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new fold formation on the old manuscripts through which he discovered an unusual sigil had been created. He sketched that, then took pictures of it. He was sure it was some kind of witch sign. He would have to talk to Silvia about it. But as he thought that, Troy chuckled to himself. His research was starting to demand that he spend more time with Randon’s wife than he had ever intended. But that meant he could also be with Randon.

 

The evening meeting was punctuated by Cameron’s off mood. He seemed distracted. And somewhere near the end of the meeting, after they had discussed human eating lifestyles and the best ways to distract from the sound of heartbeats in a crowd, Cameron finally turned to Troy and asked, “Your cop friends, when they vetted the group, did they look into our profiles also?”

Troy was stunned at first, but he said with a halting glance to Mr. Lenox, “Yes. As a precaution. They wanted to know what each of us need as well as the danger we—as in us vampires—must pose to others. Are you worried about something in your past?”

Cameron shook his head, frowning. “No. My past is clean. But, uh, what about those who have been bitten?”

Confused for a moment, Troy opened his mouth to answer—yet Mr. Lenox said, “They are watching their health and psychological states. I spoke with Dr. McAllister, and they are tracking the PTSD in the bite victims and helping them cope. Officer Calamori said all of them have some kind of trauma—including Troy.”

“What?” Troy stared at him.

The man gazed at Troy apologetically. “Sorry. But they are worried about you in particular. They like that you are leading the group and imparting your knowledge, but they fear you are not coping well.”

Troy sat back in his seat. “But… I haven’t been triggered since…”

“They say you are taking valerian root,” Mr. Lenox said.

“To help me sleep,” Troy said. “To cope with vampire sleep habits so I can be functional in the day. It’s part of an evening drink that, that…” He realized then that it was prescribed to him by Hanz, who was a doctor.

Mr. Lenox nodded.

Steve patted his shoulder.

“They don’t want you spending too much time alone,” Mr. Lenox said. “They’re afraid for you.”

Moaning, Troy said, “I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’ve got a girlfriend now.”

“Nicole?” Cameron asked, not quite looking at him straight.

Sighing, Troy nodded. “I’m sorry. You two had a thing, didn’t you? I didn’t even know until the meeting yesterday.”

Cameron laughed, almost painfully. He nodded then shook his head. “Oh, don’t beat yourself up over it. It was a one-time thing, and I wasn’t sure if she was serious or not. And with the way she was throwing it around… I kind of realized she wasn’t serious. You saw her leave with that guy Brandon, right?”

“Well, Matthew says she a nymphomaniac,” Troy muttered. “So I don’t know how it will even work.”

Cameron laughed, straightening up more. “Really?”

Troy nodded sympathetically.

Feeling much better, Cameron sat more upright in his chair.

“And you’re ok, with that?” Mr. Lenox asked, peering at Troy.

Shrugging again, Troy said, “We’re both kind of broken. I’m obsessed with my research, and she needs someone to help her settle down. Maybe we can help each other. I don’t know.”

Steve patted Troy once more on the shoulder, but whispered into his ear. “You just like the sex.”

Troy would have colored, if he could.

But Cameron had also heard and so had Mr. Lenox. They all eyed him, then laughed.

“What can I say?” Troy tossed up his hand, chuckling also. “Extreme vampire libido.”

 

Nicole was there, sitting in the living room with a warm drink when Troy arrived wearing a flimsy blue dress with spaghetti straps. Bobo was making up something for them all to eat, singing along with a jazz song. She was smiling, eyes closed, listening. It was beautiful seeing her like that. Troy wondered if his B.S. at that meeting about them helping each other could be made true. Watching her, he now wanted it to be so. He didn’t just want to have her around just for passionate conjugal encounters. Maybe they really could become a couple.

When she heard the door shut, she opened her eyes and grinned wider, seeing him. She rose.

Troy smiled.

 

Nicole stopped by frequently after that. She had been talking with Bobo that evening, and he had suggested she bring over her infused oils to show Troy what she knew, as Troy really was interested but was easily distracted since he was struggling with vampirism—and she took it to heart. She brought over her essential oils on her day off that Thursday, and explained them to Troy. Most of the day they worked together researching an alternative salve to the tiger balm, one that they could make themselves, possibly cheaper and better smelling.

As they were making the oils and balm, Troy entertained her with random weird vampire facts he knew from his research—the useless, but entertaining stuff.

“Did you know there are a ritual for burying people suspected as vampires?” Troy said while they were melting the wax for the balm on the stove.

Nicole giggled, having already been entertained by the story of Elanora Lenovovo, who was a suspected vampire who had drunk wolf’s milk, and Elizabeth Bathory, who was a Romanian countess of the sixteenth century who enjoyed torturing peasants, especially young virgins whose blood she loved to bathe in.

“They used to bury suspected vampires face down, so if they ever woke up, they would dig toward the center of the earth rather than out of it.” Troy stirred the pot, peering into it to assess the color. “They would also bury a suspected vampire with a large stone it its mouth, laying the body in a north-south direction. Sometimes they would decapitate them and put the head between their legs.”

“Ew.” Nicole shuddered. “How much of that is real?”

Chuckling, Troy shook his head. “I’m not sure. As far as I know, the best way to kill a vampire is to burn it. Decapitation does work, but vampires cannot abide natural light. And fire is deadly. Sunlight, of course, is worse. They just become ash in sunlight. No body at all.”

She smiled at him. “Do you enjoy telling me ways I can kill you?”

He kissed her on the cheek. “I just want to keep you safe.”

Blushing, Nicole bit her lip. Her heart raced. But then she said, “But you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Smiling, he shrugged. “I hope I never do.”

She then showed him the next steps to making the balm they were working on. The instructions they had found were rather precise and clear. As they added the clove oil, the fumes rising, she whispered, “How can you tell when a vampire goes bad?”

“He drinks blood,” Troy said matter-of-factly.

Her eyes widened more on him laughing. “You mean you haven’t…”

“Never,” he said. He then peered over the instructions to find the next step. “I only ever had the blood those vampires poured down my throat to make me into one. It’s why I can still walk in the sunlight. It is the same reason Cameron can. Neither of us have drunk human blood.”

“Unlike that vampire, Steve,” she said, shuddering with a thought of him.

Troy nodded. “But I have the feeling he’s been a vampire for a very long time. Decades. Possibly even centuries.”

She shivered more, gazing up at Troy. “Do you really think he wants to stop being a vampire?”

Pondering on that, Troy finally nodded. “My friend Matt would not have let a dangerous vampire among us if his mind was for violence on us. The Seven had already killed two at the first meeting.”

Her eyes widened on him. “What?”

“Remember when they were vetting people?” Troy said, watching her take the pot off the heat to cool. She looked so cute with those huge pot holder over her dainty hands. “Three people in the initial group never came back.”

“It was more like six,” she contested.

Troy laughed, nodding. “I forgot. Three were LARPers. We sent those home. But one was a demon, and two were vampires looking for dinner. The Seven dispatched them.”

She stared.

“We’re looking out for you,” he said.

She got a funny expression on her face, thinking on that, then snuggled up to him. Wrapping her arms around him, she whispered, “Thanks.”

 

Though she stayed the rest of the night, enjoying each other, they spent more time talking than before. As they lay together in bed, she ran her fingers across his bare chest and whispered things about what she had wanted to do once she had finished school—before she had ‘taken a break’. She had been thinking of dropping out when she had gotten bit.  

“…studied nutrition at first. But then I just couldn’t keep up. The techy-bio terms. I switched to elementary education, but then I realized I really don’t want to be babysitting someone else’s snot nosed kids, and I really didn’t want to be a teacher. Besides, I found my interests were more into natural remedies and blogging. At least, that was the plan.” She sighed, her breath so soft. “But I’m not sure what classes I need to take to help with this. Like, I have to go back to nutrition or something.”

“Maybe you just need a tutor,” Troy murmured. “You know, someone to study with to help you with whatever you don’t understand.”

She snuggled closer to him. “Are you offering? Or, just saying I should find one?”

He laughed, then kissed her head. “I’m offering.”

Nicole leaned in and kissed him more forcibly. “Good.”

 

Bobo announced that Friday morning to Nicole and Troy that he was going to have some friends over for a party that evening and he hoped Troy would not mind. Troy was amazed.

“You? Throw a party?” Troy also noticed Bobo had made another southern wonder for breakfast, this one was a kind of sweet potato French waffle thing. It smelled great. “I thought you didn’t like crowds.”

Laughing, Bobo shrugged. “I’ve learned how to maneuver them. I’m good.”

“How come he doesn’t like crowds?” Nicole asked, slipping her shoes on as Bobo offered her some waffle before she’d go. She accepted one, but not more than that, watching her carbs.

Looking to Bobo, Troy asked, “Can I tell her?”

Bobo shrugged. “Knock yourself out. If she can handle vampires, I think she can handle me.”

Nicole’s eyes widened.

“Bobo’s under a voodoo curse,” Troy explained to her.

“No way!”

Troy nodded. “Yep. If anybody is stupid enough to attack him, the pain they want to inflict on him will just bounce back and hurt them. We call it the rubber-and-glue curse.”

She stared at Bobo, surprised. “How’s that a curse?”

Bobo laughed, but Troy cringed. Troy whispered into her ear, “Because most people are scared to even get close to him. An accidental bump in sports does the same thing. Can you imagine bumping into people in a crowd? People will think you shoved them for no reason.”

“But he has a girlfriend,” she whispered back. “How does that work?”

“I’m gentle,” Bobo said. “And I can hear you.”

She blushed.

 

Troy walked with her to the curb where they waited for the Uber. They held hands.

That afternoon, after much morning research while putting away their samples of balms and oils they had made for testing with their group, Troy visited Mr. Lenox that afternoon at his house to discuss the progress of both support groups and their new website. The new assistant in charge of it (who had an avatar of a character from the movie Avatar and went by the name of McFly) had contacted Troy via the internet, letting him know the website was ready. They had to put in their details and entered in as moderators for it to be complete. McFly said he would maintain the site and notify them of any pertinent contacts or difficulties. They would launch the site to the public soon after.

“What really happened between you and your assistant, Arthur?” Mr. Lenox asked as the conversation lulled.

Shrugging, Troy recounted for the fourth time what had occurred, putting in the pertinent

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