Strays Read online

  “Dakota?” Why do I care? Why am I worried about him and not the hungry snarls all around me? “Dakota?” No response. “Dakota!”

  “Hey!” Dakota’s voice directly in her ear woke Max up from her nightmare.

  She looked frantically around her, her arms up in front of her like she was trying to block away sunlight. Every inch of her trembled down to the bone. She wasn’t sure she had ever experienced so much terror in a nightmare before. Dakota grabbed her face to keep her head still, but when she looked into his eyes she was briefly thrown back into her nightmare and the fear returned all over again. She pulled her head away.

  “It was just a nightmare,” she said, sniffling and wiping her tears. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  “About me?” Dakota squinted.

  Max looked at him again. He wasn’t completely deaf. He had heard her scream his name. She didn’t know any other men named Dakota. She pushed an old quilt from her—not knowing or caring where it had come from—and stood up. Curly was still asleep on the floor. Dakota had covered his wounds with torn cloth, but she doubted they would hold up for long. Last night, he had been bleeding so badly that it had left a trail from outside in. She was surprised that he had lasted so long. Then she remembered Dakota telling her something about vampire blood healing him. She looked at Dakota. He was paler than he had been last night. The skin around his eyes was bright pink.

  Not only had he stayed up all night, but he had probably been feeding Curly his blood all night too.

  “Kota.”

  “There’s running water,” he said, before she could get anything out.

  “Kota, you’ve been feeding him all night?”

  “Yeah, and check this out.” He walked clumsily to his brother and dropped to his knees by his side. Carefully he removed the homemade bandages to reveal that the wound on Curly’s neck was damn near gone.

  Max had no words. She could understand it getting better, not bleeding as much, but gone completely? It was other-worldly. Dakota had been healing him with his blood, making himself sick in the process.

  “You’re killing yourself,” Max said, unease noticeably in her voice.

  “So?”

  “Kota.”

  “Look, I don’t care. He’s getting better. He won’t turn Stray. Aren’t you—I thought you would be happy to hear that.”

  “I am!”

  “Then act like it.”

  “I’d be happier if you didn’t—you look sick. You’re…”

  “I don’t care. I’ll worry about me when he’s awake.”

  Max sucked in a deep breath and let it out. There was no reasoning with him, and she didn’t feel like wasting her time. “There’s running water, you said?”

  “In the laundry.” He pointed across the basement, now lit by the sunshine breaking through small, rectangular windows. They were slightly open to let in air, too cold for Max. She walked across the basement to the laundry and closed the door once she was inside. Her mind lingered on the nightmare. She reached across the giant sink and turned the hot water knob. Nothing. She turned the cold water. It spurted in short intervals from the nozzle like someone was manually controlling it. Slowly she began to take her clothes off. She had been so close to grabbing his hand. She still felt the tips of his fingers on hers and heard the desperation in his voice when he called her name.

  “Max?” A knock came from outside the door.

  Holding her sweater to cover her, she pulled it open.

  “I found these in a bedroom upstairs.” He went to hand her a white garbage bag of wrinkled dark clothing. “I think whoever wore them was going through some weight issues.” He chuckled. “But I figured you might find something.”

  “Oh.” Max struggled to hold the bag and her shirt up at the same time. She took it. “Thanks.”

  “Yep.” He closed the door after him and Max’s stomach dropped when he was away.

  She didn’t understand this. She disliked him, but she cared about him, too, or was trying to. It was enough to make her question her own sanity. There wasn’t soap, but whoever had lived there had obviously been washing their clothes with dish detergent. She didn’t know how old it was, but she didn’t care. She washed up with it, using her hand, and rinsed. She used one of the shirts from the laundry basket to dry off. There was no underwear, but there was an old pair of blue jeans that were a little loose on her. She rolled them up at the top to make them fit tighter. She found a red t-shirt, but she topped it off with an oversized brown sweater. It was getting colder and she wanted to be as warm as possible. When she was all done she went back to check on Dakota. And Curly.

  Dakota was leaned over Curly with his cut wrist to his mouth. Curly was only awake enough to suck weakly from his arm. Dakota’s self-inflicted wound from yesterday had healed flawlessly. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the small fish tattoo on his left wrist. She saw the turtle tattoo for the first time on his right. Its brown shell looked real. She touched it softly, but he moved his hand away.

  “You have a lot of tattoos.”

  “Yeah.” He leaned back once Curly had finished and pushed himself back on the wall. “Started when I was fifteen.”

  “When you were a vampire. Did you want them when you were human?”

  “Not really.” He looked at his arms, assessing his tattoos and reminiscing.

  Max scanned them. His left shoulder was covered in a black-and-white tiger, morphing into blazing flames, which curled into what looked like serpents that disappeared behind him. The rest of his left arm was covered in a ribbon of sheet music with red and black musical notes. There was a skull head mixed in there somewhere. His left arm was covered down to his fish tattoo. His right arm had only the turtle on his wrist and a list of dates going down the side of his shoulder.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “You go numb after a while.”

  “No, I meant becoming a vampire.”

  “Oh.” He pushed his head back on the wall and closed his eyes. “You know, I can’t remember.” He opened his eyes. “Don’t remember a thing. I remember her name though, the woman who bit me. Rosemary.”

  Max thought it strange that he remembered the woman who had ruined his life. He couldn’t remember the pain, or lack thereof, of becoming a vampire, but he remembered the woman who had turned him into one? It seemed a little backwards to her. “You hate her?”

  His eyes transformed from their normal mint green to a liquid dark red. Max watched them, frightened and intrigued. He shook his head. “Of course not. She saved my life. I was dying, Maxxy. I had Meningitis. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for her.” He turned his head slightly to look at Curly. He had groaned and was waking up.

  “Kota, do you need to feed?” Max spoke quietly and messed with her fingernails when she asked him. She didn’t know what it was like to have a vampire feed from her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to feel that, but she knew that Dakota was thirsty and she knew that Curly was too weak to provide him with blood. She was the only other option. First, she was knocked with the reality that Curly could have possibly turned Stray. Now it was possible that Dakota could, if he didn’t feed. Reagan had said it would take about a week, but he already looked sick enough. When she looked at him, his eyes were on her, squinted. His eyebrows were turned down like he was a child, trying to understand a difficult question.

  “No,” he said, after a while. “I’m fine.”

  “But you’re thirsty.”

  “I can wait till Dante’s better.”

  Curly moaned and his hands went slowly to his neck, which was completely healed now like he had never been bitten. He closed his eyes for several long seconds, and then opened them again. He went to sit up. Dakota helped him.

  “If you’re thirsty, you can feed from me.” She didn’t know what she was saying. Why would she say that?

  Dakota looked at her, confused. Then he went back to helping Curly. He pushed him back against the wall to give him balance. “I”—
/>   “No,” Curly said, in a croaky voice. “I don’t want him”— he coughed— “I don’t want him feeding off you.”

  Max looked from Curly to Dakota and she wasn’t sure if she had read his face correctly, but he looked disappointed. He said nothing. He rolled up Curly’s torn sleeve to check his arm where the Stray had bitten. That, too, had healed.

  “But he just… he’s weak, Curly.”

  “He’s fine!” Curly raised his voice.

  “You two can discuss this. I’ll take myself out of the equation. I’ll get you some water.” Walking slowly and holding on to what he could find to carry himself, he went to the laundry room. Max heard the water cut on.

  “How could you do that?” she said, moving closer to Curly. “He just saved your life and kept you from turning Stray.”

  “What’re you talking about, turning Stray? What’re you”—

  “He needs blood.”

  “He can wait,” Curly said, gently rubbing his neck where his wound used to be.

  “He shouldn’t have to!” Max shouldn’t have been as upset as she was. She couldn’t put her feelings in order and didn’t understand why she was so passionate about it. All she knew was that she didn’t like seeing Dakota in need. She didn’t like seeing him weak. What she wanted was for Curly to act like his older brother and help him, just as Kota had helped him.

  “Look, it means something when you feed from a female. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  She wasn’t a vampire. She didn’t understand and she didn’t care. Vampire traditions. Whatever. He needed blood and she didn’t care who he got it from as long as he was healthy again. “If he can’t get blood from you, then I’m the only other”—

  “No!” Curly said, firmly. “Vampires don’t just go around drinking blood from females unless they mean something to each other. It’s… like a moral thing to them.”

  “He used to be human? I doubt he gives a shit about their morals.”

  “My answer is no, Max.”

  “Why?” Why did he care? Because they had had sex? Because he was jealous of Kota? Did he have feelings for her, like Kota said? Wasn’t he the one who had said they were just having fun? She didn’t understand the point of it. Dakota came back with the water just as she was about to give Curly a piece of her mind. She kept her mouth shut. He put the candy dish to Curly’s mouth, but Curly took it from him and drunk it on his own. Max rolled her eyes. She couldn’t stand to look at him. “You’re a selfish bastard, Dante Reagan.”

  She expected Dakota to jump in and say something since they were both so good at defending each other, but he didn’t. He was probably too weak to argue. He sat down, closed his eyes and ducked his head low.

  “Look at him,” Max said, her voice back to its normal quiet tone.

  “He’s been through worse.”

  That was enough to make her want to slap him. Instead of arguing with him anymore, she stormed angrily from the basement, ignoring the incredible amount of noise her boots made on the floor. She wasn’t used to making such noise. The smell of death and blood hit her as soon as she opened the basement door. She had forgotten that she was in a new house, not the same one from the other night, the one that had been cleaner. This house was messy, had been destroyed like a storm had come through it. She was surprised it was still standing. The wooden floors were scratched and torn like Strays had spent an entire day tearing it up. There was broken glass all over the place, overturned tables, broken chairs. Pictures had been taken from the walls and thrown about in a rage. Even the front door was cocked halfway open, letting the cool breeze come in from outside. Trails of dried mud blended in with the wood. Drips of Curly’s blood did too. The mud didn’t look too old, probably a few days.

  Needing to get out of the stench, Max raced to the front door and threw it open. She hated that it was so cold, but she was grateful for the fresh air. She could breathe in this air. Soon, she would get back to her brother. She wasn’t far now. Couldn’t be. They had probably taken up refuge in one of the houses, like they always did. She would check every house on the block. She could do that on her own, without Dakota or Curly. Curly could go back to Reagan if he wanted. Traveling with two grown men was no fun. She might have fantasized about it when she was younger, but now it was just torture. Her father would not approve.

  Can you see me, daddy?

  “You okay?” Dakota’s voice came from behind her.

  She shrugged. She was surprised to see that he had come to check on her. She turned to look at him, but looking at him brought all the pain back from her nightmare.

  “Curly told me to make sure you didn’t leave.” He half smiled. His boots thudded across the wooden porch as he walked. He leaned over onto the white banister, placing his elbows on it. He dropped his head. “This air’s heaven sent.”

  “Mm hm.” Max stood back and observed him. He was handsome. Even his side profile was handsome, though she had never been a fan of such thick eyebrows. He had put his black t-shirt back on, hiding the tattoos on his shoulders, but his hair was pinned up so that she could see the microdermal piercings poking from the back of his neck. “I wasn’t thinking about leaving.” But she had been.

  “Good.” He stood up straight, turned slightly so that he could look at her. “Because we both know you have poor judgment and no concept of danger, whatsoever.” He crossed his arms.

  Max laughed. “Not true.”

  “I think so. Curly definitely thinks so.”

  “Screw Curly. He’s selfish.”

  “Uh… he likes you. Clearly.”

  “What? No.”

  “Don’t be naïve. You think he would’ve told any other chick not to let me feed from them? No. He likes you.”

  “He can’t,” Max said, quietly, feeling guilty. She didn’t want Curly to like her because she didn’t feel that way about him. Sex was good, but she was ashamed about that, too. Plus, she couldn’t shake the awkward feeling that overtook her when Dakota stood next to her or when Curly and Dakota both were in the same room together. She couldn’t feel anything for Curly because she might have felt something for his brother, other than hate. She wasn’t sure yet. She needed her dreams to tell her more.

  “Yeah.” Dakota looked away. “He read up on all those vampire traditions like I was just supposed to convert once I was changed. I don’t care. It doesn’t bother me.”

  “But you respect your brother.”

  “That I do… even though he’s given me more than enough reasons not to. He’s still my brother.”

  And he was still thirsty. Max shook her head. He would rather die? Or become Stray? Because his brother was a little possessive? Max didn’t belong to Curly? She didn’t belong to anyone. She bit the inside of her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Kota, if I’ve been being, like, a brat or whatever.”

  Dakota snickered and put his arms up on his head. When he did his t-shirt raised a little, exposing the dark ink on his hips. “You’re apologizing because I’m a dick? Way to go, kid. You’ll be a true leader yet.” He went to walk away. “I’m the sorry one. Don’t worry about it.”

  As he walked past her, Max found her reaching for his hand. She hadn’t been able to reach him in her nightmare, but he was right in front of her now. She could reach him now. She grabbed his hand, stopping him. Right in front of her. She shivered. He was thirsty. If she was his only food supply she had a duty to help him. He had helped her, treated it like his job. Even in her damn dreams he was trying to help her. Her other hand went up to his face and she turned his head so that he would look at her. He kept his eyes down, though.

  “I can’t.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” She moved her collar down slightly, uncovering her neck. She didn’t have any tattoos, any blemishes, but she thought that would all change once he bit her. She had never been bitten by a vampire before. She shouldn’t have wanted this. She didn’t! It was Dakota. It was for Dakota. “It’s okay,” she coaxed him, moving his head gradually to her. For a
moment she felt his warm breath on her chin before his dry lips touched the skin on her neck. She shuddered. She wasn’t sure how one prepared oneself for a vampire’s bite. She doubted there was any preparation. She just braced herself for the impact.

  She felt the points of his teeth touch her and a moment later, she felt them puncture. She flinched. It was like being pinched by twenty people all at once or getting a piercing or ten paper cuts. She couldn’t find a great way to describe it. She just knew that it was painful, like getting a shot. She literally felt him sucking her blood, like all the blood inside of her had stopped and gone in opposite directions. No, she hadn’t felt this before, or anything like it. If she had to choose to do it again, she wouldn’t.

  Dakota’s hand went to her waist and he lifted her up and held her closely. Max didn’t count the seconds, so she didn’t know how much time had gone by. All she knew was that when he was finished and both her feet touched the ground again, he held her for a moment longer. He held her with one hand and wiped the blood from his mouth with the other. Max stared at his face and watched him as the veins disappeared and his vampire teeth became human teeth again.

  “Are you okay?” he said, lowly, still holding her close.

  Max nodded, unable to put into words how she felt. She didn’t know how she felt.

  “Are you sure?” he released her.

  She was light-headed and he had to grab her arms to keep her standing.

  “Sit down for a while.” He walked her to the stairs and helped her sit.

  “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “Why in the hell’re you apologizing to me?” He knelt in front of her. “Me neither. I’ve never fed from a female.” He cleared his throat. “It was different.”

  “You look a hundred times better now.”

  Dakota raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? Yeah, you must be dizzy, kid.” He moved a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear. “Thank you.” He fixed her sweater and jacket so that the four small puncture wounds wouldn’t show.