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

I intend to go abroad.”

They said something.

“No.” Hanz shook his head. “I am not quitting my med training. Rick Deacon is going to help me arrange some kind of traveling position. Or I’ll join the army.”

They responded with alarm and Hanz laughed, coloring. He shook his head, though tears were forming in his eyes.

“I won’t do anything drastic. I promise.”

Art came out of his room looking a tad frazzled. He listened in on the rest of Hanz’s conversation, waiting for him to finish his call.

“Yeah, I’ll notify you immediately if any sign of her comes up. Daniel Smith and Peter McCabe have a theory that might help me find Eve faster.” Hanz then heaved a heavy sigh, struggling to contain his emotions. “We just have to end the curse. That’s all.”

“Curse?” Art mouthed, peeking once to Troy who shrugged. He wasn’t sure how much Art had been told about demons and curses and things. In fact, he was not sure how much they should tell the guy.

“I’ll call you when I get more news,” Hanz said. “Bye.” He then pressed the End button and set his cellphone down on the counter. The three men exchanged looks.

“All good at home?” Art asked, raising his eyebrows.

Hanz nodded. “Yeah. I just had to let them know where I was.”

“They didn’t know?” Art stared at him, surprised.

Shaking his head, Hanz dragged out a stool from the island counter in the kitchen and sat on the edge of it. “Nope. I left on impulse. It felt important to be here.” His gaze went introspective, his eyes peeking to Troy for a moment. He then said, “Do you need to call anybody?”

Troy chuckled, shaking his head. “Nope. My mom and dad are both vampires, and I’m not really close to my relatives. It’s just me and the friends you’ve already met.”

“Really?” Art seemed stunned.

With a nod, Troy sighed. “Yeah.”

That idea leveled Art for a moment, as if he had back home one of those big fat Greek families with a dozen male cousins named Nick and a grandmother who could not speak English. Art wobbled there then got his bearings again by turning to Hanz whom he could relate to, and said, “We need to bless this apartment.”

Hanz nodded in agreement.

“What’s this?” Troy perked up, wondering what the guy meant.

Hanz’s cheeks went a little pink as he asked, “Are you religious in any way?”

Blinking at him, Troy peered at Art then Hanz with a more critical eye. Together they painted an improbable image in his head, one where he expected both young men to be wearing dark suits with white shirts and name tags on them. Of course they were older than the pairs he had seen walking around with backpacks and Books of Mormon in their hands. But he decided to stick with the evangelical guess.

Troy said, “My parents were agnostic before they became vampires. But to be honest, I’ve seen more demons in my lifetime than anything that could be called an angel—until last night. So I really don’t know much about God.”

Both Hanz and Art exchanged looks.

“We definitely need to bless this apartment,” Art said.

“And how does that work?” Troy asked. If it included holy water, he wondered if it would affect him.

“It’s mostly a prayer,” Hanz said to Troy. “If you don’t want to participate, you don’t have to. But if you don’t mind, could you just sit quietly while we do it?”

Shrugging, Troy watched as the two men knelt next to the couch, bowed their heads and closed their eyes, folding their arms in a solemn, serious posture. Troy knelt next to them, copying them. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Then Art asked Hanz to pray first.

Hanz’s prayer did not sound like any rote sort of thing which could be found in any sort of book for priests. His words were from the top of his mind, genuine, open, and sincere—and fresh with the concerns Art and what Hanz guessed Troy might have regarding their new residence. Hanz included in the prayer a supplication for safety from ‘dangerous personages which intend to harm them’. He prayed for their health and also for strength to overcome temptations. He also prayed for the ‘Spirit of the Lord’ to ‘abide in their home’ to give them ‘direction and peace’. Troy had never heard anything like it before in his life. And when Hanz was done, Art prayed.

Art prayed in his own words and expressed his own concerns, which most especially was to keep them safe from harm as well as for their apartment to be a haven. He also prayed for them both to have strength to resist temptation and not give in to the ‘enticings of the devil’. Troy wondered if Art was hinting that Troy might one day be tempted to drink his blood. But Art also prayed for peace and understanding. When he finished the prayer, both religious men lifted their eyes and looked to Troy.

Were they asking him to pray too?

“Um… Dear God?” Troy started, feeling really awkward. “I’m still not sure it is a good idea that I’m still alive. But, since I am, can you bless this place so everyone living here will feel safe?” He paused. “Uh, Amen.”

Art and Hanz shrugged as they exchanged looks.

Hanz patted Troy on the shoulder and said, “It’s a good start.”

“So…” Troy said as they all got to their feet. “You’re church-going kind of people, huh?”

Art and Hanz both nodded.

“And we go to the same church as Will,” Hanz added. “If you are interested.”

“Woah.” Art stared at Hanz, surprised and please. “So that doctor is a member of the Church?”

It amused Troy that they called it ‘the Church’. He could hear that capital C.

Hanz replied, nodding. “Yep. Eve’s mom is a member also. I think the only reason the rest of her family has not joined is because of Eve. I don’t think they want to join if she can’t.”

“Eve can’t join your church?” Troy was appalled. It sounded prejudiced.

With a shrug, Hanz said, “Can a demon be baptized into a church?”

Art stared, blinking into space as the idea sort of pounced on him like a ferret. He had forgotten Eve was a demon, while at the same time he recalled that she was now a death angel. How did that work anyway? In Troy’s experience, supernatural beings in some cases seemed more human than humans.

So Troy retorted, “Why not?”

Such a genuine smile reached Hanz’s eyes. He nodded sadly. “I know. You and I have seen too much of that other world to dismiss someone as irredeemable. But…”

Troy felt sick inside, indignant really for all those ghoulies he grew up with. So many of them could not help being born half-something or other. And so many were just plain cursed. This was discrimination. “But what?”

“Eve is the most dangerous demon of her generation,” Hanz said in a low voice. “And we have no precedent for baptism of someone who is not even human. I mean… it was explained to me this way. You don’t baptize those who don’t need it.”

Don’t need it? This left Troy confused. “Does she have to be baptized to join your religion?” Troy asked.

“Yes,” Art said.

Troy was even more confused.

“It’s not a club,” Art explained, shaking his head.

“Eve can attend church with me, but that is not the same as being a full member,” Hanz explained.

Troy was still confused. Of course he never really went to church, any church, so he did not know how it worked for most faiths.

“So what are you? Evangelists?” Troy finally asked.

Art and Hanz exchanged another look. As Art was about to say, someone opened the door and said in a female voice, “Knock-knock.”

Surprised, all three men looked.

Silvia stood in the doorway with Randon. In her arms was a suitcase… which upon seeing, Hanz sighed with relief and marched over to retrieve. “Thank you!”

She grinned back at him, pleased with herself.

Randon carried in a box, jerking his head towards the hallway. “There’s more stuff down in the car. If you three can help us haul it up, it will save us time.”

Troy and Art both jumped up from the couch to help.

All of them went up and down the elevator for most of Troy’s things. Much of his belongings had a garlic after-smell, which after a few trips with them made Troy’s sinuses stuff up and sneeze.

“I guess this means we are doing laundry,” Art muttered when blankets and clothes were brought in. He took them to the washer and drier which were in a closet just under the stairs—a rather convenient amenity to the apartment. It was also good that Troy’s laundry detergent arrived. Troy agreed to let Art handle the laundry as he could no longer get near the stuff. They also opened the apartment window to let in fresh air as the rest needed to air out.

“We didn’t have time to wash anything,” Silvia said, ducking impishly between her shoulders as she set more next to the washer where Art already dumped in a load of blankets. “The plan was just to get your stuff out before nightfall. Howie paid for the place to get cleaned, so no worries. He’s handling the lease also.”

Troy colored. He really had not wanted Rick to get so involved. He really had not wanted to owe that werewolf so much.

“By the way, how did you two get in here?” Troy asked, one eye on Silvia.

“Oh, I used to live here with Audry,” Silvia said brightly.

Hanz and Troy stared. “What?”

Art blinked, having no clue who Audry was.

Nodding, Silvia went about putting things away.

Sighing, Troy nodded. “Of course. That’s why this place smells like you.”

“Does it?” Randon sniffed the air. Then he sniffed Silvia’s hair. He grinned, snuggling a little closer with a peck on her cheek.

“So those candles in the bathroom are yours?” Art pointed to the hallway.

“Did I leave some?” Silvia went straight to the bathroom. “Oh! I did!”

“Well, we did move you two out of here pretty fast.” Randon followed her. “Tricia just showed up and startled everybody.”

“True.” Silvia laughed. “What a frightful memory. She nearly scared the pee out of Audry’s cousin.”

“Good thing Audry had that gun,” Randon murmured.

“Gun?” Art said, looking winded. All three men were wondering what happened which would require Audry to need a gun.

Laughing, seeing his expression, Silvia replied, “It was a tranquilizer gun. Audry is a full-on gun-control, vegan gal usually. But she is into animal rescue, and she owns a few licensed trank-guns for her work.”

“Saved our skin,” Randon murmured, nodding. He then went down for more stuff.

“I take it this Tricia was a dangerous person,” Art carefully said.

Silvia merely nodded as if it were nothing, pulling clothes out of the boxes she had brought. She offered to finish the laundry, sorting out the colors before Art shoved them all together. “Sure. She was a witch from my coven.” Then she paused as an afterthought, “Oh, and she was trying to kill me.”

All three men stared.

Randon called from the hallway near the elevator. “She’s in prison now. Don’t worry.”

They exchanged looks.

However, after Randon came up with another load of Troy’s things (this time from his kitchen), another person showed up outside and had to be allowed in. It was Art’s aunt.

“Is anyone here to take these, or should I just leave these in the doorway?” She called in through the open door, dragging Art’s luggage from the elevator with a degree of weary irritation and the inclination to shove the lot inside and walk away. She walked in on stiletto heels wearing an almost pencil thin skirt, looking like someone out of an Audry Hepburn movie. She had the appearance of someone who belonged on stage. She had that kind of face.

“Aunt Kaylee!” Art perked up and jogged over from the stack of books Randon had just dumped on the ottoman. He had been reading the peculiar titles on the spines, most of which were accounts of vampirism around the globe. “Thanks a ton! I’m sorry for the