Once Bitten, No Longer Shy, Julie Steimle [i wanna iguana read aloud TXT] 📗

counted Joshua Johnson whom he had barely spoken to at all.

Nodding to him, Art read off names. “Your friend Matthew Calamori, Andrew’s wife Jessica, and that cop you called JJ. You said you knew him.”

Troy was impressed. He had to admit—Art had a great memory. He had forgotten about Jessica being a police detective.

“And I don’t think we should count your friend Tom, as he is CIA and not a police officer,” Art continued.

“CIA?” Mr. Lenox stared, entirely stunned. His face had become a little glossy with sweat.

Troy frowned at that one, not sure Tom would like being excluded from anything.

“I also think we should count the Holy Seven as consultants, though they should be kept as honorary members or aides, as they might actually scare off club members.”

“Holy Seven?” Mr. Lenox repeated, his brow furrowing now. He looked again to Troy. The name was familiar to him, but clearly he could place what it related to.

“When you meet Andrew, he can explain what they do,” Art explained while Troy frowned further. Art then chuckled with a shrug. “Because I hardly know myself. I just barely found out about them.”

“So should we really trust them?” Troy asked, his frown deepening. His mind was back on the fire Daniel had invoked and how Andrew lit up like a supernova when facing a death angel, though he was also thinking about the threat Randon had made to that vampire. He was still undecided.  

Art shot him a funny look. After a moment he said, “They saved your life two days ago. I’d say yes.”

He then went on.

They made a list of things, including a written statement that described their motivation for starting their support group. They set down to determine the scope of their group, which Mr. Lenox argued should start small first, but he would like to expand into the internet with a chat room and a vetting system—much like the Anonymous_Wolf site that Randon referred him to when he explained their options the night before. One of the things they determined was to make it a long-term group—at least until a cure for vampire bite could be made. They had to address lifelong issues of the eternal bleed and living with vampiric cravings after all. Then they set out to decide how often they wanted to meet.

“How about once a week at the most?” Mr. Lenox said.

Troy nodded, and Art just shrugged, writing it down.

“Ok,” Art said, just adding a period to the end of a sentence. “So, what format do you want to use? The site I found listed 3 types: Curriculum-based, Topic-based, and Open-forum?”

“AA is usually an open forum,” Mr. Lenox said. “But we could also go by topic, discussing certain issues related to surviving in the world with a bite or as a partial vampire.”

Troy nodded, yet said, “Do you think there are more of us out there?”

Nodding, Mr. Lenox heaved a sigh. “Yes. I do. I think, after meeting you, I realized that if anyone was tricked or forced like you or I, then they would hide from the sun like I do. There might be a fair number of vegan vampires out there.”

Art smirked, pressing his lips together to smother a laugh, and averted his eyes.

“Did he say something funny?” Troy asked, the smirk annoying him.

Shaking his head first, Art replied, “No. Nothing he said. It’s just…”

Troy rolled his eyes. “What?”

Meeting his gaze, Art replied, “The term ‘vegan vampire’ made me think of those vampires from those Twilight books. They claimed to be vegetarian.”

“Never read them,” Mr. Lenox said, unfazed.

“No loss,” Troy retorted with a moan.

Art chuckled though, shaking his head. “Dude, they were romance novels with imaginary vampires. I wouldn’t have expected you to. It’s just… my sister liked the books and I saw all the movies with her.”

“You can do that?” Troy stared at him like he wanted to spit. “I thought you were religious.”

This time Art shot him a glare of tired irritation. “You seriously don’t know a thing about my faith. What is it? The stories about vampires or the fact that they are movies?”

Troy almost said ‘both’, but then thought the better of it. Art seemed a mite beyond insulted.

Pen to paper once more, Art continued, controlling his temper. “Ok, now we need to choose a suitable time and place.”

“We discussed that last night, I believe,” Mr. Lenox said.

Troy nodded. “Yeah. I think we should meet first at the college—we can rent or schedule a room. You can arrange that, right?”

Mr. Lenox nodded with pleasure. “Sure can.” The man’s posture straightened more, gaining confidence from the conversation.

“And time?” Art asked, pen ready.

Both Troy and Mr. Lennox exchanged looks. They both said, “After sunset.”

Art delivered them both a wan look. “How about an o’clock? Scheduling usually does not follow the sun like a sundial.” 

That got a laugh from Mr. Lenox who nodded, apparently finding Art refreshing. He then looked to Troy. “When did the sun set today?”

“A little after six,” Troy said, annoyed by that little interchange.

“Then make the meeting start at six-thirty,” Mr. Lenox replied. “When the sun sets later, we will move it to seven.”

Art wrote it down.

“Now all we have to do is write up a flier and send out something via social media in the area to find interested people,” Art said, scribbling out the last bit.

They went to Mr. Lenox’s computer to handle that. After typing out all the details, creating a flier with tear-able strips so it could be put on bulletin boards in public places, they also emailed a copy to Dr. McAllister so he could also make referrals for patients, if any ever came his way or if there were any he was in regular contact with. The first meeting was scheduled a month from that Wednesday.

“That should do it,” Mr. Lenox said when they had finished. He then went off to his classroom to prepare for that evening’s eight o’clock lesson. Art and Troy did not linger.

They went out a different door than the previous night. Troy intended to avoid the vampire he was sure was waiting to harass Mr. Lenox. The professor had told them that a pair of vampires often lingered around to tease him and flirt with the ladies to lure them away. It was all Mr. Lenox could do to protect his students from those predators.

While they were on the subway homeward, they got a text from Hanz saying it was safe to return to the apartment—and added that Troy’s package had arrived.

“You were waiting for a package?” Art asked, as Troy seemed to rush once he read that.

“A manuscript,” Troy said, wishing the ache in his chest was a heartbeat rather than just his anxiety. He hoped Andrew’s wife had gotten the right one and it was in good condition.

He was anxious the entire trip back to the apartment. When he arrived, rushing through the door, he saw part of the apartment was already marked for renovation, including a line drawn from floor to ceiling in blue chalk as if that wide open part had been chopped in half by some laser. The carpet had already been sliced and pulled up on that side, revealing the bare ugly floor underneath. That entire end of the open space was graffiti-ed with workers marks and measurements. The package was on the kitchen counter, but Troy was drawn to the construction work.

“They figure it can be done in a week, at the least,” Hanz said as Troy stared, also watching Art gaze at it with approval. “But they do want some details. You will probably need something for heating and refrigeration, correct?”

Troy nodded, coming around to the area to inspect the marks. He could see they would still have a substantial amount of space for the living room, with plenty of space for the lab. It could actually work. “Yeah.”

“Is there anything in particular you want?” Hanz asked. “Climate control and running water are a given.”

Troy shook his head. He hated to admit it, but Art was right. This lab was exactly what he needed. He had been a jackass to try to fight it. His ego really had been getting the better of him.

They went about the rest of the evening the same as the night before. Art went to bed early. Hanz stayed up reading something, while Troy inspected the package. It was the correct manuscript, and in good condition. Troy wondered how she managed to sneak it out. And with it was a note in feminine writing.

 

Let me know if you want any more like this. We can get it for you.

 

Closing up the manuscript, he sighed with relief. His research was not yet over.

Troy once more did pushups and sit ups to get out the ‘itches’ that evening. This time he did two hundred each.

It actually terrified him when he completed them with only minor aches, realizing that his understanding had been wrong. Vampires did have enhanced strength after all. He was a little afraid to find out how far it went and if it spent up what humanity he had left in him.

When he dried off his sweat, Hanz handed him another warm drink so he could fall asleep.

Taking it, Troy asked, “What is that powder you put in with the milk? Some kind of protein?”

“Valerian root,” Hanz said, and nudged over the large container of powder. “It’s an herbal supplement that calms the mind—one of the ingredients to valium, actually.”

Troy stared. “A sleeping pill?”

Hanz shook his head. “Not a pill. But it does act as a sedative, yes.”

Of course. It all made sense. A nocturnal being needed a sedative to fall asleep at night.

“Tomorrow, we will leave the apartment at nine a.m.—you and I,” Hanz said. “Art is going to stay here and meet Henry and the workers. Is there anywhere you need to go in particular? Or can I choose a location?”

Troy frowned a little. “What I need a place to study my manuscript. I was hoping to lock myself in the room—”

“Not a good idea,” Hanz said. He then pushed over his cell phone. “How about we go to Matthew’s apartment for the day?”

“Why isn’t it a good idea?” Troy bristled, trying restrain the reaction. He was tired of being steered around by everyone.

Hanz raised his eyebrows. “It is best not to tempt people connected to the government. So I’d also collect any personal identifying items out of your room and take it with you.”

That meant his laptop and pictures of friends.

Troy nodded.

He carried his drink upstairs and went to bed. After downing it with a few gulps, he quickly fell asleep.

 

Hanz knocked on his door the next morning, waking him from a dreamless slumber. Rubbing his eyes, Troy glanced once at his clock and then at the window. Outside was gray, and it was later than he had expected. Of course, he had set no alarm. It was near nine.

“Are you decent?” Hanz said. “Can I come in?”

Sitting up, Troy nodded. “Yeah, come in. I overslept.”

Opening the door, Hanz slipped in with a tray of food. “I feared as much. Let me pack your stuff while you get dressed. Don’t forget the bottle of sunblock. We have to go ASAP.”

Hopping quicker to it, Troy grabbed his pants and the nearest shirt in the dresser. He had aimed for the blue long sleeve, but he accidentally grabbed the gray tee shirt with the wolf on it. He did not realize it until he had it on and looked down at his front, feeling his cold arms. Inwardly groaning, he was about to take it off, but Hanz caught sight of it and laughed.

“Is that who I think it is?” Hanz pointed at it.

Leaving it on, Troy nodded. “Yeah.” He pulled on his pants next, then grabbed for a hoodie. “It was bought as a gag gift. Audry made it.”

Hanz’s eyes widened. “But I thought that Audry didn’t know about Rick being—”

“She doesn’t,” Troy snickered. “But she took the picture and made it