Vampz Macabre

by N. R. Larry

  Vampz Macabre

  Malcolm Hex Book One

  N.R. Larry

  Vampz Macabre © N.R. Larry

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Cover art by Rebecca Frank: https://www.facebook.com/groups/bewitchingbookcovers/

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Vampz Macabre: Malcolm Hex Book One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About the Author

  Putting the URBAN in urban fantasy...

  No vamp is crazy enough to hunt in The Heights. After all, it’s under the protection of Malcolm Hex, known for taking down not only vampires, but every other supernatural creature that threatens the neighborhood.

  So, when a blood-drinker goes after one of her foster kids in their own home, Mal knows there must be something new about these vamps. Something dangerous. She’s right. They are jiangshi, Chinese vampires, and they just might be powerful enough to take Mal out for good.

  Not only that, Bao, the vampire child in her care, starts changing with these new attacks, and it’s no coincidence—Mal learns that these new vamps will stop at nothing until Bao goes with them.

  Mal isn’t having that. No one messes with her kids.

  And no one messes with Malcolm Hex.

  Dedication

  For my Evershade ladies, because you started an imprint for people of color. That rocks. And for Erin, the crazy hot idea girl. This was a great one, I hope I’ve done it justice.

  Chapter One

  My eyelids were heavy because I’d been on the hunt for almost twenty-four hours. I slid my golden dagger into its wrist holster and trudged up the stairs of my two-story home in The Heights. My mother buzzed happily inside the metal of my hunting blade, sending a warm wave of magic up my arm. I let out a yawn and smiled. “Two shifters and a ghoul,” I told her as I headed down the hall to my room. “Not a bad hunt.” The metal buzzed in agreement.

  Anyone that knew me had seen me talking to my dagger at some point. It got me a lot of crazy looks. Not everyone could say that their mother’s soul was trapped in their knife because of a decade old curse and the only way to free or hear her voice for that matter, was to send evil supernaturals back to their makers. Inside that metal, she warned me when monsters were near, and because of her, I was one of the best hunters in the world.

  With another yawn, I started to open the door to my bedroom, thankful as hell that for once, all was quiet. I had a house full of foster kids that also happened to be supernatural, so quiet wasn’t a luxury I often got to enjoy. I was about to flop down, fully clothed onto my bed, when movement whispered from down the hallway.

  I grabbed my dagger and was about to turn around when a pair of strong arms grabbed me from behind. “Chill, out Malcolm,” Ryland whispered into my ear, his hand clamped down on my mouth.

  I almost bit into his hand. He knew I hated being called Malcolm. It was a nickname my late foster mother had given me, and because of the respect she had in the hood, it was a name I’d let stick. She named me Malcolm because she was all about black-power, a real bad ass back in the day, and because my last name is Hex.

  Ha, ha.

  Everyone still gets a real kick out of it.

  “There was a vamp down at Blood N’ Fangs,” he hissed into my ear. “I’ve been tracking the fucker. He’s fast. One of my people spotted him near the house. You run into anything around here tonight?”

  I tried to ignore the shiver his deep, throaty voice sent up my spine. After all, he was a damn vamp. It didn’t’ matter that he had all the qualities that made me tingle: dark skin, a hood attitude, and a soft spot for kids—I didn’t fuck the undead.

  At least, not anymore.

  I twisted out of his grip and turned around. Damn. He was dressed to get on my nerves in a silver, three-piece, American gangster styled suit. His coat was open, and his tie was loose around his neck. I tried not to lick my lips. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Who the hell would be stupid to come sniffing around my damn house.”

  He swiped a hand across his bald head, and the dim light from my lamp glinted off the silver ring he always wore. It was a gift to him from the people of The Heights, for protecting them. A symbol of his undead status. “You sure you haven’t seen anything?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been down in the Narrows, hunting. And besides—”

  His eyes widened, and he turned his head, obviously listening for something. I heard it too. Movement. Down the hall. In my house. My heart pounded in my ears.

  “The girls,” I muttered, but he was already gone.

  I took hold of my knife. Mom’s voice pounded in my ear. “I know. Don’t worry, Mom. No one is going to hurt my girls,” I hissed, taking off down the hall after Ryland. I didn’t make it far.

  Something darted across my vision, then leapt to the ceiling and scattered in the other direction. Ryland zipped past me, chasing down whatever it was. I was about to take off after them, when someone cried out from down the hall.

  I rushed into the girl’s room. “Bao?” I switched on the light. “Fiona?” My ten-year-old popped up on the bottom bunk and shot me a dirty look. Then, she pulled her blanket back over her head, turned over onto her stomach, and muttered something I couldn’t make out. “Go back to sleep,” I whispered when I saw that they were okay.

  I stepped back out in the hall and perked my ears. Something crashed to the ground in the backyard. Tightening the hold on my knife, I rushed down the stairs, through the dirty kitchen, and out the back door. Ryland had something pinned up against the old shed I had next to the basketball goal. He growled, and then slammed the figure into the old wood hard enough to take the door of its hinges.

  “The hell were you doing lurking around this house?” he snarled.

  I side-stepped so that I could get eyes on him. My fingers tingled. I sniffed the air. Mom whispered something in my ear. I nodded. “It’s a vampire alright.”

  At my words, the thing hissed into Ryland’s face and bit down onto something, hard.

  “What the hell?” Ryland took one hand off him and tried to pry his mouth open. It was too late. The vampire had swallowed whatever was in his mouth. Convulsing in Ryland’s grasp, his pale skin bubbled up, and his lips oozed into the bottom of his face. “Oh, hell no.” Ryland let go, then stepped back. The vampire crumbled onto the cracked pavement.

  My stomach lurched. Ryland stood there, dabbing
blood off the front of his suit with a silk napkin. I started to roll my eyes at him when something rustled at the side of the house. I darted my gaze toward the noise. Darnell, my eight-year old, stepped around the corner dressed in baggy black sweatpants and a white wife beater.

  “Ay, ya’ll.” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a dead nigga over here in the trash can.”

  I lifted an eyebrow in his direction and was about to cuss his ass out when Ryland scoffed, scanning Darnell up and down. “Boy, what the hell you are you wearing?”

  I found my words. “And why are you out of bed?” I glanced at my watch. “You have school in the morning.”

  Ignoring me, Darnell smoothed down the silk wrap covering his cornrows. “Man, don’t hate on my clothes.”

  “Clothes?” Ryland laughed. “Man, you look like you should be on the side of the road asking for change.”

  Darnell’s dark eyes widened. “Is that another dead body behind you?”

  I stepped in front of the vampire that just took himself out and crossed my arms over my chest. “Answer the question.”

  He sighed and threw his hands into the air. “I was just helping Jay out with something.”

  “Boy, get your ass in the house. And don’t ever be out after dark like this again. I’m tired of telling you not to be in these streets dressed like a damn hoodlum.”

  Darnell waved him off. “You can’t tell me what to wear, man.”

  Ryland’s eyes flashed, and even though it was dark outside, the blood red in his irises was bright enough to catch the light of the streetlamps. “Tell you what, if you can beat my ass, you can keep dressing like a little hood rat.” He gave Darnell a crooked smile, vampire fangs extended. “Until then, get your werewolf ass in bed and I’ll be over in the morning to make sure your little black ass is in a suit and tie.” He inched toward him. “Cops out here killing little boys like you, boys that think they’re men. And I’ll be damned if you give them any reason to gun you down while I’m still alive. You feel me?”

  Part of me wanted to tell him that I could handle my kids on my own, but another, larger part of me was swooning. Darnell stared Ryland down, or at least, he tried to. His fingernails, which had started to extend, as they often did when he was mad, went back to their original length. Finally, he nodded his head.

  “Alright, little man.” Ryland inched toward him and they pounded fists.

  I opened my arms and Darnell nodded. I tried not to laugh as he gave me a hug. I ruffled his hair and then waved him toward the house. “I don’t want you out of bed again tonight.”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  When he was inside the house, I swiped my hands down my face. “Great, two dead bodies. I just wanted to come home and go to sleep.”

  He scanned me up and down in the quiet manner he had that always made me feel undressed. “I’ll take care of this. Leave the other body till the morning.”

  I had to laugh at that. “It’s a dead body, not a sink full of dishes.”

  “Yeah, this is also The Heights. Bodies show up all the time. Get some rest, I’ll be back over in the morning.”

  Closing my hands into fists, I forced myself to focus. Dead body in the garbage trumped being tired. After I waved him off, I crept around to the side of the house. Ryland fell in step next to me. After lifting the lid, I sighed.

  “Well, he was right,” Ryland muttered. “There is a dead nigga in your trash can.”

  I peered into the older features of the man sticking out of my garbage can. “He looks familiar, huh?”

  Ryland peered closer and then stepped back. “Damn, man. It’s Ronnie.”

  I frowned. “That guy that’s always selling that paper from the eighties?”

  “Worst con man in The Heights,” he confirmed. “Damn, he was cool though.”

  I scowled. “What vampire is this stupid?” I examined him closer and noticed the puncture marks on his neck had hardened. “That’s weird. Vamp wounds don’t usually look like that.”

  “This is some other shit we’re dealing with.” Gently, Ryland pushed me to the side. “I got this. Take your fine ass to bed.”

  I started to argue with him when he grabbed Ronnie by the neck and he shattered into pieces, leaving hardened slabs of flesh all down the front of Ryland’s suit. He growled and tossed Ronnie’s head back into the garbage. “Man, hell nah.”

  I covered my mouth to hide a grin.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?” His mouth twitched slightly, which was about as close as Ryland got to smiling.

  Exhaustion was making me delirious, because the fact that I was standing outside of my house stepping in the bits of an old con man with the vampire who happened to be my oldest friend, and sometimes, flame suddenly seemed ridiculous. I started laughing, and then, I couldn’t stop.

  Ryland raised a brow. “Yeah, you need to get some sleep.”

  I nodded, and then started snorting, trying to stop laughing. Ignoring me, he zipped away and returned with a garbage bag. Within seconds, he had poor Ronnie inside the bag. Without asking, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder.

  My head bobbed up and down as he took me up the stairs. “Pst, Ry.”

  “What’s that, Mal?” He took me off his shoulder and placed me gently on the bed. I stared up at him. The gesture was so gentle, but hard lines still dominated his face. As long as I had known him, he always looked severe, but he had to be, what with being an undead black man in America.

  “There’s a dead guy jigsaw puzzle in the trash,” I whispered and then giggled.

  He backed away to the door and shook his head slightly. “I’ll be back in the morning. We’ll get this shit figured out.”

  I nodded, but my eyelids were already closing. He muttered something else that sounded like gibberish in my ears because I was already falling asleep.

  SOMETHING THAT FELT like sand tickled my eyelids. I twitched under my covers and swatted at my face. From above me, there was a girlish giggle. The noise in my cramped house swept over me. I blinked up at Fiona, who was floating over me with an apple in her pale hand. Before I could ask her what she was doing, a crash echoed from downstairs in the kitchen.

  Fiona’s bright green gaze cut to her left. She floated farther into the air, and then her dark, hunter green wings contracted, and she landed on her feet. “Fiona!” Darnell’s voice cracked, making me cringe. “The orange drank spilled!”

  Fiona parked her hands on her hips, and her eyes turned from emerald to jet, as they often did when she was annoyed. “Well, get something and clean it up!” she shouted.

  With a groan, I sat up. “Too much noise.”

  “We out of paper towels!” Darnell shouted back.

  I was about to start yelling when a set of feet came thundering up the stairs. This house really was too small for five damn kids—especially when all of them were supernatural.

  “Aye, Mal,” Amir said to me on his way down the hall. “Baobao won’t come out of the bathroom.”

  “Yeah, and Sergio took the car,” Fiona informed me, just as Darnell came storming into my room with a pout pulling at his lips.

  “Fi! The damn juice—”

  I held my hand up. “Language, Darnell.”

  Fiona grinned and held her hand out. With a snarl, Darnell slapped a one-dollar bill into her palm. “I’ll just put that in the jar for the utility bill.” Her laughter was like silver bells. “You’ve practically paid it yourself this month.” He was about to argue, when she hit him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you how to handle a mess even if you’re out of paper towels.”

  I sighed, blinked the sleep out of my eyes, and stared up at the ceiling. There was something important I needed to do, but my mind was too full of the early morning din to remember. Just then, Amir poked his head back into my room. “I’ll walk the kids to school,” he offered. “But you really need to talk to Serg. That was a pretty dick move.”

  I nodded and yawned.

  �
��You look like shit,” Amir added with a grin. Anytime he smiled it took something away from the natural harshness of his features and made him look his actual sixteen years, the rest of the time he looked closer to the twenty-seven years I pretended to be.

  I narrowed my eyes at him as I stood up. “I have to pack lunches.”

  He shook his head. “Fiona already handled it. I have money for lunch. But... you do need to check on Bao.”

  With a laugh, I said, “Saint Fiona. What would I do without her?”

  Amir placed his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. I really needed to take them all shopping... Again. They seemed to grow faster than I could put clothes on their back. “I can’t pick them up.”

  With a nod, I sat up and headed down the hall. “I’ll call Sergei.”

  “Uh—Bao?” he reminded me. Bao was my preteen vampire, and lately, a constant source of drama.

  I paused and pointed at him. “Right.” Waving him off, I said, “Get going before you’re late. And make sure Darnell actually goes into the school.” I sighed. “If he misses any more days—”

  “I got it.”

  “Thanks, Amir,” I called before trudging down the hall and pounding on the bathroom door. Of course, I got no answer. Vampire teens were no different than regular teens—they were moody as fuck. I knocked again, only this time, louder. “Bao... What’s going on in there?”

  There was a low squeal, and then the shower started running. I narrowed my eyes. Seconds later, loud music started vibrating the door. Some chick started shouting the melody in a language I couldn’t understand. I winced. It was Bao’s favorite band. Apparently, she thought screaming was the same thing as singing.

  With a sigh, I banged on the door again. “B! Ain’t nobody got time for this crap! Get your butt out here and get to school!”

  The music cranked up louder. I narrowed my eyes at the door. “Damnit,” I muttered to myself. “I’m really tired of removing parts of this house.” After forcing myself to count to ten, patience, after all, was a virtue or some shit, I finally removed the door as gently as I could.