Heartbeat (Morta Fox Book 1)

by D. N. Hoxa

  “Dublin and I go way back. I’ve helped him, and he helped me many times,” he said.

  “I don’t want to tell you would’ve been much better,” I mumbled. That only made him laugh.

  “I did tell you,” he said. We were on the rooftop of a four-story building with both the first and second floors completely burnt and the third and fourth completely emptied out. There were three big, deformed rats that I could see so we decided to sit outside for a while and wait for Bugz before we found a place for the day. The sky looked amazing. I felt like the grey and black clouds were doing me a favor with the holes in them, enabling me to see stars—just a few—every now and then.

  “Come here,” Hammer said. He sat at the corner of the rooftop, resting his back on the brown bricks. I didn’t comment. I just went and sat next to him. When he put his arm around my shoulder, the very moment I should’ve yelled at him, I leaned silently against his chest. I’d tried that place before, and there was no other like it in what was left of the world.

  “We’ll be fine,” he whispered against my hair. I didn’t agree. I just didn’t tell him that.

  “We’re going to Brazil,” I said instead.

  “Looks like it.”

  “I never really thought about going to Brazil, but I always wanted to go to Europe.”

  I remembered the books I’d read, the pictures I’d seen of places in Europe. Italy, France, England. Paris was my favorite. I even had a picture of the cobblestone street in my drawer until I was a teenager. It had those pretty lamps and benches to the sides, green grass all over, bright blue, cloudless skies, humans happy and smiling, dressed impeccably.

  “We’ll go there, too, some day.”

  “What’s it like there?”

  “I can tell you it was better before the explosion,” Hammer said.

  “Have you ever been to France?”

  “I’ve been to every country out there,” he said.

  I could almost see him there, walking around the streets while the ladies fell to their knees for him. The thought brought a smile to my face.

  “Tell me about Paris.”

  “One of the most beautiful cities to have ever existed. Of course, it would’ve been more beautiful if it weren’t for the Frenchmen. And that awful language,” he said, frowning.

  “I’ve never heard anyone speak in French.” I’d wanted to after the first time I read some words in school. The teacher said them, but it always felt like she said them wrong. Like they weren’t exactly it.

  “Puisquej'aimis ma lèvre à ta coupe encore pleine,De ton âme, parfumdansl'ombreenseveli,Je puismaintenant dire aux rapidesannées:Passez! passeztoujours! jen'ai plus à vieillir,” Hammer said, and my jaw fell to the floor. “A part of one of my favorite poems by Victor Hugo.”

  “That was beautiful!” I said, so surprised and so inspired by words I didn’t know the meaning of that it felt incredible to me to know such language was spoken regularly at a time. When he smiled down at me, I knew I’d never see anything more beautiful in my life. And it felt like the words he spoke somehow described the image in front of me, in detail.

  “I wish I could see the way it was back then,” I said and rested my head on his chest again. It felt a bit odd since his heart wasn’t beating, but he gave me warmth, though his body was cold.

  “I’ll take you. I’ll show you all the places that haven’t been destroyed by the explosions. You’d be surprised how much unbroken stuff there is in those streets,” he said. I felt so very excited, though I knew that it was never going to happen. I would be dead before Paris could have me stepping on its streets. But the feeling he gave me was much stronger than the knowledge. The illusion much more powerful than the reality. So I took his word for it.

  “There was this bar called Shining Star right at the corner of Tresor and Vieille de Temple. It served the best homemade vodka I ever drank. The owner there, Monsieur Dubois, he knew I wasn’t normal. He knew there was something off about me, and yet he never asked. For thirty years, I watched him grow old, and for thirty years he brought me a bottle of his finest vodka every time I went to his bar. He always asked me one simple question before he left me alone for the night. He was one of the very few humans I respected and loved as if they were my own,” Hammer said.

  “What was it?” I asked.

  “What was what?”

  “The question? What did he ask you?” I wanted to know. It was like that was the key to the whole story.

  “L'avez-voustrouvé encore?” he whispered, and it felt like I was a second from capturing the meaning of the words.

  “What? What does that mean?” Apparently my wanting with all my being to understand didn’t result in my actual understanding.

  “Bugz’s here,” he said instead. For a second, I thought he gave me the translation to his French words, but then I heard steps. Four seconds and there she was, with the long braid and all. She couldn’t have arrived at a worse time.

  “Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here,” she said and sat across from us. I was going to sit up, but Hammer only tightened his grip around my shoulder, and he laughed at Bugz’s comment, so I stayed. I liked it there.

  “Took you long enough,” Hammer said.

  “I did a full circle around the island. It’s clear. No vamps around there,” she said, but we already knew that. Apparently, Dublin was so good, he finished a month’s job in two weeks.

  “We’re heading to Brazil tomorrow night,” Hammer told her.

  “Brazil…so much more fun when it lived,” Bugz murmured.

  “I’ll need you to do one last check before we take off,” Hammer said.

  “I’m coming with you,” Bugz said.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Of course I am. I’m not going to leave you in the hands of Death. Literally,” she said with a grin.

  “Suck it, little bug,” I said and flipped her off, but I was laughing, too. Just a little.

  “You don’t have to, man,” Hammer said. I liked that he thought of her as a dude. I liked that for no reason.

  “I know. I want to. I don’t like this. Whatever this is,” she said, shaking her head and standing back up to look down around us. “What did Dublin say?”

  “Everard’s in Brazil, and so is Chandra. They’re after this chemical element—CFPH, the one we read about in the files Morta got. That’s what Everard was after when he was captured. And the fact that he escaped tells us he found it and sent it back to the South. We don’t know the why, but I’m hoping to find out once we get there,” Hammer said. And I though, yeah, when we get there. Find my Lord. Have me killed.

  “What the hell would a bunch of vamps want with chemical elements? Are they so bored that they’re playing scientist now?” Bugz said.

  “No, Dublin said it wasn’t good. I still haven’t come up with what, though.”

  “Hey, what was it that you came up with when Dublin gave you the name of that thing?” I asked. I had seen the look on his face.

  “Well…since you want to know, a similar combination of elements was used in almost all the bombs that exploded twenty years ago,” Hammer said reluctantly. This time I leaned away from his shoulder.

  “How sure are you?” I asked.

  “Pretty sure. 99.9 percent sure,” he said, avoiding my eyes.

  “Wait…are you saying that vampires are making a bomb?”

  Hello! That didn’t make any sense! Hammer said that they knew the world, and the humans wouldn’t stand another explosion. Were they stupid?

  “I don’t think so, no. They need a hell of a lot more to build even one bomb big enough for Manhattan or the others.”

  He said it. I took his word for it immediately and dropped back against his shoulder with a sigh of relief. Sure, I wasn’t going to live for much longer, but I didn’t want the world to end. I secretly dreamed of it being what it was again, before the explosions. I mean, they did it the first time, right? They could build everything up again. Of course, the wea
ther being what it was, a constant, non-changing temperature and no season whatsoever, and with the waters and earthquakes going crazy all around, it wasn’t going to be exactly the same, but they still had the chance.

  “So what, then? If not to build a bomb, what the hell do they need CFPH for?” Bugz asked the question I didn’t want to ask. Because as long as it wasn’t for the bomb, I didn’t care for what else they were using the damned thing.

  “Can’t say. It still doesn’t make sense, but it will, once we get there,” Hammer said, not so happy about it. But I was happy. As happy as I could be, completely trusting his words, though I knew there was a fifty–fifty chance that he was wrong, and they were, in fact, making a bomb.

  “I’m going to get bourbon. See you tomorrow,” Bugz said and made for the door.

  “Aren’t you going to stay here?” Hammer asked.

  “No, thanks,” Bugz said and looked at me, at him, and then back at me as if she wanted to say something with her eyes. Something I understood but it felt like too much effort to sit upright and away from Hammer’s arm when I knew that the second she disappeared, I would lean right back against him. So I didn’t move.

  “Sleep tight,” she called once she was outside.

  Another two hours to sunrise, so we had a little more time before we had to find shelter. I liked it up there, sitting right under the open sky.

  “They think we’re mates, and we’re keeping it a secret,” Hammer said. Blood wanted to get to my cheeks, but I was too cold so it didn’t make it. I knew who they were. Dublin and Bugz.

  “Probably because you keep saying things like ‘I trust her’ and ‘I won't let her out of my sight’ and ‘let her go.’ They have no idea that you’re going to kill me as soon as we find my Lord.”

  A shiver ran down his torso, which I felt clearly since I was pressed to him. I should’ve asked him right then what was wrong, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

  “No, it’s because you yell at me and defy me in front of everyone, and I don’t kill you right on the spot,” he said but with no hint of amusement.

  I knew I wasn’t supposed to yell at him like that. I realized I knew him differently from the way others did. Some feared him, most wanted to kill him. I was under his care. Big difference there but my mouth was something else.

  “Dude, I yelled at my mom, like all the time. If you knew her, you’d know that after that, nothing scares me anymore,” I lied but only to brighten the mood a little.

  “I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he said.

  “I know.” I surprised us both by saying that. “I’m not.” It was supposed to come off as a tease, but it didn’t. It came out as a simple statement. “I never said thank you.”

  Last time I wanted to, Bugz interrupted me. And here we were, the silence and the sky making the perfect opportunity to finally say the words.

  “You never did,” he confirmed with a sad smile.

  I wanted to. I just wanted to say thank you for all the times he saved my life, all the times he put me to sleep, all the times he told me that everything was going to be all right. I wanted to think of those things, not the one thing that tainted everything I wanted to be true, so badly.

  “You’re a monster. And I’m worse,” I said instead. The thought had too tight a hold on my mind. It wasn’t something I could forget.

  “The day you realize that that’s not true is the day you will finally be free,” he whispered against my hair. “You’re not a monster, Morta.”

  “I drink people dry.” If he couldn’t see that, then he was a blind man.

  “You survive. Is a lion a monster for eating a coyote? Is an eagle a monster for eating a rat?”

  That was different. Lions and eagles didn’t speak. Didn’t think. Didn’t act based on rationality. That was a gift solely for humans. And vampires. But I didn’t answer.

  “Have you ever been in love, Morta?” Hammer asked. If he had known how loveless my whole life was, he wouldn’t have asked. Or he would’ve…I wasn’t sure.

  “No,” I said reluctantly. “You? I mean, I know you love Chandra, but I mean like when you were still human.”

  “Actually, I’ve never been in love. Not like I’ve seen people be through the years,” he said. “What I wanted to say is that, I’ve seen people lie for love, cheat for love, kill for love. A man who kills another for the love of a woman, for her honor, or for her life, he can never be a monster.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  He laughed. “Not really. I hope you realize that soon.”

  He kept saying things like this over and over again. I’ll take you to Paris. The day you realize that you’re not a monster, you’ll be free. I hope you realize that a man killing for love is not a monster. All of this, like I was going to see those days. Live those days. As if he forgot that I was going to die by his hand.

  “You’ve lived for three hundred years, and you’ve never been in love?” I asked him instead.

  “I have loved. I’ve loved many women throughout the years, but I never experienced the kind of love that turns normal people into artists of words, paintings, melodies. I’ve seen it happen countless times, but it never happened to me.”

  “They say it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world.”

  “It is. Once you see it, you live your whole life searching for it. Living to be both blessed and cursed by it.”

  “You’ll find it. I know you will.”

  I did know it, because he deserved to, if not for anything else than simply for what he did for me. Small things. Things that meant the world to me. A world that can only be given with a simple word and a simple kiss.

  A while later, and I felt my eyelids starting to grow heavy. The sun was minutes from rising.

  “We should get going,” I said against his shirt but only curled myself tighter against him. I felt his other hand wrap around me, and I thought again of how great it felt to be held by him. I was going to miss his embrace when I died.

  “Let’s just stay for a bit longer,” he said and kissed my hair. I looked up at him, eyes half closed.

  “The sun is going to come up any minute now.” I didn’t want him to get burned again.

  “I’ll keep you safe. You’ll be fine, trust me,” he whispered with a smile, and pushed my white hair from my face in a caress.

  “I trust you,” I mumbled, and I tried my best to give him my brightest smile before I rested on his chest again and willingly let unconsciousness claim me.

  XIX

  “Hammer!” I yelled with all the voice I could muster. I was burning with rage and my teeth had already started to grow sharp. How dare he?

  I heard him speak from the room right next to the one he’d put me to sleep in. Naked from the waist down. Well, I still had my panties on. But, how dare he?!

  “You better stay away from this one,” he said to Bugz.

  “I’m going to kill you!” I shouted again.

  “Okay…here we go,” he said and knocked on the door. I was trying my best not to go and kick it together with Hammer. When he opened the door, I wished I had something to throw at his face, but I had nothing with me. Nothing, except for my dirty shirt and my hoodie, and my grey underwear, in which he left me last night. While I was unconscious.

  “I-I-I…how dare you?”

  “I can explain. You need to calm down—” he said with his arms raised, and he took small steps towards me.

  “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! You undressed me! While I wasn’t conscious! You took advantage of me…”

  “I didn’t take advantage of you, Morta. I wouldn’t do that…”

  “Of course you would! Why wouldn’t you? You asked me to be your sex toy the day I met you!”

  He might’ve thought that I’d forgotten, but I remembered. Unfortunately for me, the reminder didn’t have the effect that I desired. Instead, he almost doubled over from laughter.

  “That’s because I didn’t know you back then. I swear, there’s a ver
y reasonable explanation for this,” he said.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was going out of my mind, and he was laughing at me.

  “I’m going to kill you,” I said again, but he didn’t care. He threw something at me instead. I caught it and saw a pair of almost-brand-new-looking pants. Black with grey lines here and there. They even looked like they were exactly my size.

  “I found you those, because the ones you had on last night got wet. After you fell unconscious, my vodka spilled all over your thighs, and I couldn’t let you spend the night like that,” he said, coming a little closer.

  “Like I believe that,” I spit as I pulled on the pants, because standing there half naked in front of him was killing me with embarrassment. And they fit me perfectly, like they were made for me.

  “You shouldn’t have put them on…” he said, and I jumped in front of his face with my index finger against his chest.

  “I will not tell you again—” I hissed, but he cut me off.

  “Shower. I brought water for a shower. You should wash yourself first, and then put them on. They’re clean. I got you a blouse, too. No shoes, though,” he said, smiling almost in wonder as he watched me.

  “Oh,” I whispered and took a step back. A shower. I hadn’t taken one since the last time we were at Hammer’s place. “Well, why didn’t you say that in the beginning?” I said and walked around him to go find the bathroom.

  “I said so. I told you there was a reasonable explanation—”

  “No, you didn’t. You didn’t even mention shower.”

  “I did say that I could explain it, but you and your head—”

  “My head is just fine, thank you.”

  “…you won’t listen if your life depended on it—”

  “I did listen to every word you said—”

  “…you can't even appreciate a good thought—”

  “I do appreciate a good thought.”

  “Goddamn it, will you just shut that mouth, and listen for once in your life without talking the same time that I do?!” he shouted, stopping me with both his hands on my shoulders.

  “I don’t talk the same time you do.”

  I did talk the same time he did, but I wasn’t going to make his day by admitting it. He undressed me without my permission! He saw me in my underwear! No one ever saw me like that, and I’d wanted to keep it that way.