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

were going down a hall toward the lobby, walking under fluorescent lights past where janitors were out buffing the floors.

Mr. Lenox nodded. “Yes. I can’t bear it. I can’t bear hurting her. I can’t bear hurting them.”

“But you might not,” Randon retorted, peeking once to Troy.

“No, you don’t understand,” Mr. Lenox said. “You are in the thick of it—all this supernatural insanity. I wasn’t. I was normal. And my wife and my kids are my everything. If I should ever harm them—”

“What makes you think you will?” Randon asked, growing annoyed. Clearly he did not like being called not normal.

Troy cringed more. He could feel what Mr. Lenox was saying. He was terrified the most of rejection. It was in his eyes. Troy had seen the same look in Rick’s eyes. The man was afraid his wife would take one look at him and think he was possessed, or realize the truth and think he was the devil. She was religious after all. By staying away, he would never have to face it. They met gazes and Troy nodded.

“Ok,” Troy said, “You’re being cautious. I get it.”

Randon shook his head, as he really didn’t. But he wasn’t thinking in the right direction, and Troy knew why. Randon’s experience with rejection of this sort was nil. Only his friends knew he could become a cat at will, and they thought it was cool. And like Mr. Lenox had said, Randon grew up in the thick of the supernatural. It was the water he swam in. It was the air he breathed. But a normie like Mr. Lenox and his family thought magic was fake imaginary stuff in fiction novels—and his wife refused to even read those.

They made it outside. Almost immediately a mocking voice sounded from above and to their right. “Well, looky here. Gerard’s got two new buddies—and only one’s got a heartbeat.”

Both Troy and Randon looked up toward the source of the voice, while Mr. Lenox rolled his eyes and continued on toward his car. They followed him, still looking back—Randon in haste, though Troy with annoyance.

“Eh!” that voice called out with a resonant tinny sort of tone which Troy recognized as vampiric. “If you are looking for a drinking buddy, you are chasing the wrong guy!”

Troy halted. This was entirely irritating. He really hated vampires. Turning around, he saw a man with a lean build and ordinary tee shirt and jeans standing on the edge of the roof. This vampire clearly had mastered flight, a skill in vampire magic which Troy had learned comes at the expense of certain doses of human blood mixed with the blood from his own right wrist and left wrist, combined with the blood of a bat. He had first assumed this was where the rumor of becoming a vampire bat had emerged but he later found out that some vampires had also learned transformative spells, chose an animal form, and just liked to mess with people. Troy had gotten this information off a rare piece of manuscript, most of which had been burned and also reeked of sesame oil for some reason. The only reason he knew all this was true was that the manuscript had been verified under an SRA research group and had only reached his hands after a hefty pay-out to a crooked, disgruntled SRA hunter. Long story.

“You’re a newbie, ain’t you?” the vampire on the roof called down.

Randon grabbed Troy’s arm, tugging him along.

The vampire burst into laughter. “What’s your problem, you little freak? Afraid to lose your lover to another guy?”

This time Troy pulled Randon away, who had halted like a tiger whose tail had just been pulled. Randon bristled as he looked back, and nearly hissed like a cat. Sometimes Randon forgot he was human and acted like his furry, four-pawed self, which (if aggravated more) drew out the cat in him. In public, that was a bad idea.

The vampire made a flip and landed on the ground in front of the entrance as if gravity were nothing and he was Spiderman. Hardly startled—though Mr. Lenox was and had jerked back toward the road—Troy and Randon merely turned to face him, used to Tom Brown doing such things all the time. When he saw he got no such effect from the pair, the vampire expression dropped into disappointment. However, now closer to them, the vampire took in Troy and Random more clearly. Almost immediately he drew in a breath, pointing to Troy. “You! The Order of Blood is looking for you!”

Randon drew Troy away again, this time more forcefully. Mr. Lenox looked from Troy to the vampire, backing towards the curb. His eyes widened more, his hands shaking. Randon waved to him to ignore it and move on.

“You cannot hide, Meecham’s son!” the vampire shouted, but for some reason kept his distance. “They will catch up with you and force you to choose!”

“They did that yesterday!” Troy snapped back, ripping off his sunglasses. His irises were dark red from anger.

But the vampire shook his head. “No. The ritual is not over!”

Randon shot Troy a worried glance. But Troy bristled, squaring his shoulders.

“It is for me,” Troy snapped back. “I’m done.”

Mr. Lenox stared from the one to the other, easing toward Troy.

The vampire hissed at Troy, backing up. “Then you will die. You and your father! They will slaughter you!”

Stepping to Troy’s side, Randon snarled. “He’s under the protection of the Holy Seven! If you vampires get anywhere near him, they will make sure the heads of the Order of Blood will roll.”

His words sliced right through that vampire to the heart. The vampire looked as if he was a ghost of himself for a second. Immediately he rushed away into the night sky. They could not see where he went, though Mr. Lenox breathed easier.

“Can this Holy Seven really do that?” the man asked, almost begging.

“Absolutely.” Randon nodded, pulling Troy with him as Troy was stunned at what he had seen, wondering about the Holy Seven more. He had only met those three the evening before. He had only heard vague rumors about them besides, and not from vampires. He wondered what the vampires knew about this group of sword-waving, fire-wielding weirdoes. Perhaps he did want them around after all.

Once Mr. Lenox was in his car and safely on the road, Randon steered Troy to the subway so they could go home. He did not let go of Troy’s arm until they went through the subway turnstile. Then, once they got a seat on the subway car, he whispered next to Troy’s ear, “They’re not going to get to you.”

“What about Mr. Lenox?” Troy murmured, realizing that his problems might ripple onto that poor afflicted man. Gerard Lenox had endured enough.

Sighing, Randon shook his head. “We can deal with that when we start the support group. I bet I can get every member of the Seven in this area on board to protect this group, though I think Peter and Daniel might be leaving to England soon. But, I bet you Semour, Jessica, and Andrew will come.”

“That is still three out of Seven,” Troy murmured, wondering how Randon knew so many of them. How many had come when his mother had found him? What had happened exactly? He knew Tom and Matthew were extremely familiar with them also. He had seen on the roof a familiarity between Peter McCabe and Tom as if they were kindred spirits in a bizarre way.

Randon chuckled, leaning back from him. “You think we need them all?”

“I’d like to meet them now,” Troy muttered, musing on the vampire’s terror. He had only heard of them reacting in that way to the vimp whom he was sure was Eve and therefore not available for his defense. And Mr. Lenox and the other bite victims needed all the protection they could get.

Dangerous People

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

They were feeling drowsy by the time they got back in their neighborhood and came out at their stop. Both sets of eyes and ears listened for any trailing vampires, though. Troy also wondered as they went along if there was perhaps a scent that he might have missed that he ought to sniff for now that he had stronger senses—though it was possible that his own odor would mask the scent of another vampire. One thing was for certain. That vampire at the college would report he was alive to the Order of Blood. The plan for secrecy had been blown.

Into the building, up the elevator and to the door of the apartment, both Troy and Randon remained subdued in their thoughts. When Randon opened the door, a strong scent of tomato, oregano, and basil hit their senses. No garlic.

“You’re back!” Silva brightly grinned when they stepped through the door. “So… what was he like?”

Both Art and Hanz were sitting on the stools at the island counter eating triangles of something, dipping it in what looked like salsa. Silvia was in an apron, openly playing house and enjoying it. The apron looked newly purchased, just out of the package, and covered in a red-and-white check with applique apples for pockets. In her other hand was a spatula and she was tending to a hot pan with what looked like chicken and cheese on a tortilla.

“Normal,” Randon said as he shut the door while Troy wandered in to see if that was she was making. “Just an ordinary guy… who happens to be a vampire.”

“Is he really vegan?” she asked. “’Cause I have some really great vegetarian recipes.”

“You do?” Randon looked surprised.

“I used to make them for Audry,” she said, grinning at him mockingly, her eyes asking him why he did not already know that.

Troy shook his head, vaguely remembering Audry and her wolf tee shirt booth.

“No, Mr. Lenox not actually a vegan,” Randon said, crossing over to the not quite sorted bags of groceries. Half of them had been put away, probably just the cold stuff. “He drinks milk and likes pasta salad with mayonnaise. I think the term ‘vegan’ is sort of a joke with him. I’m not sure he really knows what it means.”

“What is that?” Troy asked, walking up to the counter, gesturing to the cooking food with hopes to get some.

Silvia grinned back, tilting her chin up triumphantly. “Chicken quesadillas. Want one?”

Troy nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Art and Hanz quickly supplied a plate for him. Art also nudged over a mug of steaming creamy colored liquid. Clearly Troy’s eyes were still very red.

Picking up the mug, just to make them feel better, Troy took a sip.

Then the gulped it down. He had no idea he was that hungry. When he was done, a white mustache now coating his upper lip, he tasted the remains and said, “Was that nutmeg in it?”

Hanz nodded, smiling. “Yeah. Eve likes it that way.”

Troy looked to him. As Silvia set another tortilla on top of the one she was cooking with cheese, he pulled up a stool and turned toward Hanz. “Tell me about the Order of Blood. What do you know about them?”

For a second, Hanz looked taken aback. He peeked once to Randon who cringed and said, “We bumped into a vampire tonight who threatened us.”

“He didn’t attack?” Silvia asked, her eyes a little wider