Once Bitten, No Longer Shy by Julie Steimle (to read list TXT) đź“–
- Author: Julie Steimle
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He practically hopped up the steps out of the subway. He strode down the road, grinning at the people he passed, from bag ladies to fancy shoppers in high stilettos carrying large paper handled bags with name brands on them. Troy rushed through the mall doors and checked his watch.
He was early.
But he was too excited. He nearly hopped up the escalators and to the store when he slowed down, taking in the natural rhythm of the mall and the storefront itself. The he took a longer gaze. It didn’t appear like they were doing inventory. The usual everyday greeter stood near the entrance with samples, urging people to come into the shop and look—or in this case, come in and smell. He could certainly smell the camphor and eucalyptus.
He walked a little slower, peeking around the doorway, hoping to find Nicole. The greeter spotted him, openly puzzled, but grinned.
“She’s not here today,” she said.
Troy stared. “Uh, what? But Nicole told me you all had inventory today.”
The woman laughed, amused, and yet in a way that made Troy wonder what she was holding back. Her heart certainly made that lying jump. She said with a more even rhythm to her heart, “Uh, no. She won’t be in until tonight. She has closing shift.”
A shudder whipped through him. Nicole had said she was asked to stay until closing, so he could pick her up then.
He peeked in once more. Sure enough, it was business as usual. No inventory workers. Nothing out of the regular behavior. Nicole had lied to him.
“When does she come in?” Troy asked, tensing up.
Sighing, her co-worker said, “I don’t want to break your heart, but you seem like a good guy. You should know, she’s had a number of, uh… admirers.”
Troy cringed, closing his eyes. Was she going to bring up Brandon also?
“We liked that she was sticking to you,” she said. “But there is another guy she’s sometimes with.”
“Is his name Brandon?” Troy asked dryly, opening his eyes on her.
She shook her head, her focus somewhat puzzled on him, almost hypnotized. “No. Though we know about that jerk too. I heard a rumor that someone had shot him in self-defense. The guy had a total rapist vibe about him.”
That was what was being said about Brandon’s death? Interesting. And yet if it wasn’t Brandon with Nicole whom they were talking about, who was it?
“I’m talking about this other guy.” She then got closer, lowering her voice to gossip level. “If you want to see him, just stick around. He’s a dirty old creep. I think he has blackmail on Nicole because she doesn’t seem to like him.”
Who could possibly have blackmail on Nicole? What could she have possibly done? Had she posed nude for something? A sex tape? He knew she had not killed Brandon. He was her alibi.
But Troy left the shop and walked the mall, thinking—what should he do? Was it a lie? Was it the truth? Unlike Nicole’s roommates, this woman seemed to have no ulterior motives. For starters, she wasn’t eying his crotch. She actually seemed to like Nicole.
A dirty-rotten, no-good, non-trusting thought rested in his head then and would not let go. He had to find out if what she said about another man was the truth. And that meant spying. He didn’t like doing that. But what he would not give to be Tom Brown right then. Unlike Tom, he could not go invisible. He also could not defy gravity or hear the naughty thoughts in people’s hearts. All those gifts he needed now. Instead he scouted around the mall to find a spot where he could sit unobtrusively and watch the shop to see who came and went without being easily spotted himself. It was across the open balcony, on the other side of a lower level quad.
He tucked himself in there, eating one of the sandwiches, asking himself why Nicole had lied about inventory all day Saturday. Why had she said what she had said? Several hours later, after two smoothies, another walk around the mall on the higher levels and returning to his spot four hours before closing time—the short shift which Nicole had complained about before she had mentioned Saturday inventory—Troy finally saw her. And the man who was with Nicole was Marcus.
Marcus—the businessman who had been bitten by a vampire hooker—Williams had his hand around Nicole’s waist, his fingers rubbing the curvature of her buttocks as she was saying what looked like a hasty good-bye. She appeared nervous, peeking around with fear that she would be seen with him.
Chills washed down Troy, watching them. The blackguard, Marcus, let his hands rub up her side as he reached over her breast to her hair to push it out of her face, pretending amour, though really just wanting to assert dominance over her by publicly groping her. Troy could barely detect their conversation, and he was glad for a vampire’s enhanced senses.
“…tonight. And when he’s done with you, and you’ve had your fun, come back to me. You still owe me, you know.” He handed her what looked like folded hundred dollar bills.
“How many more times?” she said, almost begging for this time to be the last, yet taking the money and tucking it into her bra. “I mean, come on. I think I’ve given you enough for what you gave me here.”
“You still have to pay your rent for next month, right?”
“I might move in with Troy, so, next month might not even happen,” she said, tucking the money in deeper.
“Oh, so you’re using him to get out of our deal?” Marcus hissed out, looking likely to reach in and take the money back. “That doesn’t end our arrangement, you know. You still owe me, and you know it. You have to come over tomorrow. And if you don’t give me what I want, I will let your lover know of our arrangement, and I’ll just sit back and watch him deal with you. He is a vampire, you know. They’re jealous. And I am sure he did kill Brandon, no matter what he says.” He slid his hand into her collar, not quite feeling her breast, but definitely squeezing. It was a good thing they were in a public place. It kept Marcus from going too far. Otherwise Troy would have snapped then and rushed over there and broken his arm.
“He didn’t,” Nicole hissed. “I was with him the entire time.”
“Oh, so you killed him together,” Marcus said, sneering.
“His roommate was home,” Nicole snapped back. “We have alibis.”
“Yeah?” Marcus shrugged it off. “Fine. Then I’ll tell his friends, the cops, that you have a side job of prostitution. You know they only arrest the whores. Not the Johns. And those pictures, you know which website is going to get them.”
That was it. Troy rose, ready to barge in on them. The problem was, he was watching from a spot across the open balcony on the other side of the atrium—which meant he had to go around and past kiosks to get there.
But Nicole turned, marching directly into the store. Huffing, Marcus sauntered off in the opposite direction. Which should he go after? Nicole or that scumbag Marcus? Nicole had lied to him, but Marcus was using her—and then blackmailing her.
Troy decided to go after Marcus. Unfortunately, the man was a quick saunterer, and he was already down an escalator by the time Troy got to that side, keeping to a normal human pace as vampire running would be too obvious in daylight. Tracking him through the mall, Troy followed Marcus outside, where the damn man already hopped onto a bus that just pulled up.
Troy halted on the curb, watching it go.
His entire body boiled. He felt played, used, messed with. And worse, Rick had predicted it. But who was worse? Nicole, who had lied to him? Or Marcus, the guy who probably made secret porn of her… considering what he had just overheard?
Steve Windmiller, that vampire, had said vampirism was like a venereal disease—which was something that was most likely caught by the promiscuous rather than the innocent. None of them were innocent. Troy realized as he stared at the road that he too was guilty. A guilty fool. You kind of had to be scummy to become a vampire, and corrupted to be bitten by one. They were attracted, after all, to those who danced on that wicked edge.
And yet a logical voice in his head said to walk it off. Think it over. It seemed to be in Randon’s way of talking, the logical one of their duo. And as Troy walked, he went over everything in his head.
He had known Nicole was a nymphomaniac. He knew that she had slept with practically every man in the group, except perhaps Mr. Lenox and Steve though she had most likely hit on them all. He also knew that the other men had backed off from her when he and she became an item—except for Brandon who really had been deserving of a good castration. But now Troy knew she was also having sex with Marcus for money. Which begged the question: had she been trying to move in with him because of financial needs? Or was it because she really did like him? Or, and he had to be frank about this, was it all about the sex? She was always about that last one… even when he wasn’t seeking it, even when he tried to divert her and say she did not have to put out.
Damn, why did Rick have to be right about her?
He walked to the café where he had his first date with Nicole and sat down. It wasn’t that far.
“Would you like to order somethi—Troy.”
Troy looked up. It was Miranda.
“Hi. Uh.” He rose, meeting her gaze, which as always looked to the future. “No. I’m just… Is it ok if I just sit here? I need a place to think.”
She smiled and slid into the seat across from him, urging him to sit back down. “It’s fine. I’m due for my break anyway.”
Miranda had jumped ahead, as usual. She then blinked, at him, blushing that she had done it.
“Uh…” Troy looked to the table, sitting. Yet a thought came to him and he asked, “How do you function in public?”
She shrugged. “Normal, usually. I only have jump-peeks when I get anxious.”
“Like when you are around me,” Troy said. He then shook his head.
“I’m so sorry.” Miranda’s eyes widened on him, her cheeks coloring more. “You seemed to really like her.”
He closed his eyes. She had seen what he was about to say. So he said it anyway, “Yeah, I found her cheating on me.”
“What do you mean she was a nymphomaniac?” She pulled back, another step ahead.
Moaning, Troy shook his head and said, “Miranda, could you listen without talking? Or wait a few minutes before replying what you think I am about to say?”
Blushing, she lowered her head and nodded, putting her hand to her forehead. A few people peeked over, including the waiters and others. They smiled, letting her alone.
“Admittedly, I don’t have much of a concept of time,” Miranda said. But she smiled at him. “However, I will try. Say what you have to say, and I will try to tell the difference between present time and future time.”
He nodded. That was fair, especially considering her condition. So, he explained what had happened from the day he met Nicole to the time he had found out one of the men of the biting group was using her as his private hooker, and possibly had private blackmail porn on her.
Miranda did not respond immediately. She nodded, thought and then said, “Ok. That’s…” Miranda met his gaze and said, “Honestly, I didn’t really think you were the kind of guy to
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