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

Red. But everybody but Howie calls him Andy now.”

Troy looked down to get another look at the tall freckled redhead who had come with a flaming sword—but that group had lagged so much behind that they were below them a flight. Randon and Silvia were still in view, walking behind his group, listening silently.

“A.B. was a childhood name just like Howie,” Daniel explained. “He actually went by the name of A.B.C. as those are his initials—Andrew Bartholomew Cartwright.”

“You can meet him better if you just give this up,” Randon called up to him.

Troy groaned. Shaking his head, he marched up faster. “Death will come for me at dawn. My time is already up.”

“You are an ass!” Randon tromped up after him.

Silvia held back.

Troy just went up faster, passing both Daniel and Peter. They hurried to keep up. Troy’s aches were nearly gone. He could no longer hear his heart beating, which was weird. His own blood had an acid smell to it, which made him yearn for fresh blood. It was a nasty feeling as fresh blood was in abundance within those people around him whom he cared about the most—Tom and Matt. Randon, thankfully, reeked of garlic. In fact, Troy could smell the garlic on most of the group, which blessedly curbed his desire to get just a taste. He didn’t actually want to be a blood-sucker after all.

They emerged out from a structure onto the roof, except for Silvia who lingered with look back for those still coming up. All those around Troy were winded from the hike, except for Tom who seemed to be hovering close to hold up Matthew. His eyes were fixed on Troy, reading his dismal thoughts that undoubtedly were screaming about hunger and blood in Tom’s imp-hearing ears. These, though, were shrouded in thoughts of worthlessness and hopelessness. Troy chose a rooftop structure to lean against.

All of them sat around him, making sure he did not jump off the roof anyway.

“This is ridiculous,” Matt said, still breathing hard. “There has to be a solution other than waiting for the sun to burn you up. I can’t just accept this.”

“I have,” Troy said, shrugging. “It is the order of nature.”

Tom stuck his tongue at Troy, spitting. “That’s what I think about your order of nature. What’s wrong with just living as a vampire? There are legal ways about getting blood without hurting anybody.”

Troy shot him an extremely dirty look. “I am not going to drink blood.”

Daniel and Peter nodded, agreeing that such a habit would be gross.

“Would you even have to drink blood?” Randon asked. His eyes searched around for Silvia to possibly confirm any knowledge that might be had about vampires. She would know, if anybody did.

“Is there a case where a vampire survived without it?” Troy asked.

“Has anyone tried?” Peter interjected.

“Who would know?” Daniel whispered to him.

“Mr. Carlton Jones might know,” Peter hissed back.

“His health is failing him,” Daniel said. “What about that ex vampire hunter back at Cliffcoast? That Mr. McDillan Eve knows?”

Troy stiffened at the name of Eve. He was still furious with her.

As if summoned, Hanz came out of the stairwell, oddly alone. His fair eyes raked over the roof, resting on Troy, then Matthew and Tom. He went to those two, clearly knowing them best. Troy wondered how they had met and when. Unfortunately, he did not have much time to find out. And it was just a curiosity anyway. He really didn’t want to know. Troy just wanted to close his eyes and die.

Red, or rather Andy, came up next with Art and Silvia. Silvia went to Randon, shooting Hanz a weary look while Andy and Art went to where Hanz stood.

They all waited for the dawn.

Conversation lulled as some of them even napped. Peter was oddly awake, and so was Daniel. Everyone else except for Tom settled where they could wait in comfort. Tom seemed restless, as if a noise on the air was making him more agitated.

Then, out of the silence, Tom shouted to the sky, “Go away.”

“What’s that?” Peter got up and looked to where Tom was facing. Above, Troy saw nothing more than dark sky, though Tom grew increasingly agitated as if he were hearing a particularly nasty imp say something extremely rude.

 “I don’t care whom you were talking to,” Tom shouted out at the darkness. “Go away.”

“What’s there?” Matthew got to his feet, while Peter backed away on guard, heading closer to Troy. Matt’s eyes raked over the dark sky, looking for what Tom was seeing.

“What is there?” Daniel stood up, his eyes tracking that same open space.

Tom looked bitter as he said, “Death angels.”

Troy turned around, his eyes trying to find that one who had cursed him to be vampire, but she was not there.

Tom was trembling, hearing more from that invisible being, his eyes fixed on that one dark spot in the sky. He shouted protectively, “Like I would tell you if I knew.”

Troy got to his feet, as shivers went down his arms. Tom was doing something dangerous. He could feel it. And weirdly, Tom was not backing down. It gave Troy the impression that Tom was staring down Death itself.

 “Are they looking for Eve?” Matthew asked, his eyes still raking over the blackness above.

Silvia rushed up next to Tom. She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, forming a hasty circle. Then with her hands contorting into shapes together as sigils with words chanted low whispering through her lips, a shiver rippled through the air like it was solidifying into a shield. Then she pushed.

An ear-piercing screech dug into everyone’s eardrums. Troy clapped hands over his ears. But whatever it had backed away.

“Witch!” an audible voice resonated over them at a distance, the sound like an echo under water. “You would align with a witch?”

“She comes in handy,” Tom said with a mocking shrug and a wink at Silvia.

Silvia smirked at Tom. Yet her brother, Daniel, rushed up, hissing into her left ear, “Don’t tempt them.”

She backed away with her brother, him gesturing to Randon to help him. Troy saw her hands were quaking.

“What do you want with Eve McAllister?” Andy (whom Troy still saw as Red) called to the air. “Why do you think she is here?”

“You?” a nearly snarling voice came down. “You are supposed to be the leader of the Holy Seven! How dare you align with a witch!”

Troy stared at Andy. Daniel had not steered him wrong. But who were they talking to?

Everyone was on his feet by then.

“Silvia is a reformed witch,” Andy declared with his shoulders squared, giving Troy the impression of knight of the Round Table. In fact, Andy seemed to glow. “And you are not behaving in the way I would expect an angel to.” The light arising from Andy was white and bright. Troy could feel it burn him.

Daniel ran up and grabbed Andy’s arm. “Red!” He gestured back to Troy who had on instinct ducked behind Peter who was standing just as tall, fingering his red crystal with the inclination to use it.

Almost immediately the light emanating from Andy quenched. He turned with wide eyes on Troy who was now staring at his sun-burned arms. “Oh! Sorry!”

Eyes wide on Andy, Troy said, “What are you?”

“Holy Seven.” Daniel waved at him, reminding him. “Warrior for God.”

It was funny and startling to hear Daniel just say it like that. Of course that guy had already told him, but it wasn’t a joke. They were not just monster hunters. They had something in them to their core which was way beyond typical.

Even glancing at Peter who was smirking at his fellow of the Seven, Troy could see he was brushing up against extraordinary people. But that really had been the story of his life. He was the ordinary kid who unfortunately had been bitten vampires and had an eternal bleed. Everyone else had a gift which he secretly envied. They all had something to compensate for their difficulties at being afflicted by the supernatural.

“What are you lingering around that vampire for? It is fruitless to try to spare the damned,” that voice from above stabbed down.

Troy shuddered. The worst part was that he was right. It was fruitless to try to save him.

But Andy called back at the invisible intruder with such a disgusted look, “Are you really an angel? Because that rhetoric is entirely counter to the Gospel. The whole point of it is to redeem souls. Whose side are you really on?”

Troy felt his ears pop. The air pressure, which he had not realized had been so heavy, had released.

“It’s gone,” Tom said. He was sweating. And he turned thankfully to Andy.

Andy nodded back. But he just grumbled.

 

Dawn’s Early Light

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

The sky was lightening. Most stars were gone. There was one just above the horizon—possibly Venus, or maybe Mars. The planets always shone brighter. Most everyone had remained awake atop the roof since the visit from the disembodied voice. Randon consistently whispered that they could still go back indoors and think of an alternative way of living for Troy, that he should not give up on life but make due as a vampire. But Troy was having none of it.

As the sky started to get lighter, panting, tramping up the stairwell, sweating like he had run a marathon, Rick Deacon paused there and looked as if he were talking to himself. Then, alarmed, Rick rushed out the stairwell onto the roof. He ran straight to Troy and pounced on his back.

“What are you thinking!? Get off this roof!” Rick tried with all his strength to drag Troy back to the stairwell.

“Ow!” Troy wrestled him, angry the twerp was there. “Get offa me!”

It surprised him how easily he was able to wrench Rick off. Before they were nearly equal in strength. But Rick just tumbled back on four paws as a wolf, abandoning his shoes as his claws dug into the roof gravel when he transformed. In a jump, he pounced on Troy again.

“Gah!” A cry came out of Art. He ducked behind Hanz, horrified. Those in that corner of the roof dodged back also, eyes wide on Rick though it was clear Hanz had known Rick was a werewolf. Andy went in front of them, while everyone else scattered out of the way of the battling werewolf and vampire. 

“Rick! Stop it! I don’t want to be a vampire!” Troy tossed him off again, wishing the guy would just leave him alone.

But Rick just rolled across the rooftop then climbed back onto his sock-feet, taking once more human form. “Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be a werewolf, but I’m stuck!”

Sure, Rick always brings it back about him. Nobody can have it worse than him, Troy mentally grumbled. Feeling his teeth ache as his eyes grew red in vision, Troy said, “But I can end this.”

“Oh?” Rick snapped back. “And I can’t ‘end my condition’ too by eating garlic or honey? It’s the same damn thing! You are talking suicide!”

Troy clenched his teeth. It was not the same thing. The sun was not garlic or honey. Normal people should be able to walk in sunlight. It wasn’t a dietary thing. That kid always made his troubles bigger than they were.

“You are being selfish and short-sighted.”