Once Bitten, No Longer Shy - Julie Steimle (dark books to read .txt) 📗

air he would destroy the documents. Of course they did not believe or understand that magic could be interlaced in the threads of the paper. They were scientists.

“Do they need to be…uh, borrowed for a time from the library?” Meaning stolen. Troy was blown that a leader of a group called the Holy Seven would even think about stealing. Then again, he was Rick’s best friend, and rumor had it the pair were a couple hellions when they were younger. At least, that was what Tom had said (with pure glee) after he found out. Troy nodded again. He desperately needed them.

“Ok.” Andy then dug out his cell phone from a pocket and made a call. The second the other side picked up, he said, “Hey, Swift. Troy needs a few documents that he had left at the library last night. He may have left them hastily. They are old and fragile, but critical to his research. You know the kind. Can you go fetch them?”

Whoever Swift was, he replied something which made Andy snicker.

“Alright, I’ll call her. She’s probably awake now. I keep forgetting we are all half asleep. It just might take her a bit to get babysitter at such short notice.” Andy then ended the call and started another one.

As he made the second call, Troy saw Rick gesture to him to join him in the hallway.

“Do you want a shower?” Rick asked, eyeing him oddly. “You know, to wash off dead skin and uh… moisturize. I’ve got some aloe lotion you might want to use.”

At first insulted, Troy glanced at his skin then stared. He looked like a cooked lobster with leprosy.

“Use cold water when you shower,” Rick hissed. “You look really burnt.”

Nodding, Troy staggered into the bathroom, wishing he did not have to take advice from a werewolf.

But before he went in, Andy called out, “Hey! Where did you leave those manuscripts?”

Swaying on his feet, Troy mustered up a mental picture and said, “The basement of the library, just outside the old records office on a shelf under an atlas I was using for a desk. If they have not discovered the break-in yet, as we did make a mess, they might have overlooked them. But I think that would be the first place checked, so don’t count on it.”

“Don’t worry,” Andy said with a grin. “Jessica will get the documents you need.”

“Jessica?” Troy was confused. He did not know all these people.

“My wife,” Andy replied, grinning. “She’s a police detective.”

“With a baby and on maternity leave,” Rick muttered walking to the kitchen.

Yet, Andy only grinned wider. “That will only make it easier for her.”

This made no sense to Troy.

Andy went back to his phone call and Troy went back into the bathroom.

When he stripped, a lot of ash came out of his clothes like flakes. So did some hair. Troy noticed that every bit of skin that had been exposed by the sun was burnt, but the rest of his skin which had also sluffed off, left a layer of pink, new flesh as if he had been reborn. It was not nicer skin, but it had a certain translucence to it that was definitely vampiric. And when he looked into the mirror he saw a shadow of himself in the glass, like a watermark in paper. It was startling. He waved his hand in front of it, seeing that watermark ripple along the glass, showing mostly the door behind him. He was not all vampire, and yet he was—physically. Something in him was allowing a shadow of a reflection to remain.

Cold water. Troy remembered what Rick had said. And he was grateful for that reminder when he had turned on the hot and tested it. He felt it burn ten times worse against his hand than usual. He quickly flipped the lever to cold and climbed in. Amazingly, it did not feel cold at all. The water was cool and soothing against his skin. And after thorough wash-down, he was even more grateful for the lotion.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Troy opened the door to look for something to wear as he did not want to put on his ash covered clothes on again. Rick did say he was going to provide something.

In front of the door on the floor was a shirt and pair of pajama bottoms. The lights were off in the apartment and all the rooms had closed doors. After putting those two things on, Troy tiptoed into the dim living room where there were blankets and a pillow on one of the couches for him. Next to it on the coffee table, Troy saw a plate with cinnamon toast and milk, clearly set out for him. On a napkin next to the plate, scrawled in Rick’s handwriting it said:

 

When we all wake, we’ll go see Will McAllister together. Hanz will want to see him, and you need to.

Rick

 

 Will McAllister, the doctor who knows more about the vampire condition than anyone? He had to be his friends’ best kept secret. Troy wondered bitterly why no one had introduced him to the guy before. The doctor could have helped with his research.

However, exhausted, Troy picked up the milk to see if he could still taste it or even be able to drink it without getting sick. He had suspected he might not be able to drink or eat anything but blood. However, when he sipped the milk, which he noticed had been warmed, he was surprised at how good it tasted. Gulping it down, Troy immediately felt satisfied and incredibly sleepy. He crawled into the blankets on the couch and crashed into slumber.

Everyone was awake before he was. But that made total sense. They were merely sleepy from an all-nighter. He, however, had been tortured and changed entirely. Rick was out making lunch for the lot of them, chatting in whispers to Art, reassuring him that vampirism was choice and not a disease that could be caught like the flu.

“…I am sure what he’s got is not entirely vampirism. You saw how he withstood sunlight.”

“Yes, but he is changed, right? You did say he would have a constant blood lust—”

“It’s more like an addiction,” Hanz interjected. “One which can easily be controlled if he never drinks human blood. No taste ever, no desire. Eve’s dealt with the same thing. I’m sure he can handle it.”

Rick nodded. “Well, he drank all the milk.”

“Milk helps,” Hanz said with an earnest nod. “It has all the proteins. It’s safe.”

“How did you find that out?” Andy asked him.

“Her mother told me,” Hanz said. “Eve is way into dairy products—which increased when she started to feel the bloodlust at fourteen. She ate a lot more ice-cream, and she got into hot toddies. She’s big into cocoa, and she loves it when I make it for her with lots of cream. I think it is one of the best psychological ways to cope with the craving. It’s liquid and has substance to it.”

Troy stepped into the doorway and cleared his throat.

They all turned. Art blushed.

But Rick smiled. “You’re finally awake. Good. Are you hungry?”

Nodding, Troy said with a look to Hanz, “Will I be able to eat anything besides milk?”

Hanz shrugged. “Let’s test it out. Eve eats everything I do except food with garlic.”

It hurt to laugh, but Troy did as he realized he was being compared to that death angel. But since she was the only a partial vampire they knew (as they did not know any other person even close to being in his condition as an unwilling vampire), she was what they had as a standard.

Rick shoved over a ham and egg sandwich with onions, pickles, lettuce and mustard. And looking at the food on the table, it was the same as they were eating. Picking it up, Troy bit into it.

His mouth did not hate it. It tasted good. His stomach accepted it when he swallowed. And when he finished it, filling the hole in belly, he did not feel any immediate reaction to the food he had just eaten. And he enjoyed the lemonade which Andy had nudged toward him.

“Can we safely say you can eat as normal, but you have to be careful of garlic from now on?” Rick asked, peeking at him when Troy wiped the mustard from his top lip.

Troy nodded. “So far, so good.”

“But keep an eye on him if he barfs it up later,” Art murmured, staying behind Hanz.

“Alright,” Rick clapped his hands together. He looked to Art first, “Is there somewhere you need to be?”

Art nodded then shook his head. “Define the word ‘need’. I don’t really need to be anywhere. I was visiting my aunt who doesn’t really want me around. Can I be of help? Or am I in the way?”

Gesturing to Hanz, Rick nodded. “No, you are not in the way. We can use you. Hanz is going to need a place to crash at—”

“My suitcase is at Daniel’s apartment,” Hanz interjected. “I left it there.”

Nodding, Rick chuckled. “Ok. But I’ve got to get back to Brown University. I’ve got classes I can’t afford to ditch, and I think you need to help Troy get connected with William.”

Hanz nodded, glancing to Troy again. “Yeah. Right. Sure. But I need my suitcase. I don’t have a change of clothes.”

“So your things need to come New York,” Rick murmured out loud, thinking.

“Can’t they just stay here in your apartment?” Andy asked, glancing around at the penthouse.

Troy was thinking the same thing but was glad someone else had said it.

“No.” Rick shook his head. “I’m sorry. Um, Dad’s coming back from Europe and, uh, I think he’s bringing in guests from abroad. I’m crossing my fingers about this so… no.”

“Abroad as in France?” Andy’s eyebrows lifted.

Rick nodded. “I’m hoping. And I don’t want to make it bad for them. You understand.”

Troy raised his eyebrows. Was Rick discriminating against him all of a sudden?

“Got it,” Andy said. He looked to Troy. “We’ll get you set up in some place safe here in New York. In the meantime, I’ve decided the Seven will have to stake out your university for any vampires looking for you. You can’t go back until—”

“I was only staying in that town to use the library because of their old manuscripts,” Troy said. “I can finish my PhD from anywhere. I had classes, but I could also do them online.”

Nodding with appreciation, Andy looked to Rick. “Ok then. We’ll get your place cleared out—in the daytime of course, so we don’t get followed. You stay here in New York City with Hanz and Art. Art’s hostel room might not be big enough, so… we should get a place set up—”

“I have just the place,” Rick said as if having an epiphany, nodding to himself. It was kind of annoying to Troy. The guy always had a solution, and it probably included the influence of his vast fortune.

Andy side glanced at him funny. “Does your family own a lot of property here in New York City?”

Rick nodded, still thinking. “Several apartments, including whole buildings. I think we even own a block somewhere under a different name. The building I can put them in is under Henry’s name. It used to be under Lewis’s.”

Troy did not know this Henry, but he had a feeling Andy did. Andy seemed amused at the mention of the name. Troy did recall who Lewis was though. Lewis was the Deacon family’s old steward, the one who had been murdered by an SRA hunter using a garden claw back when Rick was thirteen after a dangerous school transfer. The fact that Rick had a steward was weird enough.

“Will Henry check in on them?” Andy asked.

Shaking his head, Rick smirked. “No need.”

Art raised his hand. “Uh, not to be a kill-joy to your plans, but I don’t intend to stay in New York for very long. I have to get back home eventually.”

“Oh,” Hanz pulled back and blinked at him.