibes. Who are Callum and Octavia? Roman and Shiv?
Ruby: They’re certainly not Connor.
Cat: America’s first pancake, gone but not forgotten. Okay, so this actually makes a ton of sense to me! Because Konstantin died right before everyone was sent to the Isle, right? So now there’s a power vacuum, with Felix on one side, and Callum and Octavia on the other?
Ruby: You got it! On the east side you have Team Felix, where everything’s nice and organized and kinda noble but also occasionally verging on boring? On the west side you have Callum and Octavia, and it’s all about hedonism—they do whatever they want, whenever they want, without sparing a thought for any possible consequences. This clan is a lot more dangerous than Felix’s clan, but they’re also a lot more exciting. That’s why fans love them so much.
Cat: Well, Ruby, if you want more danger and excitement in your life, you may want to consider trapeze lessons—and luckily, we have a discount code for you to do just that!
Ruby: Really, Cat?
Cat: It’s been kind of a slow month for ads.
Tess barely had time to register her journey through Flora’s portal, but she felt it in her stomach—a lurch like a too-fast elevator, except instead of just going up, it seemed to move her body in every possible direction simultaneously. She doubled over, bracing herself against her knees so as not to topple sideways.
“Fucking hell,” she whispered. She inhaled deeply, and the air felt cool and clean.
After a few big breaths, her stomach began to settle, and Tess straightened up and took stock of her surroundings. It was a grove of trees, misty but not gloomy, thickly populated with young-growth evergreens that made the whole place smell like Christmas. The light was dim and pleasing—a mix of orange, pink, and lavender, like the first minutes after sunset. Behind her was another silver birch tree and a little igloo like the one she’d used to enter Bar Between, except this one was made of dark petrified wood that blended seamlessly with its surroundings.
Okay, she thought, so far, so good. She’d come through the bar unscathed, she had a way to get back home, and beyond the trees, she could see the outline of the crystal bridge, mammoth and steeped in sunlight. There was a path through the grove, and Tess hurried down it so she could get a better look. She’d read about the bridge in the Blood Feud novels, of course, but that was nothing like seeing it hulking before her, glittering in the light, refracting thousands of rainbows over the sparkling iridescent waters of the lilac river below it.
“It’s like I walked into a fever dream of Lisa fucking Frank,” Tess muttered, gaping at the sheer size of the bridge, the intensity of the colors.
As Tess got closer to the bridge, she was able to see the silhouettes of buildings on the Isle beyond. It was darker there, but Tess could make out what had to be enormous homes—towering gables, flying buttresses, and even a turreted palace. She felt a small twinge of regret that she’d never fully get to experience it, this place she’d spent so many hours reading about, imagining, visiting in her dreams. But it was exhilarating just to see it, to know it was real, that she might be the only human ever to have gotten this close.
Tess felt a reassuring surge of warmth as she stepped into the sunlight at the foot of the bridge, and her rushing pulse slowed enough that she could take a moment to appreciate the staggering beauty of this place. The glimmer of the water, the sparkle of the cut crystal, all of it was beyond anything she’d ever seen on Earth—and, Tess realized, maybe that was the point. If the vampires were lulled into complacency by a beautiful prison, they might not fight as hard to get out.
As Tess walked closer to the Isle, the buildings came into sharper focus, but she didn’t see any movement at all. It was pretty dark outside the bridge’s banner of sunshine—was this their nighttime? Maybe all the vampires were asleep? Or maybe this part of the Isle wasn’t very populated? As best as she could tell, the crystal bridge approximated the location of the Brooklyn Bridge, and she was near the Isle’s southern tip. Tess knew from Blood Feud that most of the vampires on the Isle lived on one side or the other of the forest at the Isle’s center, which served as a sort of neutral zone in the ongoing conflict between the Isle’s two main clans. So it stood to reason that this part of the Isle would be empty.
At least, that’s what Tess was telling herself as she stepped off the bridge and into the final stripe of sunlight that offered any sort of protection. The Isle was as silent as the forest on the other side of the bridge had been, but the silence felt different here—charged, somehow. Alive with the possibility of danger.
Quickly, her movements jittery, Tess reached into the neckline of her dress and extracted Octavia’s scent vial. Her hands shook as she unscrewed the little cap, but she was flooded with relief as the heady smell of Octavia’s perfume filled her nostrils: smoke and musk, leather and rose, overwhelmingly and unmistakably the same as the woman Tess had met in New York. This was going to work. All she had to do was wait.
How long would it take Callum to get here? A minute? Five? Tess took out her phone to see what time it was (did they even have time zones on the Isle?), but it wouldn’t turn on. She wondered if the entire dimension was some kind of technological dead zone—or possibly she was just out of battery.
After several minutes, Tess started to get antsy. Octavia hadn’t prepared her for this possibility. What should Tess do?
“Callum,” Tess whispered. “Callum.”
Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it—if any vampire was nearby, there was no doubt in her mind that they could too. But as she got closer and closer to the place where the bridge’s hot sunshine melted abruptly into darkness, she still couldn’t sense any movement, even as she was just inches away…
No. This was too crazy. She couldn’t step across that line—she had to go back. She’d just tell Octavia what happened, and maybe they could try again? Or figure something else out? It was time to get the hell out of here.
Except that the second she turned her back on the darkness, she felt a blunt object crack across the back of her head—like a thick stick, or a baseball bat. Stars exploded into her vision and she staggered from the pain, stepping out of the safety of the sunshine—and as soon as she did, she felt an arm around her neck and heard a low voice in her ear.
“Aren’t you a long way from home?”
She tried to answer—or fight, or do anything useful—but her body went rigid in a state of absolute terror and panic. There was too much pressure against her throat. She felt her consciousness slipping away, and then everything went black.
The first thing Tess registered was the sound of voices, hushed and arguing—arguing about her, she realized quickly. She heard the sound of rushing water, but she had the distinct impression she wasn’t outside. She was sitting, and her wrists and ankles were bound with rope. All around her were the most mouthwateringly delicious smells, roast meats and fragrant stews. Tess was desperate to open her eyes and see what was going on, but given the conversation, she thought it might be wise to play dead a little longer.
“I know you’re joking right now.” A man sighed dramatically. “We’re all starving, and you’re not going to let us feed?! You’re doing us dirtier than Charles did Lady Di, and you know I don’t say that lightly.”
“You are not starving—you’re literally attending a feast,” a woman replied wearily. “You do not like the food you have. There is a difference.”
The woman’s voice lilted with an accent Tess couldn’t quite place, though it sounded African. Was that Nantale, the leader of Callum and Octavia’s clan? Was Callum here too?
“If we keep her alive, we can feed on her indefinitely,” a man with a cold voice interjected—Tess was almost certain this was the same man who’d grabbed her from the bridge. A shiver ran down Tess’s spine. She knew there was a chance that she’d be killed on this island, but to be held captive and used as a human blood bag for months, years, even decades on end?
“Fool.” The woman with the accent clicked her tongue. “Thinking only of your most base desires.”
“I’m a vampire,” the cold-voiced man replied unapologetically. “My desires are what define me.”
“And do you not desire to leave this isle, Tristan?” The woman was dangerously quiet. “Did it not occur to you that the sudden arrival of a human from our old world might herald an opportunity to return there? Or would you rather drink from just one neck for as long as she lives, waiting your turn like a pauper on a bread line?”
Tess tried to be still, but her pulse was thrumming beneath her skin. In Blood Feud, Tristan was known as the most violent member of Callum and Octavia’s clan—if he was the one who grabbed her, she was lucky she wasn’t dead already. But if Nantale wanted Tess alive, then Tess had a fighting chance.
“What if we, like, used a syringe?” a girl asked. “To portion out the blood.”
“Omg, that’s so smart,” another girl agreed. “That way everyone gets a little! So balanced, you’re such a Libra.”
Tess clenched her jaw to stop herself from reacting—that was Antoinette and Angelique, the rude teen girl vampires! Tess loved them!! She was dying to open her eyes and get a look at everyone—but not if doing so would lead to her literal death, which still seemed very much on the table.
“Come on, Nantale,” the dramatic man wheedled—Tess was pretty sure he was Hamish, a fabulous queer vampire who loved pop culture. “You don’t really think she knows a way off the Isle, do you? And even if she does, what’s the harm in us having a little teacup full of blood while she tells us?”
“Why don’t we ask her right now?” Nantale suggested casually. “She’s been conscious for several minutes.”
Fuck! Tess thought. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!
In the silence that followed, Tess could almost feel everyone in the room turning toward her. She summoned every shred of courage in her body, every memory of standing on the subway telling some drunk guy to fuck off, and opened her eyes.
There was so much to take in, it was hard not to gasp. The room was spectacular, just as it had been described in Blood Feud—a cavernous, circular great room with turquoise stone walls inlaid with gold, a paneled glass ceiling, and intricate white marble flooring forming a latticework over water thick with bulrushes and lotus flowers.
But nothing was more overwhelming than the other people in the room. Because Tess was seated at a banquet table with at least a dozen vampires.
They were all ages, races, and sizes, and dressed in all different manners—but they all had that same look as Octavia—the otherworldly glow to their complexions, the self-possession, the unmissable, confident air of stone-cold killers. And despite the table laid with all manner of decadent foods, they were looking at Tess like she was dinner.
Say something, Tess urged herself. Say anything!
“Hi,” she managed weakly.
Motherfucker. She was surrounded by vicious monsters and all she could say was hi?!
“Hello.” Nantale offered a small smile. She was exactly how Tess had pictured her from Blood Feud, elegant and statuesque, with dark skin and black hair twisted back in an elaborate series of braids. Her exploits were the stuff of legend: As a human, she had been a gender-fluid spiritual medium, one of the most powerful in the history of the Lugbara people. In modern times, she’d be called trans, but that term didn’t exist in her culture and time; the duality of her identity was believed to be the source of her power to walk in both the human and spirit worlds. As a vampire, she was one of the greatest warriors the world had ever known—she was arguably the strongest vampire on the Isle, the commander of this clan. And now she was eyeing Tess with a sort of…bemusement?
“I take it you’re not a witch,” Nantale said.
“Oh, no.” Tess nodded with understanding. “Just a regular human. That’s why you bound my hands?”
“I’m sure you’ll forgive the precaution.” Nantale folded her arms. She wore simple, flowing pants and a sleeveless top made of crimson silk, which emphasized the warm glow of her skin in the room’s dim lighting. For having been dead nearly six hundred years, she looked exceptionally good.
“Of course,” Tess said softly. “Of all the precautions you could have taken, this one seems pretty measured.”
Nantale laughed softly as she approached Tess, and some of the other vampires joined in.
“So tell us, human,” Nantale intoned. “Who are you? What is your purpose here?”
“And what’s been going on for the last eleven years?” Hamish folded his arms. He had a flaming ginger beard, a pudgy belly, and an effete manner. “Did Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson get back together, or did the cheating ruin them forever?”
“Hamish, not now!” Nantale snapped.
“You have your priorities, I have mine,” Hamish retorted.
“Um, Kristen Stewart’s actually gay now?” Tess offered. “Total lesbian icon.”
Hamish approached Tess, his face lined with grave concern, and knelt before her.
“I need you to tell me everything.”
But before Tess could say anything, a desperate voice rang through the hall, deep and gravelly, with a crisp British accent.
“Octavia? Octavia, is that you?!”
Callum Yoo stood in the great room’s doorway. Tess could immediately see he was Octavia’s twin: He was tall and gorgeous like her, but where she was sharp and delicate, he was thick and muscular. It was obvious why everyone in Blood Feud was terrified of him—Tess didn’t know if she’d ever seen so much raw power emanate from a person.
Until he took one step forward and stumbled, grabbing a nearby column to stay standing. A few of the vampires rolled their eyes.
Was Callum Yoo…drunk?
“Callum, you’re wasted.” Antoinette sighed. “Octavia died, remember?”
Tess inhaled sharply. So Octavia was right: Callum had assumed her disappearance meant she was dead—and apparently he’d told the whole clan his suspicions.
“Of course he remembers, he’s refused to leave his rooms since it happened,” Angelique responded.
“Then why did he think she was here?” Antoinette asked.
“Who cares? This is boring.” Angelique turned to Nantale. “Can we drink some blood now?”
“I thought I smelled Octavia…” Callum shook his head, looking confused and devastated.
“As you may have noticed, that’s a literal human,” Hamish said.
Callum turned toward Tess in shock—the rest of the room looked at her too.
“Um, you’re right, you do smell Octavia,” Tess said, her heart pounding. “Because I have her scent vial.”
In a flash, Callum was right beside Tess—he moved faster than any creature Tess had ever seen, and he stared at Tess with a terrifying intensity. She was taken aback by how attractive he was—high cheekbones, gray eyes, curved nose, strong jaw covered in stubble, full lips pursed in a knowing smile. He ran a finger along Tess’s neck, and she tensed with fear—
“Callum,” Nantale warned, “what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m not going to hurt her.” Callum’s voice was gruff and low, and his scent reminded Tess of Octavia: pine and smoke and leather. He looped his finger inside the chain around Tess’s neck, slowly drawing the scent vial out of her cleavage. “I just want to know where she got this.”
“Octavia gave it to me,” Tess said with as much confidence as she could muster. “Because she’s not dead—she’s in New York City.”
“You’re lying,” he whispered. There was desperation behind his eyes, raw and vulnerable—it was obvious to Tess that he was in agony. He jerked on the chain and it snapped easily, ripping it right off Tess’s neck—she yelped in surprise and pain. “Did someone glamour this for you? Did Felix put you up to this?”
“Callum!” Nantale said sharply. “You haven’t wanted to discuss details, so I haven’t pressed. But now I must ask: Did you actually see your sister die?”
“No.” Callum gritted his teeth, and there were shocked reactions from the other vampires. “But I know exactly what happened. I know she’s dead.”
“She isn’t!” Tess protested. “I was just with her—she’s the one who took me to Bar Between and told me how to get to you. I work at a hotel in Brooklyn, she found me there and asked me to come here to tell you how she escaped the Isle. I was only supposed to go to the foot of the crystal bridge, she thought you’d smell the scent vial and come meet me there. Except…you didn’t. And someone grabbed me and brought me here.”
“Is this true?” Nantale demanded. “You know how to leave the Isle?”
“Yes, human. Tell us how to leave this island.” Tristan stepped toward them; Tess could see now he was tall and slender, with angular features and golden hair pulled back in a bun. “If it works, we go home. If it doesn’t, we feed on you. Either way, we get our first good meal in a decade.”
He gave her a chilling smile, and Tess’s pulse raced as the other vampires murmured in agreement.
“Silence.” Nantale held out her hand, and the vampires fell quiet. “Girl, tell us what you know.”
“Octavia doesn’t know exactly how she got back,” Tess explained, though she was so afraid, it was a struggle to keep her voice from shaking. “She told me as much as she could remember about where she was and exactly what happened, that she was in the graveyard in the forest when she was transported back to Central Park, but there’s no way to guarantee it would work the same way again.”
“When did she go back to New York?” Callum asked. “Did she tell you?”
“Eight nights ago—maybe nine now, I’m not really sure what day it is,” Tess answered.
“The same night you said she died,” Nantale said.
“She’s making this up.” Callum shook his head. “This could be a trap—”
“Callum, please. This island is the trap.” Nantale folded her arms. “We have to investigate the possibility that the girl is telling the truth, that there’s a way out of here for all of us. Do all of you agree?”
The vampires nodded, and Nantale turned to Callum. “Your sister spent years researching potential ways off the Isle, didn’t she?”
Callum nodded.
“Good,” Nantale went on. “Then you’ll work with the human—what’s your name?”
“It’s Tess.”
“Fine. Callum, you’ll work with Tess to determine how Octavia left the Isle and whether we can follow. And Tess, as long as you help us, I will personally assure your protection. No one in this clan will harm you, and no one outside this room will know a human has come to the Isle, understood?” She looked sharply at the group gathered around.
“Protect a human?!” Tristan spat. “If we feed on her, that’s not even harming her! There’s no reason to deny us blood.”
“Think, Tristan.” Nantale’s patience was wearing thin. “We have more than a hundred vampires living in this compound, and none of you has tasted human blood in more than a decade. If just one of you went too far, drank too much, our first real chance to leave this place could be over in an instant. Do you really think it’s worth the risk?”
Tess could see plainly that Tristan thought it was very much worth the risk.
“You’ve lost your judgment, Nantale,” he said quietly. “And if you aren’t careful, you’ll lose control of your clan.”
Nantale stood evenly, appraising Tristan.
“Perhaps you wish to challenge me right here?”
Tristan snarled, baring his teeth at Nantale. But he folded his arms and stepped back—the moment finished, at least for now.
“Good.” Nantale’s lips curved into the smallest smile. She waved her hand at a vampire standing in the shadows alongside the great room’s walls. “Sylvie? Untie our guest.”
An older woman whom Tess hadn’t noticed hurried forward to untie the ropes binding Tess’s wrists and ankles (she was older in human appearance, anyway—who knew how ancient any of these creatures actually was). Tess was relieved to be free of the ropes, but the whole time Sylvie was untying them, Callum never took his gaze off her.
“You really think this is a good idea?” Callum asked Nantale. “Letting a stranger into our compound?”
Nantale stood close to Callum.
“You are the only one I trust to do this,” she said, her voice so low that only he and Tess could hear it. “You saved us once before. Now you must do it again.”
Tess frowned—what did Nantale mean Callum had saved them? There was nothing like that in Blood Feud. If anything, Nantale’s clan were the aggressors, and Callum was the worst of the bunch.
“Do you want to eat?” Nantale touched Callum’s arm gently. “We’ve missed you at Sunday dinner. You’d be welcome company.”
“Think I’ll pass.” Callum eyed the rest of the vampires at the table, who’d mostly returned to their own conversations. Then he leaned down to murmur directly into Tess’s ear. “If I find out you’re lying about my sister, I’ll be eating well soon enough.”