Reclaimed (Morta Fox Book 2)

by D. N. Hoxa

  Without a single thought in my head, I turned to my left and followed. After only a few stops, that one beating turned to two, and then three. It was overwhelming to know that so much fresh blood was within my reach. It was like I held the world in my hand and felt its weight, and I couldn’t drop it until I had tasted every single drop of blood those three marvelous hearts pumped.

  I stopped when I saw them. Two men and a woman. She was tied, the woman—more like a girl. Barely older than me, and with a scarf around her head, like Mama used to wear hers when she went to the market on Sundays. The two men walked and turned at every corner of the buildings around us, as if they could sense I was there, and they were hoping to lose me. I followed them patiently at first.

  They both had firearms at their sides, much dangerous looking than the one Papa used to hide under his bed. Maybe they could shoot silver bullets, too.

  I should’ve thought about it. I should’ve prepared myself better, watched the angles, tried to take one at a time, but the craving drove me to the brink of madness. If I hadn’t pulled the mask up to the top of my head, and practically thrown myself on them the second I did, I would’ve gone insane.

  I was barely heard when I landed, but the guy closest to me, turned. Before he could even be surprised, I had his body between my arms and my mouth was on his throat.

  The second I tasted the blood pouring from him, I was in a state of bliss.

  Heaven must be made of blood.

  A woman and a man screamed, but I didn’t care. I was feeding on the most marvelous thing ever made, and the world could wait.

  But the world didn’t wait. The man fired his firearm right next to my ear, or so it felt. And then the pain became my world.

  It started on my right side, right next to my belly button, and spread like fire, faster than the craving, to every part of my body. It made me blind. It made me deaf. It made me want to die.

  Silver. It had to be silver. I was already on the ground, and I barely saw the humans running away in panic as fast as their legs would carry them.

  I tried to sit up but it hurt so much—so, so much that my whole universe became my stomach. I touched it and felt the warm blood spread on my fingers. On instinct, I immediately put my hand to my mouth and licked, while in pain, every last drop of the blood.

  The bullet. The goddamn silver bullet was in me, and if I was going to stop hurting, I needed to pull it out of me. It would be easy. It would be just like removing the nail that I’d stepped on when I was about ten, and it had come through the other side of my foot. I’d passed out three times in the process, but I’d done it. I’d removed the nail from my foot and I’d lived. Just like I was going to do with the silver bullet.

  My fingers found the wound easily. It was agony, every single movement. And when I pushed my shirt up, I wished I could pass out. I didn’t. My brain registered every single string of pain clearly. It took me so long—or maybe it felt that way—to push only the tip of my finger inside my wound. I had no words. I tried to hold back my screams, but it was impossible. If only I had something to rest against while I sat on the ground.

  Ages passed before I touched the metal. My fingertip burned, but the pain from it felt sweet. It was nice to concentrate on it, instead of my stomach. Death seemed like a perfectly happy state of being compared to the horror I was in while two of my burned fingers caught the bullet of silver and pulled it out.

  It was impossible that I hadn’t passed out, but I learned another thing about being a vampire: my healing abilities were something close to a miracle. As soon as the bullet fell from my burned palm to the floor, my wound closed itself as the pain eased, almost instantly. If I’d needed to breathe, I would have taken a long breath then. Instead, I stood up.

  I felt a bit…not dizzy, but like I should’ve felt dizzy. My mask had fallen to my side, and I put it on again.

  I was weak. I needed blood. Call it instinct—I just knew that I needed blood to feel as I’d felt just half an hour ago: invincible. So I started to chase after the people who had shot me. And this time, I would be much more careful.

  I found them only a few minutes later, still alarmed and running. This time, I was patient. I felt my teeth turn sharp inside my mouth, but I drank the whole bottle of gin Dublin gave me and I watched.

  I watched them find a building, a tall one, much like the one I’d met Dublin in, and I followed them. For an hour or more, I sat a floor below them and I listened. It was amazing how I could hear every breath they took, every beat of their hearts, and every word they spoke in a language I couldn’t understand. It took them long enough to lie down, both men with firearms in their hands, and an eternity for their breathings to become slow and steady.

  Finally, they were asleep.

  I moved like a cat. One second I was there, and the next, I wasn’t. I grinned at myself. If it wasn’t for my stomach wound, which had already sealed shut but had left me weak, it would’ve been one of the best moments of my life. The mask went up when I finally moved inside the door of iron behind which the three humans slept.

  I was as silent as I knew how to be. I identified the man I’d drank from immediately. He had a red cloth tied around his neck. Red with blood. I could give him a break. I didn’t want to touch the girl, so I went for the other man. His heartbeat as steady and delicious as the blood that ran through his veins, calling my name, shouting it. I made sure to put my hand on his mouth and to sit on his chest so he couldn’t move. He had but a second to open his eyes and see me, before my teeth tore at his skin and blood touched my lips.

  It was no doubt heaven. Yes, the way the warm liquid moved through my throat was heaven. I could’ve done it for hours, taking my sweet, sweet time, but then the woman moved. When I turned, she was leaning on her elbows, looking at me with so much fear that if I’d had a heart, it would’ve stopped beating for a second.

  I couldn’t be that bad, could I? Not that bad to earn that look, right?

  But I could. Imagine how I looked like to her: a monster with sharp teeth, drinking the blood of a human being. She must’ve felt the same terror I felt when I stood in front of Ray.

  I shuddered, and immediately felt my teeth return to normal. Her eyes only grew wider.

  I wanted to say something. To tell her that I wasn’t going to hurt her. She thought she was next, I could see it. The man beneath me had already passed out. Blood dripped from his neck, and I was surprised to see that I’d only made two small holes on his skin.

  I stood up. I didn’t dare look at the girl again. Her blond hair was knotted and unwashed, but her blue eyes were as clear as the sky. The blue sky that I realized I would never see again.

  I pulled my mask down and ran without a thought, without worrying that I was making noise and waking the other man up. Another bullet would be the worst possible fate for me. I had blood in my system now, and when I ran out of the building, I felt strong again. Invincible again. But I knew that I wasn’t.

  I looked up at the dark night sky. Starless, moonless. Just…dead. I would never see it become orange, or blue, or gray again. I wanted to scream. I had been so caught up in my abilities that I’d completely neglected to think about what Dublin’s words really meant.

  We can’t stay awake during the day.

  I was as good as dead. Only dead people never saw light. And what about my mama? And my sisters? How would I live knowing they weren’t there anymore? My fists were closed so tightly that I feared for a second I might break my own bones. A growl, unlike anything I’d ever heard from anyone before, came from my own throat.

  Why the hell had Ray done this to me? Why had he cursed me like this? I looked up at the sky again and wanted to scream at it with all I had, and ask it why. I never did.

  “You do not want to do that,” a voice said from my side.

  It was so unexpected that I jumped a few feet to the other side. The voice was that of a woman. I looked, but I saw nothing.

  A moment passed in silence. Not even the
wind moved.

  “Up here,” the voice said again.

  She had been right there, in front of me, just two floors up, and I hadn’t seen anything. I realized then how stupid I’d been to think, even for a second, that I was invincible. I was but a kid in a world of Gods. I had no chance at all.

  The women jumped from the window of the building and landed about ten feet away from me. Maybe it hadn’t been entirely out of carelessness that I hadn’t seen her—she was black. Her skin was black, her hair was black, and her clothes were black, save for the top that looked to have been made of bear fur. She was shorter than me and her hair fell to her hips, and she was beautiful in a deadly kind of way.

  My mouth opened but I couldn’t speak.

  “I don’t know where your Doyen lost you, but you do not scream like a baby out here in the open. Or anywhere, for that matter,” she said.

  “I didn’t—”

  “Yes, you did. It has been a while since I tracked someone so easily. You screamed like you’d been eaten by silver.” She grinned, and not prettily.

  “I was, actually. I had a silver bullet in me,” I said for whatever reason, but she only laughed.

  “Stupid little newbie,” she said, tsk-ing at me while she shook her head.

  It was so weird that a black person could speak to me that way. From where I came from, black people were slaves. It wasn’t like I was much better, but slaves did not talk back to others. Ever. So I was stunned for a second.

  And then I turned on my heels and began to run. I had no time for chats. I didn’t fear the woman—not at all. She was a woman, and my strength was…

  The thought got cut in my head the same second I found myself with my back against the wall, and the woman in front of me, her hands and legs on mine, blocking me from every single movement.

  Surprised, I pushed back, with ease at first. She didn’t move. I tried again, harder, then again much harder, and still I felt like I was pushing a mountain. She didn’t even blink.

  “Keep quiet,” she whispered. In fact, she only moved her lips yet I heard her very clearly. There was nothing I could do against her, and for a second, embarrassment filled me. I couldn’t move because of a woman.

  I was about to try and push again, this time with all the strength I had, when I heard it. I heard the sound of footsteps that seemed far away, yet I heard them as if they were walking right by. I never seemed to feel less surprised by these abilities.

  “Three, five…six,” the woman whispered.

  “Wha—”

  “Shshsh…!” she hissed. I kept my mouth shut.

  She held me there for long minutes, until the steps got closer, and closer, and then far away. When we heard nothing anymore, nothing at all, that’s when she let go of me.

  “What’s up with the mask?” she asked, just like that, like nothing at all had happened.

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked instead.

  “The name’s Bugz,” she said. “You?”

  For a second, I froze. Was I supposed to tell her my name?

  It didn’t feel like I was, and since her name was Bugz, nothing I said could possibly seem out of the ordinary for her.

  “Mask,” I said. It was the only thing that came to mind.

  “Original.” She grinned. “So, where’s your Doyen?”

  “I don’t know,” I said impatiently, “and I need to go.” I turned around to leave, half expecting her to grab me and block me again. She didn’t.

  “Thanks for saving my life, Mask,” she called after me sarcastically. It felt like a call because we were so far away from each other already, but she really just spoke, and with a low voice at that. I still heard her.

  “You call that saving my life?”

  “Oh, trust me, newbie. You do not want to get acquainted with the bunch that just passed us. I saved your life,” she said.

  I said nothing. I only ran.

  X

  Chicago. It took me three days to get there. I passed others like me, but no human. I was starving. I was going nuts with the craving. Still, I couldn’t run headlong like I used to. Not after the bullet, or after Bugz.

  I couldn’t afford to be spotted. I chose my shelters with care, more afraid to be found by humans than vampires. After all, those like me were dead during the day, just like I was. So I chose places that no human could go through—a broken building I could jump on top of because there was no way to get there through the entrance or under piles of rocks that looked innocent to the naked eye but provided darkness same as concrete walls. Places like that.

  Chicago was much better than Pennsylvania, at least. Less damaged buildings and less damaged metal things with colors on the streets. Paved streets, same as Pennsylvania. Life must have been so easy to walk around on streets like this, and judging by the rubber wheels on the metal things, like those of horse carriages back home, I’d say they were used for transportation as well, though I didn’t have any idea how.

  I spent the night in a small, windowless room where all kinds of things I didn’t know how to name were thrown and rotten. The smell was bad in the beginning, but I got used to it. At the end, when unconsciousness took me, it didn’t matter what it smelled like.

  The next night, I was ready to be on my way as soon as I woke up. Ready, but practically starving. I strained my ears to search for a beating heart. There was none. My bottle of gin was long gone. Hope was slipping from my fingers fast.

  What happened to a vampire if they didn’t drink blood for long enough? I didn’t dare wonder too long about it. I’m fine, I thought. Look at the world I had woken up in. There was still so much to explore. So much more to learn, and I was going to be fine if I just kept running.

  I opened the door and took a single step outside of the room, when I heard movement behind me. Or was it below? I froze in place, my hand still on the broken doorknob. I listened. That was what Bugz had done, wasn’t it? She’d frozen, and she’d listened until the danger had passed. I needed to do the same.

  It was easy to pretend to be a piece of wood, or rock, when your heart didn’t beat and you didn’t need to breath. So that’s what I did. I pretended to be one with the wall at my side.

  There were others, definitely below me. They had no heartbeats, so they were vampires, too. I was going to run out of there, and as far as I could, but then, I heard a noise. Glass shattering.

  The gin bottle Dublin had given me had made the exact same sound when I’d thrown it against a wall somewhere in Pennsylvania. My memory was that good.

  Gin. Whoever was down there, had gin. And they were laughing.

  I very slowly turned around and walked back into the room, wondering what the best way to get to them was. Alcohol would be my salvation now, especially after going so long without blood. I needed it. And if I was careful, I could maybe steal a bottle.

  I followed the voices deeper and deeper into the building until I could clearly make out their words.

  “We should just get rid of her, that slut,” one was saying.

  “You want Mohg to go ninja on your ass?” another asked.

  “They say she’s his puppet now,” a third person said. I had no idea how many there were.

  “Don’t kid yourself, pretty boy. We’re all his puppets,” the second guy said.

  “Get me that wine, will ya? That white one,” the first guy said.

  Wine. I shuddered.

  “Get it yourself, Jordy,” a woman said next. How many were there?

  “C’mon, Dove, just reach out your—”

  “For fuck’s sake, get your own poison!” a man shouted. “I’m sick and tired of all you fuckers.”

  “I wish I felt differently,” the woman hissed. “Why the fuck did Mohg send us all for that fucker?”

  “I’ve heard stories about him,” a man said.

  “We all have. He’s rogue. Always has been. Why the hell does Mohg need him?” I wondered who Mohg was. He seemed like a guy who could give me answers.

 
“Intel, obviously. They say he knows these parts better than anyone. Alive, at least.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if he was the King of England. I’m sick and tired of running after him,” the woman said.

  “Then let’s make this night count. I’m going, too,” a man said.

  “Fuck, yeah,” the woman whispered.

  “It’s not fair, you know,” One—maybe Jordy—said.

  “Nothing is, babe,” the woman called. And her voice felt closer. Oh, shit, they were coming out.

  I reached for the door I’d used to get in, and stopped. If I went through it, I wouldn’t see where they went. I needed to see them in order to make a plan. So I turned to another door, the next one I found, and opened it without thought.

  Shitty choice. The room was a very large space with nothing in it but broken walls and dirt. There would be nowhere to hide there. I still ran to the other side next to a window, and sat down. I froze, just like Bugz had done.

  I was all ears, listening to the steps of four people, trying to determine where they were coming from when a smell reached my nose and panic enveloped me. I remembered something Dublin said when I first saw him. He asked me why I smelled like a newborn. I smelled. And I realized the scent I could smell was actually four different scents. Each for a vampire. I could smell them. And they could smell me.

  I heard the second they all froze. I could practically see them turning to look around for me. Some kind of an instinct I never knew I had took over, and the next second, I found myself jumping through the window as broken glass shards pierced my hands.

  I landed outside on the street. Two huge buildings were in front of me. The vampires were right behind.

  If I ran left or right, they would catch me. So I jumped up without looking, and landed on a balcony on the second floor of the building closest to me. Second floor was good, I guessed. Bugz had been hiding on the first when I met her. I broke another window and hopped inside. I ran straight to the other side, and to another window. I broke that, too. Thank God for the mask or my face would’ve been torn many times, like my hands were. But they healed so quickly that I barely noticed in my panic.