29. In Your Palm

Harlow followed behind Foxx, eyes transfixed on the vampire. The man was skipping towards the door that, according to the plans they'd seen, led to a large conference room. Tommy Gun in hand, hood up, Foxx looked like some sort of twisted nightmare-induced teddy bear from hell. From his bear ears to his booted feet, the vampire was blood red.

With each step he took forward, Harlow oddly found his heart beating faster and faster, as they neared the last of the so called ‘mafia'. But the fear…that Wes accused him of having…that was not what this was.

Elated…he felt elated. Like he'd just had the fight of his life and won. He was excited about what was coming—the violence. Even if he wasn't the one doing it.

More than that…for the first time since he'd met Foxx, he felt it again, the feeling that he was in the presence of a very dangerous individual. Fuck, was he excited.

"I'm here!!" Foxx chimed with a giggle as he kicked the frosted glass door. It shattered on impact.

Shots went off instantly, but the sound of Foxx's Tommy Gun drowned out the rest. Screams came from beyond the door, but Harlow had stayed back so he couldn't see exactly what was happening.

As the loud cries continued, he quickly came to the realization that the vampire hadn't aimed his shots high. Foxx wanted to cause pain… A shot to the head wouldn't have accomplished that, as a lot of times they didn't remain conscious afterwards.

He frowned, tilting his head when the screams suddenly cut off. There was this odd thudding sound that happened at the same time, as if multiple things had fallen.

"Ohh, ahh. It hurts so much, doesn't it?" Foxx mocked with a laugh.

The man skipped over the broken glass into the room, leaving the doorway clear for Harlow to enter. So, he did. But he found himself coming to a complete stop only a few steps inside, a shiver running down his spine as he caught sight of the other occupants. There were over twenty kneeling, bleeding vampires, and as he eyed them, they stared back. Their mouths moved, but no sound came out, and their eyes were fearful. Harlow's gaze flicked from them to Foxx.

"Which first…? Which first?" His partner tossed the Tommy Gun aside and started to walk.

Meandering around the room, hands folded behind his back, Foxx hummed happily, like he was just on an evening stroll. Chairs had been lined up and stacked along the right wall out of the way, and whatever conference table there had been was not there now, so the man had plenty of room to wander.

Foxx walked through the kneeling men and stopped by a pale, black-haired man who looked at least thirty, and seemed to be in a suit that was of higher quality than anyone else's in the room.

"Boss first!" The vampire giggled as he started to walk backwards, hands still behind his back. "It's only right that you go down first. You're the oldest, the most…ha ‘powerful'. I figure…it's the best way to show your dumb sheep how fucked they all are."

Now a bit further away from the so-called ‘mafia' leader, Foxx suddenly spun toward Harlow with a wide dimpled smile on his freckled, blood splattered face.

"Harlow, get this. I was wrong. It's not that he had just come of the right age to make zombies, it's that he's weak. The man is five hundred, and yet he can't handle making more than a few dozen badly put together zombies." That wide smile turned vicious. "How pathetic," Foxx ground out, the seething anger he'd seen before returning.

As Foxx had been angry. He'd been furious that Hanes had died because a kid had lied. Angry that a kid died because he'd chosen to do something stupid. While the vampire had held back in that moment as he'd stayed by the dying man's side, Harlow had seen the rage. So much rage, the vampire had begun to tremble with it.

Foxx was truly…breathtaking in his fury.

Smirking, Harlow chuckled. "So physically, he is likely stronger than any human, stronger than I am…stronger than Hanes was… But as a vampire, he is nothing?"

Foxx sneered. "Worse than nothing. Daydric would scoff at such a pathetic man being of his line. Such an insult." The man spun again. "Stand up," he ordered.

Whatever Foxx had done to bring the vampires to their knees, to keep them silent, he must have pulled back enough to let just the nameless so-called mafia boss move. Because the black-haired man suddenly stumbled to his feet, glancing around rapidly as if looking for an escape.

"You wanted to be a leader, to be the one in charge, to feel powerful. Well, show them all what you can do, Mr. Mafia Boss," Foxx said with a mocking laugh.

The man's eyes locked on Foxx and he roared, his gun swinging in his partner's direction, but a shot never went off. Before the vampire even had time to pull the trigger, Foxx was there, inches away from him, the man's hand and gun falling to the floor in a shower of blood.

As blood began to coat the ground, the vampire stared in shock, seeming as if his body hadn't even caught on to what had happened…and…then he began to scream.

That scream cut off on a croak when Foxx seized him by the throat, the smaller vampire hovering off the ground just enough to hold the taller man off his feet.

"I said show them what you can do, and instead, you raise a gun?! Are you human or a vampire?!" Foxx roared, before shoving him away from himself. The other vampire went flying. Slamming into the wall, he left a bloody trail as he slid to the ground. "Stand. Up!" Foxx demanded.

Harlow licked his lips, eyes trailing the tight lines of Foxx's shoulders. The tremble was back. The vampire's fury had barely been unleashed.

The mafia boss shook his head, blood starting to drip from his temple, but didn't do much else.

"I said STAND UP!" Foxx snarled. "Fight, run, I don't care, just do something, you fucking pathetic piece of shit!"

The vampire's gaze flicked up to Foxx, and then towards Harlow, before he finally moved. The man bolted towards him, but then again, Harlow was standing in the doorway still.

Probably no more than five feet away from him, the vampire dropped back to his knees. Harlow stared into the man's brown eyes, smiling as he watched his fear grow.

"Pathetic…" Foxx mused, before turning around to face him and the so-called ‘mafia' boss.

Foxx's eyes were more than shining now. Pupils blown wide, they were glowing, as if electrified by whatever he was doing. Power…he was…consuming power, the life energy that Foxx had told him about. His brat was even older than he thought, wasn't he?

"So pathetic. Can't you do any better?! Struggle! Try! I barely took anything. Your energy is so weak. Barely a buzz compared to what I have tasted before."

Foxx meandered forward. The anger he'd seen before was hidden by a calm demeanor, but Foxx's eyes still gave him away. And when Foxx was only a few steps away, the black-haired vampire stood up, took one step before going down again.

Foxx giggled. "Aww, is that all you can do with the bit of freedom I gave you? Can't you do better? Won't you try to do more?"

Again, Foxx must have pulled back because the man popped up, took one more step…and then was back on the floor.

Foxx was…playing with him. Like a cat taunts a mouse. Releasing him again and again, acting as if freedom was right there, only to pounce on him each and every time. And Foxx kept playing, inch by inch, until the man was kneeling right before Harlow.

Behind the so-called mafia boss now, the vampire leaned down and whispered, "Come on, you can do it. Struggle." Foxx straightened with a huff when the man didn't move an inch. "How…disappointing." The vampire met his gaze, his eyes still glowing. "Do you want to finish him off, Harlow? He's the one who killed Hanes, I can smell his blood on him."

Did he want to kill him? ‘Avenge' Hanes? Harlow eyed the kneeling man, and felt no great urge to, which had him frowning. Too many times lately, he'd had the urge to kill for even minor offenses towards…Foxx.

What…made Foxx so different? Hanes… He had known the man for over a decade, yet had no urge to kill his killer. Not that he'd ever been the avenging type. Harlow was more one for dispensing payback, but that was less about righting some wrong and more about releasing pent up anger on people who deserved it…or didn't deserve it…he wasn't always picky.

But with Foxx, it was different. The ones who had hurt him, Harlow wanted them all dead, and he wanted to be the one who did it, or at the very least, be the one who caused it to happen. Because Foxx was… Fucking dammit, Foxx was his.

Ahh, his brain was so fucked up. Oh well… it"s not like he could fix it. Harlow smirked—that was his psychiatrist's problem. "He's all yours, Foxx."

Foxx's head tilted. "Okay."

Without pause, or his eyes ever leaving Harlow, Foxx shoved his hand through the man's back and out of his chest. The leader's head and whole body sagged down, held up by the arm that was still piercing through him.

It was a sight that should have drawn most of his gaze, but it didn't. All Harlow could focus on was Foxx's hand and face. Because sitting in the palm of that small delicate clawed hand, right in front of Harlow, as if being presented to him, was a still beating heart. And gore and blood aside, the smile that came over Foxx's face as he continued to look up at Harlow, could only be described as angelic.

Letting out a shuddered laugh, Harlow crossed his arms and said, "I don't think anyone has offered me a heart before, Foxx."

Foxx blinked, glanced down and then started to giggle. "Well, it wasn't an offer, but if it's your style, keep it. I'm sure I have a jar somewhere at home for you to store it in."

For a brief second, he considered it, before shaking his head with another laugh. "Foxx, I think I'd be fitting the psycho stereotype a bit too much if I kept it."

"Trueee," Foxx snickered. That angelic smile turned demonic as the vampire crushed the heart in his hand. The organ burst, tissue seeping from between his fingers.

Yanking his hand free, Foxx didn't even glance down at the mafia boss as he flopped over dead. The vampire's attention was solely on him, and…Harlow liked that it was…

Tone sweet as can be, Foxx chimed, "If you change your mind…let me know, as there are plenty more to go around." He was so calm and unbothered, as if he hadn't just ripped someone's heart out and then offered Harlow more.

Harlow smirked, but said nothing about the offer, waving him on to continue his fun.

Foxx's smile widened, and without saying anything else to him, he spun around. Blood covered hands behind his back again, Foxx started to skip towards the others, asking with an excited laugh, "Who wants to go next?!"

His sadistic ball of sunshine was back in full force, offering him the hearts of others…but the only heart Harlow was interested in was the one beating in Foxx's very chest. It was something he wasn't sure he could allow himself to want, mainly as he wasn't sure what he wanted with it. The only thing he did know was that he didn't want to keep it in a jar.