Hunting the Dark
Contents
Chapter Four: Painful and Necessary
Chapter Seven: Regular Superhero
Chapter Eight: Less Than Human
Chapter Fourteen: Dead Girl Talking
Chapter Fifteen: Interesting. Sort of.
Chapter Sixteen: I Am The Bogeyman
Chapter Seventeen: Locked and Loaded
Chapter Eighteen: Wolves Among Sheep
Chapter Nineteen: Who Wants To Live Forever?
Chapter Twenty: Personal Lab Vamp
Chapter Twenty-One: Hunter. Predator.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Never Say Never
Chapter Twenty-Three: Drink Deep
Chapter Twenty-Four: All or Nothing
Chapter Twenty-Six: Escape Clause
Moth’s adventures in the dark and twisted underworld of modern-day Boston continue in this thrilling sequel to
Falling to Ash
.
Once bitten . . . never shy
Adjusting to life as a vampire hasn’t been easy for Moth. Torn between her family and her maker Theo, Moth spends her time running from one deadly situation to the next.
That’s not her only problem. There’s a killer on the loose and no vampire is safe. Even worse, the prime suspect is Jace Murdoch, Moth’s friend and one-time crush.
He is in serious danger. Moth needs to hunt down the killer before Jace is destroyed.
Time is running out and the darkness is closing in . . .
Karen Mahoney
To Maralyn Mahoney and Vijay Rana, for jointly being the best writer support system I could ever need.
‘
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.
’
Friedrich Nietzsche
The Cage
The monster sits in her cage, shimmering bars glinting a sharp warning.
She is cross-legged and calm, but that sense of calm is just another mask. Monsters are good with masks; they wear them well.
Tangled hair falls across her eyes. Her pale hands rest in her lap, fingers curled unconsciously into claws.
A voice speaks, tinny and distant through the intercom. She is used to this. They hold her in a cage, and yet they are afraid of her. Sometimes this knowledge – this truth – comforts her. Amuses her, even. But today she simply feels tired.
A muscle twitches in her jaw and her back tenses.
‘Lie face down on the floor with your hands behind your head.’
The voice is familiar, somehow soothing despite the threat of punishment if she does not comply.
‘I said, face down! Move it, Subject Ten.’
She stays exactly where she is, squeezing her hands into fists as she waits for the door to open. For guns to be pointed and men to start shouting. It has been a long time since she didn’t mindlessly obey these people. Perhaps it will be interesting to see what happens next.
The monster’s silver eyes flicker in the direction of the cage door. A smile curves slowly across her mouth.
‘Time to go,’ she says . . .
Dreaming of Theo
‘What about this one?’
Caitlín O’Neal, my sixteen-year-old sister, twirled in front of me in the store and then waited expectantly.
‘It’s lovely,’ I said.
‘You’re not even looking. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out a dress that’ll drive Liam Walsh crazy.’
I couldn’t hold back a smile. ‘They’re all super cute – and so are you.’
Caitlín tossed her wavy red hair and pouted. ‘“Cute” might not be enough. This will be our first date, and I’ve been working on him for almost two months. Everything has to be perfect!’
I shook my head. ‘Two months? Getting desperate, little sister?’
‘He’s shy.’
‘And quite clearly,’ I said drily, ‘you’re not shy at all.’
She grinned and playfully pushed me. I grabbed my cell phone on impulse, snapping a picture of her as she laughed and tried to hide.
‘There,’ I said, unable to keep the satisfaction out of my voice. I turned the screen toward her. ‘Stunning. See?’
Her face suddenly fell, her moods as unpredictable as the Boston weather in April.
‘He’ll thank me for chasing him when he sees this dress. Right?’ Caitlín looked hopefully at me and I could see the vulnerability in her pretty green eyes.
I couldn’t tease her when she looked at me like that.
‘Cait, you look amazing in it. If Liam doesn’t fall dead at your feet due to your overwhelming beauty, I’ll kill him myself.’
Her face visibly paled. ‘Don’t say that.’
Oops.
Sometimes I almost forget that my sister is one of the only people – living people, anyway – who know about my true nature. About what I’ve become. ‘Hey, c’mon, it was just a joke . . .’
‘Well, it wasn’t funny.’ Caitlín walked back into the changing rooms. ‘I’ll see you out front in five.’
If I still needed to breathe, I would have chosen that moment to let out a huge sigh. I’m a vampire; did I mention that already? We don’t
need
to breathe, but I’m still new at this and old habits die hard. (No pun intended.)
I headed for the exit, making sure to avoid the mirrors that were positioned randomly throughout the store. If anyone caught sight of the fact that I don’t have a reflection – not since Theo Turned me, more than a year ago – I wouldn’t be able to play happy families with my sister anymore. There were a small number of people out there who
did
believe in vampires – in all kinds of monsters, actually – but they weren’t interested in making friends with us. That’s why they were called ‘hunters’. I had to be careful.
I glanced down at the carrier bag in my hand, wondering what on earth had possessed me to buy something so glamorous for myself. It wasn’t like I’d ever have the opportunity to wear it anywhere other than to one of Theo’s . . . gatherings. And the last thing I wanted was for my Maker to think I was trying to impress him.
And now Caitlín was mad at me.
I kicked a soda can and sulked while I waited for her. Who knew that dress shopping could be so fraught with danger?
‘So where to next?’ Caitlín asked, having decided to forgive me somewhere between making her purchase and joining me outside. ‘Coffee?’
‘That would be awesome,’ I said, smiling gratefully. Caitlín knows that caffeine is one of the few substances that can help keep the blood cravings at bay. It’s not foolproof – and it’s certainly no substitute for the (preferably warm) red stuff at least once a week – but it can take the edge off the need during those in-between days, dull the ache that causes vamps to freak out and go all bloodlusty.
Of course, that’s when my phone started ringing. I grimaced apologetically as I answered. Caller ID told me it was Theo and I never keep my Maker waiting. At least, not unless I’m intentionally trying to piss him off. Trust me; rather like the Incredible Hulk, you wouldn’t like Theo when he’s angry.
‘Why are you calling me?’ I asked, sounding as huffy as I felt. ‘You said I could take the whole day off with my sister. The night too.’
Hey, I said I wouldn’t keep him waiting. I never said anything about being polite. It was so rare that I could escape from all the vampire crap, I guarded those moments fiercely. Especially when I got to spend time with my favorite sister.
‘Ah, Moth,’ Theo replied, his voice as smooth as hot chocolate and velvet all rolled into one delicious package. ‘If I had more time or the inclination, I’d arrange a discussion with you about your lack of manners.’
I rolled my eyes and pantomimed sticking my fingers down my throat, making Caitlín laugh.
‘And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,’ he continued. ‘I can hear your sister laughing.’
I grinned. ‘Sorry.’
Theo growled.
‘I
said
I was sorry.’
Caitlín indicated that she was going to look in the window of the next store, leaving me to talk to my Maker in private. I wedged myself into the gap between buildings and tried to ignore the stink of cigarette butts and urine. Classy.
‘Theo, what do you want? We’re on a tight schedule.’ Which was true enough. Cait had to be home before curfew, or Dad and Sinéad, our older sister, would go ballistic. ‘Protective’ didn’t even begin to cover it.
‘I need you at Subterranean.’
‘Later tonight?’ I said, trying to keep the hopeful note out of my voice, even though it was pointless. If Theo wanted me at the club, I’d have to go to the stupid club any time he demanded it.
‘You have two hours.’
His voice was like stone, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try my best to weasel out of whatever he had in mind. I loved arguing with Theo. If there was ever an Olympic event created for arguing with authority figures, I’d win the gold medal. Obviously I couldn’t win silver, considering my near-fatal allergy to that particular metal since becoming one of the so-called undead.
Not to mention the fact that I didn’t like taking second place to anyone when it came to Theo.
‘But this has been arranged for ages,’ I said, forcing myself not to whine.
‘Marie,’ he said, in his favorite no-nonsense tone. ‘We both know that you’ll do what I ask of you in the end, so why do we have to go through the same argument?’
‘I don’t know . . . Because it’s fun?’
‘I look forward to seeing you.’
‘Hey, I didn’t agree to—’
But Theo had already disconnected. I hated it when he did that.
Scuffing my feet along the sidewalk and dodging other late-night shoppers, I wandered back over to Caitlín and nudged her. I could see her reflection in the window, seemingly standing alone with the traffic driving past behind her. Behind
us
. I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. It made me feel more like I was actually there, despite the fact that the tinted glass told me otherwise.
Caitlín turned to stare at me, trying not to look spooked by my missing reflection – but I’d already seen the fear lingering in her troubled eyes. I could hardly blame her. It even freaked
me
out, and yet I’m the one who doesn’t exist in mirrors or on film. Occasionally – very occasionally – I would catch a glimpse of myself in water. Like a shadow-girl, all long black curls and corpse-pale skin. But those moments were becoming so rare as to be almost non-existent. Like me. At least, like the
reflection
of me.
Did it mean that I’m not a real person? That I’m evil?
Part of me wanted to ask my Maker any and all of these questions, especially during the times when I caught those dream-like suggestions of my image in puddles – or even in bath water. But I was afraid that Theo would tell me I only had a few more weeks or months left before all signs of my reflection disappeared entirely – erased, like my life; perhaps even my soul. I wanted to know the answers to these things, and yet most of the time I chose to live in ignorance.
It was less painful that way.
Shivering, I pulled Caitlín into a proper hug. I wrapped my arms around her and held her as tightly as I dared. This was one of the reasons that my sister was so important to me. When I looked at her, I saw an idealized image of myself reflected back in her loving gaze. She didn’t judge me. She certainly didn’t see me as a monster.
Caitlín
was my mirror.
‘I have to go,’ I said, burying my face in Cait’s hair and forcing myself to inhale a lungful of her familiar apple-scented shampoo. It grounded me. Made me feel sane and halfway human.
‘I figured.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘It’s OK, I get it.’ She pulled away and examined my face. Lines of concern made her eyes look way older than her sixteen years. Caitlín had lost a lot. We all had, after Mom died. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s him I’m mad at.’
I steeled myself for the anti-Theo mantra.
‘He treats you like dirt.’
‘He doesn’t,’ I said, too quickly. ‘And you shouldn’t say this stuff about him. You’re lucky you even know the truth about me.’
‘Yeah, “lucky” because he didn’t mind-rape me and steal my memories.’
I pursed my lips and tried to think calm thoughts. I didn’t know if I was getting upset because she was right or because I just didn’t want her to be. ‘Seriously, Cait. If you ever see Theo again . . . don’t say anything like that. Nothing that’ll upset him. Please?’