Chapter 18
When Tess woke up, the light was soft and white, like the prettiest morning sunlight filtered through the finest silk.
“Where are we?” She stretched in bed luxuriously, like a cat. The bed was all white too; the sheets were crisp and cotton.
“You’ve been here before.” Callum rolled over and smiled at her—not his usual teasing smirk, something sweeter. “Don’t you remember?”
“I don’t know this place,” Tess murmured. She was confused, but she also knew he wasn’t wrong.
“You could,” he said. “You just have to walk through that door.”
Tess looked behind her—he was right, there was a doorway. The door was made of white marble, patterned with the same ancient runes she’d seen on the door to Bar Between back in Vinegar Hill.
“There’s no silver tree with yellow leaves.” Tess was worried. “How do I know this is the right door?”
“The same way you know everything.”
He took her hand, and his skin was warmer than she’d ever felt it.
“The light,” she realized. “It’s safe for you?”
“It’s safe for both of us.” He kissed her palm. “I promise.”
“Come with me,” she urged, and he nodded. He didn’t need convincing.
She wore a nightshirt and he wore pajamas, the same cool cotton as their bedsheets.
“I’m so nervous,” she told him as they approached the door.
“You don’t have to be.” He squeezed her hand. “Everyone’s waiting.”
Slowly, she pulled open the white marble door, and when she saw what was behind it, she was so happy she nearly cried.
It was the library at Columbia, her favorite round room, an oak table piled high with books and a picture window overlooking a cluster of trees.
“Is this really happening?” Tess whispered. “How did we get here?”
“You found the answer,” he told her. “You brought us home.”
His smile was so beautiful, so kind—she felt like her joy was so powerful it couldn’t possibly be contained within one person’s body. She threw her arms around his neck, and he drew her close, holding her in his strong arms.
“Are you going to kiss me now?” She beamed at him.
“Word of warning, love.” He grinned. “Once I start, I’m not likely to stop.”
He leaned toward her, but they were interrupted by a banging on the door.
“What is that?” she asked him.
He shook his head—he didn’t know.
The banging grew louder—someone was shouting her name.
“Who’s there?” she called. She took a step toward the door—when she turned back, Callum was gone, and the room had gone pitch black.
“Callum?!” she screamed in a panic. “ Callum! ”
—
“Tess, open the door!”
Tess woke with a shot—oh god, what was happening—she never slept long anywhere. How was it possible she’d fallen dead asleep sharing a bed with a fucking vampire?! Callum was out cold, curled on his side—was he okay?
“Callum,” Tess croaked, her voice thick with sleep. “Wake up, someone’s here.”
But he didn’t move—a sickening wave of dread took hold of Tess. She shook him, but he didn’t respond—oh god, was he dead? She rolled him onto his back and saw that he was breathing—oh, thank god. The knocking was getting louder. She flew to the door and pulled it open. Sylvie and Nantale were there. Sylvie was holding a large pot full of something that smelled sour and herbaceous.
“Come quickly,” Tess panted. “He fell asleep. I can’t wake him.”
“Move,” Nantale said firmly, and Tess did. Nantale and Sylvie sped across the room to Callum—Sylvie stripped off the bedding as Nantale laid him out flat.
“You found the lilies?” Tess asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “Did everything go okay?”
“Quiet, girl,” Nantale ordered.
“Tess, will you get me some fresh water?” Sylvie asked, her voice calm but urgent.
Tess rushed to the sink as Sylvie removed the dressing from Callum’s wound. Tess gasped when she saw how bad Callum’s leg looked—the wound had festered, the veins around it were black.
“He’s still breathing,” Sylvie reassured her. “That means we can still save him.”
Tess nodded, hoping fervently that she was right. Sylvie cleaned the wound with the water and a white cloth, then dipped a wooden rod into the poultice.
“This is going to hurt,” Sylvie said to Tess and Nantale. “I need you to keep him still.”
Nantale nodded, then placed one hand on each of Callum’s ankles—she was strong enough to keep him from kicking. Tess climbed back into the bed and took his hand.
Sylvie used the rod to spread the poultice across Callum’s wound, and he woke with a shot.
“Fuck! What the bloody fuck—”
“It’s okay.” Tess clasped Callum’s hand as hard as she could. “Sylvie’s putting on the poultice. She’s going to cure you. That’s just the medicine working, you’re okay. Try to stay still if you can.”
Callum looked up at Tess, tears streaming from his eyes. She knew he was more than a century old, but he looked so young to her then, like a little boy in terror.
“It’s okay,” she said again, removing one of her hands from his so she could brush the hair back from his forehead. “We’re going to get you better, and then we’re going to get you home to your sister, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.”
Tess realized that she was crying too. She tried to blink back the tears, but Nantale was already eyeing her. Nantale didn’t say anything, though—she just held down Callum’s legs as Sylvie finished applying the poultice and redressing the wound.
“There,” Sylvie said. “It’s done.”
Callum’s eyes were closed; he was breathing heavily, but the pain seemed to be much less than it had been even a few moments before.
“How long will it take to work?” Nantale snapped at Sylvie.
“I’ve never done this before,” Sylvie replied evenly. “We’ll just have to wait.”
“Fine,” Nantale said curtly, removing her hands from Callum’s ankles and standing up. “Alert me when something changes.”
Nantale looked down at Callum once more, her hands clasped tightly together, before she turned and swept out of the room.
“Tess?” Callum asked softly.
His eyes fluttered open, his thick lashes wet with sweat and tears.
“I’m here,” she whispered. She squeezed his hand, and he looked into her eyes. “What do you need?”
“I need…” His eyelids were heavy; he was struggling to stay awake. “I need…”
“You need to rest.” Sylvie put one hand on Callum’s shoulder and the other on Tess’s back. “And Tess probably needs to eat something, am I right?”
“Oh.” Tess looked up at Sylvie. “No, I’m fine. I can stay here.”
“I know you want to, mamaleh.” Sylvie rubbed Tess’s back gently. “But he needs to sleep, let the medicine work. And you’ll feel so much better after a meal and a shower. I’ll watch him, I promise.”
“Is that okay, Callum?” Tess turned to Callum.
“?’Course.” He nodded—his breath already seemed easier, and he looked more relaxed.
“See?” Sylvie smiled at Tess. “Go ahead, we’ll be fine. Do you need anything? Do you want me to make you some food?”
“No, there’s plenty in my room,” Tess said—then something occurred to her. “Actually, I have a question. Does this compound have a library?”
After Tess left, Callum asked Sylvie for some more clove tea, so she put on a kettle.
“So,” she said, her voice a little too casual. “Tess spent the night here?”
“ Sleeping, ” Callum emphasized. “Do I look like I’m in any fit state to do more than that?”
“Not really,” Sylvie conceded. “But you want to?”
Callum laughed softly. Just hours ago, he hadn’t thought he’d live through the night. The pain of Sylvie applying the poultice was excruciating, but it was already dulling, and he could feel the antidote working within him. He knew it wouldn’t be long until his strength returned—and all he could fucking think about was getting that woman back in his bed. God, he was so predictable.
“Doesn’t matter what I want,” he said gruffly. “She’s afraid of me.”
Sylvie’s face softened. “If that were true, she wouldn’t have shared a bed with you.”
“Sure, when I could barely move.” Callum sighed. Sylvie looked at him shrewdly.
“Is she afraid, or are you?”
“Me?” Callum scoffed. “Afraid of her? What, you think she’s gonna stake me when I’m all postcoital and glowy? She just saved my life.”
“And have you ever stopped to wonder why she did that?” Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Do you think it’s possible the two of you might need each other, and that’s why you’re both so scared?”
“I know you look like a wise grandma, but I’m actually much, much older than you.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot,” Sylvie said frankly.
“Well—what do I do then?” His tone was grumpy, but he still felt vulnerable.
“Feh, what do I know?” The kettle whistled, and Sylvie poured some steaming water into a mug. “If it was me, I’d show her you’re not afraid and she doesn’t have to be.”
After a couple of wrong turns—one down a trick passageway with doors that all led back to each other and took Tess the better part of an hour to get out of, another into a room that looked like an operating theater but was lavishly appointed in brocade and velvet and definitely seemed like an Eyes Wide Shut situation—Tess finally found what she was looking for.
The compound’s library wasn’t a room, exactly—more like a giant glass terrarium that housed an elaborate treehouse. Except “treehouse” was far too reductive: This was a self-contained tree city, with at least twenty towering oaks whose long boughs twisted and intertwined to provide a kind of webbing, on which there were dozens of wooden platforms, each about the size of a small room, filled with bookshelves and tables and comfortable chairs. An intricate system of stairways and ladders connected the various platforms; it would take hours to explore them all. The whole place had a twinkle-lit glow—there were fairy lights strung through the branches and lamps with jewel-bright stained glass shades on every table—all of which reflected in the glass enclosing the library and the trees outside the room.
“Oh my god,” Tess said aloud. She quickly looked to see if anyone else was here—the last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a labyrinth fifty feet off the ground with a vampire who fancied a snack. But the library was totally silent except for the soft rustle of leaves.
Tess wasn’t sure how she could possibly navigate all these books—finding one that had the exact information she needed seemed utterly improbable. But when she ascended the staircase to the first platform, just a few feet off the ground, she discovered it held several plush wingback chairs and a card catalogue. She opened a few drawers at random to see what topics they held, including “Crusades, role of vampires in” and “Garlic, common myths regarding,” before she found the card for “Portals, properties of.” On the card’s back side, there was a whole list of books, many of which were in languages Tess couldn’t understand. She decided to start with a philosophical text on dimensional theory, a memoir of a time traveler, and a compendium of gems that could be used to enhance other forms of magic (which she didn’t expect to be all that useful, but it sounded fun). Each book listed on the card had a corresponding platform number. The platforms were arranged in a haphazard spiral pattern, and each platform had a small wooden post with a gold plaque engraved with its respective number. So Tess took her card and got to climbing.
As breathtaking as the library was when she walked through the door, it was somehow even better once she started making her way up the platforms. Each one was different, reflective of the books it housed: The carved wooden chairs in the Egyptology section were inlaid with gold hieroglyphics, while the section on common remedies for vampire ailments was its own small greenhouse filled with herbs for various tinctures. The gemology section felt like being inside a giant geode, every surface spiky with glittering crystals. And all of it felt like floating through a forest, rich with the scents of pine, soft leather, and ancient books.
It was Tess’s idea of heaven—and it made her miss Columbia so badly her chest throbbed with a dull ache.
She remembered how it felt those first few weeks at school, the outrageous notion of being paid (an absolute pittance, but paid nevertheless) to spend her days surrounded by scholarship on all her favorite topics. It was ironic that she was in this library trying to figure out how to get back to New York when she’d come to the Isle in the first place because she was desperate to escape. She’d been terrified when she saw Rick at Joni’s party—but was he scarier than the vampires in this place? More frightening than standing up to Tristan or staking Althea in the gut? Was some golden boy with a rich dad enough of a threat to keep Tess from living the life she’d worked so hard for, the future she’d dreamed of?
After hours in the library, Tess found all the books she was looking for, but she didn’t feel any closer to understanding the portal she’d seen in the moonflower meadow (let alone how to re-create it). The philosophical text was too dense to parse; the time-traveling memoirist used objects from the past to create his portals, which was interesting—maybe something Tess had brought with her from New York could help to create a portal to get back there? She’d have to see if she could find another book to confirm that theory. The compendium of gems was, as expected, more fun than it was useful. It had gorgeous illustrations of fabulous jewels that could be used to enhance all kinds of spells, but the only one it mentioned for portal magic was a rare snowflake obsidian mined exclusively in Antarctica, which reminded Tess of the dome she’d walked through back in Brooklyn to get to Bar Between. But Tess thought it rather unlikely they’d find any on the Isle. (Glamoured or otherwise man-made stones, Tess learned from the book, were of no use for magic, because they lacked the inherent properties of the places from which they were mined.)
Tess’s stomach growled—Sylvie’s pastries were delicious, but she needed a proper meal. She carried her books to Callum’s rooms, feeling increasingly nervous as she walked down the compound’s empty hallways. She wanted so badly for him to be better. She wanted herself to be better too.
But when she knocked on his door, no one answered.
“Sylvie?” she called softly, not wanting to wake Callum if he was sleeping. “Callum, are you in there?”
When there was no response, she gently tried the door handle, and it opened right up. The room was empty, but there was a note on the desk scrawled in Callum’s slapdash writing:
Tess—Meet us in the great room. C.
Tess knew that vampires made fast recoveries, but had Callum really gotten better so quickly that he could already leave his room? She hurried down the hall, hoping everything was all right. She wondered if Nantale had called a clan meeting, and if so, what it was about—maybe news had spread about the crystal bridge? But when Tess made it to the great room, she saw something different entirely.
Two dozen vampires were there, all yelling at one another.
“I am not rude !” Angelique huffed. “I’m truthful, god, there’s a difference!”
“At least you’re described at all!” Hamish looked on the brink of tears. “I’m only mentioned in an aside, Angelique. An aside!!”
Every single one of the vampires was holding a copy of Blood Feud.
“Oh my god.” Tess had to stifle a laugh. “Are they—is this—?”
“Welcome to vampire book club.” Callum appeared beside her, a snide grin playing on his lips. “Shall I fetch you a chardonnay?”