Heartbeat (Morta Fox Book 1)

by D. N. Hoxa

  He could have left me there to die. Carrying me slowed him down, and he got burned from the first sunrays.

  “I’m fine,” he hissed and stood up.

  “I-I-I…I don’t know what to say.”

  He laughed dryly, shaking his head. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say so far,” he said. “And you don’t have to say anything.”

  “Well, the fact that you just said that tells me that I do need to say something.” Something like sorry or thank you.

  He looked at me, confusion marring his cool features. There was no warmth in his eyes. He just looked disappointed. “The fact that you think that tells me you’re nowhere near understanding this any more than I am.”

  X

  I would’ve run the next night I woke up in the same, soft bed, but Jordy and Tick were a constant whisper in my ear. Hammer was right. I was a coward, the worst kind of coward. The only problem was that I feared life, not death.

  The night before, Hammer hid in his basement until the sun came up. He must’ve carried me again because I slept on the sofa. The thick drapes the color of mud were drawn so I figured no sun would get in.

  The thirst was growing stronger every second. I hadn’t fed in five nights, but I still liked to think that it was manageable. As long as I had my whiskey with me, at least.

  “So how long are we going to stay here doing nothing?” I said when I heard someone move in the kitchen. I knew he had no problem hearing.

  “Speak for yourself. I’ve gotten a lot of things done.” Even from the other room, I heard the smile in his voice. “We leave tomorrow.”

  “I want to go to Manhattan,” I said. I wanted to at least see one more city filled with humans before my time came. I was positive I wouldn’t make it to Washington, but maybe I could to New York.

  “We’re less than half way there,” Hammer said, taking me by surprise. I was so sure he’d object.

  “Really?” I whispered. He came through the door the next second.

  “Yeah. We have time,” he said with a shrug. He sat on the sofa next to me and took a cigarette between his fingers. The memory of that night, the one where he grabbed my neck and held me close to his face, came to mind, and I quickly looked the other way.

  “But what about my Lord?” I didn’t understand why he wasn’t in a hurry. He’d seemed like it when we made our deal.

  “He’s not going anywhere.”

  “You said I would feel him. So far I don’t feel anything different.”

  “You mean other than desperation?” he said, grinning. I didn’t even give him the satisfaction of turning my eyes to his. “It is a little strange. The younger you are, the stronger the feel of your Lord is. But since you are different…”

  “What if I can't help you?” I asked, wondering how the end of it all would look if that were the case.

  “You can.”

  “But what if I can't?” He had to at least consider the possibility.

  “We’ll figure it out when we know for sure.”

  “Okay, well, you better start giving me tips on the how, because I want to at least be prepared to try.”

  He didn’t argue. He turned to face me with a small smile touching his lips.

  “I don’t exactly know how to explain it. It’s a feeling,” he said, touching his gut.

  “Explain the feeling then.”

  “It’s not easy to explain a feeling.”

  “Of course it is. People do it all the time.”

  He moved so fast that I didn’t even see it. I only felt it when he grabbed my wrist and heard my bones crack as they gave in to his strength.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” I hissed through gritted teeth. What the hell was his problem?

  “Describe this. Describe the feeling that this gives you,” he said, pointing at my wrist in his hand. I tried to pull away, but he was too strong, and I was no match.

  “Hammer, let me go!” I warned, but he just smiled. Since he didn't let go or loosen his hold, my body didn’t get the chance to forget the pain like it normally would.

  “I will. Just describe this to me,” he said again and pulled at my hand. I put my feet up against his stomach and pushed as hard as I could, lying down to get more leverage. He gasped, but he never let go of me. I buried my nails deep in his skin, but that didn’t seem to make him even flinch.

  “I’m going to…” But before I lost momentum, I pushed my knee under his chin. That still didn’t make him let go. Instead, he put his free hand on my chest to hold me down, and his legs to pin mine to the side. Only when he fell right on top of me did we both stop struggling, realizing the position we were in.

  I was lying on the sofa, one hand in front of my chest and the other trying desperately to push his shoulder up, my legs spread with him in between, right on top of me. He didn’t move, just stared down at me, and when his fingers finally let go of my wrist, the pain immediately faded away.

  “You don’t ever give up, do you?” he whispered, the air blowing straight to my parted lips. “And yet you already have.”

  I wanted to tell him to get off me, but the heat in my body wouldn’t let me speak the words. My hand gripped his shirt as if it didn’t know whether it wanted to push him or pull him to me. His eyes on my lips invited mine to his. I could swear I tasted what it would feel like, and shivers continued to move throughout my body. I ached somewhere between my thighs, the sensation as alarming and foreign as it was exciting and all-consuming.

  “Describe this to me. Come on, how does it make you feel?” he said, never taking his eyes off my lips. I watched the beauty of his hot amber and honey eyes, and felt as if it would be the best feeling in the world to put my lips on their lids and kiss them. Strings of his hair fell forward, caressing my forehead with every breath I took. I could see trouble and instead of running from it like I always did, I strangely welcomed it this time.

  I should’ve just described the pain. At least pain was something I was much more familiar with than this.

  “Nerve-wracked,” I whispered, because it was the least shameful truth. What I didn’t add was how absolutely great it felt to have my nerves wracked and to have every cell in my body stand in attention, almost hypnotized by the vibrations this feeling caused. “You?” I breathed.

  “Perplexed,” he said and moved even closer to me. The tips of our noses touched. Fire started from there and spread all over my face.

  “Suspended,” I whispered, because that was what I felt. Suspended in time.

  “Helpless,” he said.

  “Raw.” Raw, because I hadn’t had the chance to even analyze the feeling to make sense of it before it consumed me. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.

  “Frisky,” he said, and his lips stretched into a smile.

  “Terrified,” because I was terrified of how much that smile made me feel.

  “Looks like you were right,” he said with a sigh and brought his forehead to rest on mine. So many emotions were running through me that I couldn’t even take a second to rub it in his face. The fact that I was right, I mean.

  He stood up and sat as far away from me as he could on the sofa. I straightened my old cotton shirt and folded my hands on my lap.

  “Let’s see,” he said. “You feel something like a pull in your stomach. At the same time, it’s as if something whispers in your ear and kind of gives you directions.”

  “Okay,” I said just to say something, because it was hard to pay attention.

  “Like, if you’re at a crossroads and you don’t know which turn to take. It’s like an instinct that tells you it’s this way or that; it compels to you take a certain turn.”

  “I don’t feel any of those things,” I mumbled.

  “Maybe if we can get closer to where he is, that will trigger it,” he said in wonder.

  “Do you know where he went?”

  “Not sure. But there aren’t many places he can go. He’s either in Manhattan or Mohg’s guild, which is also in New York,”
he said, scratching his cheek. “If he’s not there, then we’ll try Washington.”

  “Who’s Mohg?” I asked. I’d heard Jordy and Tick mention him before.

  “He’s the master. The Doyen of all Doyens. Like a god in a vampire’s world.” He didn’t seem too fond of the guy.

  “I take it you’re not his fan?” I recognized the crease between his eyebrows.

  “It’s not that I don’t like him. It’s just that,” he said, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees, “no one should have so much unbalanced power. He’s the boss, and nothing others say or do matters. No one can refuse what he says.”

  “You take orders from him, right?”

  “Yeah, basically. He calls them outlaws, the bad guys. He either wants them dead or captured alive, whichever is more convenient.”

  “Did he send you after Everard?”

  “No. What I have with Everard is personal.”

  “Really?” He only nodded. “Why are you after him?” I really wanted to know what my Lord had done to hurt Hammer.

  “Why do you always wear that red lipstick?” he asked instead.

  I was going to tell him to mind his own business, but then I realized, we were having a normal conversation. He told me everything I asked him. I could share one story. It wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it. So I took a deep breath.

  “My mother was a prostitute,” I started. “When I stole one from her room once and wore it, she told me I looked like one, too. I stole two of them that day and always kept them with me to remind me that no matter what happens, I would never sell my body, no matter the price.”

  I still remembered that day clearly. I found one of her lipsticks in her room, where I was never supposed to go, no matter what. But I did anyway. Nothing she ever said mattered to me. Not when she told me she wished I was never born ever since I was four and could understand. Not when she beat me five times a week with leather belts. Not when she almost left me to starve in my room, for days at a time. But I took two of her lipsticks, and I put one on. The rich, bright red color made me look like a ghost. But I had to show it to her. I was nineteen at the time and planning to spend the rest of my life just pissing her off, because I couldn’t have my own place. Everybody lived together, because there was no space.

  I walked in the kitchen that day, smiling. She took one look at my face and gasped. I showed her the golden lid of the lipstick and smiled wider.

  “You look like a prostitute,” she said. I can't say that my breath didn’t catch or that her words didn’t cut right through me. But from that second on, I always wore red lipstick. To remind myself to never become an object. To never sell my body for money. To remind myself, if the thought so much as crossed my mind, that I would never become like her.

  I ran to my room, crying, and took off from the window.

  Two hours later, I came back to find the house torched.

  Hammer nodded, and I heard his teeth clench, but he didn’t say anything else about the subject.

  “Three years ago my mate disappeared.”

  Flames licked my stomach in an instant.

  “Mate?”

  “Yeah, my girlfriend in human terms.”

  “You have a girlfriend?” I didn’t get the reason behind my question or behind the fact that my stomach was churning in a very unpleasant way.

  “Had. Like I said, she disappeared three years ago.” Suddenly, I didn’t want him to tell me the story anymore. “I searched for her all over the place for a year, but I didn’t find her. Then, about a month ago I got a tip that she was seen with Everard somewhere, doing…” At that, he pulled his hands into fists as if to force himself to stop. “So that’s why I’m going after him.”

  “You’re hoping to find her,” I whispered.

  “I am,” he confirmed with a nod.

  “Did it occur to you that she maybe wanted to leave? To disappear?”

  I could almost picture her, and I could bet my life that I would hate her if I ever got to meet her.

  “Sure. Chandra is full of surprises. It might actually be a big possibility that she wanted to leave, but she owes me an explanation, at very least.”

  Chandra. What a weird name, not that I was one to speak. But something that was eating at my stomach kept the questions flowing.

  “Do you love her?” I asked and then wished I could’ve just kept my mouth shut for once and not followed my curiosity.

  “I’ve been with her for a century, almost. I did love her. I haven’t seen her in three years, but we’ve been through a lot together.” The vaguest answer I’d ever heard.

  “Which means?”

  He turned to me again and watched me with a wondrous smile. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed deeply in my best act. “I don’t want to know badly. We were just talking,” I said and avoided his eyes, because I was afraid he might catch my lie if he saw mine. His small mouth was stretched into a smile as he watched me in silence for a while. I was burning with curiosity and something else I didn’t particularly like, but I didn’t let myself speak. I couldn’t have him asking again why I wanted to know or suspecting that I had anything but hatred reserved for him in my chest.

  “Why do you cry yourself to sleep every night?” he asked me out of the blue.

  “I do not,” I hissed.

  “Yeah, you do. You did last night, too.”

  Shit. I’d been so sure that he wouldn’t hear me. I never even made a sound! I had no words to answer his question, so I didn’t. I just continued to look away.

  A knock sounded at the door, breaking the heavy silence in the worst possible way. We both stood up and flew to the door. Hammer’s hand wrapped around my mouth while he sniffed soundlessly. And then, he seemed to realize who it was.

  I would have been sweating if I wasn’t, you know, half dead. My fingers shook like always, and I almost felt like I wanted to throw up all the whiskey I had drunk until now. Hammer let go of my mouth and pointed a finger at the ceiling.

  Fast, he mouthed. He wanted me to go upstairs. I didn’t want to leave him alone to deal with whoever was behind that door, but the look on his face was that of almost-hunting-mode. So I moved as fast as my legs would let me and closed the door to the room I was sleeping in.

  I concentrated with my eyes closed and every other sense shut, except my ears. The next second, Hammer opened the door.

  “Took you long enough,” a strange, throaty, cold voice muttered.

  “I was busy,” Hammer said, and you could never tell from his tone that he had something to hide. But why hide me?

  Oh, right. I was a vampire with a beating heart.

  “I see,” the voice said. I couldn’t even begin to create a visual of what the owner of it looked like. I just had the impression that he was very big. “I had no idea you brought food to your house.”

  I could hear the grin in his voice. My hand flew to my heart, cursing its beating a thousand times.

  “That’s cuz it’s none of your business,” Hammer said, his tone as friendly as ever.

  “Mohg sends his regards,” the stranger said, and then I heard steps moving away from the house. Was he leaving?

  “Thanks, Bat. See ya,” Hammer said, and then the door closed. I opened mine to go downstairs, but Hammer was already at my doorway. He came inside the room and went by the window to look outside. I noticed he had a white envelope in his hands, holding it tightly.

  “Is he gone?” I asked in a shaky voice. Hammer looked for a few more seconds before he seemed positive that no one else was out there. I dropped on the bed with a deep sigh.

  “He scared the shit out of me,” I admitted, feeling a little pathetic.

  “You don’t need to be scared. Nobody knows this place but Mohg and his most trusted men,” he said.

  “What did he give you?” I asked, looking at the envelope in his hands. He sat down next to me without a sound and tore the paper open. A small note was the only thing inside.
It had but one sentence written in the most beautiful handwriting I had ever seen. It simply said:

  Cease your search of Doyen Everard.

  Just that simple sentence, nothing more. Not even a signature.

  “Can he do that?” I asked, a little taken aback by the order on the letter. The guy sounded like a mega creepy dude with really sharp teeth. A chill ran down my spine at the implied threat the words contained. They promised a not so happy day if Hammer didn’t do as told.

  “How did he even know? Who have you told?” I asked, my eyes analyzing each letter, before I realized that Hammer was just sitting there, staring at the blank wall in front of him.

  “Hammer?” He was so immobile that he felt like a statue next to me. It looked impossible for him to be alive right now. “Hello? Hammer, are you okay?” I said and waved my hand in front of his eyes. When he didn’t move at that, either, I touched his ice-cold hand. At the contact, he turned abruptly.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered.

  I followed him downstairs and watched him light a cigarette, his jaw working all the while as if some sort of a crazy idea was taking shape in his mind.

  “Do you mind sharing? You’re kinda freaking me out here.”

  “In the two hundred years that I have been a hunter, this has never happened,” he said, resting his hip on the edge of the sofa. “It’s strange.”

  I didn’t know what kind of a relationship he had with the Mohg guy so all I could do was ask questions.

  “Why? Why is it strange?”

  “Because it’s very unlike Mohg. He doesn’t deal with things like this. He thinks himself too important. Why would he bother to stop me? He has never involved himself in my personal business before,” he said, deep in thought as he stared ahead at nothing. I saw it in his face lines, in the way the amber in his eyes looked almost cloudy, that he wasn’t letting me in on everything.

  “Hammer, what’s wrong?” I asked because I had no other question. I didn’t have enough insight to the whole thing.

  “You said you lived right outside the wall of Boston, right?” he asked, and began to pace around the sofa.