Harlow stumbled as he made it through the wreckage, but caught his footing at the last second. Laying Foxx out on the floor, he crouched down and removed the vampire’s chest holster, ruined pea coat, followed by his other thinner coats, sweater, and overalls, all the way down to his last pair of thermal underwear. There were soot smudges on the vampire’s face, his hair damp due to the snow, but the only visible wound on him seemed to be the one caused by the spike.
But it was…enough. It was bad enough. Lightly with his fingers, he brushed aside the torn fabric. Not that he needed to do it to see…the hole in Foxx’s chest was gaping. Skin torn, Harlow could see damaged muscle, but not much else through all the blood. While the wound wasn’t dead through his heart…it was close enough that there was no doubt in Harlow’s mind that Foxx’s heart had been damaged.
Leaning down, he rested his head over the vampire’s chest and listened.
Nothing…he heard nothing. Not a single beat, even as his own heart raced. The vampire was no longer even breathing.
“Fuck!” Harlow cursed. Placing his hands on the vampire’s chest, he began chest compressions. “Come on, Foxx, you little shit.” He kept pressing, randomly stopping to listen. After the fifth time and still nothing, he let out a string of curses. He pulled out his knife and sliced it through his wrist to bleed into the vampire’s gaping chest wound. “Come on!”
He let a bit drip into the hole, before prying Foxx’s mouth open and placing his bleeding wrist there. Seconds ticked by, but still no reaction…
“Foxx, I swear if you fucking die on me, I’m going to murder your ass,” he roared. Keeping his wrist pressed to his lips, he slammed his other fist onto the vampire’s chest again and again, causing Foxx’s body to jerk, blood splattering over him from the wound. “Fucking wake up!”
But…there was nothing. Harlow stopped, and just remained crouched there staring, his own shaking growing worse. But then…he felt it—faint movement against his wrist.
“That’s it, Foxx. Drink, you fucker!” Harlow growled, pressing his wrist more firmly against the vampire’s mouth. He hissed as Foxx finally latched on, tongue licking the wound, but his fangs didn’t pierce. “Come on, Foxx, fucking bite me. You know you’ve been wanting to!”
“Fuck,” he swore again when he realized either the vampire wasn’t fully conscious yet, or was too weak to bite. Cupping the back of Foxx’s head, he slammed his wrist up, grimacing as the fangs punctured his skin. It took a few moments before he finally began to feel the vampire draw from him. “That’s it, Foxx…”
He leaned down to listen, keeping his wrist in place. Upon hearing the first heartbeat that wasn’t his own, all the weird symptoms Harlow had been experiencing seemed to fade away.
Harlow sat back on his ass, his shoulders sagging as he began to run his hand through Foxx’s black curls.
Foxx suddenly gasped, eyes snapping open. The vampire’s body began to tremble, even as his chest started to rise and fall—the man finally breathing again. Harlow met Foxx’s hazy gaze. The vampire’s eyes were filled with pain and confusion.
“Don’t worry about anything, Foxx, just drink.” Even as he said that, moments later he felt Foxx’s fangs leave his skin, the vampire licking at the wound. “Foxx, what are you doing? You need more.”
The vampire shook his head. “Taking…too…much…” Foxx’s words came out soft and weak.
“I’ll decide when it’s too much.”
The vampire rolled his eyes.
Harlow snorted and pulled his wrist away. Foxx’s saliva would heal the slice he created enough for him to not have to worry about bleeding out. “You must be feeling better, if you’re already giving me attitude.” Looking around quickly, he glanced back down at the vampire. “Foxx, I know you’re weak, but is anyone else in the area? Do you hear anything?”
Foxx frowned, remaining silent for a few moments before saying, “Fake heartbeats…same ones...fake.”
“Yeah, nice to know our trap is still in place. I have some bandages and gauze. Will patching you up help or cause more issues?”
Harlow wasn’t too sure about caring for an injured vampire. Most of the time, he was the one who put the injuries there, so there had been no reason to help.
“Get…in—” Foxx gasped in pain, taking a few shallow breaths before saying, “—way…”
“It will get in the way?”
Foxx nodded.
“Okay, no bandages or gauze. And you can explain later why it doesn’t help.” Harlow glanced at the light shining in through the giant holes in the house. “The sun’s up, so I need you to stay here. Will you live long enough for me to grab your sunsuit and come back?”
Foxx blinked, brow furrowing. Harlow wasn’t sure how to take the look. Was the vampire not sure, or…?
“Come on, Foxx. I need an answer.”
“I’ll…survive…”
“Good. Stay here. Stay awake,” Harlow ordered as he stood up.
His vision swayed a bit, making him think Foxx had probably been right about the taking too much thing. Or was it the concussion? One or the other.
