Strays Read online

  “Yeah, after you bulldozed your way into my space!” He snorted. “And I didn’t ask for any of your cand-chocolate!”

  “But you ate it!” Max laughed.

  Dakota laughed, shaking his head. “It was good, too.” He grinned.

  “He smiles! I knew you had it in you. You should do that more often.”

  “Why?”

  “You have nice teeth.”

  “Ah. Perfect reasoning. Good job.” Dakota was tired of holding his gun, but he had a feeling he might need to use it soon. A tingling sensation made the hairs on the back of his neck stand, or maybe it was the way Max’s arm brushed his when she moved closer to him. “It’s right up here.”

  “Thank God. I thought we’d never get there.”

  Dakota nodded. “You should be nicer to my brother. He likes you. And I’m tired of hearing his mouth about it.”

  “That has nothing to do with me. He’s the one who told me that it was just ‘fun,’ and I don’t feel that w—I shouldn’t talk to you about this.”

  “Why?”

  “Curly isn’t my type.”

  “You have a type, ballerina?”

  “It isn’t you either.”

  “There you go flattering yourself again.” He laughed.

  Max shrugged. “He’s a cool guy, but… I don’t know… the world is big.”

  “Is it? Last I heard, Mexico was under water. Getting smaller by the second.” He went to turn down the ammo aisle, but stopped short and backed up quickly. He put his arm out to stop Max, pulling her an aisle over. He flicked his flashlight off.

  “What?” Max scooted up closer to him.

  “What on earth do you think?”

  “Strays?”

  “No. Some people’re having a picnic and I didn’t want to interrupt. Yes, Strays!”

  This is what my life has been reduced to…

  Fourteen

  Dakota

  ●

  Rosemary taught me nothing before she died.

  Dakota held Max’s arm as she peeked around the aisle to see the Strays, but she brought her body back quickly. Her eyes met his. “They’re not there,” she said. She waited for him to respond, but he said nothing. “Are you losing it?”

  “No!” He walked around her. “They were here. I saw them. They’re fast. Maybe they ran off.”

  Max looked all around her. She looked up at the same time Dakota did. She couldn’t tell if they were up there or not. It was too dark for her to see anything, but Dakota saw nothing. The only clearly visible things in the dark were Dakota’s eyes. Max watched them as they darted from side-to-side, searching for proof that Strays had been there. He looked at her, turning his lips up. “Whatever. How about we just get the stuff so we can get the hell out of here.”

  Max quickly nodded and faced the locked cabinet of bullets. The fact that it was locked was pointless since someone had broken the glass anyway. “Not much of a variety,” Max said and flicked away chips of glass.

  “Not much of anything.”

  She didn’t know what she was looking for so she let Dakota step in. He kept one hand on her arm and used the other hand to look over the boxes. His gun strap hung from his shoulder. She wanted to grab it to turn on the light, but she didn’t. Instead, she kept her eyes firmly on Dakota and thought about how relaxed she was with his hand on her arm.

  “There’s nothing for our guns.”

  “So we’ve wasted time. Great.”

  “No, turn around.” But before she could, Dakota spun her around and unzipped the backpack. He stuffed the bag with heavy boxes of bullets. “We’ll take them anyway. I don’t know what weapons the others have. And we might be able to use them later.”

  Max couldn’t see anything, but darkness ahead of her. “Batteries,” she said, quietly, staring off into the boundless black. “We should get batteries and flashlights.” Anything to light up the darkness.

  Dakota stopped moving behind her. His hands went to her shoulders and his eyes followed her gaze into the dark. Slowly and quietly, he zipped the backpack.

  “That too heavy for you?” he said, bringing his gun up.

  “No,” Max whispered.

  “Good. Run.”

  Max didn’t hesitate. She took off through the darkness, hoping that she didn’t run into more Strays. As soon as she ran off, the Strays were behind her. Dakota took off after them, lifting his gun up to shoot, but before he could pull the trigger he was tackled to the ground. The gun was thrown out of his hand and it slammed onto the tile.

  “Max!” he screamed, looking after her. “Don’t stop!”

  He didn’t know if she had heard him at all, but she kept running. Black cloaks and white eyes blocked his sight of her. He was better than this, faster than this. He was as fast as they were. Rosemary hadn’t taught him anything when he was a vampire, but he had made damn sure to teach himself. He had counted the Strays that had run after Max. Two. And when he was done with this one, he was going to kill them, too. He could only pray that the backpack didn’t weigh her down.

  The Stray that had attacked him brought him instantly back to reality when it jabbed its nails into his ankle. Dakota kicked it off for a moment, but the thing was on him again. It grabbed him by his collar, brought him up swiftly and threw him back against the shelves. His back slammed against them and a bulldozer of pain ricocheted through him. He recovered quickly enough to stop the Stray’s mouth from tearing into him. Instead, its teeth tore into his fingers. The Stray growled at him, pushing in closer. Its hands ripped into Dakota’s shoulders, but Dakota kept his hands on the creature’s mouth and stretched it open wide. He felt the veins in his face bulging under his skin, revealing him for the monstrous vampire he had once thought himself. He returned a fierce growl at the Stray. His sharp teeth cut through his gums, shocking his system for only a brief second. He doubted he would ever get used to the pain of that.

  “You were human once?” he stretched the Stray’s mouth as its nails penetrated his arms. He could heal. The pain would be there, but at least he would heal. His fingers tingled and his skin crawled as he listened to the Stray’s flesh ripping at the corner of its mouth. “I can’t picture it.” With as much strength as he could bare, and with his eyes closed, he tore the thing’s head nearly into two. It dropped to the floor at his feet.

  Dakota’s arms felt like he had been lifting weights for hours. Not only did they feel sore, but heavy, like he wasn’t supposed to carry them. He sucked it up and ran to his gun. If he had enough matches, he would’ve lit the damn Stray on fire, set an example for the others to stay the hell away. The only thing he could think about was Max. Obviously, the Strays had thirsted more for human blood than they had for vampire’s. If he’d have known they would go straight after her, he would’ve never told her to run. He picked up his gun and went in the direction she had gone. He didn’t know how far she had run or if she had found some place to hide. He wasn’t afraid of Strays. He was afraid of her dying… and not because Reagan had told him to look after her, and not because Curly would kill him if anything happened to her. He was afraid of her dying because he had grown to like her and he couldn’t fathom losing her before he got the chance to know her. Plus, he owed her some chocolate.

  “Max,” he whispered. He flicked the flashlight on the gun and held it up. “Max.” Curly was right. It was her smile. And her eyes. And her personality. And her innocence. And her strength. It was the way she did things like she didn’t know she was being watched, and how she didn’t care if she was being watched. It was the way her hair fell over her eyes and how she nonchalantly flicked it away. It was her teeth, how crooked the bottoms were, but how straight the tops were. It was how girly she looked even in boy’s clothes and how delicately she moved like she was still dancing, like she was always dancing. “Max?”

  “Hey,” she whispered from somewhere.

  Dakota’s head shot to where the bicycles had once been. There was only a child’s bicycle left, hanging lopsidedl
y from a silver bar. Max’s head stuck out from between black bars. Dakota ran to her and helped her up. His hands went to her face. “Are you okay?”

  Max nodded. “But you’re not. You’re bleeding.”

  “I’ll heal.” He dropped his hands from her face. “You run fast, kid.”

  Max grinned. “We need to get back to the others.”

  “No shit. Did you see where those Strays went?”

  Max shook her head. “I couldn’t think beyond you.”

  That was another thing he admired. She said things without thinking about them or how they made other people feel. Dakota just felt awkward.

  “Well, I’m fine.”

  “Hey!” Taddy’s voice startled them. He was holding a green comforter set and a garbage bag full of clothes. “What the hell’re you guys just standing there for? They’re Strays all over the place. Let’s get the hell out of here. Everyone’s waiting up front.”

  Max grabbed Dakota’s hand, but he didn’t think about it. He strung her along, following Taddy’s lead—but before they could get very far, a resounding bang made his ear flinch and a flicker of light caught the corner of his eye. Something hot and hard hit his jaw, knocking him sideways.

  He heard Max scream his name before another bang and another pain in his side. Something inside him cracked and he yelled out. The last thing he saw before he hit the ground was Max’s delicate fingers reaching for him and Taddy yelling at whoever had pulled the trigger. His head hit the floor hard, but he couldn’t dare think about that pain when he had just been shot twice.

  “What’re you doing?!” He heard Max scream. “What’re you doing?!” She dropped beside him.

  “There were Strays!” Darcy cried. “Right freakin’ behind you!”

  “You could’ve shot Maxxy too!” Ginger’s voice. “Let’s go. Those Strays’re going to be all over us!”

  “Get the bags! I’ll carry him.”

  “Dakota?” Max’s anxiety was barely disguised. “Dakota?”

  He was awake. He felt awake. He was awake enough to hear Max’s voice and feel her hand on his own.

  My name is Dakota Joseph Reagan.

  My name is Dakota.

  I was human once.

  My name is Dakota.

  I was human.

  Human…

  I have to remember that.

  I have to remember…

  Fifteen

  Dakota

  ●

  Maxxy danced like one of those spinning plastic dolls in a music box. There was no music playing, but she moved so effortlessly that I could just make up the music in my head. But she didn’t need it. She didn’t need the music. It was inside of her, the way her face lit up when she danced, the way her leotard and skirt glittered in the light, wherever it was coming from. And I, in a suit, was her only audience, but she didn’t care. She danced. And when she was done, when she had finished with a twirl and a graceful collapse into herself, her eyes went straight to me. I stood and clapped. My two hands were the only things that could be heard in the auditorium. And she was breathless and elegant and enchanting and I was the only one she saw.

  Dakota’s eyes opened wide enough to see that they were out of the department store and back at the house. Everyone rushed around him, Eric with a bucket of water, which splattered out and onto the floor as he rushed it away. The water had become a cloudy red. Taddy was reprimanding Darcy in the corner of the living room. Curly had a blood soaked rag in his hands. He squeezed bloody water out of it into another bucket. Dakota closed his eyes. When he opened them, Curly was standing over him again, still holding the rag. His eyes wandered to the doorway of the living room where Ginger stood over the pile of supplies they had gathered. She was going through a bag of clothes. How they had managed to carry all that stuff and him back, too, was beyond him. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, obviously more time had passed because Eric was asleep on the floor with his head on Mariana’s lap. The only people awake left in the living room were Max, who sat by his side on the floor and held his hand, Curly and Taddy.

  “Well, why the hell is he still bleeding like this?” Curly snapped. “He’s a vampire! Shouldn’t he be healing?”

  “Listen, calm down!” Taddy said. “I didn’t shoot your brother. That idiot upstairs did. If you’re looking for somebody to blame I suggest you go up a flight.”

  Curly sighed. “I just want to know why he’s not healing!”

  “He is! It’s just taking some time.”

  “Could you guys be a little quieter?” Max said, quietly.

  Her voice was more than comfort to Dakota, who seemed to be paralyzed. He couldn’t move his arms or legs and his jaw felt like it had been wired shut. It felt out of place. Darcy had shot him, trying to shoot at Strays. Luckily, he had most likely scared the Strays off, which had gotten everyone out of there safely, but that hadn’t done Dakota any good. He changed his mind about the pain thing. Craving blood, no, that wasn’t painful. This… being shot… that was the real pain. He had been shot before, but definitely not in his head.

  “Max, you should get some rest,” Curly suggested.

  “What? No way.”

  “It’s late.”

  “Your point?”

  “You’ll need your rest just in case Strays”—

  She rolled her eyes at Curly and turned her attention to Taddy, instead. “Can’t you give him something? Can’t you give him your blood?”

  “And what’ll that do, sweetheart?” Taddy squinted and crossed his arms.

  “Well, when Curly was hurt”—

  “He’s human!” Taddy said. “Dakota’s a vampire. His blood already has the healing effect. It’s just going to take time.”

  “And how much blood does he lose in the process?” Max stood up, crossing her arms.

  “Do I look like a fucking doctor to you? Do I have Doctor Taddy stamped on my forehead? Am I wearing scrubs, sweetheart? Seriously. The kid’s a vampire, hopefully a strong one. He’ll heal. The bullets will push themselves out, the bones will replace, the skin will close.”

  “Is that painful?” Curly said.

  “The bones? Quite. Now, if you’ll excuse me. It’s late. I’ve entertained this enough. Good night.” He left the room, rubbing his head and Dakota listened to the distant thudding of his feet on the stairs. A door opened and closed upstairs and then the living room was quiet.

  He closed his eyes.

  She was a spinning doll in a silent music box…

  Dakota opened his eyes wide. Something was moving in his jaw. Something hard and small was forcing itself through his face. If he had the voice to scream he would’ve woken the whole house. But Max had fallen asleep holding his hand with her head on his arm and Curly was sitting at the other end of the sofa with Dakota’s feet on his lap. The bullet emerged slightly from his skin, holding there as if it was a car waiting for a green light. Several second later the remaining piece pushed through and all at once Dakota’s jawbone snapped back into place. Now, he couldn’t hold his voice in if he tried. He yelled out, unable to grab his face like he wanted.

  Max and Curly both jerked awake.

  “Kota?” Max climbed onto her knees. “He’s crying, Dante.”

  “He’s in pain.”

  Dakota hadn’t felt the tears until Max said something. They tickled the sides of his face.

  “And bleeding.” Curly moved his feet to grab a rag from the bag they had carried from the department store.

  Dakota tasted his own blood in his mouth and felt the blood that escaped from his closing wounds. Curly wiped the blood from his mouth first and then from his cheek and neck. The dry rag was rough on his skin. Even as Curly wiped his blood, his eyes stayed on Max. Right now, she was his pain reliever. Right now, she was the only thing keeping his body from giving in. A terrible crack ripped through his side and his entire body vibrated with pain so intense that he yelled and curled over.

  “Oh, Dakota!” Max squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Kota.�
��

  “His bones are popping back into place, like Taddy said.”

  “Can you do something?”

  “No. I can try to make him comfortable.” He helped Dakota lay flat on his back and fluffed the pillows beneath his head. “Open that.” He pointed across the room at the green comforter Taddy had grabbed.

  Max reached over to grab it so that she didn’t let go of Dakota’s hand. Using one hand, she pulled it to her and unzipped it. Curly pulled it from its plastic bag, unfolded it and covered Dakota.

  “We can try not to get blood on it.”

  “It’s warm,” Max said. “Are you warm, Kota?”

  But Dakota couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Fatigue covered him against his will. He couldn’t understand why he was so tired. He hadn’t done anything. Then again, he had lost a lot of blood, and his body was healing itself, taking his energy in the process. When he opened his eyes again, Max was asleep with his hand. She had been holding his hand for so long that both their hands were sweating.

  “Hey.” Curly walked over and stood over him. “How’re you doing?”

  Dakota closed his eyes.

  A spinning doll…

  Dakota opened his eyes again. The sun was out and Curly and Darcy were talking in the foyer. Maybe arguing.

  “Just drop it,” Max said, lowly. “It’s over.”

  “Max, stay out of this,” Darcy said.

  “Give me your gun,” Curly said.

  “I’m not giving you my gun.”

  “If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to take it.”

  “No, Curly, stop,” Max said, fiercely.

  “Stay out of it, Max!” Curly barked. “Why don’t you go and check on Kota?”

  Dakota didn’t think he needed to be checked on anymore. He was slowly but surely becoming himself. He could feel that his body was almost finished healing itself. The bullets were gone. He didn’t have that tight, breathtaking feeling in his chest anymore. The pain was almost gone. He was more tired than anything. He must have turned over in the night because he faced the cushions of the sofa. His own breath was hot on his face. He closed his eyes when Max walked into the room, but he didn’t sleep.