Checkmate

𝐟 𝐨 𝐮 𝐫

04 | Nox

If anyone were to get stabbed and take it silently, it would be the Nox Toussaint.

Zara would never be stabbed in the first place.  She would be able to prevent it before it happened.  Some fifth sense of hers allowed her to read everyone in the room and know what their intentions, behavior, and personality were.

Mackenzie was more the yeller.  He would be so mad that somebody had dared to stab him that countries all around the world would feel the heat of his wrath.

And then there was the every lovely Kaspian Auclair, who would ask the person to pull out the dagger, and of course, they would.  He had the more quiet rage that was evident any time he was upset.

No... Nox was the only person to silently slip to the ground after being impaled by a knife.

As soon as she felt the shift in her body- the solid silver blade in her skin- she reached out.  Perhaps it was an instinct- she wanted to touch him, or perhaps it was because he was the only person in front of her that she could grab, (Nox would definitely go for the second one) but when Nox reached out and grabbed the bicep of Mackenzie Rousseau, it was the last thing she could do.

The silver-dipped dagger had disintegrated into her skin and Nox was already feeling the sickening effects of the shiny metal.

Classy as always, she sank to the floor in powerful silence as she watched Mackenzie turn around and stare at her in horror.

Then she was scooped up in his arms.

Maybe she protested and hollered against him holding her or maybe she just wanted to feel his skin against hers.

She didn't remember.  

She didn't remember the feeling of his toned chest or his soft silk shirt.

Her brain was foggy, and her stomach felt as if it would drop out beneath her.  As Mackenzie shifted as he moved with the expert speed of an 'old' vampire, Nox groaned.  Every small movement hurt.

At some point, she would have to hurl.

"Don't die on me Nox," he murmured against her porcelain skin.  "Please God don't let her die."

Those words.  Those six words formed together by twenty-six letters of the alphabet were the ones that will stick with her for the rest of her life.

Then everything went black.

And Mackenzie Rousseau let out a scream mixed with anguish and frustration as he watched the tiny vampire with striking red hair go limp in his arms.

+++

The small girl awoke in a secluded room with pristine white sheets, a thick comforter, and a cold compress laid across her forehead.

"Cá bhfuil mé?" she called out into the silence.

As soon as her voice struck the air movement occurred.

Her door opened and streams of doctors and witches came in.  Touching her body and prodding her head to make sure she was sane.  Her vitals were checked, temperature, and there was even a hair follicle test made.