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

with another eye roll.

“That’s how it works!” Art shot back.

Troy retreated a step from him.

“My gosh! Are you that out of touch with how things get done in the real world? It is called delegation. And it is effective in getting things done efficiently, especially if you are a businessman heading a multinational corporation,” Art argued. He shook his head tersely. “The fact that he is working through his steward and not one of his many different personal assistants shows that you are being given the best help. Ugh! Can’t you see it?”

 A warm wash of shame went through Troy, making it difficult for his to lift his eyes to Art. He had done it again. Just like that, and he had fallen back to his old resentment. It was so easy.

“I’m sorry,” Troy said palely.

With another huff Art sat back down and picked up his pen again. “Ok. So, uh, you had talked with that professor about making a support group in this city. I did some research last night and this morning and I found a few sites to help you in that.”

Troy sat next to him. What kind of person was this?

 

They spent the morning making calls and visiting websites to arrange for lab equipment to be shipped, not to their apartment but to a P.O. Box which the Deacon’s steward had prepared for them. A courier soon brought them the keys along with a package containing a Holy Seven alert key fob for Art and a computer for the lab. A note was with it.

 

This computer is to help you with your work. It has zero internet capacity. It is best to keep such things offline in case of spying and sabotage. Our tech crew went through the machine to make sure there were no spy equipment in it. And the camera and microphone have been disabled. Someone will come in to set up a land line for your own computer. We don’t want WiFi here in case it gets used against you.

Rick

 

“That was nice of him,” Art said.

Troy suppressed a sigh. It seemed paranoid to him. How could WiFi be used against someone?

Rick had also moved fast. The werewolf really was serious about helping him in his research, but Troy still thought Rick bought his friendships. It made him wonder, though, if that made the guy incredibly lonely. Did he even have a true friend?

Troy set the computer up on the coffee table and checked out what programs were on it. It had the usual—word processing, database files, slide viewing files for presentations, and files for photo editing. There were other more techy files as well, which he did not recognize, though Art did. Troy also found Free Cell and Spider Solitaire.

Toward the afternoon (after a lunch Art served up consisting of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches), Hanz returned with Robert, both carrying in more things for the apartment.

“What’s that?” Art approached Hanz as he set down the box. Robert put down an equally full box, which upon settling made a tinkling sound.

“Lab equipment,” Robert said.

Art and Troy exchanged a look and Art said, “We already ordered some online.”

Robert nodded. “Don’t fret about it. You can always use more ‘quipment.”

“We were informed about the lab you are going to have built,” Hanz said. “These were donated.”

“Donated?” Troy stared.

“Deacon Enterprises has a lab in the city for product testing and development,” Robert said.

 Troy stared more. “You’re kidding me.” He looked to Art who had merely nodded. “Then why can’t we just use that lab?”

Robert coughed out an ‘Are you serious?’ laugh.

Hanz opened up the box he was carrying, taking out beakers and measuring tools made of glass. He hardly noticed Art’s exasperation as he replied to Troy, “Why go across town when you can have a lab in your own apartment?”

Not to be beat, ignoring Art’s look, Troy retorted, “Won’t the police think we are setting up a meth lab or something?”

“How dangerous are the things you plan to do?” Robert asked, smothering a chuckle.

Art sighed, halting mid nod. He went back to get his planner, gesturing to Hanz for an up-close whisper. 

Hanging his shoulders as if a sandbag were draped across it, his eyes rolled. Troy knew he was beat. They were dead set on building this laboratory for him. But he still didn’t like owing Rick so much.

“Henry, the Deacon’s steward, is goin’ to come by this afternoon with contractors,” Robert said.

“Does Henry have a last name?” Troy asked wearily.

Robert laughed. “Yes. But I don’ know it. They just call him Henry, like he’s part of the family.”

A shiver ran through Troy again. He realized now that he really did not know Rick at all. He hardly knew about Henry. Rick had not really mentioned him. Or had he ignored it?

“The thing is, I think it would be good if you were out of the apartment then,” Robert said.

Troy stared. “Why?”

Smirking, Robert glanced Troy up and down and said, “Because, white boy, you look more like a vampire than ever. You’ll freak them out.”

Art averted his gaze. Hanz seemed unfazed though. Of course, he was engaged to a woman who looked more vampiric than the entire Order of Blood.

“Will he give us a heads up?” Art asked.

Robert nodded, grinning with amusement at him. “Of course. That’s what I am doin’ now. The contractors will come this afternoon to assess the space. They’re under special contract with Deacon Enterprises to build for Gulinger, so they are good at keepin’ secrets.”

Only Art was confused. Hanz seemed to know about Gulinger, if only a tiny bit.

“Arthur can probably be in the apartment during the time they are here,” Robert said. “But I’m sorry, Troy, you will need to make yourself scarce durin’ work hours. Because they also do gov’ment work they will probably have a bad opinion about vampires. You understand.”

“What will be their work hours?” Troy asked, perturbed though accepting that fact. Hunters would be after him also, mostly likely.

“You will set that up with Henry,” Robert said.

“So we get to meet him?” Troy grumbled, wondering irritably if any of this was worth it.

Robert pointed to Art. “He’s goin’ to work for him. And you, of course.”

Troy, for a second, wondered if there was something Mr. Deacon had said to Robert concerning his situation. He was not sure the old werewolf liked the idea of helping a vampire—even one who had not sought it out.

“Anyway, you need to find a place to go durin’ those hours. I heard you had research to do,” Robert said.

What was the point in getting an apartment to hide in if he was going to be pushed out of it into the sunlight? He was not ready for that yet.

“We can head back to that college,” Art said, reading his mood. “We can use the library there, and I can meet Mr. Lenox.”

“He won’t be there until after sunset,” Troy muttered.

Art shrugged. “So what? Let’s just do what needs to be done.”

And that seemed to be settled.

“In fact,” Art said, grabbing his jacket, “Let’s go now.” He nodded to Hanz and Robert. “Can you speak with Henry for us? He can text me the details so we don’t delay getting the lab built.”

“How long do you think that would take?” Troy asked, running up the stairs to grab a hoodie and sunglasses.

“Hopefully just a week,” Art said, collecting his apartment keys and grabbing his planner.

“It will require permits,” Troy called down, pulling on the hoodie while hurrying out again in long strides.

“Mr. Deacon has ways of gettin’ those in a day,” Robert said confidently, his voice echoing from downstairs.

Troy suspected he was right, and snatched up his wallet also.

“You better put on more sunblock,” Hanz said before Troy pulled up his hoodie.

With one glance, Troy knew he was right. There was no use in debating vampire things with Hanz. His Eve was more likely the best expert on the subject, and therefore (vicariously) he was. Troy pumped out a dollop and slathered his face and hands, coating also his neck. It was not likely the sun would touch any other part of him.

As he and Art rushed out the door, Troy leading the way to the nearest subway station, they left the apartment to Hanz and Robert.

Some Assembly Required

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

Mr. Lenox was pleased to meet Art when he showed up at the college with Troy and expressed it by inviting him to his office for some tea.

Art colored with embarrassment, ducking his head a little as he said, “No thanks. I don’t drink tea.”

“Coffee then?” Mr. Lenox asked. “I make a good brew.”

When Art laughed again, Troy looked at him with annoyance as this had to be another of his weird religious hang-ups. It had been a frustrating day altogether. They had spent the greater portion of the afternoon in the library mostly making phone calls and using the internet to contact people. Troy had tried to get a hold of Andrew, but he kept getting voicemail, which had the message: *Andrew is busy at the moment slaying dragons, fighting ogres, wrestling trolls, or perhaps just busy in the emergency room doing surgery. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you if I can.* Art had laughed at that also, then unhelpfully told Troy to get a sense of humor.

“I’m sorry. I don’t drink coffee either,” Art said to Mr. Lenox with an apologetic smile. “How about just water?”

Mr. Lenox shrugged, though he said, “How do you get by without caffeine?”

With a chuckle, Art replied, “Oh there is always Coke or Pepsi, but I generally hold with going about life without the need of a stimulant.”

Both Troy and Mr. Lenox stared at him.

But once they arrived at the office, Art laid out all the details he dug up about starting a support group, pulling out his planner and pen once more.

“Since there are no existing vampire victim support groups to start with,” Art started, peering over his handwritten list, “We will need some other kind of model for this group. Were you planning on using Alcoholics Anonymous as your model?”

Mr. Lenox nodded, glancing once to Troy who was growing irritably resigned to his new personal assistant. Art was just too… clean. Like a boy scout.

“Ok…” Art scratched something down then continued on. “Then the next thing the website I found suggests is to seek out professional assistance before starting the group. They suggest social service workers and clergy, but also physicians or therapists. But I don’t know about social service workers or clergy that would want to get involved with vampire related stuff. They’ll think we’re nuts or probably try to exorcize us—Hanz said it was likely. But I do know of three physicians we can use—but one is going to be leaving the country shortly.”

Mr. Lenox perked up. “And who is this?”

“Hanz Johaansen. A friend of ours.” Art glanced at Troy then said, “You’ll meet him later, maybe. But Troy and I discussed bringing in Dr. McAllister as our professional help, and possibly Andrew Cartwright, another physician—though he has yet to finish his medical training. However, what about help from the police? We know at least three policemen—”

“Three?” Troy peered at him, sure Art did not know more than two, if he