Fang Ten

by Emery Belle

  “You already said that,” I shrieked, twisting my head this way and that as he tried shoving the poison-soaked rag over my nose. As I did, I caught a glimpse of his green eyes and realized they looked almost… vacant. Like if I knocked on the door, no one would answer. Had he been hit on the head with a surfboard one too many times?

  When he tried tipping my head back again to pour more hemlock syrup down my throat, I bit him in the hand, as hard as I could. He yelped and jumped back, rubbing the wound, my teeth marks visible in his skin. Uh-oh. Had I not thought this through? What happens when someone bites a vampire, and not the other way around?

  But that would have to be a problem for another day, because I needed to take the opportunity to try and get as much information out of Radu as possible. If he was going to poison me, I at least wanted some answers before I took my last breath.

  “Why did you kidnap Hattie?” I asked as he scowled at me and continued rubbing his hand. “Was it because of the argument the two of you were having over the rainbow eucalyptus tree?” Frankly, it seemed a little unreasonable of him to kidnap a woman simply because they were on opposite sides of a political issue, although I supposed stranger things had happened.

  At the mention of the tree, his scowl deepened. “Don’t even talk to me about that,” he growled, baring his fangs at me. I shrank back further in my chair, trying to get away from him. “Did you know that woman, Hattie Bumble, wrote a counter-petition to the High Court asking them to protect the tree? How absurd.” He tousled his hair again. “If I ever see her again, I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.”

  “Uh…” I glanced toward Hattie’s immobile form, then back at the vampire. What in the world was going on here?

  Radu gave a sudden full-body shudder and shook his head, then glanced down at the hand still holding the hemlock syrup and rag before looking back up at me. “You’re awake!” he said, sounding delighted. Then he frowned at me and eyed me up and down. “I must not have given you the right dosage. I think I underestimated your weight.”

  He’d just begun soaking the rag with the poison for a third time when his body suddenly crumpled to the floor and he lay there, motionless, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged.

  “Thank you, Radu, that will do.” A small, wizened man appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the room, one shriveled hand holding a wand, the other clutching a miniature porcelain figurine with windswept golden hair, tanned skin, brilliantly white fangs, and a surfboard. A tiny Radu.

  Fletcher Bumble chuckled. “As you can see, I haven’t quite worked out all the kinks.” He aimed his wand at the porcelain Radu and muttered a spell beneath his breath, and the real Radu began jerking uncontrollably on the ground, flecks of foam spewing from his mouth.

  “The physical portion of the spell seems to be okay,” Fletcher mused to himself, tapping his chin, “but something’s going wrong with the mental aspect.” He squinted at Radu, now motionless once more. “Perhaps the damage has become permanent?” Then he shrugged. “Oh well. No matter.” He tucked the porcelain Radu into the pocket of the paint-splattered apron he wore over his robes.

  “So you were controlling Radu through one of your porcelain dolls?” I asked, unable to hide my interest despite the predicament I currently found myself in. The magical world never ceased to amaze me.

  “Dolls?” Fletcher pursed his wrinkled lips. “These aren’t playthings, you half-wit. These are powerful magical objects that I’ve spent my life creating and perfecting.” He frowned down at the unconscious Radu. “Well, almost perfecting.” The elderly wizard glared at me, as if it were my fault he’d broken the vampire’s brain.

  “If you wanted to kidnap Hattie, why didn’t you just do it yourself?” I demanded, trying to keep Fletcher busy while I discreetly rubbed the ropes binding my ankles against a nail I’d just discovered was poking out of the leg of my chair. “Why get Radu to do your dirty business?”

  “Because Radu Maldova is an idiot, and he once confided in me that he holds a grudge against Hattie—the perfect combination for testing out my creation.” He patted the tiny Radu in his pocket. “His mind was malleable, and since he was already angry with her, he could be easily swayed to take action against her. It was an ideal opportunity, and I would have been a fool for not taking advantage of it.”

  Well, that explained how Radu knew to bring hemlock syrup to Hattie’s house to knock out the porcelain witches—he didn’t need to know about them ahead of time, because Fletcher did. But it didn’t explain why Fletcher felt the need to kidnap Hattie in the first place, and when I asked, a flicker of sadness crossed through his eyes so fast that I thought I’d imagined it.

  He gave me a hard look instead. “How would you feel if your wife of four hundred and eighty-one years left you for another man? A broomstick insurance salesman, of all things,” he spat, as if it were a dirty word. I wondered briefly if he had any idea that Hattie was dating Glenn, too, but knew better than to bring it up. Apparently, the entire world—minus Glenn—knew about Hattie and Arthur, including her husband.

  “I thought you and Hattie were getting a divorce,” I said, trying to fit together all the pieces of this sordid puzzle. Who knew a five-hundred-year-old witch could have such an active love life? I could almost admire her, if she hadn’t been two-timing Glenn. And Fletcher too, it seemed.

  “Never.” The word came out as a hiss, and when his eyes flicked toward the unconscious Hattie, I could see that they were brimming with hatred. “If I can’t have her, then nobody can. We were bound together until death.” He paused, twirling his wand between his liver-spotted fingers. “And we will remain together until death. Hers, not mine.”

  A sly smile curled his lips, and he began aiming his wand at different parts of Hattie’s body, as though testing which area was most vulnerable. “I’ve given her chance after chance these past few days to change her mind, but each time she has refused. My patience has worn thin. The time has come.”

  I recognized that maniacal glint in his eyes—I’d seen the same in Percival’s, in Wendall’s—and I began scraping the rope against the nail more feverishly. How many madmen could one island hold?

  Fletcher took a step toward Hattie, his wand pointed squarely at her heart, and opened his mouth to cast a spell. “Don’t hurt her!” I cried, breaking his concentration. “It doesn’t need to end this way.” I didn’t know if I was referring to Hattie, or myself, or both of us. Fletcher knew better than to leave any witnesses, and I wasn’t about to die in an airless, windowless room. Especially one that already had a coffin ready and waiting.

  He lowered the wand and frowned at me. “You’re quite right. I knew I was forgetting something.” He held up a finger. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll just be a moment.” Then he took three steps forward and disappeared from the room with a crack, leaving me alone with Hattie and the still-motionless Radu.

  I held my breath, wondering if this was some type of trick, and when he didn’t immediately materialize again, I launched my ankles against the nail, rubbing the rope until my skin was raw and burning. After much grunting, groaning, and swearing, the rope broke in two, and I hurled myself out of the chair and dropped to the ground to begin working on my bound wrists.

  The ropes frayed in a surprisingly short amount of time, and when my hands sprang apart, I immediately dove for my purse and, still tucked at the very bottom, my container of courage. I hadn’t brewed it for this purpose, but even so, I was about to need all the help I could get, however minimal.

  I downed it in a few swallows, sputtering against the awful taste—old feet and cinnamon. My chest immediately began warming from the inside, and a tingling sensation spread throughout my body, along with a burst of confidence in my own abilities. I had this.

  I marched over to the door, my chest puffed out, and tugged.

  It didn’t budge.

  I reared back my fist and smashed it into the door’s window.

  Solid as ever.

  Time was
running out, I could feel it. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead as I ran over to Hattie’s chair and began unknotting the ropes around her wrists and ankles. She slumped over, still unconscious, and I guided her into a controlled slide to the floor, propping her up against the velvet-draped wall until I could figure out what to do with her next. I did the same with Radu, dragging the vampire over beside Hattie. He let out a small moan, but his eyes remained closed and his face pale beneath his tan.

  A crack rent the air, and I swung around in time to see Fletcher reappearing, clutching something in his hand. A figurine. A figurine with long brown hair. Long brown hair that looked an awful lot like…

  Fletcher cast his wand at the figurine’s arm, twisting and contorting it backward. I screamed in agony as my own arm was flung behind me by an invisible hand and pain tore through it, bringing me to my knees.

  “Excellent.” Fletcher nodded in satisfaction and patted the miniature me. “I made this little beauty after you stopped by my shop and started nosing around. I knew you were no regular customer, which Kellen confirmed thanks to his timely arrival. Once you left, he told me you had a… habit… of inserting yourself where you don’t belong. I knew I had to be prepared.”

  “How did you know I figured out Radu was the kidnapper?” I panted, struggling to my feet. I hadn’t even known myself when Lydia, the receptionist at the morgue, had first called me with the test results from the bloodstains on Hattie’s carpet. Only when I remembered Radu’s alibi for the morning of Hattie’s disappearance—that he had been at the morgue collecting his weekly blood supply—did the pieces fall into place. How else could so many different blood types be mixed together on one carpet square? He must have dropped some of his supply during his struggle with Hattie and not noticed, probably because he wasn’t in his right mind.

  “Well, I didn’t know for certain,” Fletcher said, aiming his wand at the figurine’s feet. My own feet immediately fused together, and I tumbled back down to the ground. “Luckily, Radu happened to be in the morgue’s waiting room when the receptionist called you—and I had him under strict instructions to bring any pertinent information to me straightaway. Once he reported back to me, I immediately sent him to your dormitory to collect you.”

  Collect? Is that what he called knocking someone out with a deadly poison? That was rich.

  “Anyway.” Fletcher’s eyes snapped with annoyance. “Enough talking.” He stuffed the miniature Wren into his pocket and brandished his wand at me, sending me flying backward. I hit the wall and slid down beside Radu’s and Hattie’s motionless forms. Fletcher paced back and forth in front of us for a few moments, muttering to himself as he pointed his wand first at Radu, then Hattie, and finally…

  “You first.” He dragged his wand upward through the air, and I was tugged to my feet as if by invisible ropes. “Don’t worry,” he said, licking his dry lips and aiming his wand at my heart. “This will be quick and painless. I don’t like a mess.”

  Terror gripped me as I watched, helpless, as Fletcher opened his mouth to cast the deadly spell. A flash of orange light burst from the end of his wand and hurtled straight toward me, and in that moment, I reacted instinctively, throwing up my hand to shield myself from the inevitable.

  But the inevitable never came.

  “What…” Fletcher’s eyes widened in fear as energy pulsated from my hand in waves, warding off the light, stopping it inches from my chest. The same warmth I’d felt after drinking the cup of courage spread through me once more, electrifying me, setting my innate powers on fire. I could feel the magic burning through my skin as I cast my hand up, sending the light soaring into the ceiling, where it spiderwebbed outward, creating deep cracks that trembled ominously.

  “What have you done?” Fletcher roared as the house began to shake around us. Before my eyes, the very foundation started crumbling, sending great chunks of cement, stone, and brick tumbling around us. Fletcher took two steps forward, intent on vanishing, and was just about to take the third when the wall beside him caved in, instantly burying him under a mound of debris.

  I stood frozen in place for a split second before charging toward Hattie and Radu and grabbing them by the shoulders. “Come on come on come on!” I screamed, shaking them as hard as I could, praying that they would wake but knowing in my heart that my attempts were futile. A second wall was beginning to crack, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that we had moments, at best, to get out of the house.

  Tears stung my eyes as I looked down at Hattie and Radu, knowing I’d have to choose who to bring with me to safety—I wasn’t strong enough to drag both of them from the disintegrating house. They were innocent, both of them, two pawns in a twisted game they couldn’t possibly have won.

  And one of them was about to lose everything.

  I took a deep breath, bent down, and heaved Radu over my shoulder. The vampire was the least to blame of all of us, forced to submit to the will of a man who viewed his life as worthless, a mere means to an end.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to Hattie, hoping that she could somehow hear me. Then I hobbled to the door, which had caved in, and climbed over the rubble, my whole body straining under Radu’s dead weight.

  Sheer terror propelled me forward through the house, willing my legs to keep moving when I felt like I couldn’t possibly take another step. Finally I reached the front door and burst through it, tumbling with Radu onto the sidewalk just as the roof caved in and the house shuddered to the ground, collapsing in a pile of dust that rose into the sky like a phoenix taking flight.

  Chapter 17

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Sebastian asked, hovering outside my cubicle at The Islander offices while I packed my meager belongings into a cardboard box. I’d barely been employed at the paper long enough to collect a few pens, so the box looked absurdly empty. “I’m sure if you ask Sandrine nicely, you can have your old job back.”

  “That’s just it,” I said, tossing an eraser into the box. “I have no interest in getting my old job back.” I stopped packing and turned to face him, melting slightly as I caught sight of his forlorn face. “I’ll miss working with you too, Sebastian.”

  He gave me a sheepish smile, then stepped into my cubicle and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. I hugged him back, breathing in his woodsy scent, my heart pitter-pattering as he pulled back and gazed down at me before giving me a gentle kiss. We were officially dating, and had been since the evening of my confrontation with Fletcher Bumble—after hearing what had happened, Sebastian had raced to my dorm to make sure I was okay, and the raw relief in his eyes when I answered the door told me more than any words ever could.

  And I was happy with him, even if sometimes I found my thoughts drifting to another man, a man with eyes the color of a midnight sky and a slow smile that made me go weak at the knees. But there was no sense dwelling on him, not anymore, not when it simply wasn’t meant to be.

  I had to accept that.

  I powered off my computer for the last time and grabbed my bag from beneath my desk, feeling the eyes of all the reporters on me as I marched through the office, Sebastian at my heels in a show of support. Sandrine remained at her desk, stroking her cat, ignoring me as I walked past with my head held high. She hadn’t fired me—quite the opposite. Once my two-week suspension was over, she’d offered to reinstate me. And I’d turned her down flat. I had no interest in being a gossip columnist, not now, not ever. Greater things awaited me, I could feel it in my bones, and it was up to me to find out what they were.

  “We’ll miss you, Wren,” Glinna said, throwing her arms around me when I stopped at the front desk to say goodbye. Before I could protest, she dipped her hand into the pouch always hanging at her waist and doused me in sparkly pink fairy powder. “For good luck,” she whispered, giving me a squeeze before I walked out the door for the last time.

  “Can I apply that luck to my mixology exam?” I asked Sebastian as he escorted me outside and we walked together down t
he sidewalk toward the academy. The end-of-term exams were in full swing; Hunter, Garnet, and I had already suffered through our spellcasting exam, and as Lady Winthrop had warned us on countless occasions, it had been a doozy. But other than a slight mistake on my part that had sent Hunter to the school infirmary with bubbles coming out of his nose, I thought I’d done okay… hopefully okay enough to finally earn my wand.

  Today, though, I wasn’t sure what I was more nervous about—seeing Glenn for the first time since that fateful night, or sitting through my mixology exam. Sure, I’d solved the mystery of Hattie’s disappearance, just like Glenn had asked of me, but I’d also been forced to leave her for dead in a choice that haunted my every waking minute.

  On a happier note, Radu Maldova had made a full recovery and was already back at the beach, riding as many waves as he could. He’d also become something of a local celebrity; his surfing classes were so full that he now had a waiting list, as it seemed everyone on the island wanted to hear the juicy details of Radu’s harrowing encounter with Fletcher straight from his own mouth. As a thank you for saving his life, Radu had promised me as many free surfing lessons as I could handle; so far, I’d made it through less than half of one, and came away from it with a nasty gash on my forehead.

  “Don’t worry about the exam, you’ll do great,” Sebastian said, dropping a kiss on my forehead as we reached the academy. Hunter and Garnet, who had settled back into a tenuous friendship, were standing on the steps, their noses buried in their mixology books as they quizzed each other on the ingredients in a hair-growing tonic. I waved goodbye to Sebastian and joined them, waiting for the academy’s cracked bell to ring, our signal that the exam was about to begin.

  I was in the middle of reciting the ten types of cauldron materials when I felt a hand tapping me on the shoulder. Turning around, I came nose to nose with Glenn, who wrapped me in a long, hard embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered.