Once Bitten, No Longer Shy by Julie Steimle (chrome ebook reader txt) 📕

“Whatever,” she said, shoving them over. But then she eyed up the apartment space, growing impressed the more she took in the room. “Wow. How did you manage to get a place like this? Is this in your work contract?”

He cast the apartment a quick once over and nodded. “Yeah. I’m basically a personal assistant attached with Deacon Enterprises now.”

“This is awfully sudden,” she said, stepping in to get an even better look. Her inclination to extract herself from the place nearly vanished.

Snatching a glance of the woman from over his stack of sparse cookware and dishes he was putting away, Troy’s impression of her was of a woman who liked style and prestige—a bit like the cliché story of the farm girl who left the country seeking fame and glory on Broadway. He guessed this because Art had that salt-of-the-earth country boy thing about him, though he seemed more traveled than the usual country bumpkin. College-educated country bumpkin, probably. Rick had mentioned meeting him in Germany.

But then the aunt’s eyes set on Silvia, tracking her. Then she saw Randon and Troy. She leaned near Art and whispered, “What with the Emo family?”

Blinking, Art looked to Troy then the others. He broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh. Right. Um. Aunt Kaylee, that’s my roommate Troy. I’m helping him with his research.”

“What’s he researching? Flat-liners?” A smirk formed on her painted lips. It wasn’t like Tom’s smirks. Tom’s smirks were never snide. Teasing, mocking, and mischief-full, but not snide. Her condescending gaze left a bad taste in Troy’s mouth.

“Uh, no,” Art said. “I think it was something like clotting agents. He’s studying pharmacology. His doctorate.”

She still didn’t seem impressed. Troy liked her even less.

Then she saw Hanz. Hanz waved. He then went directly past her to the elevator to get another load from the car, if there was anything left.

“Let me guess,” she said, watching Hanz go as if checking out his butt, “Old mission companion?”

“No. EFY counselor,” Art replied a little more dryly. “At BYU.”

Immediately she looked bored. Sighing as if the entire conversation wearied her, as did her nephew, Aunt Kaylee turned to leave. “Alright. Don’t forget to call your mother.”

Art followed her. “Already did, Aunt Kaylee. And you should call her too sometime.”

Her huff from the hallway echoed into the apartment. “Yeah, right. And endure a sanctimonious lecture about coming back to church? No thank you.”

“Mom misses hearing from you, you know,” he said.

But they heard the elevator ding. She clearly went in and was gone.

Art walked back into the apartment with scuffing feet, hands in pockets. He shrugged when he saw them peeking at him. He then walked more normally to another box to unpack it.

Hanz returned a few minutes later, announcing to the room that it was the second to the last load. He looked back out into the hall and said more privately, though everyone heard it, “No luck, Art?”

Art shook his head. “None. But at least she came and brought my stuff. That was nice of her.”

“More than you expected,” Hanz said. He patted Art on the back. “She came. She saw. She left.”

“Yeah… she actually came.” Art snorted, then went back to work

Troy was a little irritated by it all. Yet he decided not to complicate the situation by mentioning that he had no family to speak of. Comparison was stupid. That pain that Art was experiencing, the one of watching family become detached and distant, was not one he even knew. However, his pain of having no family alone swelled a little.

Until Randon slapped him on the back and hissed near his ear, “Don’t let it hurt you. They aren’t ghoulies. Their experiences aren’t ours.”

With a look to him, Troy nodded. Randon knew better than most the pain of family deliberately hurting him. Randon’s own mother and sister had experimented on him, turning him into a witch’s familiar—a black cat. The fact that Art’s aunt had called him, Silvia, and Randon the Emo family was odd, as the only thing really Emo about Randon was his hair color, being as dark as his.

“Are you two brothers?” Art finally asked Randon, pointing from him to Troy.

Both Randon and Troy shook their heads.

“Old friends,” Troy said.

“But you look kind of alike,” Art said.

“Doppelgangers,” Hanz interjected, nodding.

Troy and Randon exchanged looks. This wasn’t new. They had gotten this when they were back in school at Gulinger. It had never bothered them.

“Do we still look like brothers?” Troy asked, glancing at his nearly porcelain arm and up at Randon’s healthy complexion.

They all nodded except Randon who was actually thinking the same as Troy.

“Related at least,” Silvia said. “The cat and the vampire.”

Both Troy and Randon rolled their eyes, in tandem.

Hanz smothered a snicker.

Art just stared.

Once all the boxes were in and the car emptied, Silvia offered to take them food shopping so they could stock their shelves.

“I’m in!” Art jumped up, eager to go.

Hanz decided to go with him, raising his hand with a degree of exhaustion. 

“Somebody ought to be here when Bobo arrives with the stuff he said he’d bring,” Troy said.

“I’ll stay too,” Randon said. “Especially since it is getting dark.”

Silvia nodded, waving.

Art and Hanz exchanged a look and were quickly out the door.

“See you later, sweetie.” Silvia blew a kiss and was gone.

Once they were alone Randon said to Troy, “You intend to go out, don’t you?”

Troy shot him a sheepish look. He would have blushed if he could.

Randon sighed. “Come on. How long have we known each other? I know that look. You have an idea on your mind and you don’t want to involve those other two.”

Nodding, Troy said, relaxing his shoulders, “Ok. You caught me. Look, we saw that doctor Hanz knows, and he recommended I go visit this other guy in a situation kind of like mine—and I don’t want to wait.”

“Woah! What doctor? When was this?” Randon’s eyes widened in true surprise. It made him look a bit like a staring cat.

Troy nodded. “Hanz’s brother-in-law-to-be, William McAllister. This afternoon.”

“Where?” Randon stared more. If he had his pointy ears and tail, they would have twitched.

“Here in New York.” Troy then got up to go. He stopped on his way to the door. “You wanna come?”

Randon laughed, nodding. “Of course I am coming. I am not letting you run around New York City without some protection.”

Troy grinned, thinking about a mere cat protecting him. “Especially after those vampires chucked my phone, right?”

Nodding, Randon hooked his arm around Troy’s shoulders. “Exactly!”

They went down the stairs to the bottom floor, Troy carrying his key in his hand as if it were a talisman. As they reached the road and headed toward the nearest subway stop, Randon asked, “Hey, do you want Silvia to set up a shadow spell for you and that guy Art?”

Troy jerked to halt on the sidewalk then vigorously shook his head as he continued on. “No way. That Art is a religious guy. So is Hanz. Before you got there, they were praying over the place. I don’t think they would look well on witchcraft.”

 Randon almost laughed, but stopped himself. Witchcraft seemed to be all that he did know. It surrounded his life. His mother and sister were witches, and now so was his wife. Like Troy, Randon’s family was not church-going when he was a kid. His father, however, had become a bit more religious since he grabbed Randon and they both ran off, and he ended under witness protection—though he tended to lean towards Taoism and spiritualism than the Western religions. It was his way of getting far from the extreme paganism that his ex-wife was into without sticking his foot into something even scarier—which was acknowledging that there might actually be a God and his own behavior mattered, leading to (dare he admit it) consequences. Randon never really thought it about much himself until he met members of the Holy Seven. Since then, he felt a shade uneasy as they claimed to be warriors for God. He was wondering how Troy was handling it.

“Do you know what religion?” Randon asked.

Shaking his head, Troy said, “Nope. But they look like a pair of Mormon missionaries.”

Randon laughed.

They rode the subway to the community college where the ‘vegan vampire’ worked. It was dark by the time they got off, and Randon texted Silvia, letting her know where they went. He advised them not to follow, but to stay at the apartment and maybe arrange something for dinner. All of them had to be famished.

As they walked onto the campus grounds, they looked around for the office then the classroom for the professor—whose name was Mr. Gerard Q. Lenox. Troy and Randon tried to imagine what this Mr. Lenox would look like, but they could not quite settle on an image. They knew he was a math professor, and that was about it. Since he was part vampire, they imagined him to be pale and perhaps wear glasses with tinted lenses, if he followed any advice from Jane or Will McAllister which Troy suspected he would, religiously. He would have. Will and Jane certainly seemed to know what they were talking about. Troy currently was wearing sunglasses despite that it was now night. His eyes were still red from the transformation the night before, and he could see either way. Vampires had night vision.

Randon stopped one guy walking down the college building’s hall, asking, “Do you know where Mr. Lenox’s class is at?”

The guy shook his head and continued on.

They continued to search, stopping two others. The second person pointed down the hall to the right.

Following the directions, they found themselves at a door and both of them peered into the small window. Inside the classroom there were all sorts of people listening to a middle-aged man with thinning ash-and-brown hair. He had a long nose that reminded both Randon and Troy of that old 50’s actor, Bob Hope. He was wearing red-tinted glasses and had on a long sleeve turtleneck sweater.

“Looks like we found him,” Troy murmured. “Should we go in? Or should we hang out here until he is done?”

“Let’s hang here,” Randon suggested.

Agreeing, realizing that they probably would disturb the class if they walked in during the lesson, and they would most likely agitate the professor once he saw Troy. Will had said he was wary of other vampires.

As the class progressed to the end of the hour, Randon texted Silvia and Troy leaned near the door, listening to the lesson. It was basic algebra he was teaching. He guessed the class was for those seeking their GED. It was comforting to see a man still pursuing a life after vampirism, which gave Troy some hope. He had to make this work. He had no choice.

A tinny bell sounded in the hall, causing Randon to jump, though Troy was surprised it hadn’t startled him as much as it would have. Of course, his heart did not beat anymore to jump.

The door opened and students filed out. Using the commotion, they quietly slipped into the room.

Mr. Lenox was wiping off the white board, his back to them as they walked toward the front of the room. Troy wondered if he should take off his sunglasses or leave them on. Feeling nervous, he called out, “Mr. Lenox?”

The man stiffened as if something in Troy’s voice bothered him. He slowly turned his head and looked. His eyes tracked Randon then Troy, counting them. One. Two. Troy then realized there was only one heart beating in the room, and that was Randon’s. The man’s eyes rested hard on Troy and he turned completely around, stiffening.

“Mr. Lenox, may we talk with you?” Troy said. “I’ll keep my distance. But I was referred to you by Dr. William McAllister.”

Randon side-glanced Troy, wondering why he was taking such a direct approach. He felt he had missed something in the conversation—something unsaid that clearly Troy and Mr. Lenox understood immediately.

The man raised his chin, replying with a voice that sounded slightly off in