Once Bitten, No Longer Shy by Julie Steimle (to read list TXT) 📖

left the classroom and walked to his office where they could have more private conversation, he explained that he used to help run Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in his younger years after recovering from alcoholism himself. It was one of the reasons why vampirism bothered him so much. He hated the constant craving for blood. He said it was worse than his craving had been for alcohol, especially when his enhanced sense of smell and hearing constantly cued him into all his triggers. However, with the miraculous inclusion of warm dairy into his diet, all that had been curbed, he said.

“I had nearly lost my wife and family to alcoholism,” Mr. Lenox explained, staring at the ground. He cradled a mug of warm milk in his hands. He had given one to Troy also, noticing that his eyes had gone deep red from hunger, as he really had not eaten a thing since lunch. “But being forced into drinking vampire blood destroyed all that. I don’t dare go home in case I lose control and harm them.”

Randon shot Troy a look.

But Troy was thinking, wondering over what this man was describing. Could Mr. Lenox really not go home? Was he a truly a risk to others? Or was this man just one of those worriers, the kind who suspected the worst and fell into self-fulfilling prophecy? It could be either or. After all, Rick (as a werewolf) was super cautious around the full moon and did everything to stay away from people those three nights. Troy had seen for himself that Rick’s need to feed on those nights was voracious, even painful for him, and he would rather feast on a rabbit or a chicken than attack a human being on accident. But as Troy yet had not been in that situation himself, he did not know how much of what Mr. Lenox said was the same as with Rick and therefore what he would experience. Maybe Art really should worry, and an extra lock for the door was a good idea.

“I try to make it work,” Mr. Lenox said, his voice sounding oddly distant. “But I miss my family.”

“What did you tell them?” Randon asked, concerned.

Troy listened intently as Mr. Lenox replied, “Not much. Who would believe a pair of vampires made me drink their blood? Not my wife. My wife does not get into this sort of thing. She doesn’t even like fiction. She reads ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’ books and biographies. She’s a Baptist. She thought Harry Potter was evil and would not let the kids read the books let alone watch the movies.”

Randon smothered a smirk. Troy raised his eyebrows.

“So I told her I caught an infectious disease like leprosy and I didn’t want to infect them.” Mr. Lenox took a sip from his mug before saying, “I make skype calls when it is daylight and I am indoors, and I usually call again at night before bedtime to read the kids stories—”

“How old are your kids?” Randon asked.

“Ten, six, and four,” Mr. Lenox said painfully. “A girl, and two boys.”

Both of them stared. Admittedly, having grown up among ghoulies, neither Randon nor Troy had ever considered people becoming a ghoulie as an adult. But this man’s life had been ruined by the incursion of vampires, and he was one of them now.

 “Anyway, I turned mostly vegan to combat the vampiric inclinations that have been thrust upon me,” Mr. Lenox said. “But I don’t know what to do for all those people Dr. McAllister keeps sending me. I mean, I know Dr. McAllister has been sending those bite victims to me with the hopes to get me out of the darkness. He’s been doing it for quite some time. I know he’d like me to arrange some kind of vampire-anon support group meetings with them, but my terror of the sun is way too great.”

“Of the sun?” Randon looked confused though Troy nodded.

“Of course,” Troy said. “No bite victim with a brain would walk around out at night.”

Mr. Lenox nodded to him.

“Then how did those vampires get to you again?” Randon asked Troy with a dirty look.

Troy would have colored then, but no blood flowed to his face. “I lost track of the time, ok? I was in the middle of important research besides. How was I supposed to believe that the vampires might have hid away in the library before closing time at night? They don’t usually enter buildings without an invitation.”

“Public buildings are open to all,” Randon dryly reminded him.

Troy merely rolled his eyes, nodding.

“You are serious about your research, then?” Mr. Lenox asked.

Troy nodded earnestly. “Very.” He then shot Randon a look. “So yeah, I was willing to risk working in the dark in the library after hours to find the cure for the bite.”

Mr. Lenox looked thoughtful. “Then… do you think some bite victims would dare venture out to a support group at night? At least on rare occasions.”

Both Randon and Troy exchanged looks. They nodded.

Troy said, “I would have, had I known others like me existed. But—”

“But you’d want to switch all meetings to the daytime for their sake,” Mr. Lenox finished, nodding. “It makes sense.”

Admittedly, Troy knew that was so. Meetings in the afternoon or at lunch outside under a full hot sun would be best—the very time new he had to be under an umbrella. Perhaps he had to invest in one and be the weirdo carrying an umbrella around in full daylight. He would get such strange looks.

“Then how about this.” Mr. Lenox scooted closer in his seat toward Troy, his brow furrowing crease lines under his thinning hair. “Why don’t we try to contact those bite victims and try to set up a support group? The first meeting will have to be at night. We can send out fliers at grocery stores and libraries. We can set up a website for the group and even get up a chat group. We can even post something on Tumbler and Twitter. We could have a Facebook group and go global.”

“You’ll attract kooks,” Randon warned. “Most people have no clue and will think this is some kind of game.”

“Let’s not use Facebook or Twitter,” Troy muttered. “There is so much policing on those sites, it’s practically fascist. Total Big Brother there. Besides, I’d be worried some undercover SRA agent would mole in and set up bots to monitor us.”

Mr. Lenox flinched then nodded. That was a cringe-worthy prospect.

“They’d probably set up sock puppets and try to manipulate the conversation,” Randon muttered.

“What we need is a computer genius,” Mr. Lenox murmured thoughtfully.

Troy nodded.

But Randon perked up. “I know one.”

They both turned, waiting for a name. But Randon was grinning in such a funny way, they wondered if he was not merely joking. He said, “We need to involve the Seven in this.”

“No,” said Troy, shaking his head. He did not want to involve people with hands that could invoke fire and carried swords.

“Yes,” said Randon firmly. “I’ve never met the guy, but Daniel swears by their friend Semour Dawson who built and runs their website. The guy is like a James Bond Q. He made your emergency fob.”

“Emergency fob?” Mr. Lenox looked to Troy, curious.

Troy pulled out his key chain and lifted the silver fob which had long been deactivated. He wondered who had done it. “This thing.”

Randon nodded. “Yep.”

Turning it over, Troy wondered about it. It was basically a lo-jack tracking device. All he had to do was push a button and it silently sent out a signal to alert the Seven that he was in trouble. “How many of these has he made?”

“They’re limited edition,” Randon said, shrugging. “I think Rick got the first one. Then they made a bunch for us ghoulies who hang with Rick. But I bet they gave one to each of their parents and family members. They’re like that.”

“So… VIPs, basically,” Troy murmured. He then glanced to Mr. Lenox. “Could we get him one?”

Randon shrugged. “I think we’d have to talk to Semour. He’s the one who makes them. Michael Toms is the one who funds him, though I think Deacon Enterprises also gives him money for research.”

“Deacon Enterprises?” Mr. Lenox echoed, a little alarmed.

Randon nodded to him. “Yeah.”

“They’re connected to this kind of thing?” Mr. Lenox grew even more surprised, his eyes widening. His neck seemed to stiffen.

Both Randon and Troy gazed back at him, then exchanged a look. How much did they want to tell him? Would he eventually figure it out that Rick was the werewolf they were talking about? Or was it best to keep it on the down low, as vampires and werewolves had a natural aversion for one another? Both had toxic blood and were predators. And Troy actually could hear the difference in Rick’s heartbeat from regular humans’ now, just like the difference in Randon’s. Rick’s heart rhythm was a little off-putting, actually. And the scent of his blood was repulsive, like soured milk.

“They are friends of the Holy Seven,” Randon explained. “They come from the same hometown in Massachusetts.”

Troy nodded.

“Oh.” And that satisfied Mr. Lenox.

“So, are we really considering this whole vampire-anon group thing?” Troy asked, taking the subject back to point.

Mr. Lenox nodded. “Yes. But let’s not call it ‘vampire-anon’ or anything like that. We should choose something discrete for the public face. We would have to schedule a regular meeting place, and we might have to get a permit. I will have to look into the legalities of the thing.”

“Isn’t it there constitutional amendment saying the people have the right to peaceably assemble?” Randon murmured.

Troy shrugged. “I think that is for addressing a redress of grievances or something. It’s not the same as forming a club or society, or in this case, a support group. I think groups have to register somewhere downtown at least. Maybe.”

“I can look into that,” Mr. Lenox said. “But if the offices are open in the day, you will have to do the footwork.”

“We can,” Randon said. “I’m a New York resident, and Troy just moved back.”

Mr. Lenox nodded.

They rose from their seats. There really was nothing left to say.

After quickly exchanging phone numbers and email addresses, along with real addresses, they left the office and walked toward the outside.

“What do you do the rest of the night when you are not teaching?” Troy asked, as he realized that if he ever were to accidentally drink human blood and be stuck in the night time forever at some point he would need a plan for living. He realized now that death by sunlight really was the stupidest idea he had ever had.

With a shrug, Mr. Lenox said, “Oh, the usual stuff I did before. I do most of my business transactions online, such as banking and paying bills. I have a VPN, so I can protect myself that way. For daytime things, I can get a TA to run errands for me. But most things I have to go out for can also be done at night, like food shopping. It’s also rather convenient as most stores are quite empty, so I don’t stand in lines much. But the bakery is less fresh and the deli is usually closed, so the pasta salad I used to get is usually out by then. I miss that.”

“You don’t go clubbing?” Randon asked with a chuckle.

Troy slapped him on the back of his head. “Are you crazy? Vampires frequent clubs looking for idiots.”

“They do?” Mr. Lenox’s eyes widened on him.

“You didn’t know?” Troy stared back, astonished.

Mr. Lenox shook his head. “No. If I go out for social reasons, I tend to stick to the all-night diners, bowling alleys, and occasionally I visit the soup kitchen to help out.”

“You’re a regular saint,” Randon said with a laugh.

But Mr. Lenox shrugged. “Not really. I used to do that stuff before I became a dry-vampire. Only now, I can’t go home to my wife.”

Troy cringed.

“Are you so sure you can’t go home?” Randon asked. They