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

still breathing ok, and he examined a number of other odd quirks about him, hmm’ing to himself until Troy finally groaned and said, “What’s the prognosis, doc? Am I gonna live?”  

“Forever, apparently.” Dr. McAllister then put away his stethoscope. He then tracked his finger in front of Troy’s eyes. “Tell me, how are your cravings?”

“Bearable,” Troy said, thinking on it. “It is a little more difficult when I am in close proximity of people, but I can handle it.”

“What about sexual relations?” the good doctor clinically asked with professional curiosity. “Does that affect it?”

Inwardly moaning, Troy wondered if Hanz had said something. So he replied, “I can safely report that sex does not make me want to take a bite.”

“That’s good news,” Dr. McAllister said brightly.

But then there was silence as he jotted something down. It made Troy itch.

So he said, “Look, I don’t know what Hanz told you, but…If I made him uncomfortable. I’m sorry. I am bi, and I think I may have engaged in some inappropriate staring while he—”

Dr. McAllister looked genuinely surprised. Not at him being bisexual, but that it was clear Hanz had not said a word to his brother-in-law about what transpired at the apartment. Perhaps even his question about sex was completely irrelevant to his relationship with Nicole. 

“He didn’t say a word?” Troy had to make sure.

Dr. McAllister shook his head. “Nope.”

“He didn’t tell you why he left the apartment?” Troy said, to make doubly sure.

Again, Dr. McAllister shook his head. “Only that he had gotten the lead he needed and he needed to be closer to the Deacons. Hanz was now abroad, working with a health organization I am not too familiar with. But he should either be in the Middle East or in Africa. Why? Did you have a falling out?”

It amazed Troy. Yet he said, “Kind of. A heavy difference of opinion. Both he and Art moved out the same day. Do you happen to know anything about Art’s whereabouts?”

Shaking his head once more, Dr. McAllister sighed. “Not at all. I had assumed he was still working for Deacon Enterprises in New York. I pretty much haven’t seen him since I last saw you at the meeting. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

Mind boggling. He had expected a petty tirade to his family. But that had never come. If one thing could be said about those two, they understood the value of discretion.

Troy handed over the updates to his research and what he had done with the bite victims’ meeting. He also handed over pictures of comfrey plants, explaining to Dr. McAllister the procedure for treating the bite. “We can make a pamphlet for this part and you can hand it out to patients. I still need a graphic designer to make it more user-friendly.”

“I told you about the publisher I used for my book, right?” Dr. McAllister said.

Troy nodded.

“I’m going to recommend him to you,” the doctor said, jotting down a note to himself. That’s when he noticed the post-it on the cat’s face. He glanced once to Troy and took it down. “You have a thing against cats?”

Shaking his head, Troy cringed at the cat’s expression again. “No. The opposite. My best friend is a cat—a familiar—and that cat on the wall looks miserable.”

Turning his head, staring at it, the doctor nodded. “Good to know. I’ll change it.”

As he was leaving the clinic, Jane stopped him. In her hands was a plate of brownies covered in large plastic zip lock bag. “For you.”

Blinking at them, awkwardly accepting them, Troy said, “You expected me?”

Jane shook her head. “No. But I like to make it a habit of making brownies to give away—usually for someone who seems to need it.”

“And I seem to?” Troy laughed.

She shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

And she went on her way.

Bemused, Troy strolled to the subway to go home. Funnily enough, it did lift his spirits. Brownies went well with milk besides.

Nicole met him at the door of his apartment building. She brought food and an overnight bag. Her face was beaming up at him as she greeted him with a kiss.

“Mind if I stay?” she said.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered before leading her to the door, “You can stay forever if you want.”

After a movie, a feast on the brownies and the dinner she had prepared, they lay in bed together that night, both sweaty and breathless from intense lovemaking. Troy murmured between kisses on her skin, “I keep thinking… I really do need a hobby besides vampires.”

She giggled, stroking his skin. “What? Besides this?”

With a laugh, he kissed her deeply, pressing into her. When he pulled apart, he said, “Something I can do more publicly.”

“Male escort,” she suggested, stroking her hand on his stomach to excite him again.

“Ah, come on….”

“You’ve got a beautiful body, and I know you’d please any woman with the male girth you’ve got,” she said, “and with the added luxury of never getting her pregnant.”

That pained Troy. Not the flattering words about his ‘manhood’. Those he enjoyed. But the remark about not getting her pregnant. It was true. Vampires could not reproduce. Not that he really had thought about having kids, but it would have been nice to still have the option. Yet there would be no children made between her and him—which was really too bad, because she was gorgeous and their children would have so adorable.

“A real hobby,” Troy said, trying to change the subject.

“Standup comedian.”

He laughed, stroking her bare belly, then running fingers along her neck. “Me? I only know a few dumb jokes. And they are about vampires.”

“Such as?” She sat up, giving him a beautiful view of her soft contours.

He felt a rise within his body, desiring for another go between them. Yet he said before kissing her, “What do vampires cross the sea in?”

She rolled her eyes, licking her lips and waiting for the answer.

“Blood vessels.” He then kissed along her neck, smelling her sweet aroma.

Despite the joke’s stupidity, she laughed, then kissed him. “Ok, circus clown.”

He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, rolling her down into the mattress so that he was on top once more. However, as they began to make love again, he heard Bobo knock on his door. “Are you decent?” he called through it.

Moaning, panting, Troy called out, “Not exactly. I’m kind of busy.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Bobo said through the door. “But Matthew and JJ are here. And I think it’s police business.”

Internally moaning, Troy gently disengaged from Nicole and reached around for where he had left his boxers and pants. He pulled them on. Once dressed, he checked to see if Nicole was covered, or at least was all right with him leaving suddenly. He went to the door and discretely stepped out. He whispered to Bobo who was standing in his pajamas, asking what was going on. Down below, he could see the other two plus another pair of cops, all four looking entirely official.

“What is it?” Troy called down, heading down the stairs. “This kind of bad timing.”

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said, “But this is important. Can you verify where you were between the hours of three and ten this evening?”

Troy nodded. “Yeah. I was in Dr. McAllister’s office, just leaving it at around three. I walked home and met Nicole here about an hour later. We’ve been here all evening. She made a cheesy potato casserole.”

“I had some.” Bobo raised a hand. “I got back at around six, and they’ve been here the entire time.”

“When did you head to bed?” Matthew asked, his eyes having not gone off of Troy.

Puzzled, Troy replied, “Around nine-thirty. Nicole is upstairs. She can verify.”

“Do you mind?” Matthew said to him.

“Can I give her a heads up?” Troy went back to the stairs, rushing ahead of him.

Sighing with a nod, Matthew looked like someone who had kicked him in the gut. Troy hoped this was just a precautionary thing. It was starting to scare him.

When he got to the door, he knocked then stuck his head in. Nicole lifted her head from the pillow, still wrapped in only the sheets. “Nicole? Can you throw something on? The police are here and need to speak with you.”

Her face seemed to go pale. Her eyes widened as she looked around. Most of her clothes were scattered near the doorway, and not so easy to put on. So he went in further, grabbing his cast off shirt, helping her pull it over her head. It was big enough to cover most of her. Matthew came in soon after.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Matthew said, trying to avert his eyes from her bare legs, though his reddening cheeks were enough. “But we have a few urgent questions to ask you. Can you verify Troy’s location from three in the afternoon to ten in the evening?”

She peeked to Troy, inching closer to him. “I met him here at four pm. And we’ve been together since. Officer Calamori, what is this about?”

Cringing with a peek to Troy, Matthew said, his eyes drifting to Troy a second time, “A… a member of your biting group was just killed—and it looks like a vampire did it.”

“Who?” Troy stared, drawing in a breath.

Closing his eyes, Matthew replied, “Brandon Turner.”

The Guilty and the Innocent

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-one

 

 

“What?” Troy froze. Not that he liked Brandon. In fact he rather despised him. He was a loathsome creep who needed to be castrated. But the guy was under his charge as part of the victims’ group, and he had failed to protect him.

Matthew nodded, then shook his head. He then glanced to the other police. “I’m afraid you are a prime suspect. More police will come to ask you questions, and since I am your friend, I will be taken off the case because of a conflict of interests.”

“But your gift—” Troy felt a shiver go through him.

“I know.” Matthew shook his head. “And I can hear plainly neither of you are lying. But unfortunately, people will assume I am covering for you because I am your friend. So I need to ask, who would have reason to attack Brandon Turner besides the pair of you?”

The pair of them? Troy did not like the sound of that phrase. He knew what it implied. He doubted Nicole had done anything. She was just as startled as he was. He could hear it in her heartbeat.

“Anybody,” Nicole said. “Brandon was a jerk. He treated people like trash and me like property.

Matthew nodded at that. He looked to JJ. “What do think?”

Shrugging, JJ said, “Until his ghost shows up, if it does, we have no leads. All we can do is get proof Troy didn’t do it.”

“And how do you get proof for that?” Nicole seemed to gasp.

“Brandon was drained of blood,” Matthew said, “So the police suspect a vampire. We need to stay here until sunup and verify Troy can still abide sunlight. That will be enough.”

“Will it?” JJ murmured, looking to the door. “Those other guys are intending to dust for prints.”

“For whose prints?” Troy asked.

“Brandon’s,” JJ said. “Do you think he touched much while at Bobo’s party?”

“Of the apartment or…” Troy side-glanced Nicole who blushed, looking away.

“The apartment,” JJ said sharply.

Troy shrugged. “I doubt he came