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

order.”

“He should not be here,” Brandon said again, pointing to Cameron.

Hanging his shoulders, Troy glanced once more to Cameron then to Brandon and those who were also silently objecting to another not-quite-vampire there. Back to Brandon, he asked, “Is your wound opening up again?”

“No,” Brandon said, put out.

“Is he biting anyone?”

“No.” Brandon gazed sullenly at him, yet peeking to Nicole.

“And he is clearly not burning up in the sunlight, so he’s not evil,” Troy concluded, realizing Brandon’s objection was actually a jealous one. However he turned to Cameron. “You can stay for the one meeting, but clearly I don’t think you should be a regular visitor.”

“And why are you here?” Cameron asked, also side-glancing to Nicole. He was adding up the same thing Troy had, looking a little more dismayed.

Rolling his eyes, Troy said, “If you recall, I was also once a bite victim. I’m imparting my survival tips. But to assure you, I will also be leaving these meetings after the third one.”

“What?” Sue sat up straighter.

“Why? No!” Leslie exclaimed, ready to jump to her feet in protest.

Dalton nodded appreciatively to Troy. “You gotta stay longer than that. You know more about vampires than anyone I know.”

Of course he did, but he could only impart so much information before his presence was no longer necessary. Troy delivered them all dry looks as he said, “That’s all from research. And I can pass all that on to you.”

“At future meetings,” Connor chimed in. He nodded sharply. “You should stay.”

“But that guy is just curious.” Brandon pointed at Cameron again.

Alexandra and Marcus remained silent, shrugging.

Joshua pointed to the plants, uninterested in the argument. “What are those for?”

Turning to him, Troy lifted one plant out of the bag, glad for the change of subject. “My experiment with infusing comfrey into oil was a failure. So I went to an expert I know. Her name is Silvia Le—um, Spade—and she told me that fresh comfrey is the best for the cure. So I am giving all of you one to own. Take care of it. And whenever you need a comfrey leaf, you can break it off any time and treat your wounds.”

Their expressions fell, nearly all of them dismayed at the news, though also pleased that at least he was providing them with the needed plant. Some of them, however, gazed at the plant as if the idea of keeping one alive was more difficult than dealing with a vampire bite.

Troy then gestured to Dalton. “And I would suggest you use that tiger balm Dalton has to ease the itch. I studied the components of the balm, and it contains two elements perfect for cooling the itch—camphor and eucalyptus, along with clove oil.”

Nicole frowned. She was obviously disappointed at hearing the infused oils would not work. In fact, she asked loudly, “How do you know that woman is right, though?”

Shrugging, Troy decided to tell them the truth. “Because she’s a skilled witch who knows a thing or two about herbal remedies.”

They stared.

“A witch?” Joshua said. He then dug into his ear with his pinky, shaking his head.

Troy nodded. “Yeah.”

“As in a black hat and green skin—”

Laughing, Troy shook his head. “No. Holy cow. No. A witch is someone who practices witchcraft. That means she is an expert in curses and herbal remedies.”

“Curses?” Sue exclaimed, her eyes widening. She looked to Leslie. Troy could tell she wanted to run out of there. Things like this definitely creeped her out.

“Herbal remedies?” Nicole said, openly affronted as it was treading on her ground of ‘expertise’. She also sounded jealous.

Troy nodded to her. “Yes. To be honest, I had to ask her about infusing comfrey as it was not working for me. No offense, but I realized I was ignoring my best asset for research—a living expert. She has quite a talent for it—well proven.”

“But she knows curses?” Sue said again, grasping Leslie’s hand.

Meeting her gaze, Troy nodded. “Yes. But to be fair, she is a witch leaving her coven, going straight—which is a dangerous thing. I think these days she works as a hairdresser.”

“How do you know a person like that?” Leslie asked, quite pale. She squeezed Sue’s hand.

Sighing, Troy replied, “She married my best friend.”

They all stared. Nicole exhaled with an “Oh….” She even smiled.

“Does your friend know she’s a—”

“Yes,” Troy said to Connor, who had asked. Then he gazed on them all gravely. “You guys have to know, the world is a lot more dangerous than just vampires. That group, the Holy Seven who gave you those emergency fobs, are out there keeping down that stuff. Witches are real. Most of them—the real ones and not the Wiccans—are extremely dangerous. But they know a thing or two about vampires and other cursed beings. And there are more dangerous things out there. You’ve met my friend Tom Brown, and you know he’s not an ordinary human being. And if I told you about all the things I have seen in my life, you’d wet your pants.”

They seemed to draw in breaths.

Sue rose, looking likely to grab her friend and run. “Just tell us this—what happened to Arthur? Your assistant? He didn’t come today. I got an email from him saying the meetings are still on and that you’d be here, but nothing else.”

Troy closed his eyes, inwardly moaning. He heaved a sigh before he said, “Art and I had a falling out. And instead of reconciling our differences, he decided to move out of our apartment and change jobs.”

They stared.

“He was living with you?” Brandon asked, eyes peeking once to Joshua.

Troy nodded.

Nicole bit her lip, sheepishly avoiding his gaze. She added it up quickly why Art left.

“He’s from Idaho, and I figure he moved back,” Troy said. “You see, the guy’s a Mormon, and he was having a hard time working with an almost vampire. And it was kind of weird living with a cultist, you know? I just couldn’t figure him out. No coffee, no beer, no sex life. I mean, does anyone here know anything about them?”

Connor shook his head laughing. Brandon snickered, shaking his head also while exchanging looks with Alexandra who had shrugged.

“I saw a South Park episode about them once,” Joshua said.

Troy nodded, chuckling.

But Dalton lifted his hand. “Uh, I knew one—and they aren’t cultists.”

All of them drew in different breaths, quieting. Troy angled his head, amazed Dalton had not said anything before. His attitude also echoed that of Rick for some reason.

“My old college roommate was LDS,” Dalton said. “LDS is short for Latter-day Saint, which is what they call themselves. But he said his church wanted them to get back to their original name which is just the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and they aren’t a cult like Troy thinks. Only outsiders call them Mormons because of the book they read.”

Troy frowned.

“They are just a bit zealous about their religion—especially those that really believe,” Dalton explained. “They are not a Sunday religion. They practice their faith twenty-four/seven. That means they read from their scriptures daily, pray a lot, live by a health code, have missionaries, and refrain from sex outside of traditional marriage.”

“I thought they were polygamists,” Connor said.

With a nod to him, Dalton replied, “Historically, yeah. But they aren’t now. My roomie disavowed Warren Jeffs, declaring vehemently that the man was not a member of their faith but from some apostate spin off group.”

“But what about the way they treat women?” Leslie asked. “I heard they keep women in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant.”

“Women can’t become priests in their church,” Sue chimed in.

Dalton shrugged. “We didn’t argue about that much. I just know that his girlfriend—also from the same church—said that women don’t need the priesthood. And that their church’s priests aren’t paid. It’s all volunteer. So it’s not a job.”

“What?” Sue exclaimed. “What do you mean not paid?”

“It’s all, entirely, volunteer,” Dalton replied. He lifted his hands in surrender. “Look. I’m not an expert. I’m just saying what they told me.”

“Well how does that prove they are not a cult?” Leslie asked.

Dalton shrugged. “They don’t drag people to camps and work them to death, and they don’t drain the pocketbooks of their members.”

“They demand money from their members,” Leslie protested.

Rolling his eyes, Dalton laughed. “Tithing. And Dave Ramsey of the Financial Peace University promotes tithing—and he’s not a Mormon. All churches have some form of tithing. It is an Old Testament principle. What do you think that collection plate that goes around other churches is for?”

“Paying the pastor,” Brandon said.

Dalton nodded. “Yeah. Tithing.”

“But if they are all volunteer, where does their money go?” Leslie demanded.

Troy blinked, wondering if he had asked this of Art or Hanz. He knew this answer. And he said, “Overhead.”

They stared at him, shocked he had put in his two cents when he was the one who had asked the question.

“It pays for the church buildings, electricity, water, and books and stuff.” He chuckled to himself, remembering. “Nothing in life is free.”

“But aren’t churches tax free?” Leslie said to him.

Dalton chuckled. “Sure. But not paying taxes does not mean things you need materialize out of nothing. Running an organization can get expensive.” He then looked to Troy. “The point is, they’re just people. And my roomie was easy to get on with as long as I didn’t do anything he thought was extremely profane. He respected my space and my right to live as I pleased.

“And, for the record, he was the one who convinced the others the night I got bit to leave that party. He said he had a bad feeling and we should leave,” Dalton said, the conversation shifting in tone. “I had ignored him and had stayed behind. If I had listened to him, I would not have been bitten.”

Everyone had gone silent.

Troy’s mouth felt dry. He licked the inside and mustered up a, “What happened since? Is he still your roommate?”

Shaking his head regretfully, Dalton sighed as he said, “Nope. My roomie married his girlfriend and they moved to Bring’em Young University in Utah where I do believe he is studying for his MBA.”

“How old is he?” Joshua gasped.

Dalton nodded, chuckling, “Twenty-four and counting.”

“That’s way too young to be getting married,” Sue muttered.

“No kidding,” Nicole said. “I don’t even want to think about marriage until after I am thirty.”

Yet Troy was thinking of Randon and Silvia. They had married pretty young. Their marriage, admittedly, had upset him. Matthew was right. He was not letting it go. Randon was never coming back to him, and he had to accept that. He needed to move on.

Troy looked to Nicole, wondering if she was a good place to start, or was she just playing around. She had been flirting with nearly every guy there. Clearly she and Cameron had a thing going. They probably even had sex. Though, looking at Cameron, Troy was not sure how far he would continue his relationship with her as he seemed the type who preferred exclusivity. Maybe Cameron was looking for a wife.

“So… you have that apartment to yourself now?” Nicole spoke up, breaking into Troy’s thoughts.

“I could use a new place,” Connor muttered. “Do you need a roommate to help with rent?”

“No.” Troy shook his head, following why Nicole had asked. She was still flirting. “I got a new roommate the day after. An old friend from high school moved in. Besides, a biting victim shouldn’t be living with a guy that has to repress a blood lust. What if you were to bleed and make me hungry, and I lose control?”

Some of them drew breaths.

“Is that why Art moved out?” Connor snickered as others stared.

Troy shrugged, thinking on that. “Maybe…. He was irritating me.”

Connor leaned back, taking the hint.

They then continued the meeting by turning the time over to Alexandra who was to report on her progress with the police and her new lawsuit against the SRA for harassment. Matthew had obtained for her a court date and a possibility for remuneration for stress and health fees. Then